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bloodynereid · 1 year

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Eye of Madness / Eye of Greatness - part 2

pairings: targaryen family x platonic! velaryon oc + implied aemond targaryen x oc

tw: blood, prophecies (?), character death, kind of dark idk, fix-it au, sword fighting, helaena is kind of ooc, daemon is somehow a good father, targcest (idk it just happened ok - my brain somehow conjured up chemistry between these two)

description: Years after the incident at Driftmark, Elaena and her family now live in Dragonstone. However, the family is called to arms in an effort to defend Lucerys' claim to the Driftmark throne. Elaena must now return to court to face her dying grandsire and the uncle whose price she had payed. An eye for an eye.

a/n: sorry this is so long... the words kind of ran away from me. anyways I would urge you read part 1 first if you haven't yet for the sake of context but I'm pretty sure you could just read this on it's own tbh. hope you enjoy part 2 as much as I enjoyed writing it :) Elaena is my little badass dreamer.

disclaimer: I unfortunately don't know High Valyrian (I am learning it on Duolingo) so the phrases and convos are a combination of different online translators and dictionaries - I tried to eliminate the English words that couldn't be translated so for the people who do know the language well, past tense stuff and some plural stuff is most definitely incorrect. If you all want to correct me on it feel free to.

part 1 / part 2

Years had passed since the incident at Driftmark and the Velaryon/Targaryen family now lived in Dragonstone, far away from the green poison that festered at the Red Keep. Even if Elaena had changed the fate of her brothers that night, the greens still thirsted for power. She was lonelier too… often exchanging ravens with Helaena but never finding that bond amongst the children of her age again. Her own brothers and cousins mostly left her alone and the younger ones were scared of the eye that was no longer there.

Her only companions that filled her formative years were her mother, Rhaenyra and her father figure/uncle, Daemon. He had taken up her Valyrian lessons after the maester had decided to try and make Elaena wear an eye patch, telling her it was disgusting to have to see that ugly thing every day. The man disappeared without a trace one day and Elaena came back the next day later smelling of smoke and fire. Daemon had also taken up her sword training when he found her practicing with a wooden stick one day, telling her that if she insisted on training at least it should be with steel and a worthy companion. Elaena was knocked on her back more than she could count that afternoon.

The sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks helped drown out the voices that had grown harsher over the years. Demanding that she would listen to them. The heated skin of Cannibal carefully enveloped me as I cuddled into his side, lightly stroking the coal colored scales. Green festers in the cut and the man will speak truth in accusations. Accusations given for power. Power that he will never grasp.

“Ziry vestragon hae iksi naejot henujagon Zaldrīzesdōron aderī, dōna valītsos.” I felt his rumble against my back and a little laugh escaped my lips. Cannibal was a sweet creature even if he did have some harsh tendencies. He reminded me a lot of the spiders that Hel and I would catch all those years ago. I can still remember the day when I bonded with him so clearly, like it had only happened yesterday. It seems like we are to leave Dragonstone soon, sweet boy.

The day had been occupied by a storm, none of the children had been allowed outside so Elaena and her family had spent the day by the fire, exchanging stories and playing little games. It had been a while since they had done anything similar to this and Elaena had been missing her two brothers, who had been unintentionally avoiding her due to their guilt about that night. That ordinary day however would eventually turn into one of the best in her life. This was the day that the Gods had been whispering about.

When all the castle was fast asleep, the young princess sneaked into the kitchens and grabbed a meager amount of food and a water jug before setting off to hike through the wilderness that surrounded the castle. The wind slashed and tore at her clothes while rain beat down from the heavens.

I had finally found him as the first rays of sunlight started to permeate the sky, the gray clouds dulling the usually colorful sunrise. Cannibal was resting on one of the highest points of the island and for a young girl with only half of normal hand-eye coordination, climbing had been a… task. Especially as the wet rocks slipped and tore at my hands as I ascended the cliffs.

“Rytsas zaldrīzes.” I said as I carefully approached the large mount and the dragon slowly opened his eyes and looked at me with curiosity instead of the expected fury, the Gods had been right. As always. Hello dragon.

“Gīda… gīda.” I extended my hand over to his snout, the dragon’s warm breath instantly making me forget the bitter cold that had seemed to have permanently seeped into my bones during the hike. Steady… steady.

“Kessa ao rual nyke naejot sōvegon lēda ao?” Cannibal answered with a resounding huff, that sounded to me as an agreement so I gave the beast a large smile. “Kirimvose, ñuha jorrāelagon zaldrīzes.” Will you allow me to fly with you? Thank you, my dear dragon.

I leaned my forehead against his and carefully made my way over to his side. Sliding my fingers reassuringly across the black scales. Since he was a wild dragon and had basically killed all of the riders that had attempted to claim him - there were no ropes or saddle on his back. I would have to ride bareback then. As if he sensed my uneasiness, Cannibal turned his head to look into my eye, his head cocking before turning his snout and blowing steam at the ledge high up on the stone wall.

“Sȳz zaldrīzes.” I took off the pack and placed it on the floor before climbing up using the cracks in the wall until I was standing on the ledge. The whispers fill my ears and give me courage. Dragon of coal. Dragon of stone. Two souls entwined in only the way a dragon and rider can be. I jump off from the ledge and hold on tightly to Cannibal’s back. He lets out a loud roar and slowly spreads his wings, I give him a little pat on his side and I hold on tight. “Soves, Cannibal.” Good dragon. Fly, Cannibal.

He lets out an even louder roar that resounds against the stone and slowly ascends into the clouds. The rain had stopped and now only the morning dew sat heavily in the air. The sun had risen fully by now and the skies were painted a dull orange and pink. I let out a laugh as we suddenly dip down and twirl around in the air. I felt free, completely free. “Dracarys!” Dragonfire!

“Ahh I knew I would find you here.” My mind is wrenched out of its memories as I hear the familiar voice of my uncle Daemon. Cannibal rumbles menacingly but I give him a reassuring pat before getting up from my spot on the rough grass.

“Kepus, iksis ziry jēda syt ñuha gūrēñare?” Uncle, is it time for our training?

“Daor, aōha muña ēza jiōragon iā vōljes hen se Baela. Jaelza naejot ūndegon ao.” No, your mother has received a raven from Baela. She wants to see you.

“Sȳrje. Egros gūrēñare tolī?” Very well. Sword training after?

“Kessa, eman iderēbagon se vok dīnagon. Gōntan nyke ivestragon ao nūmāzma Syrax's arlie drōma?” Yes, I have chosen the perfect place. Did I tell you about Syrax’s new eggs?

We talked as we scaled up the rocks that surrounded Cannibal’s chosen resting place and Daemon excitedly spoke about the clutch of eggs he had found earlier that day. I had grown fond of the man people called Rogue Prince, he had become more of a father than Laenor and Harwin had ever been. Mother continuously joked that we were two sides of the same coin - both second-born and rogue. Father and daughter in every way that counted. Daemon entertained even my wildest mutterings and delusions. Comforting me, alongside my mother when the worst dreams came around.

The familiar bricks of the Red Keep came into view as I flew out of the clouds and descended into the Dragonpit. Letting Cannibal fly off into the wilderness after I slid off his back, he’s still a wild dragon at heart and has killed quite a few dragon keepers who tried to domesticate him over the years. Brushing off the black and red riding leathers, I took off my gloves and tightened the braids that were entwined in my hair. I had decided to come slightly later than the rest of my family - knowing the strange stares they usually attract whenever I joined them. Purple stone. Green blood spills. Against red bricks and red fire. Blood will be drawn by the knife of ire.

“Rytsas dārilaros, aōha muña ivestretan īlva naejot jiōragon ao. Konīr iksis iā anne rȳ se remȳti naejot gūrogon ao naejot se gaomagon.” One of the dragon keepers I knew well from childhood had approached me as I watched Cannibal become a speck in the sky, informing me about my mother’s instructions. Hello princess, your mother told us to receive you. There is a horse at the gates to take you to the Keep.

“Kirimvose.” I flashed him a smile before walking over to the gates, seeing a beautiful chestnut mare tied to one of the posts with one of the members of the Kingsguard sitting on a white one next to it. Thank you.

“It seems that my mother still believes me incapable of protecting myself.” I say as I untie the rope and slip onto the saddle, my sword clanging against my hip. The sound of my voice makes the guard snap out of his trance and look at me, his eyes widening. Clearing his throat in discomfort, he answers my quip:

“Sorry princess but it was actually the Queen who insisted.” My eyebrows shoot up.

“The Queen hmm? Well I sure hope you can keep up.” I knock my feet and set off into the streets of Flea Bottom as fast as I can, leaving him cursing behind me and starting up his horse as well. The small folk shout insults at me as they try to move out of the way. A laugh escapes me. It’s not like riding a dragon but at least it’s close to it. Plus it’s fun to toy with guards, especially those sent by the Queen.

I arrived at the Red Keep, with a very disgruntled guard coming in mere moments after me. I told one of the servants to inform my mother that I had arrived, giving the excuse that I wanted to go explore before seeing her.

The first place I found myself in was the training grounds. The whispers I had accompany me in the halls were downright cruel, but I had heard worse and what was I going to do - pop my eye back in? I saved my brothers and all these people care about is vanity.

Standing off to the side I leaned against one of the pillars, watching my uncle Aemond spar with Ser Crist- no that didn’t seem right, Crispin? It must be Ser Crispin. I eyed my two brothers who looked at the man in mild disgust and also slight awe. Aemond had become a skillful swordsman. Eye of sapphire. Eye of amethyst. Two souls tied together by their shared sacrifice.

“Nephews… have you come to train?”

“Now, now, Kepus, we wouldn’t want you to lose another eye. I don’t think I’d like to go blind, do you?” I spoke up which made everyone gathered in the training ground turn to look at my previously unnoticed presence. Uncle.

My brothers looked at me with quizzical looks as I pushed off the wall and walked over to stand in front of the much taller man. I fiddled with the hilt of my sword and a smirk started to rise on my face. Eye to eye. Jem to eyepatch.

“Princess, we didn’t expect you to arrive so early.” Crispin piped up from behind Aemond, I tilted my head and gave him a little nod.

“Well the guard that you sent would most probably agree with you, Ser Crispin. Now, uncle, you called for a spar. Think you could take on your favorite niece?”

“Well dear Elaena, the offer was only extended to your brothers but I would gladly take you on. Think you can beat me?” I scoffed.

“Oh I do.” I pull the sword out of its sheath. The steel singing as I adjusted my grip on the hilt and walked back a few paces, aiming the blade at his throat.

“We shall see about that.” His eye sparked dangerously and I smirked. Let the games begin.

He brought up his blade and tapped the sword away from his throat before lunging. The dancing of metal went on for a short time until I started to pick up his tells. Even after all these years he still favored his right foot. The idiot Crispin probably didn’t want to correct his darling prince. I side-stepped his next lunge and pivoted my foot to the side before landing a well-aimed sweep. He was on the ground a second later, sword abandoned and mine aimed at his throat.

“Gaomagon ao obūljarion?” I ask with a sharp smile, tilting my head to the side. Aemond glances at my scarred eye and lets out a laugh. Do you surrender?

“Mērī naejot ao Elaena.” Only to you, Elaena.

I shake my head at him with an answering laugh before drawing my blade away from his throat and putting it back into its sheath. I offer my hand which he graciously takes and I help pull him up out of the dirt. I turn to my brothers who look at me with proud looks. Jace even offers a slow clap.

“I’m sure your sister misses me as much as I miss her so I shall see you at the inquisition. Brothers. Uncle.” They all nod towards me as I walk away from the training grounds, loud chatter erupting behind me as I slip through the doors.

I knock on the wooden doors as the guard looks at with suspicion painted across his face but it quickly eases when Helaena throws open the door and envelops me in a hug that has me staggering back before I can start to return it.

“El! Oh how I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, Hel. You look absolutely beautiful as ever.” She offers me a wide smile before pulling me into her chambers and shutting the door behind her.

“I like your eye. Aemond doesn’t like showing his eye so he uses an eyepatch but I’m glad you don’t wear one. Come, I must show you the new additions to my collection.” And that is how we spent the next hour before the Queen walks into the room and takes a seat next to us.

“Hello girls. Elaena, your mother is requesting your presence before you join us at court.”

“Of course, your Grace.” I say as I turn to look at her and bow my head. The amethyst obviously sparkling in the light as I hear her sharp intake of breath. I give Helaena’s shoulder a squeeze and walk out of the room and into the halls. Taking off into a sprint towards mother’s assigned chambers once out of sight of the guard.

“The Queen told me that you need to see me.” I say as I burst through the doors, causing mother to look up from her book.

“Yes, my darling. How was your time with Helaena? I know you’ve been missing her.” Mother said as I enveloped her in a hug while she sat on the sofa in her joint room with Daemon. Said man was sitting next to the fire with a large and very old-looking book.

“It was wonderful. The bugs she has collected are absolutely incredible. It’s too bad I couldn’t bring any of my collection over to show her.”

“Indeed.”

“We heard about your little spar with Aemond in the training yard.” There was a teasing lilt in Daemon’s voice as he didn’t even bother to look up from the pages. I cringed as I sat down next to mother on the couch, laying my head in her lap as she stroked her fingers through the free curls that weren’t tied up in braids.

“We also heard you beat him. Seems like all your lessons with Daemon paid off.” Mother says in an admonishing tone, clearly directed towards Daemon.

“He was making jests about Jace and Luke so I had to remind him who he was talking to. Ser Crispin also never taught him not to favor his feet it seems. Aemond was completely off balance.” Daemon laughs and finally looks up from his book to give me his signature smile. I hear mother let out a breathy laugh above me and she leans down to give me a kiss over the raised skin of my scar.

“I do believe it was Daemon who first made that joke about Ser Criston Cole.”

“His name is Criston? You know that doesn’t suit him at all, I still believe Crispin makes more sense.” It was said that the laugh that Daemon let out that day was heard across the streets of Flea Bottom.

After mother insisted I wear a dress for court, I picked out one of my mother’s old red dresses that was left in the wardrobe and paired it with an equally long embroidered coat that Daemon had gifted me on one of my name days. I now stood in the large hall that surrounded the Iron Throne, periodically tapping my knee against the sheath of the sword - a small act that calmed me against the strangely loud torrent of whispers and the anxiety of the whole situation. They had been suspiciously silent for the past day but had returned at full force once I came into viewing range of the Iron Throne. A rather uncomfortable looking seat for all the troubles it had and will cause. Snow. Men of the dead rise and thirst for blood. Prince that was promised clothed in the deception of a bastard.

The beginning of the accusations went along as smoothly as one could imagine, that was until the great doors burst open and in came the King. Hunched over his cane and with a gold mask covering half of his face. The man I remember from all those years ago had become a shell of himself and pang went through my heart. Great men subjected to rot and poison by inadequate and greedy hands.

The proceedings continued as normal with grandsire quickly rebuffing the threats to Luke’s succession and then well… Vaemond decided to insult my mother.

“And she is…”

“Say it.” I hear Daemon say from somewhere behind me. My hand slips under my coat and grasps the hilt of the sword. The metal slightly hisses as I begin to pull it out of its sheath.

“A whore.”

“I will have your tongue for that.” I hear the King say and out of my peripheral I see him stand up quickly, pulling out a dagger. I look back at Daemon for a split second as he has his hand on Dark Sister. I raise my eyebrows at him and he nods, letting the hilt fall and giving me a wink. I draw the steel completely out of its sheath and in one fell swoop half of Vaemond’s head is lying on the floor in front of me.

“Well he did once say that he would show us how his blood runs true.”

The entire family now sat at the large dining table awaiting the King’s arrival. Alicent and my mother kept trading glances as I traced Valyrian letters into the wood, looking up periodically to catch Helaena’s or Jace’s eyes from my seat at Daemon’s side. A few more minutes passed before grandsire finally appeared - being carried in by four guards. We quickly rose out of chairs, the wood scraping against the stone floor. He was slumped over and looked on the edge of death. We all sat back down when the guards had carried him over to his place in between Alicent and mother.

“How good it is to see you all tonight, together.” The Queen then proceeded to say a prayer to the Seven and I clasp my hands across my lap and listen intently as I scan the faces of my kin.

“... and to Vaemond Velaryon, may the Gods give him rest.” Daemon turns to me at that and we exchange smiles, accompanied by the lowest of scoffs from my part.

I continue tracing patterns and listening to the whispers in my mind as the toasts and speeches continue, taking small sips of my wine as I see others doing so. After Jace’s rather taunting toast, I lift myself out of the seat and raise my wine glass.

“I would also like to raise my glass. To my dearest aunt, you were one of my most treasured childhood companions and I have been missing you greatly throughout these years apart. You have truly grown into a wonderful young woman and it is an honor to call you my friend, as well as my kin.” Mother gives me a warm smile as she takes a sip of her wine and Daemon gives my arm a little squeeze as I sit back down, flashing me one of his rare, genuine smiles.

“Thank you, dear niece. As my brothers can probably account for, I have missed you a great deal as well. Now… I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.” Daemon laughs at my side and I add some of my own laughter as well, but not before giving my aunt a reassuring smile.

I start digging into the food and periodically take sips of wine as I converse with Daemon and my mother, watching Jace and Helaena happily dancing. An idea materializes into my mind and I excuse myself before walking over to Aemond’s chair. He turned to look at me with a peculiar expression on his face as I extended my hand.

“Would you like to dance, uncle?” He wordlessly takes my offered hand and we sweep off into the hall to begin dancing. We mirror each other's movements as the music progresses, going slower and more cautiously than Jace and Helaena. He danced similarly to how he sparred, precise, elegant and sharp.

The merry dancing stopped however when the King slumped over and was carried out of the room, groaning. Aemond and I parted ways and we all started to go back to sit at our places, when a large pig was about to be set down in front of Aemond’s place. Knowing the consequences of this, I popped out my foot and the servant tripped, the pig falling onto the floor and the loud clatter of the silver plate reverberated throughout the dining hall. I slip back over to my seat and Daemon tilts his head with a small smile.

“What was that for you? You know I’m all for your tympir.” He whispers as I sit down. Games.

“Se māzīlarion.” I answer with a wink. The future.

I slipped into grandsire’s room after everyone had dispersed. Mother had decided we would go back to Dragonstone come morning so the servants were busying themselves packing things away and everyone else had already retired.

I had to make sure that the Queen did not put Aegon on the throne and that meant having to prevent grandsire from telling her about the song. And so I sat on the edge of the great bed and carefully took one of his hands between mine.

“Grandsire?”

“I’m sorry. But you wanted to know if I believe it to be true.”

“Grandsire? Is this about the song of ice and fire? Aegon’s dream?”

“Yes. Yes, my dear. It is true. What he saw in the North. The Prince That Was Promised.”

“I know. I know.”

“He will unite the realm, against the cold and the dark. It is you.”

“Grandsire?”

“You are the one.”

Press blade against flesh. Flesh to ice. And let the shadows guide the dragon. I carefully lift up grandsire’s hand and give him a kiss on the knuckles before straightening up and walking over to the blade of prophecy. Picking it up and placing it under my cloak I slip out of the room, making my way to the tower that I knew housed the Hand of the King. Blade against flesh.

Entering the rooms of the man who would basically single-handedly destroy my family, I take out the dagger and find the Hand sleeping with a great pile of documents next to him. The Gods had granted me another change of fate and so I placed the blade against his neck and started to cut away at the flesh, causing his eyes to burst open as he tried to push away from my grip. I held him in place as more of the dark red liquid slid down my hands.

A few moments later he lies there in a pool of his blood, dead. I wipe the dagger clean and step back admiring the sight. Then I methodically start to throw things around the room and sneak away the valuables, making it seem more of a robbery than a planned assassination.

Taking one last look at the room, I sneak back out through one of the hidden tunnels and walk through the shadows of the castle. Placing the blade of prophecy back into its rightful place, fulfilling its call of blood. I get back to my rooms and scrub my hands of the blood and make sure to get rid of the tainted cloak and valuables before slipping under the covers and letting my ancestors' dreams quickly envelop me.

and... that's the end of part 2. hope you all enjoyed it - ik it had a kind of different vibe than part 1 but I wanted to show how El had grown and matured during those years ig. some random thoughts I had during the writing of this:

Elaena's braided hair was totally inspired by Dany's - like she saw that in her visions and randomly decided to adopt it. It probably looks like this but with her curly brunette locks.

2. Otto's death randomly came to me as I was outlining this out and it was totally self-indulgent. I just really wanted to see that man dead.

3. This wasn't the og ending I had planned out tbh but it fit better than what I had been thinking about so it ended up way more open-ended than originally intended.

4. I like to think that El understands and can speak Valyrian because it's kind of like a Percy Jackson situation where the whispers that she gets are all in Valyrian so she naturally can just understand it.

5. Her bond with Cannibal !!! This was one of those things that first popped into my mind when I first started thinking about writing a part 2. I was reminded a lot about Vhagar and Aemond's bond cause I wanted to do something that was the complete opposite. As Dany once said: Dragons are not slaves. El's bond with Cannibal is one of mutual love and trust - they are basically one person. Think about it like soulmates.

6. El is like a year-ish younger than Jace but I don't have a specific age because we don't have any specific age for Jace in the tv show so sorry about that.

7. Daemon and her have this weird father-daughter bond that was also completely self-indulgent. I like to think that he kind of saw a lot of himself in her and Rhaenyra was like go be the father that she never had. Also El calls him uncle cause it was just easier for me to put that in - like calling him father would just be weird for her and technically he is her uncle due to his marriage to Laena.

8. Last one I promise, El doesn't wear an eyepatch due to the fact that she's proud of her sacrifice and because I personally found Aemond incredibly hot when he showed his sapphire eye in ep 10.

taglist: @alexandra-001 . @chevelledahuman

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #hotd x oc #house of the dragon fanfiction #helaena x oc #helaena the dreamer #team rhaenyra #rhaenyra is a great mom #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #my ocs <3

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 years

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All the wrong reasons

Hi, can I request that reader is Chrissy’s BSF and Eddie has a huge crush on Chrissy so he uses the reader to get closer to Chrissy but then ends up falling for the reader & reader eventually finds out that Eddie was js using them? Angst & fluff ending pls. Sorry if it doesn’t make sense.

Requested by anon ❤

Warnings; Angst, angst, guilt, falling in love, heartbreak, 💔 fluff. 💞💞

@strangermarvelss made me the amazing divider ❤ ty so much ❤

Repost as the tags are being so glitchy for me rn 😥

Likes, comments and especially reblogs are very much appreciated. I do not give anyone permission to copy my work 💕

Chrissy had been Eddie's crush for a little while now and he really wanted to get to know her properly.

Being the town "freak" he couldn't just walk up to her and announce he was crushing on her and ask if they wanted to hang out.

Jesus H Christ no, but he did have a plan and it involved her best friend y/n. Chrissy and y/n were like sisters and he figured if he got closer to her then he could get close to Chrissy too.

Y/n was a cheerleader just like Chrissy but actually spoke to him on occasions. She was...sweet and his stomach churned at the thought of using her like this.

It was completely unexpected when Eddie first approached her. She had just finished cheerleading practice and he was going to set up for his club. Hellfire.

"Hey, that was a great cheer routine you all did for yesterday's game". This surprises her that Eddie was there. It didn't seem like his thing because he couldn't stand half the team, especially Jason.

"I wouldn't have expected you to be there, thank you though for what you said. That's really sweet". He nods and then looks nervous.

"So uh if you wanted you could come and watch Hellfire sometime?". She feels a fluttering in her stomach at the blush on his cheeks.

He was so handsome, she had always thought that but the only person she had ever told was Chrissy.

"I could come now, I don't know a lot about it but my little cousin plays it and I'd like to learn more?". He looks stunned at this information then nods and motions her to go first, opening the door to the auditorium.

"Milady". She giggles at his old-fashioned tone and words and heads inside.

She never expected to enjoy Hellfire so much but she does. It's fascinating and she knows not to ask questions during the game but after she talks Eddie's ear off about it.

That extends to Monday at lunch and she invites him over to her table with Chrissy who welcomes him kindly.

They include Chrissy in the conversation about Hellfire too and y/n loves that he's getting on so well with Chrissy who was like her sister, they were that close.

She ignores Jason's protests and invites Eddie to sit with her and Chrissy every day that week, mostly they head over to his table though and she talks with the Hellfire boys too.

Her small crush begins to bloom into something more.

Eddie feels guilt weigh down on him as y/n chats to him happily about his latest campaign, yeah he's getting closer to her and Chrissy is hanging around too but he feels like a fucking fraud.

He thought this would be... Not easy per say but not this fucking hard. It turned out that y/n was a great girl, super interested in Hellfire, nice to his friends and just a sweetheart.

He felt like shit for using her and not for the first time he was beginning to wonder if Chrissy was worth it, she was with Jason, kind to him, yes, but she had always been sweet.

He groans, he hates this. He hates how his friendship with y/n came to pass but he can't say anything now.

Maybe somehow this will all work out.

Movie night was beginning to happen a lot more frequently with Eddie. Just her and Eddie. They talked a lot about anything and everything.

Sometimes the topics were light and fluffy, sometimes they were hard, emotional.

Like she learned Eddie's mother had passed away and his father was a deadbeat criminal.

"Moving in with my uncle Wayne was the best thing that ever happened to me sweetheart, my old man was a criminal and I never want to be like him".

She rushes to soothe him and cups his cheek with her hand.

"You're nothing like him Eds, you're caring, sweet, honest. You are not your father". His eyes shine with wet tears and he swallows hard.

"Y/n there's something I have to tell you". His Uncle Wayne came in at that point and he clammed up, putting the movie on.

Whatever he wanted to tell her, he could do it when he was ready.

He didn't mean to fall for her. He didn't. He was well and truly fucked because their friendship began as a lie and at some point, he would have to confess that because the guilt was killing him.

Spending time with y/n at Hellfire, school, movie nights and phone calls had driven Chrissy far from his mind.

Only y/n filled that space now. He was falling in love with her and he was fucked. Desperate to find some sort of release he decided to confess to Henderson and Gareth.

Maybe they could help him decide what to do? He approached them at lunch and asked to speak to them in private.

The minute they were alone he spilt his guts and confessed everything. Gareth looked annoyed at him but calmed down eventually but Dustin? The look of disappointment on the little shrimp's face? That cut Eddie to the bone.

"You need to tell her, that girl is falling for you Eddie and you're obviously falling for her. You need to come clean and deal with the consequences". Dustin told him sternly.

The butthead was right, he needed to tell the truth. Y/n was going to hate him but it needed to be done. His stomach clenches in nerves.

Would she ever forgive him?

He waits until after school, they are hanging out at her house and he can't concentrate on anything that they are speaking about, his nerves are building and she notices and softens.

"You okay Eds?". Her sweet face peers at him worried and that does it, he breaks down.

"No. No I'm not princess, when we first started hanging out I wasn't clear on my intentions and I feel sick about it". She pauses looking at him confused.

"What do you mean?". Shit shit shit. He takes a breath and it comes out in a rush.

"I had a massive crush on Chrissy and I wanted to get closer to her so I thought if we started hanging out and grew close then that would happen".

She stares at him dumbfounded and doesn't speak for several minutes.

"Sweetheart say something?". He begs and his heart breaks when he sees tears run down her cheeks.

"You were just using me?". She whispers and her eyes are full of betrayal and pain. He tries to hold her, his heart cracking even more when she pulls away.

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry". Sniffing she wipes the tears away and glares at him.

"You just used me, Eddie, how the fuck can you do that to someone? You wanted Chrissy all this time it was all about her?"

"Only for a little bit, not now sweetheart because I fell in love with you, all the time we spent together made me fall head over heels, I'm not interested in Chrissy like that anymore".

Her sobs pierce his heart and she looks at him with heartache written all over her face.

"You love me? That's supposed to make this all better? Our friendship was built on a lie! Get out! Just get out!".

No no... He can't lose her, he can't. Tears fall down his own cheeks and he tries to comfort him desperately but she pushes him away.

"Leave! I hate you, Eddie Munson". The wind feels like it's been knocked out of him, the girl he loves hates him and it's all his fault.

He nods and leaves driving back to his trailer, he must look a mess as he heads inside because Uncle Wayne stands up looking horrified.

"Eddie? What happened son?".

"I fucked up Uncle Wayne, I fucked up real bad". He sobs and is brought into a fierce hug by his uncle as he gets ready to explain everything.

She feels so empty inside. The minute Eddie left all her emotions came out and she called Chrissy in tears.

Chrissy was fuming, nothing much ever made her angry but this had her furious.

She held y/n while she cried, stroked her hair, soothed her and kept Eddie from approaching her.

She just didn't want to see him not now when everything felt so raw and emotional.

Maybe one day but right now she was hurting too much, she thought he liked her for her but that wasn't the case.

At least not at first and that broke her heart into pieces.

1 month later.

"You miss him, Chrissy murmurs gently and he misses you. Look at him". Eddie looked as broken as she felt. God, she missed him but he hurt her so badly.

He was at The Hellfire table, nowhere near his dramatic and exuberant self, he hadn't been for the last month and it made her heart ache.

She shouldn't have said she hated him that was the furthest thing from the truth.

"I do miss him, Chrissy, but what he did sucked". Chrissy takes her hand and squeezes it.

"Forgive not forget but honestly sweetie, I do think he really loves you and I know you love him. Maybe he's worth a second chance. He won't hurt you again. I'd castrate him if he even tried".

This makes her smile a little and when Eddie approaches her looking nervous she decides to talk to him.

The fact y/n and Chrissy who has been super protective of her, will even let him speak is a miracle and he grabs it with both hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby, for everything. I love you. I'm so in love with you. I fell for you so fast and I miss you. I'd do anything to be able to hold you again"

His speech makes her cry and while she's anxious about giving him a chance she knows it's what she wants but slowly and at her own pace.

"I want to be able to trust you, Eddie, that will take time but I do miss you. I'm giving you one chance. If you fuck up again we are done for good".

Relief fills him and he gently takes her hand and kisses it.

"This last month without you has been hell. I will never hurt you again princess. I swear it and I'll prove it to you".

Chrissy glares at him.

"You better Munson. I swear I'll kick your ass if you fuck up again". Chrissy leaves them to talk as the bell rings signalling the end of lunch.

Eddie gulps.

"Shit, she's scary right?". This makes y/n giggle and he lights up at her laugh.

"I promise you, sweetheart. I'll get it right this time, can, can I kiss you? I've wanted to for a long time".

Desire flickers in her eyes and she nods, he leans forward and captures his lips with hers. It's incredible. So fucking perfect.

They break apart and he pulls her into a hug relishing the fact she's in his arms once more.

"Let's start light yeah come to Hellfire tonight as my girl, the boys miss you". Miraculously she agrees and he feels lighter than air, so grateful for this second chance.

He will never fuck it up, he will spend every single day proving to her.

Because she's his soulmate and he never wants to lose her again.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine

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flyinghome-againstthewind · 1 year

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Beside the Seaside: Ch 4

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Jamie had grown used to leaving the door open behind the front desk during his quiet hours of business, giving a window view of his life to anyone walking past the front hallway. It hardly phased him anymore to see a guest peering in, looking for assistance. And for the times he wasn’t watching the doorway with a keen eye, there was the bell on the front desk.

He was finishing up his porridge when he heard the bell ring, and shuffled quickly to the door, catching sight of those warm, amber eyes that had filled his dreams the night before. “Good morning, Mrs. Beauchamp.”

“Did you sleep alright?”

Her abrupt question startled him, sent his mind reeling down the absurd path that somehow she knew his thoughts — knew that he’d dreamt of her. Why on earth would she ask him that question?

But then her gaze flicked to his arm, still held in a sling, and he felt like a prize fool. Aye, that.

“Oh. Aye, the arm wasn’t too much trouble for me.”

He was treated to an easy smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“And ye? I hope the room was to your liking.”

“Yes, the rooms are lovely. I just meant to ask about breakfast yesterday and it slipped my mind.”

“Ah. Well.” He could feel his smile turning sheepish. “We do have a kitchen and I’m working on getting my cook up here as soon as possible, but we dinnae have anything in operation just yet. I hope to be able to serve breakfast soon, but for the time being I have a few nearby places I can recommend.”

“That would be fine, thank you.”

He turned for the assortment of local business flyers that the town council provided and grabbed one with a map. Unfolding on the counter between them, he took a pencil to the map as he spoke. “This one here is closest and the food’s good. But ye have plenty of options too if ye want to explore a little further into town. Lots of shops and cafes along this street. And a bakery here — Faith loves their scones.”

He brought his head up and realized how close they’d moved, bent over the same map, but Claire — Mrs. Beauchamp — was still studying the map. He caught the scent of her shampoo, something light and flowery, and straightened fully, rebelling against every instinct in his body by leaning away from the counter.

“Thank you,” she was saying as she folded up the map. “This will be a great help.” She glanced up briefly with an indulgent smile, “until your cook arrives, of course.”

“Aye. She’s a fine cook too, but she’s a widow and spending time traveling to visit all o’ her grandchildren so I’m not so high on her priorities right now,” he joked.

“You’ve worked with her before then?”

“She worked for my uncles for years. They owned quite a few hotels across the Highlands — Leoch, perhaps ye’ve heard of?” Off Claire’s nod of recognition, he grinned broadly. “I went to work for them after I finished school.”

“And liked it enough to open your own inn, then?”

“It wasn’t the plan,” he admitted. “Thought I would work at Leoch a bit longer, but it wasn’t enough then when I was to be a husband and a father. And then… Well, the war happened.”

Mrs. Beauchamp gave an understanding nod. “But you’re here now.”

“Aye,” he said with a slight smile. “Much to Faith’s delight. Never kent her greatest dream was to try to manage a wee inn all her own at the tender age of seven.”

She laughed at that, and the sound filled the cracks in his chest with its lightness. “She’s a darling. She must keep you and your wife on your toes, though.”

It startled him, briefly, the implication that he still had a wife. He was used to Lallybroch and people who had known him all his life, and even in just a few months, he’d grown used to the close-knit feel of community among the permanent residents of Nairn and how it only took one person learning he was a widower for it to become general knowledge to the rest. It didn’t happen very often that he had to explain his situation.

“She does indeed keep me on my toes, but my wife has passed. It’s only me and Faith.”

“Oh—”

“It’s alright,” he assured preemptively, for he knew by now the guilt that was expressed whenever someone stumbled blindly into that assumption. He did mention being a husband and a father first, so it wasn’t her fault. “How would you have known?”

“Well, I… I am sorry to hear that, nonetheless. It’s hard being the only parent, I know.”

He felt relief at her own revelation, that he didn’t need to find a way to ask the question that had burned on the tip of his tongue since he met her and her son yesterday.

He nodded, gave her a tight-lipped smile of understanding. “Are ye… a war widow then?”

He’d barely gotten the question out before they both heard the creak of the stairs and spotted young Fergus in search of his mother. Claire turned back to him briefly and murmured with a pinched expression, “No, in fact, I’m divorced.”

There could be no response from him as Fergus joined them — and perhaps that had been her intention to seize the opportunity for honesty without further questions. She smiled politely and thanked him for his help before ushering her son out the door in their search for breakfast.

He was a little ashamed of himself, as he watched the two of them leave, to find that Claire’s words had a spring of hope welling up in his chest. For whether she was widowed or divorced, it meant it was no sin to covet her after all.

And covet her he did.

----------

Elijah’s Cafe was only a few blocks towards the center of town, the first place to eat that could be reached from the inn, just as Jamie Fraser had said. Fergus made the decision for them, turning towards the cafe’s door rather than wander any further in search of food. It was a quaint little spot, only serving breakfast and lunch throughout the week. Fergus dropped onto the chair at the table nearest the large front window, and Claire joined him.

A mousy girl of about fourteen took down their order and disappeared into the kitchen. Claire gave Fergus an appraising look and clasped her hands together. “So, I thought we could take today and get the lay of the land, and maybe visit the museum if we have time.”

Fergus made a sound of acknowledgement. “Et la plage?”

“We could scope out the beach too,” Claire agreed a bit dubiously, eyeing the foggy, misty morning outside the window. “I don’t know if it’s the best day for swimming — it looks like it might rain — but we should have plenty of opportunities while we’re here for a good beach day.”

When their breakfast was brought out, they quietly dug in, but had scarcely more than five minutes of peace before the proprietor of the cafe appeared at their table.

“Good morning to you both, my name is Tom Christie. I trust everything is to your liking?” The man’s gaze seemed to linger on Claire, which was prolonged by the awkward fact that she’d taken a huge bite of food just before he’d joined them and couldn’t immediately speak. When she glanced across at Fergus, she noticed with sinking dread that a mischievous spark had ignited in Fergus’s eyes.

“Yes, everything is lovely, thank you,” she hastened to say, hoping to dismiss Mr. Christie, but he seemed in no rush to leave, and so Fergus spoke up as well.

“This food tastes like it was cooked in piss.”

He’d spoken in French, and dressed his words in the politest tone he could manage. Claire’s foot swung out and caught him in the shin, but his pleasant smile to the man only wavered briefly.

“Pardon?” Tom Christie looked to Claire — Fergus’s gamble that he didn’t know French had paid off — and waited for her to translate. She felt her face flame but smiled through it.

“He loves it. Please give our compliments to your cook.”

Tom thanked them and, mercifully, turned away.

“Fergus Claudel Beauchamp,” Claire whispered furiously, but Fergus didn’t even give her the courtesy of pretending to be sorry. Christ, she was raising a maniac. “Why would you say that to a perfect stranger? He hasn’t done anything to you.”

“He seems like a pompous ass.”

“You don’t know that.”

Fergus gave a slight, unrepentant shrug.

Claire sighed and picked up her fork again, turning her attention back to her breakfast. “One of these days someone might actually know what you’re saying, and then you’ll be in real trouble.”

“I like my chances.”

She gave him her most withering stare and he finally began to eat his breakfast again, though he still looked a little too pleased with himself.

While they ate, she tried not to dwell on the fact that she hadn’t had to scold him like that since before they came home. He hadn’t felt like he could be mischievous around Frank. The thought made her stomach sour. When she reflected on how hard Fergus had had to work for an ounce of affection from his would-be father, she wanted to scream for not seeing the warning signs sooner. She’d thought… if she’d just given it time…

Claire didn’t want him insulting strangers by any means, but it was the first glimpse of the tiny terror she’d known back in France to resurface, and that had her both on alert and feeling oddly hopeful.

----------

They ended up starting with the museum, which was housed in a glorious old building and provided some of the local history of Nairn and the surrounding area. Claire found several things that brought a spark of remembrance of her uncle Lamb — like the time they had gotten lost in the Highlands trying to find a dig site, and had to rough it in the Scottish wilderness for a night once the sun went down. Uncle Lamb had then taught her how to build a campfire that fed logs into the fire once the previous ones had turned to ashes. She shared those stories with Fergus as they walked through each room, and noticed when his face lit up over some clever bit of knowledge from Lamb or some part of their adventure that thrilled him. She wondered if he saw how similar their own story had begun in France as her life with Uncle Lamb had — with one willful, curious child, and one unprepared adult thrust into parenthood and just trying to keep their wits.

They ventured out to High Street afterwards, exploring the shops and getting Fergus his promise of sweets. When it was just the two of them in the museum, she could coax smiles out of Fergus, but the farther they walked, stepping into each storefront that drew their interest, she watched her son retreat further into himself with every friendly local who tried to talk to them.

Worst of all, as afternoon had arrived, the sun had emerged and it had turned out to be a lovely day, but they’d wasted too many hours in town to justify trying to fit in a visit to the beach as well. So she let him purchase an exorbitant amount of sweets to make up for it, wanting to see some spark of the boy again from breakfast, from the museum…

He’d thanked her and fallen silent as they strode out onto High Street once more. It would take time, she reminded herself. Rome wasn’t built in a day, Uncle Lamb would’ve said.

But it was more than clear Fergus had at least had his fix of the town for the day, so she steered them back towards the sea.

“You go on ahead, darling,” Claire nodded in the direction of the inn, knowing Fergus could find his way. “I just need to drop something in the post.”

Fergus went without another word, grabbing one of her shopping bags for her. She watched him for a moment, making sure he found the winding road to the inn with no trouble, and then turned back to the post office she’d spotted earlier.

There was still the business of their house in Oxfordshire to sort out; Frank hadn’t wanted it for himself, and Claire hadn’t wanted to stay but it was at present the only permanent residence for her and Fergus. She planned to hold onto it until they found another house but for the next few weeks at least, she’d asked her neighbor Mrs. Blyth to look in on the place for them while they were gone. The letter was for her — a simple thank you, and to let her know they made it safely to their destination, and an address for them at the inn in case it was needed.

The salt-sea air lifted her spirits as soon as she emerged from the post office. She strolled back towards the inn, just her thoughts and the warm breeze to keep her company.

Faith was outside to greet her, drawing a hop-scotch court on the front pavement, and her face split into a wide grin when she spotted Claire. “Hallo, Mrs. Beauchamp!”

“Hello, Faith. Relieved of your desk duties for now?” she teased.

“For now,” Faith said with a nod. “D’ye want to play?”

“Oh,” Claire startled with a laugh. “I don’t know if I’m wearing the right shoes for that, if I’m honest.” They were dress shoes with a slight heel, and she’d already cursed herself for all the miles she’d walked in them today.

“You can do it,” the girl encouraged.

“Well just one run through, I suppose.”

Faith cheered as Claire set her bags down. She shook her head at herself, at how quickly she’d succumbed to the sweet, dimpled smile of one Faith Fraser.

She hopped through Faith’s hand-drawn court with only a pinch of discomfort in her feet, and was treated to a celebratory cheer at the end.

“Your turn now,” Claire told her. “Let’s see it.”

She gave the little girl the same level of enthusiasm once she had taken her turn, and with a gentle, playful tug to one of Faith’s braids, she bid her goodbye for now, turning up the front steps to the Fairy Hill. The front doors were propped open to the late afternoon sun and seabreeze, and she spotted Fergus at the front desk talking animatedly to Jamie Fraser. It gave her pause to see him so happily engaged in conversation that she didn’t realize at first that he wasn’t the only one speaking in French until she caught the easy reply from Jamie in Fergus’s native tongue.

“Maman!” Fergus spotted her return and drew her into their conversation, continuing in French, “Monsieur Fraser says any of the books in the study are available for the guests to borrow. Can I go see?”

Her heart squeezed at the apparent joy this brought him, at the way he’d talked with someone else so openly after months of shutting himself off. She didn’t care if it embarrassed him; she tugged his head closer and kissed the top of his curls, blinking away the brief sting of tears.

“Bien sûr mon chéri.”

With her permission, he was once again off without another word, disappearing into the inviting room just off the main hallway. Claire had only poked her head in there earlier, and loved the feel of the space, with walls lined with books and a scattering of sofas and chairs for lounging.

She turned her gaze to Jamie. “You speak French?”

“A wee bit,” he smiled, sounding every bit the Scotsman once more. “I have some family in France.”

“You’re full of surprises, Jamie Fraser.”

“What about Fergus? How did a wee French laddie end up with such a Scottish name?”

Claire laughed softly. “One of the soldiers bestowed that on him. It was before I met him, so he’s always been Fergus to me.”

Jamie cocked his head at that, but recovered quickly from that admission. Still, Claire voiced the thought she knew he had. “You thought he was mine — my biological son, that is.”

“Aye,” he chuckled, indicating to her hair, which was brown and curly, not unlike Fergus’s, but altogether a different shade and pattern. “Suppose folks see what they want to see, aye?”

“Yes, that’s been true enough for us.”

“Ye met during the war then?”

She told him, as briefly as she could, how Fergus had come to be such a big part of her life, and how she’d come to realize that they needed each other, and her resolution to bring him home once the war ended. She didn’t say how disastrous it had been to try and become a family of three with Fergus and Frank, but having already mentioned her divorce to Jamie this morning, he seemed to connect the dots on his own that these events in her life were closely tied.

His gaze flicked over to the study, to where Fergus was carefully inspecting the titles of one bookshelf.

“The name suits him.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” She took a deep breath, tried to keep the tears out of her voice as she thought of how he’d looked talking to Jamie moments ago. “Thank you, for your kindness to him. For the… the books.”

His smile deepened. “He’s welcome to anything that interests him. He’s a good lad.”

Her throat clogged, and she could only manage a nod. How long had she waited for Frank to make that discovery for himself that Fergus was good and kind and… worthy? A near stranger had somehow seen that in her son after only a few days. She’d been so blind to what was happening within their home for months while Fergus languished.

Jamie’s smile dimmed — dammit, she never could keep her emotions off her face — and his hand covered her own. “Have I said something to upset ye, lass?”

“No, not at all. It’s—” She took a fortifying deep breath and dropped her gaze. “He’s been through so much. I just want better for him now. Whatever I can give him.”

“That I do understand.” When she looked back at him, his gaze had gone to the front doors, through which young Faith could still be seen playing by herself.

“Does she miss her mother very much?”

“She never knew her. Kirstine died in childbirth.”

“God. I’m— so sorry.” Her mind had filled in the gaps around Jamie’s news this morning that he was a widow, and some part of her had assumed Faith had at least had her mother for a time while her father was away.

“Thank ye,” Jamie said, seeming at a loss for what else to say. He leaned forward on the counter, bracing his weight on both elbows, and then seemed to think better of it, withdrawing with the slightest wince. It was then that Claire realized what was missing from his attire.

“You aren’t wearing your sling!”

Jamie looked a little startled and then guilty, like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “It’s alright,” was all he said. Claire narrowed her eyes at him.

“You fell from a ladder only yesterday,” she reminded him, not letting him off the hook. “I’m hard pressed to believe your shoulder is back to normal already.”

“It’s a bit… tender still, aye, but the sling was restricting my movement—”

“As it should.”

Jamie sighed sharply. Inexplicably, Claire felt the tug of a small smile and tried to smother it.

“I’ve gotten under your skin about this,” she started, in a poor attempt at an apology. The rest of what she planned to say fled from her mind when Jamie’s gaze cut to hers, and her stomach fluttered at the heat in that stare — like she had gotten under his skin, only he didn’t mind it…

“It’s alright,” he repeated, though his tone had shifted the meaning of those words into something gentler, something meant for her and not a dismissal of the subject like before. “I’m careful not to strain it, but I didnae want the reminder of what happened, for my wee Faith’s sake. I dinnae want her to think I was badly harmed.”

Claire’s bullishness at wanting to adhere to medical advice softened over his words. “It was an accident.”

“I ken, and I want her to ken that as well. I dinna want her to worry.”

There was more there that Jamie wasn’t saying, that Claire didn’t understand, but she told herself not to push.

“Well,” she began, practicality winning out in the end, “I suppose it would be fine to ditch the sling, as long as you’re careful. And if anything hurts, for God’s sake, stop.”

Jamie let out a huff of a laugh, and Claire’s brows rose to her hairline. He raised one hand — the good arm — in front of himself in a mock gesture for mercy. “I will, I promise. I was only thinking your bedside manner is fit for dealing wi’ the lousy lot of soldiers ye must have tended to.”

“Lousy lot is right,” she teased, giving him a wry smile. “So you wouldn’t want to test me.”

“No, I dinnae think I would.”

She stood there a moment longer, basking in the warmth of his company, until she couldn’t justify a reason to linger; he was working, after all. This was his business, to run the inn and make them feel at home here.

“Well, I won’t keep you.”

“Ach, you’re no’ keeping me,” he reassured even as he let her go. That Jamie Fraser magnetism she couldn’t quite explain — or resist its pull.

She corralled Fergus from the study and walked silently with him up the stairs, her gaze falling to the book now tucked under his arm. Her heart squeezed. She couldn’t help dwelling on the… the home-ness of it all — this place, this once-familiar inn, and Jamie Fraser.

#jamie x claire #outlander #outlander fic #faith fraser #fergus fraser #beside the seaside #ol fic #my fic

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babykentthegent · 4 months

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Lucky 7-Months

Somehow we are nearing the end of the year and what a year it's been! We started the year wanting to adopt a baby and ending the year with a 7-month old. It's been a rollercoaster of a ride, but we wouldn't have it any other way. Kent is learning and growing so fast that it's hard to keep up. His hair is getting long and he now has two little baby teeth in his bottom front gums and two vampire fangs trying to bust through the top. And his personality...he is nothing short of perfection. He's so loving, so silly, and has a way of bringing sunshine into peoples' lives. The love we have for this boy is boundless and continues to grow each day we spend with him. Feels like just yesterday we were flying home from Texas just before summer and now it's almost Christmas!

In the last month, Kent has tried so many different foods. He really enjoys eating solids and is getting better at using utensils. That's not to say that he is clean about it - we find food all over the place, including the ceiling. He just learned that the dogs will lick his hands clean and has turned it into a little game. The friendship he is developing with the dogs is so special and warms our hearts. Between our two giant hounds, his grandparent's small pooch, and his nanny's birds, we think Kent is developing a strong love of animals.

With this year being Kent's first Christmas, we've been considering what traditions we want to either create or carry on with him from our families. The holidays certainly feel more exciting now that we have a kiddo. With Christmas having been my mom's favorite holiday, and her having passed away in December, the last five Christmases have felt like a candle that had been blown out. Kent has brought light and joy back into our lives and this year Christmas feels special again. I can't tell you how many lives Kent has touched with his mere existence, but I can tell you that he has completely transformed ours. As the year comes to an end, we can't help but feel immense gratitude and are so happy for the honor of showing Kent the world.

Some of the traditions we hope to introduce him to:

Reading the Night Before Christmas on Christmas eve

Opening one present on Christmas eve

Leaving out cookies and milk for Santa + carrots for the reindeer

Watching Christmas Story on Christmas eve and Lord of the Rings trilogy (extended edition) on Christmas day and dad's birthday

No Elf on the Shelf for this family - My ADHD brain won't possibly remember to do this every night not to mention Rob thinks it's creepy, haha! To each her own! ;)

Kent got to meet Santa for the first time not once, but TWICE. He did so great and didn't even cry! That was until Santa turned him around to show the camera his booty message. We were no longer in eye sight and he no longer had his parents to reassure him that he was okay. It made for a fantastic photo, though! The second Santa he met was while visiting Rob's family. It was such a nice surprise and Kent loved tugging on Santa's beard. He also got to meet some distant cousins that were closer to his age. His cousin Penelope even taught him how to hug properly. It took a couple eye pokes, but he eventually figured it out.

Kent has been surrounded by family and loved ones this month. He really seems to be social and loves interacting with everyone. So many people have told us how good he is, how he never fusses, and is such a laid back baby. This kid is all smiles and is so good at communicating what he needs. Kent spent time with multiple grandparents, aunties, uncles, and cousins. He loves everyone and everyone loves him. <3

Christmas is just about here and we could not be more excited! We know he'll likely only be interested in the wrapping paper and less on the gifts themselves, but I am just grateful that we get to experience his first Christmas together and to begin our family traditions.

Happy new year to everyone reading! We hope that 2024 is full of new adventures and more happy memories ahead!

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kathleenmarymulligan · 1 year

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The Good...

January 26, 2023 (Thank you, Kathy Sabino! I was stuck in 2022!)

Yesterday was Republic Day in India. The day in 1950 when the constitution of a new, independent India came into effect. Interesting that I find two different meanings of the holiday on Google. The other: that it is the day in 1930 that the Indian National Conference committed to independence.

We learned, the hard way, that it is not an ideal day to travel! With no explanation offered (and combined with my ignorance about the holiday), our original two flights to Varanasi were cancelled last week- then one of the replacement flights (from Delhi to Varanasi) was changed to 30 minutes earlier departure. We thought we’d make it—but we didn’t understand the madness of Delhi airport. We had to shift terminals (two different airlines)—and that is like shifting to a completely different airport. 30 minutes to travel from one to another—as we watched the window for our connection whither away. Finally, it was explained that airspace was being cleared from 10-12 for an airshow celebrating the holiday. Ah. Welcome to India. This must have been decided last week: thus, the cancellations and changes.

It all worked out fine. We checked into a nice Radisson near the airport (a little pricey for us- but we were exhausted and stressed.) We ordered in pizza, drank beer from the minibar (Republic Day a “dry day” for the city)- and best of all, I took advantage of the hot shower and STEAM ROOM in the spa. After a month of dicey hot water and bucket baths—it was glorious.

Now on to Varanasi, which promises to be an adventure, so I wanted to get caught up.

The last week has been one of big highs and big lows. I think I’ll focus on the highs, for now.

Last Saturday, we traveled with three students to border villages to interview Partition survivors and others with family stories from relatives who have passed. At every stop we were welcomed with incredible warmth and hospitality. We met one Partition survivor—the great grandfather of our travel companion Hardeep. This gentleman was twenty at the time, (making him now 95/96). His wife and infant daughter traveled by train across the border (a risky journey—many trains arrived at their destination full of slaughtered men, women, and children). He traveled on foot with a kafila. Of course, the wife and daughter would arrive long before he did—and the husband and wife made a plan to meet at a certain bridge near their destination. Days later, they were reunited—all safe. He told us he left many Muslim friends back in Pakistan—and he pulled out a well-worn diary to show us their phone numbers. They remain in touch to this day.

After that interview, we visited various homes of our student hosts. One village we visited was Batala. By a rather incredible coincidence, I had received a message that morning from a friend, Umar, who Sarah and I met in Islamabad back in 2015. He had arranged for us to interview his grandfather, a Partition survivor. Due to tight security in Pakistan, it was the one interview I was able to attend for our 2015 project, and I fell immediately in love with the grandfather. I remember his story of traveling on a train to Pakistan with his uncle. The train was attacked, and they were separated. For days, they did not know if the other had survived. Finally, they made it to a refugee camp, where they waited for the women and children of their family to join them. It took several weeks, in which time they had no information about the welfare of those family members.

Umar messaged me that morning to tell me that it was the one-year anniversary of his grandfather’s death. He wondered if we had a copy of the interview and expressed his regret that he didn’t ask for it at the time. I promised to look into it and asked him what village his grandfather had emigrated from. Batala. I couldn’t believe it. We were going there that day! He did not know the specific address. But I promised to send a picture and to say a prayer for his grandfather. I sent these pictures of the green fields around Batali, and he wrote back that his grandfather shared how he used to sneak into those fields to get fruit as a boy. Umar said, “ This is so calming for me to see—in a strange way I feel connected to this place.”

In addition to the family visits on that day, we visited a special border corridor open to Indian nationals wishing to visit one of the Sikh sacred sites now in Pakistan. This was one of the tragedies of Partition. The Punjab is the home of the Sikhs and the origin of their religion. When Radcliffe drew his line, many of the most sacred sites (including the birthplace of the first guru) were in Pakistan. We were not allowed to cross over (only Indian citizens.) But we could see, up close, that harsh metal fence cutting through the fields.

Our last stop was at the shores of the Ravi River. One lonely soldier seemed to be in charge of that outpost—and the poor guy was in a shower stall bathing at the time of our stop. We tried to steer clear and give him some privacy! The spot was breathtaking—and we looked across to Pakistan on the opposite shore. I imagined the refugees from both sides stealing across –most likely at night—praying that they and their families would cross safely.

The next day we were off to the border villages again, this time with director Emanuel and student Priya, who has been serving as one of our translators. Again, we were welcomed with unparalleled hospitality. The interviews with Partition survivors were gatherings for the whole family. One of my goals for this project is to connect young people with the stories of those who came before them—and I was happy to see family members young and old sitting and listening as their elders talked.

And wow, do they talk! It is as if these stories have been waiting to burst forth for decades. Once each got started, the stories poured out. We only got occasional translations, and that was fine. The stories were recorded and collected—that was the objective.

I have nicknamed the first woman we interviewed the Apple Dumpling Lady. I remember seeing those folk dolls from New England with faces created out of dried apples. Her face reminded me of one. What an incredible face! She was, as far as we could calculate, 88--and sharp as a tack (as have been all of the survivors so far.) At the end of the interview, I went to thank her and she blessed me. I loved her.

Later that day, we arrived at the house of a friend of Emanuel’s. After a warm welcome from the family, a son visiting from Canada told us that they had arranged for us to interview the couple next door: both Partition survivors and both in their 90’s. “Would you like to go to them, or would you like them to come to us?” I said that considering they were in their 90’s, wouldn’t it be best if we went to them?!

We walked across the road and entered the traditional courtyard (complete with cows.) We were welcomed by generations of the family, and then ushered into a small room in which a man and a woman wrapped in layers of blankets and shawls (it was very cold!) sat on charpoys. They had both emigrated in 1947- both at 13 years old. They married two years later and have been married for 73 years. He told us that she traveled by foot and had more stories—so he let her do most of the talking. While I didn’t understand much, I did learn that she was one of three daughters in the family. She traveled on foot with her sisters and her parents. They left most of their valuable possessions in Pakistan (like so many, they assumed they would return after things cooled down.) Her father said, “If I reach India and my wife and daughters are safe, everything I value will be with me.” At night, she said, the women in the kafila slept in the middle, encircled by the men, who took turns keeping watch. They all made it safely across the border after 22 days. “Your father did what he said he’d do”, I said. She nodded—her eyes filling with tears.

Every visit includes the essential group photo. And then, often, individual photos with various family members or groups.

Also- the random people we pass by who want a photo with us, or one with us and their children. I should have quite a collection by the end of this journey.

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badarthistorian-blog · 14 days

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4/14/24

I'm back.

Well, I guess I shouldn't say I'm back - really, what I mean is that I went back to my alma mater yesterday (undergrad, not grad), sat in the crowd while current seniors presented their final BA thesis papers, reminisced about how much I miss the art world, and left the presentation feeling like I just had to do something to scratch that "why did I ever leave art behind, I need to get back to it right now!" itch.

What hasn't happened in the eight years since I was last here? The 2016 version of me who wrote the few posts that follow did have it rough, yes (it's hard not to look back at those entries and remember how lonely that time of my life was) - but little did she know that she only had a few years left of calling herself an arts professional. Years that I don't think I would redo necessarily, but I might have sunk my teeth in a little more if I could predict the detour my career path would take.

I only lasted in NYC for another month after my last post. I experienced some of the best times of my life in the four months I was there, but damn was it lonely. I was lucky enough to have a very good friend who lived in the city just a train ride away and who was there for almost every one of those best experiences, but my job sucked; my living space sucked; my boss sucked. If even one of those things was better it might have made all the difference, but it wasn't meant to be.

I packed my two suitcases and moved to New England on December 23, 2016. If it wasn't for the friends I'd made in grad school (and, let's be honest, my boyfriend at the time), I'd have no doubt ended up back at home in the Midwest. But I also had an opportunity I couldn't pass up - managing a photography gallery, essentially my dream job.

In the three years I was at the gallery, I saw, matted, framed, shipped, and catalogued some of the best works the history of photo has to offer. I worked a week-long photo show back in NYC and, again, experienced some of the most standout moments of my life (clearly NYC has that power over me; as my uncle would say, "that city has jazz in the air").

I stayed at the gallery for almost three years before one owner retired and the other decided to shift to an at-home gallery - aka, I was out of a job.

And that's how I landed in fundraising. A series of subsequent steps led me back to the Midwest and into a more suitable fundraising position for my personality (research-based, behind-the-scenes, and a bit more covert than asking for gifts). The boyfriend I had in New England is now my sweet husband. We travel, see family often, and are very happy.

But.

Yesterday, I caught up with one of my old professors. My history of photo professor, to be exact. He remembered what I'd shared with him during my last update - from 2017, when I was just learning the ropes of photo gallery management. When he asked what I was doing now, I told him and tried not to sound too bashful about no longer being in the art world. His response was, "That's great, but you were so close - you had your foot in the door." Polite, but disappointed. A not-so-subtle way of reminding me that I was there! I was doing it! I was a successful art (photo) historian!

But then... I left it behind. And I left it behind for all the reasons I started Bad Art Historian in the first place.

I found that the people who worked in the art world full-time weren't much better than the students who went through my grad program with me. Often, they were standoffish. I fairly consistently felt like I wasn't in on the joke, or that I wasn't doing art "right" because I wasn't high brow enough. I was intimidated by the people I indirectly worked with, and as someone who very much thrives on connecting with others, this left me feeling rejected.

That's not to say I didn't try. When my boss told me the photo gallery would be closing, I applied for plenty of art jobs. Assistant curatorships, gallery sitters, program coordinators. None of them worked out. Fundraising fell in my lap, and I wasn't in a position to deny it.

Honestly, It felt like a good change - welcome, in fact, especially when I very quickly realized that the people on my team were my kind of people. Friendly, outgoing, social, and supportive.

Which makes my photo professor's comment all the more rattly, because I had to remind myself that I left for a reason. I still hope that life will lead me back to the arts - but I don't think I betrayed myself by leaving in the first place. Accepting - and being okay with - that choice is difficult, but a worthy endeavor nonetheless.

Anyway. I'm back - maybe? We'll see how long this renewed energy lasts. But in this moment, I'm glad to be here.

#bah #bad art historian #arthistory #career choices #career path #monologue

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echoxshxrx · 8 months

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Welp...

It's 5:30 am and I feel physically worse than yesterday and mentally I'm absolutely fucked. My child isn't sleeping through the night causes he's still a little sick (she's the one that got me sick) so I have to stay up and deal with it even though I legit feel like death cause her dad is fucking useless and is already fighting with me this morning, I had a job but I got sick and can't start yet so they're moving on with other applicants, my great uncle passed away last week and no one fucking told me shit cause my family thinks they walk on eggshells with me having anxiety so that means they can't tell me when other family members are in the hospital, (it's mainly my mom that does this. She didn't even tell me my aunt was having surgery on a vein in her leg only reason I found out is cause I'm close with my aunt and she told me.), my daughters dad's mom is a fucking psycho and he's in no rush to move out (I don't wanna get a place with him but there's no way on God's green earth I'm gonna be able to get a place on my own. 99.9999999% of places pay $11/hr and expect people to be able to pay 1300/month for a 1 bedroom apartment.), my daughter isn't in daycare so I CANT work full time even if I wanted to (she's on a waiting list), and the cherry on top of the fucking cake is last night one of my fucking heros passed away. Many people do not know how much Bray means to me because I don't talk about it a lot, but I found Bray in a time when I was so lost mentally and so scared of being me....Of being an openly trans man who has a biological child...scared of being my dumbass goofball self and he helped me learn that its OKAY to be anything and anyone you want to be so long as you don't hurt yourself or others. Bray (along with a few others) is the reason I'm dead fucking set on wrestling....now I'll never get too see him wrestle live. I'll never get to hug him and tell him how much light his words and his creations brought me in a time of extreme darkness....

Idk...I had to get what was on my mind out sorry yall gotta deal with it.

#echo has a breakdown on main

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moralesispunk · 2 years

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I’ve Been Dreaming, of a White Christmas

Frankie Morales x Wife! Reader

Day 12 of my 12 Days of Christmas

Summary: It’s the first Christmas since the mission and Frankie spends a quiet few hours reflecting before you wake up

Warnings: mention of angst, Frankie’s ptsd and struggles after the mission, Frankie and reader in an established relationship, Frankie and reader have a baby together

A/n: this is the last! I did mean to post yesterday but I fell a bit behind with posting! It did, however, help with me get out of my writing rut and I've finally finished the next chapter of fisherman frankie coming this week!

Since you had started going out with Frankie no two Christmases had been the same.

There had been ones where you visited his family and ones where you visited yours, there had been times where he was deployed over Christmas and others where you had spent it alone together.

It was Sofía’s second Christmas this year; at just over a year still too young to have grasped the concept of Santa or present, but old enough to feel the excitement that buzzed around her and shriek happily when her eyes would land on the presents. The year before Christmas had been spent in your house, both your families travelling in for the big day so they could spend it with the newest addition to the family, but this year there was no travelling.

It had been just over seven months since Frankie had come home from his trip with the guys, five months since he had got his licence back but decided to give up flying, three months since your little family moved out of town for Frankie to take over a great-uncle in his father’s side’s garage. It had been the best decision for you all; Frankie’s mind had cleared since moving out here and starting fresh and you found it easier to make peace with what happened when you weren’t waking up in the house you had paced every day for two weeks straight. It was also the perfect excuse to give to your families, Frankie phoning his Mom and you phoning your own when you explained that this year it would just be you, Frankie and Sofía in the new house.

The house was still half decorated - a bit of a “fixer-upper” that you had fallen in love with and decided to take over doing up while on parental leave - but Frankie had made sure to bring out all the decorations in time for Christmas.

He had woken up as usual at 6am, the sky still a deep navy and a chill passing through the house from the old doors that Frankie had been meaning to fix. He could hear Sofía stirring on the monitor, tiny grunts as she moved between being asleep and awake. It was still too early to wake up, no rushing about today when it was just the three of you, and so he quietly slipped from bed to go to Sofía.

The slippers scuffed across the hall into her room, her eyes already wide as though she sensed him coming and her legs kicking happily in the air.

“Morning baby girl,” he whispered down to her, lifting her into his arms and holding her against his shoulder.

She gurgled happily in his arms, one of her chubby fists curling into his t-shirt and the other gripping tightly onto her bunny’s ear as he walked over to the window to take a look outside. The trees were dusted in a thin white layer, bright under the glow of the moon, and he could see sparkling lights in the distance from houses who were already awake and opening presents. He knew it wouldn’t be long before it was the same in this house, Sofía bounding into the room to wake you both up and drag you towards the presents that Santa had left.

Sometimes thoughts began to crawl into his house about what he almost lost, this beautiful family that gave him a reason to fight every day, but he was learning to push those thoughts away. He did make it home and even though he wasn’t sure if you ever would, you forgave him and held him in your arms every night - there was no point living with what ifs.

With his gentle rocking back and forth he felt Sofía grow heavier in his arms, her blinking growing slower and slower until she was softly snoring against his shoulder. With a kiss against the top of her head he bent down to lift the teddy she had dropped and headed back to your shared room.

You were still fast asleep, your hand reaching out to his now cold side of the bed as he peeled back the covers and climbed in carefully so as not to wake you. He knew he wasn’t going to fall asleep, laying Sofía between you both and turning on his side to rest his hand on her back.

He smiled softly, your faces similar in sleep as you both tilted your chins up and left your mouths open with soft snores.

He knew it would be another two hours before either of you woke again, and then you would go down stairs and open presents, watch Christmas films, eat good food, before he would make love to you after you share your presents by the tree once Sofía was asleep, and so he was content to stay like this until you did; watching the two most important people in his life within arms reach.

He would never, could never, risk losing this again.

tags

@phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @queridopascal @sfr99 @rosiefridayrogersunday @tintinn16 @pilothusband @voteforpedro09 @dihra-vesa @frankiecatfish @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @mamacitapascal @transias @peoniarose @pjkimrn @fangirl-316 @niki-xie @potted–ivy @phandoz @janebby @dobbyjen @agingerindenial @mishasminion360 @hb8301 @blub-senpai @mashomasho @adriiibell @darnitdraco @dragonsondragons @mysteriouslyfuzzypeach @ayrusss @lovesbiggerthanpride @girlofchaos @dinsangelx

tag list form in bio! if there is a score through your @ it is because I have been unable to tag - you may need to change your settings!

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie morales x female reader #Frankie catfish Morales x female reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales

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stitch1830 · 3 years

Text

Walls

What's this? Oh, this is my angsty Kantoph agenda :)

...............

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve asked me in 20 minutes. And you know the answer.”

Kanto quietly chuckled. “I know, I know. I just worry.”

Toph smiled. She knew he worried. But there was no need for that, now. Things were good. They were so good.

An indignant cry filled the air, and the two froze in the bed when Lin squirmed in Toph’s arms, worried that they had woken her up. But when she settled back into place, Kanto remarked, “She’s so tiny.”

“You didn’t have to push her out of your vagina,” she scoffed.

“I know that, but she’s just… this is the smallest she’ll ever be, you know?”

“Did you want a bigger kid to rip through me or something?”

“What’s with all the snark?” he quietly teased. “I’m trying to have a moment with you and our daughter.”

Toph chuckled. “Sorry, I cried way too much today, just trying to make up for it.”

He said nothing in response, just kissed her temple as he gently held onto Lin’s fingers. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, soaking in the realization that they were an actual family now. For months, they tried to wrap their heads around the prospect of it and what it would mean when their baby arrived. But the actual moment itself was an entirely separate and unique experience from the mental preparation, something that one could only understand once they went through it themselves.

And to think only hours ago their plans for the day were completely different than this. Toph found herself smiling at the thought. Just a few hours earlier, she had been restless and running around the house, trying to induce labor, and subsequently freaking out when she forgot his birthday. It wasn’t until she actually sat down with him to try to relax that Lin decided she was ready to enter the world. Some birthday, Toph thought.

She broke the silence with a silly comment. “Sorry for ruining your birthday.”

Kanto shook his head quickly. “Don’t say that. This was the best birthday of my entire life. Lin was the best gift ever.”

“You’re not even mad that I forgot earlier today?” she teased.

He shrugged. “At least you’ll never forget it again.”

“Yeah, now I have to plan two birthdays. Fuck.”

“Language.”

“Yes, ‘fuck’ is a word.”

Kanto lovingly sighed at Toph’s antics, then said, “Perhaps it’s time for a nap.”

“Maybe in a bit, I just wanna sit here for a little longer with her.”

“Okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on Toph’s shoulder. “So, what do you think we’ll do for our birthday next year?”

“What?”

“Well, I just don’t see how you’re gonna top this. I mean, you gave me the most perfect baby girl in the world, just not sure how you’ll beat this gift.”

“Who says I have to?” she demanded.

“Societal norms. Me,” he joked. “You know, another perfect baby would probably—”

“Don’t even fucking joke about that!” she laughed. “I just gave birth to this melon head, and you’re already talking about another??”

He shrugged. “Lin would be a great big sister. I can feel it.”

“Yeah, well. Keep dreaming, Hotshot.”

“My reality is better than any dream I could think up.”

“Wow, that was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, but it made your heart melt, didn’t it?”

Toph paused in her retort, because it did melt her heart. He was right; their reality was better than any dream, and their future as a family together was going to be absolutely amazing. For now, though, she enjoyed the present moment: Lin in her arms, and Kanto’s wrapped around her. The first moments they shared as a family, and it was absolutely perfect.

He seemed to have forgotten that he was waiting for a comeback from Toph, for he quietly cooed at their baby, “Happy birthday, Linny. I can’t wait to celebrate our birthdays together next year. Hopefully Mama won’t forget,” he teased, then bent down to kiss Lin’s tiny fingers in his hand. When he sat up, he turned Toph’s head toward his and kissed her on the lips, and after, they let out a content sigh for the perfect moment they were living.

~~~

Toph let out a dreaded sigh, exhausted from living in her nightmare of a life. She couldn’t bring herself to face her friends or even her daughter right now, but they were all gathered at the Fire Nation palace to celebrate Lin’s very first birthday. An occasion that should have filled her heart with immense joy, but she couldn’t bear to even crack a smile, because her mind always drifted to that conversation she had with him just a year prior. So, for the start of the party, Toph hid from the world, trying to pull her shit together and put on a stoic face for all her worrisome friends. It always took longer than she expected to do so, and timed inhales and exhales did nothing to dissipate the creeping wave of grief that threatened to spill out.

She sighed again. How time had changed so quickly. What she would give to escape to her dreams to leave this shitty reality.

But she couldn’t. She had to soldier on and put on a brave face for her friends. For her daughter.

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, and she shut them quickly and dug her nails into the palm of her hands. No, she couldn’t cry, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. She swallowed the lump that formed in the back of her throat and she took one shaky breath before it was time for the ‘celebration’ to begin.

……

Katara held onto the birthday girl as she smashed chocolate cake in her hands and up to her face, smiling despite tension in the air. She couldn’t believe Lin was already one! It felt like yesterday that Toph told her she was pregnant, and was shocked at the fact that a year had passed since she helped deliver Lin into the world. Time really did fly by, and she could only hope Toph noticed some of those happy moments in time. Even if most were tainted.

She looked over at Toph, who sat on the opposite end of the room with a glass of water in her hand, mindlessly nodding to whatever Aang had to say to her. Toph’s tired eyes, slouched posture, and her ever-so-slightly trembling hands made Katara’s heart break for her friend. Toph put on such a brave face for the world after Kanto’s death, but Katara never would’ve thought she’d have to do that around friends, too.

Her focus for the rest of the evening fell between Lin and Toph, switching every so often to detect any change in Toph’s demeanor and to Lin whenever she became restless in Katara’s arms. But the waterbender found herself mostly glancing over at Toph, trying to think of something that could lift her spirits. There wasn’t much that could brighten up the somber undertone of the party, if anything at all.

Perhaps… Perhaps it wasn’t about fixing the grief today. Perhaps the best thing for Toph wasn’t to cover up the conflicting feelings of joy and sadness, but to learn to accept both. They had been trying to distract her from those emotions, but the walls in her heart had cracks in the foundation, and it was only a matter of time before they might break.

And Katara knew what had to be done.

It wasn’t until Zuko asked for some “Lin time” that Katara had an opening to speak with Toph. But when she stood up to meet her, Toph had quietly snuck away out of the party room, likely to find some place where she could be alone.

Despite knowing Toph’s desire for solitude, Katara had other ideas. She cut a small piece of cake that remained and ventured out into the vast halls of her home to find her friend. It didn’t take long, considering Katara knew most of the hiding places, but Toph wasn’t even hiding. The earthbender simply made a quick turn around the corner and fell to the floor, quietly sobbing into her knees.

Katara fought off the tears that pricked at her eyes as she sat down next to her. They said nothing, but let the quiet sniffles and cries fill the silence. When Toph settled for a moment, Katara decided to speak. “Lin’s perfectly happy with her aunt and uncles in the other room.”

Toph said nothing, but her blind gaze pierced the wall across from them as she bit her quivering lip and waited for Katara to continue her speech. So, she said, “I know today’s about Linny, but I brought us some cake to share for someone else’s birthday.”

Her friend choked out a breath, instinctively reaching for Katara’s hand. She gladly gave it to Toph, and Toph continued to point her gaze straight ahead as she clung to Katara’s hand, squeezing the life out of it.

He should’ve been there, but the world had other plans. Instead, Toph and Katara sat on the old, worn carpet of the palace halls, grieving the loss of a partner and a friend. And he was a dear friend to Katara. His crooked grin never failed to make Katara smile, and her heart warmed every time she caught him glancing at Toph as if she was the only person in the world. And whenever he entered a room and Toph noticed, she would smile so warmly at him that Katara knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was in love with the man. Katara recalled a time when those thoughts gave her happiness and joy, to know that her best friend found a man and a partner that would love her and treat her right for the rest of her life.

She didn’t realize he would only do those things for the rest of his short life.

Katara didn’t fight back her tears, anymore. There was no point. And with a quiet, shaky breath, she whispered, “Happy birthday, Kanto.” The first of many birthdays he was supposed to share with his daughter, but wouldn’t.

Toph cried out at the mention of his name, hugged Katara fiercely, and sobbed into her shoulder as they sat there. Over their cries, Katara faintly heard the quiet commotion of the birthday celebration occurring in the other room.

#kantoph #atla #lok #toph #toph beifong #kanto #lin #lin beifong #katara #writing #one shot #i think? i forget the requirements of a one shot #and krast told me what this kind of story was i'm sorry buddy i forgot smh #like a boomerang i always come back to you series #the long winding road to you #also i just realized she never did top his bday present the next year #you know... cuz he's dead #ope #angst

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reinerispretty · 4 years

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rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt17

there’s a lil easter egg in here :) wonder who can find it first!! thanks so much for reading i lov u

pt1

pt16

pt18

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko asked. His amber eyes were transfixed on the tent before him.

“I think you know that isn’t true.” (Y/N) took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be with the others if you need me.”

When the group awoke the next morning, Aang was gone. Each member searched high and low for the young Avatar, but to no avail. “I don’t really think this is the time for him to go on one of his special Avatar journeys,” Toph grumbled, to which (Y/N) hummed in agreement. As the group reunited after their searches, Zuko proposed the idea of utilizing the bounty hunter June and her shirshu Nyla in finding Aang.

“Isn’t she the one who paralyzed me?” (Y/N) asked bitterly.

“And me?” Sokka chimed in.

“And me?” Katara added. Zuko shrugged.

“Her shirshu can track someone down from across a continent. If anyone can find Aang, it’s her.” (Y/N) was not interested in the idea of procuring a bounty hunter to find Aang, but it was their only hope.

And that hope was quickly squandered. When they found June and convinced her to help them, her shirshu couldn’t locate Aang.

“Is he dead?” (Y/N) asked. June shook her head.

“Nyla would be able to smell his body. Your friend isn’t in this world anymore.” What that meant exactly, the group had no idea. Even when Aang traveled to the Spirit World, his physical body remained in the physical one. How could he have just disappeared?

“Try this, then,” Zuko said, holding up a piece of clothing to Nyla’s nose. The shirshu sniffed and immediately turned in the opposite direction, ready to dart off into the woods.

“Whose is that?” Katara asked.

“It’s my uncle’s. If anyone will be able to tell us what to do, it’s him.”

Nyla led the friends to the outer wall of Ba Sing Se, where they were met by King Bumi, Master Pakku, and the other great masters they had met over their travels.

“How do you all know each other?” Sokka asked.

“We are all part of the Order of the White Lotus,” Piandao explained. “An organization that transcends loyalty to our nations and instead comes together to fight for the common good.”

“Does that mean my uncle is here?” Zuko asked. Piandao nodded. The six friends were led into the main camps, where many tents had been set up to house other members of the Order. As (Y/N) passed, she recognized a few of the members as people she had known during her time traveling the three nations. Citizens of the Fire Nation that were also part of the Order seemed to be few and far between, but (Y/N) supposed their numbers deteriorated after nearly a hundred years of pro Fire Nation propaganda.

The biggest tent of them all belonged to the Grand Lotus: Iroh. The rest of the group dispersed to discuss battle plans, leaving (Y/N) and Zuko paused just paces away from the entrance of the tent.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko asked. His amber eyes were transfixed on the tent before him.

“I think you know that isn’t true.” (Y/N) took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be with the others if you need me.” Her fingers slid from his and Zuko turned to watch her walk away before taking a deep breath and entering his uncle’s tent.

(Y/N) sat between Sokka and Katara as they listened to Master Pakku describe the Order’s plans to liberate Ba Sing Se. He paused as she joined their group.

“Ah, (Y/N). Glad to see you’re back in the clothes of your home nation.” It was a joke of course, a nod to the last time they had seen each other.

When the Fire Nation was attacking the Northern Water Tribe, (Y/N) had felt defenseless while fighting off the Fire Nation soldiers, so she had unleashed her firebending on them. Soldiers from the Water Tribe had captured her as a spy and it had taken a lot of convincing from Katara that she really was trying to fight against the Fire Nation. It was an embarrassing misunderstanding that led to (Y/N) to choose hand-to-hand combat over her own firebending if she could help it.

“Evening, Master Pakku,” (Y/N) said with a smile.

“Do you really think Iroh and the other firebenders will be powerful enough to take back the city?” Sokka questioned. Both Pakku and (Y/N) nodded.

“His power as a firebender is unparalleled,” Pakku explained.

“He might look like a sweet old man, but he is one of the best firebenders in the entire nation,” (Y/N) added. “I learned some of my best techniques from studying how he fought. Plus the comet will only make firebenders even more powerful.”

“Yeah, but you’re fighting against Fire Nation soldiers,” was Sokka’s rebuttal. “Won’t they be more powerful too?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I don’t mean to sound like a snob, but people like Iroh and I spent a lot more time training than those lousy soldiers. It’ll be a long fight, but not a hard one for Iroh.”

Almost as if he had been summoned, Iroh exited his tent with Zuko as his side. (Y/N) recognized the glistening trails of tears on Zuko’s face, but also saw the happiness in his eyes.

“(Y/N)!” Iroh cheered. She smiled widely and stood to run over and give him a hug. “It is very good to see you again.”

“And you the same,” she said, giving him a bow. “It feels like just yesterday that we broke out of the Fire Nation prison.”

“This is who broke you out?” Katara asked. Iroh chuckled.

“You think I would let the only other sane person in the Fire Nation stay in jail?” They returned to the campfire to further discuss their plans for the comet. Iroh poured them all cups of tea as Zuko and (Y/N) sat next to each other. Katara was the only one who caught the look of surprise on his face and she returned it with a smile as she accepted her cup of tea.

“Katara,” Zuko said. “How would you like to come to the Fire Nation to help (Y/N) and I take down Azula?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Katara said with a grin. The situation still gave (Y/N) a heavy feeling in her stomach, but sometimes the right thing was the hardest thing to do.

Eventually, (Y/N’s) friends and the other members of the Order dispersed from the campfire to retire for the night. Only (Y/N) and Iroh remained, finishing off the pot of tea.

“I see you and Zuko reconciled,” Iroh hummed as he sipped his tea.”

“For the most part, yes.” Iroh was the easiest person to talk to, (Y/N) found. When she was younger and had not even her own parents to turn to, if Iroh was visiting, he would lend her an ear. “I think I’ve forgiven him. Part of me still gets mad thinking about the things he’s done to me and my friends.”

“That is only natural. The heart cannot forget the wounds that it has endured, but it can heal from them.” (Y/N) nodded.

“I’m trying to.”

“I always thought you and Zuko were the most interesting pair.”

“How so?” Iroh sat in silence for a moment as he pieced his thoughts together.

“You are strong in your beliefs. You are not afraid to be defiant if it means doing what is right. I remember when you were younger, I heard you arguing with your mother about why you should continue your firebending training. You told her that you did not care what she wanted you to do, because you knew becoming a better bender would make you stronger.” Iroh chuckled.

“Zuko had told me to say that, so I could stay in training with him. She gave me the punishment of a lifetime after I said it.”

“I am sure. But Zuko was not granted the same strength as you. He is loyal to the people he cares about, which is why it was so hard for him to choose what was right and wrong. He loved you and I but loved his father and Azula as well.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brows. She wasn’t quite sure where Iroh was going with this, but then again, was anything he said ever straightforward?”

“You pushed Zuko to make the right choices and he pushed you to stand up for yourself. As I watched you grow up, I noticed how you rotated around each other. Like the moon and tides, you and Zuko were always the driving force behind the other.”

“Until he was banished.”

“Zuko fought so hard to capture the Avatar because he wanted to restore his honor and return home to you. He will never admit it, but that is all he wanted.”

“And I guess here I was, fighting against my home for doing horrible things and taking someone I cared about away from me.”

“We are all connected, but no matter how hard you or Zuko tried to cut the thread that tied the two of you together, it is indestructible.” Iroh finished the last of his tea and stood. “You must rest. We all have a big day ahead of us.”

(Y/N) watched as Iroh returned to his tent. She squashed out the dying fire. and made her way back to the tens she and her friends had been given. Katara and Toph slept in the first one, Suki and Sokka in the next, and Zuko lay fast asleep in the last one.

(Y/N) crawled into the spot beside him, feeling the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on her body. She lay on her back and instantly fell asleep.

Katara woke the next morning and decided to rouse (Y/N) and Zuko first, since they would be traveling to the Fire Nation together. She pulled open the door to the tent to see (Y/N) snoring on Zuko’s chest, with Zuko’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

Katara dropped the tent door and walked away. She could give them a few more minutes.

---

Tag List!

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#atla #avatar #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #katara #sokka #aang #toph #zuko #iroh #azula #suki #appa #momo #the last airbender #writing #fanfiction

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

I am here to ask you something special

Summary:

Sam wants to do things the right way. He visits an old friend to talk about his relationship with Bucky and ask for his blessing

5 times where Sam asks old Steve for his blessing and one time where he realizes he never needed it.

Notes:

Many people talk about Steve as if he were dead, but I imagine him living a peaceful life in a cottage with his sweetheart. Sam and Bucky still in contact with him, one way or another.

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32006143

2265 words - Rating G

Sam hesitated a bit before reaching for the small gate that led to the entrance of a small cottage surrounded by trees.

When he decided to open it, a voice said, "I thought you wouldn't come in."

Sam looked up and his gaze went to the source of the voice.

He moved forward a little, and hidden behind a flowering bush, he saw Steve, a book in his hand, sitting in a rocking chair.

"Sam, it's so good to see you! " he said with a smile that not even the years had been able to change.

He got up quietly and came over to meet Sam.

"Steve, you look great."

"No need to spare me, you can add I look great for my age. Come on in. So what brings you here my friend? We... uh I don't get many visitors, so I'm a little surprised."

Sam, who had noticed the slip of the tongue, didn't insist and followed him into a small, pleasantly arranged living room. They took seats in two armchairs.

"So Sam? How are you? How is it carrying the shield?"

"I'm fine, and as you know yourself, not always easy. But I think I'm doing okay."

Steve smiled softly and said, "You are, and I never doubted it, though I hear you don't care what Steve Rogers wants." he winked.

"I see Bucky couldn't help but open his mouth."

Steve chuckled, "He even made a point of saying it to my face, full of arrogance with his stubborn tone, 'You know what Steve, Sam's right, we don't care what you want.' and you were right. I'm glad you found your way, although as Bucky explained to me, we had no right to ask you to do something like that without knowing the consequences. I owe you an apology too Sam."

Sam, touched, didn't immediately know what to say. It moved him more than he thought to hear Steve's apology and the fact that apparently Bucky had defended him so passionately. It further confirmed why he had come to see his old friend today.

"So Sam, you still haven't told me, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Sam fidgeted a little, he had thought it would be a formality, but now that he was here he realized it was harder than he had anticipated.

"Um...so here goes...you know Bucky and I are together...-" he began in a hesitant tone.

He was interrupted by a burst of laughter from Steve.

"I think I was the first to know. It was super early in the morning and I remember us...I was having breakfast when I got this facetime call from Bucky, talking all excited about a cookout, about 'Uncle Bucky' and in the midst of all this information, I managed to figure out that you two were a couple."

Steve looked at him with a fond smile.

Sam remembered what Steve was talking about like it was yesterday.

They had held a cookout on the harbor, and Bucky had come with a cake. Sam remembered how his nephews, family and friends welcomed him as if he were family. The way Bucky's face lit up when he saw Sam.

He especially remembered the end of the day, they were side by side in front of the lake and Sam had turned to Bucky and just said, "let's go home."

He had seen several emotions run over Bucky's face, shock, surprise, realization and finally a nameless joy.

He had whispered in a voice clouded with emotion, "Yes, let's go home."

And they had gone home, Sam's arm around Bucky's shoulders.

There had been no passionate kiss, no grand declarations in that moment, but like Bucky, Sam considered that from that day forward they were together.

"Sam?"

Steve's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yes, excuse me."

"No worries Sam, believe me I understand you."

Sam coughed, then resumed, "Yeah, so I was saying, Bucky and I are together and things are going pretty well and-"

"According to Bucky, things are going more than pretty well." replied Steve with a cheeky smile. "He told me about the two of you taking a house together. If that's the case, then things are going better than well between you, right?" Steve asked him playfully.

It was true that, contrary to what the beginning of their relationship suggested, everything went smoothly.After fighting with each other and Sam choosing to become Captain America, they realized that the most important thing for them was to talk and listen to each other, and this allowed them to deflect most of the conflicts that would arise. Sam had learned to lean on Bucky and Bucky had learned to listen to Sam, and the balance between them was natural.

So living together had been a very obvious step.

He still remembered Bucky's joy when he had taken him in front of their new house, surprising him. But what had moved both men the most was the sign nailed to the door, obviously made by children's hands. It read: " Sam, Bucky and Alpine's house. "

The cohabitation was really going smoothly, it was easy to live with Bucky. They had adapted well to each other.

Sam smiled fondly, thinking back on all the little things that made up their daily routine.

Bucky was caring and Sam hadn't expected that. Bucky recorded every detail about him, all his quirks, his likes, everything-

"Sam? I lost you again."

You're going to think I'm an idiot by now," Sam replied with an embarrassed chuckle as he scratched the back of his head.

"I actually find it kind of refreshing, it's been so long for me, but I remember the thrill of the early months." said Steve with an understanding look.

"With her?" asked Sam, pointing to the wedding ring with his chin.

"Sort of." replied Steve with a mysterious smile.

"Always so evasive my friend." teased Sam.

"And so?" asked Steve.

"I see..." Sam didn't insist, "So I was saying, we're together and it's going very well. Bucky's even adjusted very well to Delacroix."

"Yes it seems to me he told me about working on a boat with your sister I believe?" asked Steve, looking interested.

"When he first came to Delacroix, he had brought me my new armor, and he stayed to help me repair the boat of our family business that Sarah, my sister, runs. And when he moved here permanently, he offered to help on his own. He fit in perfectly and the people of Delacroix respect him."

Sam thought of Carlos, who kept singing Bucky's praises. Bucky had taken a liking to the old man and often Sam would find them sharing a beer on the boat deck when he returned from a mission.

"You know Sam, it doesn't surprise me, Buck has always been a friendly and helpful guy. I'm glad to know that he's been able to get back to some semblance of a normal life despite the years Hydra took from him.I'm glad to know that he knows something other than fighting."

Sam saw emotion pass over Steve's face.

Of course he had seen that Bucky was fully acclimated to life in Delacroix and he was not unhappy about that. He knew that if he needed him, the White Wolf would be there in a heartbeat and ready to help, but he was glad to know that he had a life outside the battlefield.

"Yeah, sometimes I feel like he's lived in Delacroix longer than I have, and I was born there so that's saying something. So, yes, we live happily together in Delacroix, and he's kind of part of the family."

Steve chuckled, "Haha yes, Uncle Bucky. I really wish I could have seen his face when he was called that."

"You would have seen mine," Sam retorted, "I was the most surprised."

"Pleasantly surprised I hope." asked Steve, with a slight frown, gauging Sam.

"Yes yes, don't get on your high horse, Steve the mother hen. My nephews don't have much of a male presence in their lives except for me, that's why they adopted Bucky immediately, and needless to say, the reverse is true. Besides, he's become a legend among the younger generation, you understand, the bionic arm and all, even my wings can't compete."

Steve laughs as he imagines Bucky surrounded by kids.

"Wait, let me show you!"

Sam picked up his phone and after a few seconds, he showed Steve the screen.

The older man couldn't hold back a small tear at the picture of Bucky lifting children with his arm, while others laughed around him. But what touched him the most was Bucky's own laughter.

As Sam put his cell phone back in his pocket, Steve wiped away his tears as he apologized, "Well, that's just the way it is, as we get older we get more emotional, and to see my best friend this happy, makes me incredibly pleased, thank you for showing me this Sam."

"You're welcome."

Sam cleared his throat before continuing, "So here's the thing Steve, I came today, because Bucky is an extremely important person, hell he's the most important person in my life. I never thought I would find someone who knows me and understands me so well and who I don't have to be strong with all the time.I told you he's part of my family, but I would like him to be part of it in a more official way, and since you're all the family he has left as I know he thinks of you as his brother, although sometimes you act more like his mother, so I-"

Steve, laughing at Sam's last sentence, interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

Once he calmed down, he began to speak, "Sam, I think I understand what you came for. And I want you to know that nothing makes me happier than to give you my blessing, but you didn't have to ask for it. From the first day Bucky told me about you two, you have had this blessing. You are an exceptional person, and I am extremely happy that my two best friends have found each other. Having found happiness with the person I love, I know how precious that is. Not everyone gets a second chance like we did... like I did. So be happy, both of you. You both deserve it."

He clasped Sam's hand and put his other hand over their joined hands, just like the day he had passed the shield to him.

Once again Sam's gaze was drawn to the ring on Steve's finger.

"You still don't want to tell me about her?" asked Sam.

Letting go of Sam's hand, Steve said simply, "No..." Steve paused for a moment before continuing, "This story belongs to him and me."

Sam abruptly raised his head, but seeing that Steve had resumed his mysterious air, he simply nodded.

"I understand. I'm glad you found happiness then."

He stood up and headed for the door, "Don't walk me out I know the way. Just wish me luck."

"You don't need luck. I'm sure he'll say yes." replied Steve with a wink.

"Goodbye Steve."

Then he closed the door behind him.

As he was about to open the gate, his phone vibrated.

He picked it up, there was a message, "On your left."

He looked over his left shoulder, and saw Steve in the darkness of the window, but he wasn't alone and had his arm around the shoulders of a familiar figure. Sam tried to make out the features of the smaller man, but couldn't. He simply smiled and went on his way.

**********

A few days later, at Delacroix, lying with his head in Bucky's lap, Sam watched him squirm to try to take a picture of his right hand with his phone.

He straightened up and asked, "What are you trying to do?"

"I want to send a picture to Steve, of this," Bucky said, waving the hand that had been sporting the engagement ring in front of Sam's nose.

Sam smiled with fondness, picked up the phone and took Bucky's hand. He captured a photo of their joined hands, the engagement ring in full view.

Then kissing Bucky's hand, he handed the phone back to him.

Bucky typed a few words and sent the message.

Several hundred miles from Delacroix, in a small cottage, reading, Steve picked up his phone, which had just vibrated.

On the screen were the words, "Buddy, you'll never guess who is going to tie himself down."

Followed by a photo of a hand adorned with what could only be an engagement ring, joined to another hand, undoubtedly Sam's.

"So that's it, Sam proposed?" said a voice behind Steve.

"And Bucky said yes." replied Steve as arms wrapped around him from behind and a kiss was placed on his head.

He set the phone down beside him and turned to put his hands around the waist of the man behind him.

He sighed softly in happiness as he said, "I hope they are as happy as we are Tony."

"I'm sure they will be, my love." the man whispered as he kissed his head again. Then he let go of him and came to sit next to Steve.

Tony leaned against Steve who put his arm around him.

Then Steve picked up his book and continued to read aloud, "Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away."

__________

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

Quote at the end : Wind, Sand and Stars - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #tfatws #the avengers #marriage proposal #sort of #fluff #sambucky fic #stony fic

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iron--spider · 4 years

Text

I woke up at 3am yesterday to watch The Devil All the Time and I’ve been thinking about it since. I’m gonna put my thoughts and feelings and a review of sorts behind the cut, because I am gonna talk about it freely, so there will be spoilers! So don’t click if you don’t wanna see. I’ll also be discussing the content of the film and I know that might bother people, so that stuff is in here, too! And it’ll be really long because you know I can’t shut up.

So, I loved it. I loved it loved it loved it. I read the book a long time ago when I first found out Tom was gonna be in it, and the only problem I had with the book was that the POVs would change in the middle of a paragraph lmao, but other than that I thought it was pretty perfect. I knew the movie was gonna be pretty brutal, because the book is brutal, so I was prepared.

-BUT I think the critics HIGHLY HIGHLY exaggerated how bad the content was. Like, seriously, they acted as if this was gonna be a Saw movie. I was preparing for blatant, horrific gore, but it didn’t live up to their dramatics at all. There’s blood and nasty situations, but every single episode of Game of Thrones is worse than this movie, as are most episodes of any crime drama on a paid network. I actually thought they were super, super tactful of all their horrific shit. The dog death was off screen and the shot of the body (described by the critics as literally traumatic) was so quick (enough to shut your eyes) and in the dark. I also argue that particular moment is extremely important for Arvin’s journey, because it’s the moment he truly turns on his father and turns on religion entirely, and he carries it with him his whole life (it’s what he flashes back to when he says “I know what my daddy did” because it’s the marker of all Willard’s mistakes) and it winds up being one of the last things he does before he leaves everything behind. Burying Jack’s bones. So, like, I despise dog death or any animal death in my entertainment, but it’s important here and handled well. And all the worst death scenes are either extremely fast (Helen’s and Gary Matthew’s) or shown in negative (all the photos). I think Bodecker’s headshot with Bobo is probably the worst and is also pretty quick. I don’t know if this means I’m a jaded bitch, but God the way they were all whining and crying, I thought it’d be a million times worse. It could have been, with the book’s descriptions, so it was actually pretty tame. Lenora’s death affected me the most and they cut away from that, too. I guess it’ll still bother some people, but there are many, many mainstream things that are far more violent and gory than this was.

-I thought it was a beautiful movie. I never mind films that are slightly slower but I love ones that use their time to lay things out and really show us what’s going on, build the ambiance and the relationships. I loved the narration (which I was worried about), and it really made me feel like we were visiting a moment in time that was important. Like something that was written and should be learned about. Rumors in a town you’re passing through. The ghosts of past trauma and transgressions looming over everyone that’s left.

-I liked the changes they made with Roy and Theodore because I thought that storyline kinda meandered in the book and I’m glad that Roy was actually gone the whole time and not just neglecting to come back to Lenora.

-The only real complaints I can make, I’ll get out of the way here: I wanted a little bit more time with Carl and Sandy. Carl was really creepy, but he could have been much creepier. In the book he was the one looking at the pictures constantly, Not Sandy, and that really showed that he was the one with the sickness, the one pushing them forward and orchestrating it all. I thought they did well with showing how Sandy deteriorated in her efforts with him through the years, but I would have liked to see a bit more of their personal lives together and her fear of him and her genuine feelings about what they’re doing, because the book goes into that a lot more. I also wasn’t a fan of Lee finding the picture early and knowing some about what they were doing, because I liked how it was a surprise to him in the book and yet he still did all he could to cover it up. And lastly, in the book there’s a scene with Arvin after he kills Sandy and Carl where he’s in a motel and he takes like 18 showers because he can’t get the grime of what he’s done off of him, and he looks at the picture and has a nightmare about killing Sandy, and I really would have loved if they’d kept it in. It would have been another ‘acting’ moment for Tom, and it would have been nice for us to see his direct trauma and reaction to everything that’s piling on top of him.

-BUT that’s it. I loved pretty much every single other thing and decision that they made. The cinematography was TOP NOTCH. You could tell they filmed on 35mm film, you could see the grain, and it really, really added to it. Antonio Campos is a very skilled director and I trusted him at the helm of this story. Everything looked so authentic, all the sets and the costumes. The soundtrack and score were AMAZING and enhanced the film. Technically it was just perfect in every regard to me.

-Acting! Acting! God this was like...a massive testament to the casting department and the talent of these people. Everyone was on their A game. Bill Skarsgård has been on my radar since Castle Rock (which I recommend to everybody, both seasons) and he was so natural and great in this role. Haley Bennet was absolutely adorable as Charlotte, I loved her cute face and her sweet relationship with little Arvin. Riley Keough was so great as Sandy with the limited amount of time she had, and Jason Clarke is one of my favorites but he was unrecognizable in this as creepy ass Carl. Harry Melling was a far cry from Dudley Dursley and he did a great job with his screen time, too. Same with Mia Wasikowska, who didn’t have much to do (same as poor Helen in the book) but she was able to garner our sympathy anyway. Seb Stan was slimy and gross but he pulled it off so well. Eliza Scanlen has been one of my favorites since Sharp Objects (another one that’s brutal as hell but I recommend it, she’s so scary) and she was so, so great here. Robert Pattinson was ALRIGHT, everybody talks him up over this but he felt a little hammy to me and a little too over the top, but there’s no denying his talent.

-Now, the reason we’re all here. Tom. My God. As soon as it was over I just didn’t know what the hell to do, I didn’t even know how to....go on, lmfao. We all know he’s talented, that’s why we’re here, that’s why we love him, but his performance in this is just BEYOND all that. Beyond comprehension. The man is only 24 years old and he’s out here outacting people who have been in the industry for longer than he’s been alive. He is SHOCKINGLY good. I knew he’d be perfect for Arvin as soon as I read the book, but he just completely embodied this role in a way that I couldn’t have imagined. He doesn’t show up in the movie until about 45 minutes in (which doesn’t hurt it because of the strength of the leadup, Bill’s performance and the performance of little Arvin’s actor) but God, as soon as he’s there the whole thing comes to life in a way that it hadn’t before. Tom is literally just a shining light, and he draws your eye in every single scene he’s in, and when he’s not there you’re wondering when he’s gonna come back. Arvin, to me, is a very complex character—he has been inherently changed by how his father twisted religion in his childhood, how deeply he betrayed him by his behavior, but he still has a kind heart and a protective streak and the need to be strong despite the pain nearly breaking him apart from moment to moment. Tom is just outrageously good at portraying all Arvin’s little nuances, how he clenches his jaw, how his voice breaks when he’s afraid or trying to convince someone of something or get his point across, how his hands tremble after he’s done something he wishes he didn’t have to do, how his whole body wilts when he realizes he’s emulating his father. And his eyes. Tom can do so, so much with his eyes that it’s unbelievable. He tells you so much with just a simple look, a glance, a wince, a long blink. I’m not exaggerating when I say he’s just an absolute revelation in this, he cements his place in Hollywood with a firm hand and a tender look, and I will not be forgetting what he did here anytime soon. There’s a reason that everyone called him out for being so stunning in this. He is magnificent. He has a gift.

-I wanna say, in particular, how much I love Arvin’s relationship with Lenora. Their lives were both marked by such tragedy and pain and Arvin just took up the torch of protecting her from the moment he said hello as a child. He wants so badly to be tough, and he IS, but there’s just miles and miles of love in this boy’s heart, and it manifests itself for his family—for his uncle, for his grandma, but for Lenora in particular. I loved how he just showed up when she was being harassed and just ran in there without thinking, and it’s purely devastating that he was out taking care of her bullies while a worse predator was cornering her. The scene where she was sick wasn’t in the book but it was a beautiful addition. Tom sometimes wears this very open, unguarded, honest expression, and this is the only scene in which he shows it, and it really expresses the love between them and how much she means to him. Arvin didn’t find Lenora’s body in the book, but it was the right change for them to make. Tom was devastating here, and that pain and that moment truly fuel every second of his journey through the rest of the film. “My Lenora”. The saddest siblings. Both Eliza and Tom did so beautifully with this relationship and I hope they work together again.

-Favorite acting moments for Tom: when he’s in the car in the rain after beating up the bullies, when he’s in the church crowd and realizes Preston is insulting his Grandma (the way his face changes oh my GOD), when he finds Lenora, when the cop comes to tell him Lenora was pregnant (this is just....so damn good), when he was telling his uncle to look after his Grandma, THE ENTIRE CHURCH CONFRONTATION (the way he trembles when he’s trying to get his attention, how he speaks the whole time, how he slowly gathers his strength), when he thinks Sandy has shot him, the moment where he’s over Lee’s body and just....pleading with his eyes for him to listen and realize what he’s done. And the last scene, in the car, all the emphasis on his face....once again, he can do so, so much with a look, with his eyes. Someone called out the beautiful last shot in the film, and of course, it’s Arvin’s sleeping face. And it was so beautiful (and devastating, to think of him enlisting. Tom draws so much sympathy that you just want Arvin to have a normal life so badly. He deserves it, he does, but will he get it?)

-Last thing I’ll say, I really loved how, despite turning his back on religion, that God seems to be protecting Arvin the whole time. He’s terribly afraid confronting the preacher and that could have easily gone badly, especially when he tosses the book, but Arvin was somehow able to get a shot off and get the upper hand. And with Carl and Sandy, he senses something is off immediately once they pull off the road, and he would have absolutely been killed had Carl not switched out Sandy’s bullets for blanks. And in the confrontation with Lee, he once again shoots at the same time as him, shoots without looking, and manages to come out unscathed and on top. A few spoiler reviews pointed out that the last person that picks Arvin up is supposed to be a Jesus-like figure, almost like he’s finally been saved. It hurts that everyone around him that he loved is almost forsaken by God, but he himself is protected. It’s such a complicated commentary on religion throughout the entire piece, but it’s so interesting and engrossing.

So I’d recommend this movie to anyone that loves movies, loves Tom, can deal with a gritty story that takes its time laying out all the chess pieces. It is definitely heavy subject matter but it doesn’t go overboard with the horror as it easily could have. Yes, there are triggers to look for, but the critics hugely over exaggerated how awful it was. I can probably go get time stamps for certain things if people wanna ask me after reading this, but if you can get through a Tarantino film or any HBO drama, you can do this. And Tom’s performance is one for the ages and not one that deserves to be passed over or downplayed. It is beautiful and heart-wrenching—a magnificent turn that displays his monumental ability to reach out and guide you into any world he decides to make his own.

I loved The Devil All the Time.

#tom holland #arvin russell #the devil all the time #text post #LONG #I’M SORRY

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

OK I GOT 5 HOURS OF SLEEP LAST NIGHT WHICH IS PRETTY OK IG (I did stay up to read the fic-) BOTH MY TESTS WENT LIKE SHIT, I HAD AN ANXIETY ATTACK IN PROGRAMMING CLASS BECAUSE BY TEACHER IS A LITTLE SHIT WHO KEPT ON YELLING AT ME WHEN I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND SOMETHING AND I SPENT LUNCH ALONE BUT AT LEAST NOW IM ALONE WITH MY LAPTOP SO YAYAYAYYA

first of all, this chapter right here is my comfort chapter from now on. i said what i said. I will be rereading it again and again just because i can. it was PERFECTION

here's me going crazy at 2 am yesterday.

MAGNUS' CHAPTER

LET'S GO LET'S GO LET'S GO

AHHHHHHH IT'S THEIR ANNIVERSARY

SCREAM

alec shaved his beard because it made him look older

RAFAEL WAS SO UPSET AFTER THE MEXICO ATTACK BECAUSE OF ANJALI RIGHT??

magnus and alec are the oblivious parents istg

“Are you decent?” Max yelled. “I don’t want to be traumatized again.”

“Hey! We agreed not to talk about that!” Alec yelled back.

Im not even surprised at this point

“Happy anniversary, bapa!” Rafael kissed him on the cheek and handed him the flowers.

“Where are my flowers?” Alec asked.

Rafael plucked a rose from the bouquet and threw it at Alec. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, son,” Alec mumbled.

IM WHEEZING

DAVID BAKES

“David made it,” Max said shyly. "

Oh,” Alec replied and then shrugged. “Well, the icing could be a little sweeter I think.”

Ever since Max started dating, Alec had become incredibly protective. Alec liked David of course – it was impossible to find someone who didn’t. But that didn’t mean Alec approved.

And it didn’t help that the blond boy was absolutely terrified of Alec.

ALEC STOP TEASING HIM

THE BOY IS ALREADY SCARED

“I don’t know,” Alec analysed the card. “David used too much glitter.”

“Since when do you have a problem with excessive glitter?” Max demanded.

ALEC

“I didn’t use him!” Max huffed. “He was thoroughly compensated for his efforts!”

“Compensated how?” Alec asked.

“Uh,” Max said. “With donuts.”

when i saw donuts i immediately thought of rose and luisa from jtv

iykyk

but should i continue the show? i got tired of jane continuously embarrasing herself

“You expect us to follow rules?” Alec asked in surprise. “In our own home? On our anniversary?”

The warlock boy grinned wickedly before leaning close to Alec.

“You better do it, or I will tell everyone about your secret,” Max whispered.

Alec blinked at that.

the secret...

I DONT LIKE HOW MANY THINGS POPPED INTO MY HEAD

is highschool musical that bad? i havent watched it. should i?

what if i cried

i just wanna hug alec??? but i cant say it'll be ok because it wont

“Is that why you are not attending?” Magnus grinned at his friend. “Or is it because you are terrified of Georgia?”

“That child is the reincarnation of Christopher Lightwood!” Ragnor complained. “I heard she made explosives out of demon ichor! Who makes explosions out of demon ichor?”

RAGNOR IS PROBABLY GETTING FLASHBACKS

THESE STUPID FUCKING BITCHES

how tf do you think we have survived huh??

medicine that's how

vaccines, anti biotics and what not

stop being close-minded and fucking do it

ok i know the risk is great

BUT OTHERWISE THEY ALL DIE

it was different for warlocks. The Shadow World was their universe. The nephilim kept it safe. At one point in their lives, they had learned to coexist with them, out of necessity and out of obligation.

And now here they were – working together in the name of friendship and love.

how things change...

what

say what

the causes are what

ok let's not jump to conclusions

im fucking crying wtf

alec doesnt deserve this shit

all he's done is make the world a better place

hes worked so hard on this

RAZIEL CAN GO FUCK HIMSELF

what am i supposed to say to my parents if one of them comes to check on me and im sitting here crying at 2 am

He didn’t want to believe in a reality that would punish Alec. Alec who only wanted to do what is good and right.

Alec was who was losing his hope and strength every passing day. Alec who was struggling. Alec who was turning to desperate measures to cope with all the stress.

please alec

no please

THE ANGELS ARE BITCHES

Because if Magnus found out Raziel was the one causing all this pain for Alec, he would march up to heaven and set the bastard on fire himself.

AND I'LL GO WITH HIM

KNEW THE SPY WAS LIVVY

AWW RAGNOR LIKES SELENA THATS SO SWEET

blue and gold

STOP IT IM CRYING AGAIN

The shadowhunter was a good influence on him. Magnus hoped Alec would see it sooner rather than later.

HUH

HUHU

HUH

omg

GIGI GETTING A SIBLING

“Max isn’t allowed to do a lot of things,” Magnus chuckled. “But he does them anyway.”

thats my boi

GASP

]THE NECKLACE

rafael is growing into the consul voice

they grow up so fast

nope nope he's still the little 5 year old

voice cracking what do you mean he's 20

im glad hes happy with mila. or is he...?

Magnus had deduced as much. Alec lived in his beautifully oblivious world. But Magnus noticed.

He noticed the hickeys. He noticed the late-night visits. He noticed the tense phone calls.

well thank god there's at least one non-oblivious person (alec i love you so much but you are very very oblivious)

“What’s stopping you then?” Magnus asked.

"2554 miles,” Rafael chuckled sadly.

me with all my online friends

probably more miles

Magnus tried to do the math but promptly gave up.

But Alec did lie though. Magnus pushed the thought away.

NOT NOW

LET ME LIVE IN PEACEFUL OBLIVION

HUSH

“Except melt it?” Rafael chuckled.

“Yes,” Magnus chuckled back. “As you can see, the bar is extremely low in the Lightwood family.”

AHHIUCCDSKUHDCV

i have no clue what the words describing the outfit are

time to google

OK PRETTY

Fifteen years. Fifteen years of loving and Alec still made his heart stutter.

dont do this to me right now I WILL CRY

“What the hell?” Max exclaimed. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s my anniversary,” Alec chuckled.

Max-

Fifteen years. Fifteen years and Magnus still took Alec’s breath away.

HJCSDHJBJDHSGCDYGJVVC JHVDFYMJ

it's not funny MY EYES ARE WATERING

“Bapak is a good looking one in the family,” Rafael pointed out. “You are the chaotic one and I am the smart one.”

“What am I then?” Alec asked dryly. “A sack of potatoes?”

“You’re the sexy one,” Magnus grinned. “A sexy sack of potatoes.”

yes.

Alec grinned back and leaned forward. Magnus put his hands around Alec’s neck and kissed him. He kissed Alec with all the love he had inside his heart.

Just like the first time. Just like the hundredth time. Just like the thousandth time.

Because with Alec, every kiss mattered. Every single one.

muffled sob

“Stop making out, oh my god!” Max groaned.

Magnus sensed a pillow coming their way but Rafael caught it before it hit them.

“Max, stop!” Rafael scolded. “You will wrinkle dad’s suit and ruin bapak’s hair! I spent hours ironing both!”

why is max me when i see people display affection in front of me

ALSO RAFAEL HKUIUIDCSKIHUDFVHJDFVHU

“They are here,” Rafael said. “You two better look exactly the way you did when I left with Max or I will raise hell.”

IM SCREAMING

Selena was wearing a blue crop top with the words “MIND YOUR OWN UTEREUS” written in gold.

i need that top

DAVID'S SHIRT IS THE COLOR OF MAX'S MAGIC

AHH ISABELLE DOESNT KNOW SHE'S PREGNANT YET

The argument of “who gave the best gift” had started when Jace and Izzy had gotten drunk on vodka. It didn’t help that Alec had gotten drunk as well. All three Lightwood siblings had then proceeded to have an argument about who had the best spouse. The whole night had been drunken chaos. Magnus, Clary and Simon had let them have it since the Lightwood siblings had a tendency to carry the world on their shoulders even when nobody asked them. They rarely ever let loose ever since their worlds had plunged into sickness and demon attacks. Especially Alec. So, Magnus had let his husband be that 18-year-old boy again. The boy who got drunk and fought with his siblings and sang songs about Magnus’ pretty eyes.

OH MY GOD THE CHAOS

Georgia considered that. “I’m not allowed to melt it, right?”

“No,” they all replied in chorus.

LET GIGI MELT IT

SELENA IM SO PROUD OF YOU

“Dad,” Max said. “Can you keep a picture of me wearing this necklace in your office?”

“Why?” Rafael asked.

“I think it will piss off the boomers,” Max giggled.

“Nice!” Lexi grinned. “A downworlder wearing a shadowhunter heirloom? They will lose their heads. Uncle Alec, you must do it.”

“I will do you one better. I will hang a tapestry,” Alec chuckled.

YASSS I CANT WAIT FOR THE SHADOWHUNTERS TO BE PISSED

AWW THEY DIDNT KNOW THE NECKLACE USED TO BELONG TO MAGNUS

he actually gave to camille first-

Why couldn’t this boy just cause chaos during his travel year like the rest of them? Why did he actually study and do his research as recommended?

why would you NOT study and research during your travel year????

oh shit

well well well

david bby stfu

i love you but pls stop speaking for all our sakes

“Holy shit,” Max said. “It is expensive then!”

“Don’t pawn the ruby!” Rafael warned.

MAX NO-

OH THE STONE COMES FROM EDOM

oh no

pls dont fight

oh so i was wrong about magus confronting him from that snippet

all you need to know is im sobbing right now and grammarly is the only thing making this coherent

dont mind me just

NO I FORGOT ABOUT MAX AND DAVID

GET BACK IN THE ROOM YOU IDIOTS

don't do this to me at 3 am

OK THE DILF PART

thank you for adding light into my life again

(me while editing this: today really isn't my day huh? i just slipped in rainwater outside my balcony because I heard rain and ran there. now my knee and back hurt and I think I sprained (?) my toe-

ANYWAY

wait im gonna go check out the rain and then continue editing this

ok i got bored of the rain)

that made me laugh through my tears

“Objectively good looking?” Jace snorted. “Excuse you, but my parabatai is smoking hot! He is a freaking prize, okay? If we had a magazine for hot shadowhunters, you would be on the cover page. Every single issue.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Alec interrupted. “Magnus, are you happy? Now all my friends have told me I am pretty.”

“I said smoking hot,” Jace corrected.

“We are not being biased,” Clary pointed out. “It is the general consensus, Alec.”

“It’s true,” Lexi said. “So many people have asked me for your number, Uncle Alec. And I would have given it to them if I wasn’t worried about being turned into a marshmallow.”

LEXI DUHDUGHUDFCUHKVDFUIKFDU

“Dad, I don’t know why you are so worried,” Max said in a bored tone. “You’re a told DILF.”

David choked on his champagne and Jace patted him on the back.

“What the hell is a DILF?” Alec demanded.

“Oh, I know this one!” Jace said excitedly. “It means Dashing and Irresistible Looking Father. Max is right, you are a total DILF.”

“Mr. Herondale-” David raised a hand.

“I heard one of the shadowhunters in their travel year calling me a DILF too,” Jace said proudly.

THAT IS NOT WHAT DILF MEANS OH MY GOD

“It’s not a rumour,” Selena spoke up and passed her phone. “There is a group chat at Scholomance just to thirst after you.”

add me to it

ALL THE COMMENTS I CANT BREATHE

“Alec Lightwood can run me over with a Maserati and I would thank him.”

“Give me that,” Izzy grabbed the phone and started giggling. “Petition for Consul Alec Lightwood-Bane to stab me with his mortal sword.”

“Isabelle!” Alec hissed, cheeks flaming. “Stop it!”

“I want one!” Jace grabbed the phone now. “By the Angel!”

“Read it!” the kids yelled in chorus.

“I would gladly let Consul Lightwood-Bane inspect my mortal instruments,” Jace chuckled and threw the phone at David.

David shook his head vehemently and threw it at Max.

“My body is just a hole for Alec Lightwood,” Max read out loud and started laughing so hard that he fell off his chair.

Lexi grabbed the phone and giggled. “I want the Consul to strip off my runes among other things.”

She passed the phone to Gigi, who looked at the phone and look at Alec.

“Uncle Alec,” the girl said. “This person wants you to crush them with your massive archer arms.”

“Give me that,” Rafael grabbed it now. “Aw, this one is a classic, dad. Alec Lightwood turned me gay.”

He threw the phone at Simon, who stared the screen and looked up. “Uh, I don’t think I can read this one out loud in front of the kids.

“Is this the one about the basement?” Selena chuckled and Simon nodded.

WHAT'S THE BASEMENT ONe

TELL ME

AWW GIGI AND LEXI PUTTING MAKEUP ON DAVID AND MAX RECORDING IT

google translator time

oooo Rafael's gonna talk with Mila

Magnus you're such a good father

seriously

“Sometimes things are just sad. So, you need to let yourself be sad.”

YES

SAY IT LOUDER

THEY ARE UNDER THE BED

AHHH MAX AND DAVID

DAVID CALLED HIM MY ANGEL IN FRENCH

Alec and Magnus hiding under the bed and spying on them is just-

Jace had tried to give Max the shovel talk and had gotten a little too emotional.

of course, he did smh I love him so much

“David doesn’t need a shovel talk,” Alec smiled. “He knows what would happen to him if he hurts my son.”

David gulped. “You will throw me into the silent city?”

“I will ask me husband to portal you to hell,” Alec said – Consul Voice. “We have relatives there.”

the beloved relatives yes

“Goodnight,” Jace gave them a salute. “Have fun inspecting Magnus’ mortal instruments.”

JACE

OH SO THE QUESTION WAS ABOUT SMOKING

damn it

oh my god guys he said he'll stop smoking

just lemme have this moment

my boy's lungs will be intact

HIS LUNGS WILL BE OK

“I can’t wait to see all the messages on the chat after that,” Magnus giggled.

Alec looked up. “I’m more than a tall glass of water, Magnus!”

SCREAMING

In his dream, he saw them again. But they weren’t smiling this time.

what

wait

THE PROPHETIC DREAMS

nope nope nope

Nah I don't know what you're talking about

haha

damn, I think I really hurt my back...

OK BUT THE IMMORTALITY ANGST???? WAS SO SO GOOD???? I know it makes me cry but is it bad that I'm always so excited for angst written by you because of HOW GOOD it is????

"When I die I will love you from my grave" I NEED THIS ON MY FOREHEAD OH MY GOD I LOVE THESE TWO SO SO MUCH

alright I need to get something for my back and my knee (I'm home alone so this will be fun)

OK, I THINK THE NEXT CHP WILL BE ANJALI'S POV I JUST FEEL IT!!! I miss my girl so much I hope she's doing ok. Jaime too...

I'm rereading all of these chapters after chapter 10 because why not. Bye!!

OKAY I AM GLAD YOU LIKED IT BUT I AM ALSO DEEPLY WORRIED ABOUT YOUR HEALTH.

I hope your knee and back feels better soon!

also fuck that teacher yelling something doesn't make people understand it any better ugh dumb piece of shit anyway screw that person.

I hope you get some good rest and recovery from this rollercoaster of a day.

Take care!

#lbaf

13 notes · View notes

specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

sweater weather

summary: The weekend before Halloween finds the BAU at a local farm, and there’s a bet on who’s going to solve the corn maze first.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: none

a/n: happy halloween! this is just something nice and fluffy for the fall season. i ended up researching corn mazes in virginia for this. (liberty mills is an actual farm in the area)

word count: 2.1k

song: sweater weather by the neighbourhood

masterlist

There’s three things every agent who starts working at the FBI’s Quantico office quickly learns about the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

First, the unit has the best case solve rate in the Bureau. Second, yes, they really do have their own jet. And third, everyone in it has a mean competitive streak. There’s no such thing as a casual bet with any of them.

You’re no exception. You don’t make it onto one of the FBI’s most elite units by keeping your head down.

And it’s that competitive nature you all possess that finds you wandering through a corn maze on a chilly October afternoon with Spencer at your side.

It’s safe to say it gets away from you sometimes.

---

It started off innocently enough. Ten minutes before the end of work on Friday, JJ approaches Spencer with a question.

“Are you and (Y/N) busy this weekend?”

“Um, I didn’t have any plans,” he replies, then turns to you. “Honey?”

“Not unless sleep counts as a plan,” you say with a shrug. The team had returned from a case yesterday that had taken nearly a week to solve. You’d slept well cuddled up with Spencer last night, but still had plenty to make up for. “What’s up, JJ?”

“Well, it’s the last weekend before Halloween, and Henry’s been dying to go pick out a pumpkin,” she says. “So Will and I said we’d take him to Liberty Mills farm tomorrow to pick one out from their patch. But, he wanted me to ask Uncle Spencer if he’d come, too, to help him pick out one that’s perfect.”

Spencer’s face lights up immediately. “I’d love to.”

JJ smiles right back. “Great! He’ll be so happy.”

“You know, Liberty Mills farm has the largest corn maze in the United States this year,” he says. “On average, it takes thirty minutes to an hour for the first and second trails, and two to three hours for the third level.”

Morgan joins the conversation. “And let me guess, pretty boy: you think you can solve it faster than that.”

“I’m not sure, actually. I haven’t ever gone through a corn maze.”

You look at him incredulously. “Really? You, of all people, haven’t done a corn maze?”

Spencer frowns. “What do you mean?”

“You love this time of year. Corn mazes are just such a fall thing that it surprises me that you haven’t done one before,” you explain.

“I don’t love fall,” Spencer corrects. “I love Halloween.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Bold words from a man who’s ordered a pumpkin spice latte every morning for the last three weeks.”

You take a moment to enjoy the blush that paints his cheeks at your words, then speak to JJ. “What time are you guys leaving?”

“We’re aiming for around nine,” she says. “It takes about an hour to get there. We can give you a ride, of course, but I’m guessing the two of you don’t want to be crammed into the backseat of our car for that long.”

Truthfully, it wouldn’t bother you much. You know Spencer would take the middle seat so he could sit next to Henry, leaving you with the better one. But the man is made of legs, and he’d get uncomfortable quickly with them squeezed into a tight space. The last thing you want is for his knee injury to flare up and leave him in pain for the rest of the day.

“Yeah, we should drive up separately,” you say. “We can just meet there.”

“Now, hang on,” Morgan says. “Is this an open invitation for anyone? Because I’ve done corn mazes before and I don’t want to pass up the opportunity to beat Reid at something.”

“Oh, I’ll take up that bet,” Emily says. “Twenty bucks says Morgan and I get through it faster than Reid.”

Spencer frowns. “Two against one? That’s not fair.”

“Well, obviously, you’re going through it with me,” you point out, lightly swatting his arm with the back of your hand. “You’re on, Emily.”

Rossi, briefcase in one hand, jacket hooked over his shoulder, comes into the fray. “What are we betting on?”

“Whether Derek and Emily or Spence and (Y/N) can solve a corn maze faster,” JJ says. She does a good job of acting exasperated, but you know she’s just as invested as the rest of you. If it wasn’t for her desire to spend time with her son, she’d probably enter herself.

“Oh, I’ll put fifty down on the kid, easy,” Rossi says.

Hotch, descending the stairs into the bullpen, overhears this and sighs. “What have I said about office bets?”

“Technically it’s not an office bet,” Emily points out quickly. “It’s something we’re doing over the weekend on our own time.”

“Yeah, this isn’t pool,” Spencer agrees. “Twenty-five on (Y/N) and I.”

“What’s this over?” Hotch asks.

“Corn maze,” Morgan explains. “I’ll add twenty-five as well on me and Emily.”

You tear a piece of paper out of one of the notebooks on your desk and start writing. “I’m putting in thirty,” you say as you write it down. Spencer may have never been in a corn maze before, but you have, and you’re pretty great at them. “Everyone write down their bets on here.”

“What about you, Aaron?” Rossi asks as the paper makes it way through the group.

Hotch shakes his head. “I’m not getting into this.”

“You should still come,” JJ says, scribbling down her wager. “There’s a pumpkin patch you can take Jack to.”

“I did promise him we’d carve a pumpkin this weekend,” he muses.

Penelope toddles in on her high heels with her bag over her shoulder. “What’s going on?” She frowns. “Am I being left out of something?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby girl,” Derek says, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “We’re having a family outing to some farm tomorrow—”

“Liberty Mills farm,” Spencer interjects.

Morgan rolls his eyes. “We’re going to Liberty Mills farm tomorrow. You in?”

Penelope’s face breaks into her bright, radiant smile, warming up the room just like she always does. “Of course! JJ, please tell me my beautiful little godson is coming, too.”

“You can even help him pick out a pumpkin,” JJ replies and Penelope squeals.

“This is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait!”

---

A breeze ripples the cornstalks as you navigate the maze with your boyfriend. You’re on the fourth trail, the mystery maze portion. Derek had insisted on that after learning that Spencer saw a picture of the main maze over your shoulder while you were looking up the directions online. You’d agreed that it was only fair to do the mystery section; his eidetic memory would make it too easy to get through the main portion now.

You shiver at the cold and press yourself against Spencer’s side. It’s around four PM, but the temperature has already started to drop, and it’s especially chilly away from all the people and attractions, isolated in the maze.

Spencer lets go of your hand and you open your mouth to protest, but he speaks before you can. “Hang on, I have something for you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as he lifts the flap of his satchel and pulls out a blanket that really shouldn’t have been able to fit in there. He drapes it around your shoulders and punctuates the action with a kiss on your forehead.

“Have you been carrying this around all day?” you ask incredulously. It’s new; you haven’t seen it before. The fabric is incredibly soft and the design is made up of your favorite colors.

He nods. “You get cold faster than I do, and you get cranky when you’re cold.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” you muse, pulling the blanket around you tighter. “You’re so thin. I feel like you should get cold at least as fast as me.”

“Well, if we look at the laws of thermodynamics,” he begins and you tuck yourself into his side with a small smile. He rambles for a while and you listen patiently, nodding and giving him “uh-huh”’s every so often to affirm your interest (though honestly, a good portion of it goes over your head—most of your studies in college were focused on psychology and sociology).

“I see,” you murmur when he finishes, and it’s not a lie—you think you understand the basics. You briefly stop him from walking to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for the blanket. I love you.”

It’s hardly the first time you’ve said it, but he still blushes. “Love you, too.”

“Now,” you say, taking his hand back into your grip. “Let’s win this bet.”

Sixty minutes later, a smile tugs at your lips. Spencer’s corrected you on a few turns, being able to say for certain if you’ve taken a path before, and now you’re close to the end of the maze. You can feel it. You tug on his hand, picking up your pace. “Come on. We’re close.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” You let go of his hand and break into a jog, recalling the hot apple cider stand you saw earlier in the day. You can’t wait to wrap your hands around a cup of it.

“(Y/N)—” he starts, and you look back just in time to see him trip over a root and almost fall face first into the dirt, just barely catching himself on his hands.

You try not the laugh, but a small giggle slips out. “Sorry,” you say, fighting a smile.

He just rolls his eyes as he pushes himself up. “Can you slow down?” he asks. “The cold is making my knee hurt.”

Your expression immediately drops. “Yeah, of course.”

Five minutes later, you’re exiting the maze. Rossi’s waiting at the end and cheers when he sees the two of you. “Ah, yes! I knew it!”

“We’re first?” Spencer asks.

“Of course we are.” You remove one arm from your blanket cocoon and place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him towards you for a kiss. He hums happily against your lips.

He hugs you from behind as you wait for Derek and Emily, sliding his hands under the blanket and into your sweater’s pockets. They’re ten minutes behind you.

“Ah, come on, man,” Derek laments when he sees you.

“Dammit,” Emily sighs. “You two better be buying dinner tonight.”

“Oh, we’d love to,” you tease.

“How far ahead of us were you?” Morgan asks.

“Twenty minutes,” Spencer replies, and you don’t have to turn around to know the smirk he’s sporting.

You elbow him lightly. “Ten,” you correct.

The five of you meet back up with the others near the entrance of the farm. Penelope had held onto the small pumpkin you’d picked out earlier in the day and hands it to you now. You have paint back home that you’re planning to use to decorate it. Spencer had no desire to get one to carve; he can’t stand touching the pumpkin guts.

“So who won?” she asks.

“Well, going by Spence’s expression, I’m guessing he and (Y/N) did,” JJ says.

Henry lets go of his mother’s hand and approaches Spencer, lifting his arms in a request to be picked up. “We sure did,” Spencer says as he obliges. “Isn’t that right, Henry?”

You grin. “Dinner’s on us.”

---

The team’s seated at your usual table at one of the restaurants you all like to frequent. There’s smiles and laughter all around. Jack is telling his dad, Beth and Morgan about the design he wants to carve into the rather large pumpkin he picked out. Penelope, JJ, and Emily are chattering about Emily’s date tomorrow. (You’ve seen pictures of the woman and she’s gorgeous; Emily also seems completely enamored with her.) Rossi is following up with Will on a recipe he gave him to try. Henry has vacated his seat next to Spencer to sit on his lap instead, and both of you are helping him color in the picture on his placemat.

When JJ takes Henry to wash his hands, you take the opportunity to put your hand on Spencer’s knee. “How’s it feeling?” you ask.

“Better, now that it’s warm.” He pauses, then says, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Coming with me today. I had a lot of fun. I...” He fiddles with the corner of the placemat. “I never really got to do stuff like this when I was a kid. You know, because...”

You nod; you know what his upbringing was like. “Well, I’m happy to have been a part of it.”

Spencer leans into you, tucking one of his legs behind yours. You squeeze his knee lightly and he lets out a sigh of contentment. He stays like that until Henry returns. The food arrives shortly afterward. Before you take your first bite, you run your eyes across everyone at the table.

It’s a strange, mismatched family you and Spencer have, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

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

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #fluff #my fic #don't mind me just reposting bc tumblr blocked this from the tags for whatever reason

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gloryofluv · 3 years

Text

Traditionally Obscure Chapter 27

Bombs away!

Previous Chapter

How did it start? Well, the children of the estate were having a summer day of playing with water balloons, and Luke dragged her along. Soon Sasha and Elsa were in shorts and t-shirts, joining the fray. It was an all-out war, and Rosa was tucked behind a tree. Her shirt was dripping, and her hair was matted.

Vyn was resting in his room today, and Ester was watching from the patio. She commented on how youthful people needed to get rid of the summer heat somehow. Rosa was puffing and looked in the bag she was carrying her water balloons inside. She only had six left.

There was shouting of the children across the grass, and she watched as two of the children were chasing each other and throwing balloons. Sasha and Elsa came skipping out, tossing a few balloons at them. Rosa glanced over at the other tree to see Luke lurking. An impish smile grew on her face as she slunk down and waited.

Luke crawled out from his hiding place and began to aim toward the princesses. Rosa crouched and hurried closer to get him; however, it seemed again he knew where she was. He pivoted and rushed toward her scooping her off the ground.

“Luke, dammit!” Rosa screamed, and her water balloons broke in her bag, leaving her with the one in her hand.

He laughed and held her legs with her over one of his shoulders. “Free target!” He shouted.

“Luke!” Rosa snapped.

The children in the distance and princesses were laughing. Rosa could already estimate that her shorts were going to be soaked because of this. She struggled and flailed, allowing her to slid from his grip. He sidestepped quickly, and she missed him with her last water balloon.

The gasping around her wasn’t ideal as Rosa realized she hadn’t completely missed a target. Vyn was walking out toward them, and the water balloon hit him square on his chest. The white buttoned shirt stuck to his undershirt and collarbone. Rosa covered her mouth as her cheeks tinted.

“Dr. Richter! Oh, I’m so sorry!” She huffed and stepped toward him.

He glanced down and exhaled with a curl to his lips. “It’s fine, Rosa. I was just going to announce that Carl will be here within the hour.”

“Oh, is that the magician you were telling me about, Rosa?” Luke asked as he wiped his face on his shirt.

Rosa glanced at him and nodded. “Yes, it is. He’s pretty stupendous,” she paused and gazed down at her soaked clothing. “I suppose I better change then.”

Vyn rocked his head and gestured at his cousins. “You as well, cousins.”

Luke chuckled and shifted. “Well, it sounds like a good way to pass the evening. I’ve always wanted to poke around about how magicians do their tricks.”

Vyn smiled and tilted his head. “It’s about understanding your audience.”

The group of adults waved off the children, who continued their game, and they began pacing back toward the house. “How are you feeling?” Rosa asked.

“Much better. I can breathe today,” Vyn declared.

She pulled out the braid in her hair, and the wavy damp locks curled around her neck. “That’s great. Hopefully, you get some rest while we fly tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving already, Vil,” Elsa sighed.

“Yes, it feels like we’re going to miss you even more. Without Father, we won’t have someone reviewing our French or economics work,” Sasha grumbled.

Vyn tutted and shook his head. “You can always call me. We shall set time in the evenings during the week, and I have your tutor coming to the estate next week. Now that everything with your father has come to pass, it’s time to finish your education.”

Ester approached as they reached the patio. “Rosa, can we have an audience while you change?”

Oh? Rosa nodded and adjusted her soaked shirt. Ester beckoned her inside, and they walked together. It was odd and evident that she needed to speak to her, but why? It felt like there was another shoe about to drop.

The ladies traversed up the staircase to Rosa’s floor, and Ester straightened her dress. Rosa offered the Dowager Queen entrance before following suit and shutting the door. Ester sat down in the armchair as Rosa gathered her clothing from her larger bag.

“You wanted to talk?” Rosa questioned.

“Go ahead and change. I have some questions I need to be answered before you leave tomorrow morning,” she murmured.

The young woman smiled and went into the bathroom. Interestingly, even after her title shifted, she still remained in control of everything around her. Rosa had plenty of respect for Ester and was even more understanding of her now. Vyn may have gotten his temperament from his uncle’s teachings, but there was no down; he learned how to command a room from his aunt.

She had changed into a simple burgundy dress with her hair wrapped in a bun. When she entered the room again, Ester was staring at the flowers sitting on the dresser. There was a forlorn expression that breached her eyes—the declaration of missing a piece of her heart.

“What can I do for you today, Your Majesty?” Rosa asked.

The woman’s eyes cleared, and she glanced at her with a smile. “I wanted to talk to you about my nephew.”

Rosa’s eyebrows raised as her lips parted. “What about him?”

Ester shifted, and her eyebrows dropped closer to her sharp blue eyes. “I understand both of you will take this journey together however you choose to do so. However, do me a favor when you’ve returned to Stellis? Could you please be positive he has you to lean on?”

Rosa breathed as she sat down on the mattress. “I know he’s compartmentalizing. Yesterday I noticed that he nodded off reading his uncle’s letters. He said he missed him in his sleep.”

Ester touched her chest and bowed her head. “My sweet Vilhelm. He would let the world see him as unshakable if only to keep others safe.”

“You raised him. Tell me, does he ever want to take up the mantle as Edmar would have liked?” Rosa asked as she fiddled with her fingers.

Ester smiled and tilted his head. “What is your largest concern?”

“About his decision? Well, I suppose it has to do with the decision itself. If he chose duty over his passion, would he regret it? He wasn’t raised to be king, correct?” Rosa asked.

“He was raised to lead,” Ester shrugged. “I don’t think Vyn would choose anything without knowing in his heart it would be best suited.”

“Do you think he wants to?” Rosa questioned, and her eyes dropped a moment.

“Do you think he does?” Ester asked.

Rosa inhaled and shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. He keeps his plans so close to his chest. If he did want to, I think it wouldn’t be immediately. He would redesign everything about his research center, his patients, and his life as a whole. It would be a remapping of what makes Vyn Richter, himself.”

Ester’s head bounced, and she gestured to Rosa. “Would you support it?”

“I wouldn’t have a choice. It’s his life. I just want him to be happy. I would miss him terribly,” Rosa sighed, and her eyes moved to the vase.

“Do you plan on growing a serious relationship with my nephew?” Ester asked.

Rosa pressed her lips together as her cheeks darkened. “Maybe? We have plenty to go over when we get home. Things I didn’t know,” she stopped and shook her head.

“You didn’t know you felt?”

Rosa exhaled and agreed. “Yes.”

Ester smiled and pressed her hand to her chest. “I would like to share a story about Edmar. Care to listen?”

“Of course,” Rosa smiled.

“It was before we began to court, and I knew he would one day be king. I was rather on the fence about such due to my dreams of running my father’s companies. I wanted to take on his role eventually, and I was quick as a whip at business. However, Edmar was this beautiful and magnetic being with such a vast understanding of human life. I was enamored and was quite torn; if I became his wife, I would be giving up my liberties to run my father’s companies. If I declined him, he would leave my life forever and marry another,” Ester paused and closed her eyes with a smile on her lips.

“There was a beautiful moment I shall never forget, to my dying day. Edmar and I were walking my parents’ estate in France. The air had just turned chilly in the announcement of the coming season. He pulled out a stone from his pocket and handed it to me. When I asked what it was for, he declared that no matter where our lives take us or where my heart travels, I will always have a piece of Svart with me now. I knew at that moment, with him at my side, I could make the impossible possible… so we had,” Ester finished and dug into her dress pocket, producing a small stone.

Rosa beamed and exhaled. “That’s beautiful. Instead of asking you to be his, he released you with the knowledge that his heart would always be yours.”

“This stone doesn’t just signify the land or the man. His intentions were to declare that the memories and affection were greater than the need to ruin my dreams. My nephew will never ask of you to leave your dreams. He might be searching for different answers within questions. However, my suggestion to you, Rosa, is to take to heart what it means to have dreams as a child and dreams as an adult. What we think is the goal when we are younger becomes so much more. I secretly take care of my husband’s legacy, and the companies know why secrecy is so important. Eventually, when laws are changed, the roles in which we live will as well,” Ester finished.

Rosa licked her lips and scowled. “Are you suggesting he has thought about becoming king with me here?”

Ester laughed and raised her eyebrows. “Darling, did you not know that he’s enamored by you?”

Her cheeks truly couldn’t get any darker. “Well, it’s, we haven’t really talked about it,” Rosa sputtered.

“My final word of advice on my nephew,” Ester declared. “He will never expect you to have the answers you aren’t ready to share. He knows them. Edmar was very much like that, and Vilhelm used to be. However, where Edmar flourished, Vilhelm sought domination. The roads of love are difficult, and Vyn has yet to embark on such an experience.”

“Me either,” Rosa shook her head.

“That’s perfectly acceptable. Just remember he may understand, but he can’t give you the answers for your own heart. Be kind to your heart, even with your convictions,” Ester declared and stood up. “I imagine Vyn’s friend has arrived. I’ll let you finish up.”

Rosa stood and reached for Ester’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you for raising him to be compassionate as well as brilliant.”

“It was my pleasure,” Ester beamed and released her hand before moving to the door.

Rosa paced over to the head of the bed and picked up the button. She stared at the shiny object and thought back at Ester’s words.

When I asked what it was for, he declared that no matter where our lives take us or where my heart travels, I will always have a piece of Svart with me now.

Maybe it didn’t represent Svart, but something more. Vyn could have been suggesting with this that no matter where either of them was, she would always have a piece of him. As the theory swirled in her mind, she remembered the timbers of his voice and the smile on his lips. He was confessing his feelings, knowing she would eventually understand this—a simple button.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #tot fanfic #tot #tears of themis vyn #vyn richter #tears of themis mc #tot fluff #tot angst #tot vyn #tot mc #tot romance #royal society

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