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viennakarma · 5 months

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Satisfaction [Part 2]

PART 2 OF SATISFACTION

Summary: Four times Lewis tried to apologize, and one time he didn't need to.

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: female!reader, apologetic!Lewis (finally), physiotherapist!reader, a little bit of romance, Lewis is trying, reader is more forgiving than the author would be, cursing, a bit angsty, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long with this! I had a writer's block specifically with this one. For everyone who sent me asks about it, I read everything, sorry if I didn't reply to all! Luckily, one dramatic anon sent me an ask saying they would graduate college with a doctorate before this came out, and it made me laugh out loud BUT it actually sparked something in my brain and I managed to write, lol. So, thanks, Dramatic Anon, I owe you one :D

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes (haven't had the time to proofread).

Find me on Twitter!

“Hey, Lewis! How are you doing?” Angela said as soon as she picked up his call, and Lewis held his breath before answering.

“Yeah, uh, I’m alright-”, he scratched his face nervously.

“I hope you’re not giving Y/N a hard time anymore, yeah?” Angela joked a little, her voice light.

“Oh. You know about that?”

“Yeah, I called her a few days ago to check in how’s the work and she mentioned you were not very receptive,” Angela said and Lewis noticed that, even saying that, you didn’t call him what he was. A complete prick. “And since she didn’t call again, I assumed things got better between you two.”

“Well, about that-” Lewis sighed, not knowing.

“What?” Angela paused, her voice suddenly serious again.

“She resigned. And it was entirely my fault.” He ripped the band-aid off.

“Lewis, what the actual fuck?!”

“I was awful to her. Way worse than I assume she told you. And before you call me every name under the sun, I need to contact her and apologize. Unfortunately, she blocked my number now, so if you can kindly let me know her address, so I can apologize.”

“You better fix this mess, Lewis.” Angela said before ending the call, as less than a minute later, a text popped up on his screen, your address. Which was in London, not very far from his own neighborhood.

Lewis sent flowers to your place with a small note apologizing and asking you to unblock him. When you didn’t answer and didn’t unblock him, he called the florist he had ordered to double check if you had received the flowers. You did. So you just didn’t want to talk to him. He kept sending a bouquet every day for the next three days. On the fourth day, as he was back home, he decided to go to your place himself.

He brought another bouquet, ringing the bell in your house. He rose the bouquet to cover his face, and he heard your voice, opening.

“Hi there, buddy! If I give you a hundred pounds, would you not bother bringing these flowers here? Just- throw them on the bin or something-” You stopped abruptly as the flowers lowered revealing not the young delivery man who’s been bringing flowers to your place every single day, but Lewis Hamilton himself.

“So you’re not even receiving the flowers?” He asked, sounding hurt.

“I got the first one, and I have no interest in anything that comes from you,” you managed to say, looking him straight in the eyes.

You looked exhausted, your hair was messy and your face lacked any makeup. But worse of all, you looked hurt and angry.

“Wait, let me just- let me apologize, I can explain even if it’s not-” He dropped the bouquet, pleading.

“Just fuck off, ok? You have not a single reason to be here today.”

“I was an ass to you and-”

“And now we’re nothing. We are just strangers, nothing more, nothing less. Fuck off!” You said and didn’t even give him a second before slamming the door on his face.

II.

So the flowers were a no.

And he wasn’t sure where to go from that, since he couldn’t come up with any other way to make you at least give him a chance to talk.

He was still trying to think of something when he crossed paths with Oscar Piastri during media day. Lewis stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the rookie driver munching on a little protein bar, the package showing it was the same as you had offered him weeks earlier.

“Hey, there, Oscar!” Lewis greeted him, “if you don’t mind me asking. Where did you get this?” He pointed to the little package in his hand.

“Oh, Lando’s new PT! She’s covering for Jon as he’ll be a few weeks on paternity leave.”

“Oh, is she here?”

“At McLaren, yes.”

Lewis nodded, going straight there, not bothering with explaining why he was there just walking in. He found you in a small room with Lando. You were guiding him through a stretching session with a silicone stretching. Lando was telling you something and you were laughing, a hand on his shoulder as Lando pulled his arms in and out.

“-no way you said that! Poor thing, she must have been scared!” You said, then you two laughed.

You were looking healthier than the last few times he had seen you. You looked like you had been sleeping well, and your hair was pretty, and you were wearing make up.

As Lewis approached, and you noticed his presence, you stopped laughing, face getting serious and focused on Lando.

“Oh, hey man!” Lando greeted him, smiley and unaware of the thing between you two.

“Hi. Y/N, can I talk to you? I just need one minute then I’ll leave you alone.”

You scoffed but didn’t look at him, and Lando looked from your face to Lewis’ confused with the tension suddenly so thick he would be able to cut it with a knife.

“Y/N, can you just-”

“You’re all good, Lando. Tomorrow we do another session an hour before Free Practice, and then a stretching session between FP1 and FP2.”

Lando nodded, unsure of what to do so he just watched as you turned away and packed your bag, leaving with long strides through the door.

“Mate, I don’t know what the fuck you did, because I’ve never seen her be mean ever since I met her. Good luck, though, seems like you need it.” Lando said, leaving to the opposite side.

Lewis muttered “fuck” before going after you. He found you outside the motorhome, and ran up to block your path, but he miscalculated and you ended up running straight into him.

“What the fuck? Dude, just leave me alone!” You tried walking past him but he blocked you again.

“Please, I’m so sorry! Really, I am, I was such a dick to you and you didn’t deserve any of that.”

You didn’t look at his eyes, adjusting your bag as you sighed.

“I just- I don’t understand why you are doing this. I’m no one, I’m nothing. Just go on about your life.”

“No, no- You’re not nothing. I’m really sorry for the way I treated you when all you offered me was kindness.”

“Fine! Ok.” you muttered, seemingly exhausted, “Can I go now?”

He knew you didn’t actually forgive him, so he just let you go because he didn’t want to pressure you into something you were visibly not ready for. It didn’t mean he would give up, just that he needed a different approach.

III.

Lewis managed to find out that you’d stay a few more weeks working with Lando, so he arranged a well crafted plan to have you listen to him.

Desperate times asked for desperate measures.

So he managed to talk Lando into letting him drive you to the track that weekend, you two would have time to talk on the drive. He waited behind the wheel watching as you went to the backseat to leave your bags, then you opened the passenger door, smiling and chatting. But you stopped smiling as soon as you sat down and noticed him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, sounding more annoyed than angry.

“I’m your ride to the track today.”

“I’d rather not,” you muttered, removing the seat belt you had just put on.

“There’s no one else to take you there, please, just let us go,” he asked softly. You sighed, putting on the seat belt again and he smiled reaching the cup holder and offering you a cup of coffee, “got you a coffee.”

“Thanks,” you took it begrudgingly, but as you took a sip, you noticed it was your favorite, “how do you know I like this coffee?”

“You told me, during one of our sessions.”

“I thought you weren’t listening to a single word I said,” you scoffed, almost disdainful. He took it, because taking your anger was little compared to what he did to you.

“I listened to you.”

“Weird way of showing, then.”

You stared at the road he was softly driving. You didn’t like his company, that much was clear, but he was on a mission, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to properly apologize.

“I don’t even know why you treated me like trash,” you muttered suddenly, sniffling like you were trying to contain the tears, “just- I was so happy, you know? I’ve always been a fan of Formula 1, watched it growing up and everything. Then I get here all happy to achieve the greatest dream and I just get treated like shit from day one. I tried to be funny, I tried to be kind, I tried to be silent, and none of it worked. I don’t understand what you want from me now! I’m a person too, ok? I get sad and frustrated, and I have my own problems, but I don’t go around making everyone else’s lives shit just because I’m mad!”

“Yes, you are right. I treated you like shit when you never deserved it. I really regret it, for what it's worth,” He sighed, looking at you for a moment before focusing on the road, “my life was shit. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. I was just coming out of a relationship that I thought meant a lot to me, and I just lost Angela, who is one of my closest friends, and I was on the verge of losing my seat. It felt like everything was going wrong for a few weeks.”

That made you pause, turning to stare at him.

“What do you mean, losing your seat?” You sounded genuinely curious, and even a little worried.

“The negotiations for a new contract weren’t going ahead, and I was really worried Mercedes was going to get rid of me.”

“But you’re like- one of the GOATs! Why would they lose you?” Now you sounded exasperated, like you couldn't believe that.

“Well, now everything is alright and signed, but it felt like I was really at risk back then.”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, mulling over his words, trying to wrap your head around his excuses. You were thoughtful the rest of the drive, until Lewis pulled up in a parking lot at the track. Finally, you nodded to yourself.

“I forgive you, Lewis. Just- Don’t do that to anyone ever again, it’s not cool,” you said, unlocking the seat belt, “thank you for the ride and for the effort in apologizing. Goodbye, Lewis.”

You took your bags from the backseat and left after waving at him again. It felt like a closed chapter to you, and you could bury whatever resentment you felt towards him. It was freeing in a way.

IV.

Lewis didn’t see you for a couple more race weeks, despite casually walking in front of McLaren’s garage and hospitality. He couldn’t catch a glimpse of you and he genuinely worried that your last goodbye was definitive.

Fortunately he saw you again late at night after a race. Almost everyone had left already, and Lewis had a long debriefing meeting with his team, so it was sheer luck to find you on the way to the parking lot, where you were standing against the wall, hugging yourself under a big coat and holding your bags. You seem worried and unwell.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound like he wasn’t ecstatic to see you again, “are you ok?”

“Yeah, um- I missed my ride back to the hotel, so I’m trying for an uber or something,” you said, but Lewis unnoticed how you were pale and your lips looked dry.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look like you’re about to pass out.” He pointed, and you breathed in, slowly. You felt very, very cold, with shivers up your body that you miserably trying to contain.

“I’ve got a little fever,” you mentioned, finally. Lewis raised his hand and touched your forehead, feeling it way more warm than a little fever.

“Little fever? You’re burning!” He exclaimed, putting his own Mercedes coat over you, then taking your bags and putting them over his shoulder, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back.”

“You don’t have to, really-”

“I’m not leaving you here in the late hours of the night while having a fever! Now, come on!”

He held your forearm, worried you’d stumble and fall or something. With a big umbrella to face the rain, he guided you to his car, where a driver was waiting. The two of you sat on the backseat as Lewis instructed the driver to take you to the hotel.

“Should we take you to see a doctor or something?” Lewis asked.

“No, don’t worry, I already took an antipyretic. It should work soon.”

Back in the hotel, Lewis accompanied you up to your room even when you wanted to refuse, but he said he was worried, and it felt honest, so you let him take you up. He didn’t let you say anything as he pushed the door of your room and walked you inside.

“Are you still feeling cold?” He asked.

“Yes,” you put your bags away, but you watched as Lewis went into your luggage, “um- excuse me?” you crossed your arms, annoyed at him going through your things.

“Change into this, it will keep you warm,” he tossed you a sweater and matching pants, “I’ll ask room service for soup, so you can warm up.”

Huffing, you went into the bathroom and changed, glad because you were in fact a little bit warmer. You wore socks for the cold and got into bed, where Lewis helped tuck you in, pulling the duvet tight around you.

“Why are you doing all this? We’re just strangers, Lewis.” You shook your head, watching as he walked around the bed and sat beside you over the duvet.

“We’re not strangers, and I wanted to help,” he shrugged.

“We are strangers, we know nothing about each other,” you muttered.

“Well, I’m Lewis, my favorite color is purple and I have a dog named Roscoe,” he said which made you chuckle a little, “there, not strangers anymore.”

“Well, I’m Y/N, my favorite color is yellow and I don’t have a pet yet, but hopefully soon.”

Lewis eyed you carefully.

“I know you’re with McLaren on a temporary contract, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to come back to Mercedes after that,” he said, slowly. You sighed, shaking your head.

“I won’t go back, Lewis.” You said softly, for him to know you weren’t angry anymore, but the world had spun, life went on…

“But- Ellie said you were such a big fan! It’s ok if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I’ll understand. But I don’t think it’s fair that you lose your chance in such a big dream because of an asshole like me!”

“There are always other dreams to have, Lewis. When a door closes, others may open,” you untucked your arm so you could hold his arm in comfort. He held your hand, and when he felt your cold hand, he rubbed it softly, to warm you up.

“It’s not fair-”

“Lewis, I’m moving to Madrid in a few weeks.”

He stopped, visibly deflated hearing your words.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve never-”

“Lewis, it’s not because of you,” you pushed the duvet, freeing yourself so you could sit up beside him, backs to the headboard, “I got an amazing offer from Real Madrid. I’m gonna join their PT team.”

“Oh.”

His stomach dropped once again, thinking that life would lead you two different paths, new future, new plans, and Lewis won’t even be able to make it up to you through time as he was hoping for. Lewis expected that, with you coming back to Mercedes, he would have time to apologize with actions, more than just words.

“They’re my favorite football team, and I’ve always dreamed of getting there,” when you noticed how down he was with the news of your departure, you pressed his hand a bit more, “I told you there are many dreams to achieve.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about it if I hadn’t been so-”

“That’s enough, Lewis, it has nothing to do with you. This is my choice, something that I also dreamed of. It’s not the end of the world. If anything, there are lessons in what we went through.”

He wanted to ask you to stay, to give him and the Mercedes dream one more chance, but he knew it would be selfish of him to ask that. And he wasn’t willing to be selfish with you anymore. He would only have maybe a few more weeks with you, that he intended to nurture a friendship with you.

When your soup arrived, he stayed and watched you eat, and you thanked him profusely as the meds started working and you felt the fever dissipating.

Lewis ended up going back to McLaren to find you all the time. Sometimes he brought a coffee for you, some other times he just wanted to invite you to lunch, or he wanted a protein bar, and after almost two weeks of that, his excuses ran dry and he only said he wanted to check on you. and he had been checking on you for a couple more weeks now.

“So…” Lando muttered with a knowing smirk, “you and Lewis, uh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, as you spotted Lando from behind, analyzing his squats.

“You went from hating him to becoming his friend pretty quickly,” Lando pointed.

“And…?”

“I don’t know but he’s here all the time to see you.”

“Nah, he’s just passing by.”

Lando let go of teasing you and switched topics to talk about something else for the remainder of your session. After you finished and Lando went for the post race debrief, you were getting ready to leave when Lewis found you again.

“What do you want?” You squinted your eyes at him. Lando’s teasing voice still in your head.

“Moody, are we?” Lewis joked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Lewis.”

“Fine, fine! I’m taking you to dinner later today, ok?”

“Are you asking me out or demanding?” You frowned, pretending to be moody.

“I’m inviting you and implying I’m not taking no for an answer,” He winked.

“Lewis, I don’t think we-”

“Think of it as a farewell, celebratory dinner, yes? You’re leaving so soon to Madrid! Pretty please?” He joined both hands like he was begging.

“Fine. Stop pouting.” You rolled your eyes and he giggled, before leaving.

He texted you two hours later saying he was coming to pick you up. You dressed cozy and comfortable, since it was absolutely not a date. He texted you to let you know he was downstairs when you were finishing with your hair. As soon as you got in the car, you checked Lewis’ outfit.

“Is this ok?” You asked, pointing at yourself.

“It’s perfect.”

Lewis drove for forty minutes to the next town over. In the end, he took you to a cozy restaurant, small, a little cramped but so familial and cozy. You two sat in a corner booth, far from the windows. You went over the menu as Lewis explained that this place’s food tasted homemade and they also had vegan options, so he always went there whenever he was in that part of Italy.

You told Lewis everything about your move, how you had found a great apartment close to work, how you had enrolled in Spanish classes to start a month after your arrival, and everything.

After a hearty meal and chatting a lot, you two decided to go for a walk to eat some ice cream. The air was windy but not very cold, so you just walked side by side a little late at night.

“Are you sure nobody will see us?” You looked around to see if anyone had recognised him or had taken pictures.

“Yes, it’s very discreet in this part of town. Besides, it’s a little late, so not many people are around.”

“This is a very good gelato, Lewis! Thanks for taking me out today.” You muttered as the two of you walked around a big, dark park. You stood under a lamp post, finishing the last of your ice cream.

“How are you feeling about Madrid?” He asked you, looking interested.

“Nervous. Excited. I don’t know.” You whispered, smiling, you held the lamp post and let it take your weight as you flung around, all smiley because of the bit of wine you had at the restaurant, “It’s like a new adventure. You know when you’re about to do something that might be risky but gratifying? You’re scared but you have to-��

As you completed a full 360 around the lamp post, you were met with Lewis walking up to you and kissing you. He pressed his lips to yours, firm but tender, and it took you a while to assimilate what was happening. You held his coat and pushed him away only enough to break the kiss. The lime gelato kiss that had your stomach full of butterflies, and your heart beating almost out of its cage.

“Lewis-” you shook your head, still confused.

“Sorry, I- I just couldn’t pass on the opportunity,” he sighed and his breath fanned your cheek.

“We shouldn’t,”

“Why not?” He raised one hand to cradle your face, his thumb running your cheek.

“Because we started too messy. And- and I’m leaving soon. We don’t need to complicate things.”

You whispered, still not pulling away fully. You wanted it, so bad. But you knew you couldn’t get tangled in a messy situationship right before leaving. He was tempting, but you weren’t willing to risk whatever time was left of your silly little friendship.

So you took a step back. Still, you took his hand in yours, letting his warmth engulf you.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, but you just smiled at him, seeing how he was memorizing your face, and how your eyes were shining bright for him.

“It’s ok. Just, wrong place and wrong time, right?”

He gulped, nodding.

You didn’t kiss again, but Lewis held your hand the whole drive back to Monza.

Understandably, Lewis didn’t come back for your last week at McLaren. Despite being a little hurt about his absence, it didn’t really upset you, deep down you knew that it was better like this. The distance would make the goodbye easier for the man who wormed his way into your life. The whole team at McLaren gave you a farewell cake, which was sweet considering you were just a temporary hire.

You had tears in your eyes saying goodbye to the team and to the formula 1 track.

After that, you went back to London to finish packing, and shipping a few of your furniture and belongings. The dinner with your family and closest friends was filled with tears, and you finally caught up with Angela, explaining everything that had happened.

When the day came, your parents and siblings took you to the airport and you said goodbye with teary eyes and a heavy heart.

You were about to board when a sudden commotion caught your attention, and from between the crowd Lewis Hamilton emerged, running towards you as if he were in a marathon. Confused and shocked, you waited for him to get closer, and as soon as he stopped in front of you, he held your face with both hands and pulled you in a kiss. After two seconds, you returned the kiss, deepening it by opening your lips. He devoured you for a couple more seconds, before pulling away when you were both panting.

“Lewis? What the fuck?”

“This doesn’t have to be a goodbye, right? We can- I don’t know, we can figure it out,” He muttered, face close to you.

“Lewis,” you hesitated, “I’m moving away. We’ll spend most of out time in different time zones-”

“Wouldn’t you like to try? It’s better to try than spend our lives haunted by what ifs” His argument was convincing. And the fact that he was just centimeters from your face, and the fact that you had just kissed and his cologne was divine… Very tempting.

“Lewis, the next time you cause a scene in front of an entire airport, I’m killing you,” you whispered, pecking his lips once more as the crowd dissipated of people boarding the plane.

“I wanted it to be memorable, like a romcom.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are. You’re lucky you’re handsome” You rolled your eyes, but Lewis could still see the big smile on your face, eyes glinting.

“Is that a yes to my question?”

“One date, Hamilton. And we’ll see where it will go from that” You smiled, pushing his chest, taking a step back.

“I’m going to Madrid as soon as the triple header is over,” He promised, pulling you close again by the waist.

“You better! I don’t know, maybe I will meet a handsome Spaniard,” You joked, playing hard to get. You closed the distance so you could whisper in his ear, “You better work if you want any prize, pretty boy.”

He gasped at your seductive words, and you pushed him away. He smiled at you. Pulling one of his necklaces, he put it around your neck, a pearl one, very beautiful. The airport called all the passengers for the flight.

“A promise. Yeah?” He said, holding the necklace softly.

“Yeah. See you soon?” You nodded.

“See you soon.”

He watched as you walked away, and before boarding, you turned around and blew him a kiss. He laughed, pretending it hit him right over his heart.

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#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #fic talk #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #formula one #formula 1

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sweaterkittensahoy · 11 months

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My chronic pain disabilities (hip fuckery; migraines) do not stop me from working. It doesn't mean I should treat my disabilities with less respect than disabilities that DO make it impossible to work.

When my endo pain was at its worse, I did all the things I was supposed to do--according to HR--to protect my job. I filed ADA paperwork. I communicated when I used it. I had the doctor's note. Etc.

Two days before my hysterectomy, I got a call from HR. "Oh, we're not sure we'll have work for you after you recover."

Which, first of all, is fucking illegal to say to someone who has ADA paperwork in place with you.

And, second of all, you're a fucking liar. I was the ONLY tech writer in a company of 500 people. Don't bullshit me.

I should have filed a complaint and sued the fuck out of them, but all I wanted to do was be able to possibly get out of pain and not have to worry about my paycheck after that. So, I called someone else in the company who I knew would lose his shit if I told him I'd basically just been told I had no work to do.

Two days after surgery, I had an email from HR to my personal account. Which, technically, they ALSO should not have used to contact me while on medical leave that was--like my disability paperwork--100% lined up and signed off on.

But the HR person wanted me to know that "Oh, looks like there IS work for you! Lol! Didn't know!"

This is bullshit. She was very aware.

Years later, I'm at a much better company. My supervisor, who is nothing but supportive, recently floated that it might be good to have ADA paperwork in place for my migraines because they flare during stress, which is the time I'm needed at work THE MOST.

No shit: I went into hard shutdown for about two minutes after he said it. It wasn't a threat or a dismissal of my migraines. It was him going, "Oh, hey, so no one can ever try to use them against you to say you're bad with stress, you might do this."

But all I felt was how I was absolutely fucked over by a bad company because they said, "You need to follow these legal steps," and I did, and they still tried to get around them.

So, no, I'm not dealing with getting punished if I have more than 2k in my bank account. I'm not dealing with people touching me, or my assistive devices (I don't currently use any). I can park anywhere in a lot and walk to the store entrance. But I was disabled, and I AM disabled, and I have had people try to punish me for existing in a body that just fucking HURTS because it HURTS.

It's Disability Awareness Month. I am disabled. Less so than I was ten years ago, which is a fucking stroke of luck. But also my right hip has started to go now, and who knows what the next 10 years will bring.

It's Disability Awareness Month. If someone says, "I'm disabled, and I want to talk about my experience," please pay attention and listen and learn and understand there's all sorts of ways disabled people are fighting to be treated with basic human dignity and under the basic rule of law.

#disability awareness month #disability #chronic pain #endometriosis #ada rules

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he-calls-me-kitten · 6 months

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Hiii I was wondering if you take requests? If you do could you pleaseee do a Lucifer and MC smut 🙏 if not it’s totally okay but I also wanted to say you are genuinely one the best writers I’ve seen you have a serious talent 🫶🫶

Aww thank you so much for your kind words 😭💕 Also ofc it's okay! Lucifer x MC smut coming right up :3

#05 Complex

Lucifer x GN! MC

You appear in the student council room at recess, following the instructions he texted you. He's already there waiting. The way he is sitting alone at the head of the table - you already know you're not here for work.

He didn't even gesture at a chair or pull one out for you. He simply pushed himself away from the table. You already know where you were supposed to sit.

"MC, I need you to revise some documents to make sure I didn't make any errors." Lies. His work has always been immaculate. He has never needed revisions.

You take your place on his lap as intended and pretend to rifle through the documents, barely scanning the titles and subjects. Meanwhile one of his hands had already made it inside your shirt, casually going back and forth on your perked up nipples.

"Lucifer...." You groaned.

"What is it? Did I miss a signature somewhere?" He made it worse by pinching it. You almost jumped. He chuckled at your reactions.

He was getting more daunting lately, claiming you anywhere and anytime. It was only a matter of time until you got caught. Sometimes you felt like he wanted to get caught.

He wanted others to see just how deeply under his spell you are, how futile their efforts are to win you over from him. His superiority complex would be the death of you.

"You're more sensitive than usual today, MC." He said with his length halfway inside you. You were trembling, bent over the desk for support like this.

"It's too open...a-and the next meeting is in 30 minutes." You knew these warnings were nothing but more of a turn on.

"Hmm...what a pity. I could have gone for much longer." Lucifer palmed your ass lovingly. "But no worries, I can still provide you plenty of pleasure with the given time."

As a busy overworked man, he was a master at the art of quickies. You learnt that from hands on experience. And now as he held down your wrists above your head and thrust into your hole at an ungodly pace, you wondered what he would have done with more time.

You tried to bite down on your uniform collar to keep yourself from moaning too loud. He kissed the side of your eyes - tears had begin to leak from sheer pleasure building up inside you. "You silenced yourself without me having to tell you - how fast you learn. I'm so... proud of you."

He was done mere minutes before the door clicked open and Diavolo and Barbatos entered.

"Ah early today as well? I'm glad I can atleast rely on you both to be punctual." Diavolo laughed blissfully unaware that Lucifer fucked you on his very chair. Lucifer nodded while squeezing your thigh under the table.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me Lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader

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hazbinhotelie · 18 days

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If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Sure thing!

I sat on the cold bathroom floor, my back pressed against the bathtub, staring blankly at the small blade in my hand. The fight with Alastor replayed in my mind on an endless loop, each harsh word cutting deeper than I thought possible. I had thought I was past this, thought I was stronger, but tonight proved otherwise.

The fight replayed in my head on an endless loop, each word a fresh wound. Alastor’s voice, usually so calm and soothing, had been sharp and cutting. The anger in his eyes haunted me, even now. I had tried to stand my ground, to voice my own frustrations, but it had all spiraled out of control so quickly.

The anger, the hurt, it all felt so overwhelming. I had to find a way to numb it, to make it stop. My hand trembled as I traced the edge of the blade against my skin again. I’d lost count of how many marks I’d made, the familiar sting a twisted comfort. It was a desperate attempt to regain control, but deep down, I suppose I knew it was only making things worse.

My hands shook as I stared at the old scars and fresh marks on my skin, a testament to my struggle. I had tried so hard to move past this, to find healthier ways to deal with my emotions, but tonight it had been too much. The guilt and shame washed over me, threatening to pull me under.

The house was eerily silent, the only sound the faint ticking of a clock in the hallway. I wanted to call out for Alastor, to apologize, to explain, but the words stuck in my throat. What if he was still angry? What if he didn’t want to see me?

I didn’t hear him approach, but suddenly, he was there, standing in the doorway. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, the marks on my skin, the tears on my cheeks. For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension from our fight hung in the air, a palpable presence.

"Hey," Alastor said quietly, kneeling down beside me. "What are you doing?"

I couldn't meet his eyes. Shame washed over me, mixing with the guilt and frustration already swirling inside. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't know what else to do."

“No, no, don’t.. oh my little doe,” he said softly.

I couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped my lips. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to…”

Alastor reached out, gently taking the blade from my hand. His touch was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the cold metal. He set it aside, far out of reach, before turning his full attention to me. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

"It’s okay," he said softly, his fingers gently lifting my chin. I hesitated, but eventually, I met his gaze. His eyes were filled with worry and regret, but also with an unwavering love that I didn't feel I deserved in that moment.

The warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes, it was all too much. I broke down, sobbing into his chest as he pulled me into his arms. He held me tightly, his hand running soothingly up and down my back. I could feel his heart beating against my own, a steady rhythm that began to calm my racing thoughts.

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated, my words muffled against his shirt. “I didn’t want to… I just…”

"We had a fight," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you. It doesn't mean you have to hurt yourself."

Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over and tracing hot paths down my cheeks. "I felt… I was- I was wrong, Al, I just- you were so mad and I- I wanted to apologize but-," I struggled to explain, despite the fact he said I didn’t have to. I felt I had to, that he deserved an explanation. It wasn’t his fault. “I couldn’t. So when you walked away, I…. I didn’t know what to do,” I said, my voice cracking. "I tried to calm down, I just.. I felt like I couldn't breathe."

I clung to him, my body shaking with sobs. He didn't rush me, didn't try to hush me. He just held me, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions. I could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, and I focused on it, matching my breaths to its rhythm.

"It’s okay. I’m here," he murmured into my hair. "I'm sorry I yelled. I never meant to…” he paused and shook his head. “I’m right here, now. I’m with you. You don’t have to worry."

After what felt like an eternity, my sobs began to subside, and the tension in my body started to ease. Alastor continued to hold me, his hand running soothingly up and down my back. When I felt a semblance of calm returning, I looked up at him. His eyes were filled with tears, but there was no anger, only a deep, abiding love.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again, my voice hoarse from crying.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. "You don't have to apologize," he said gently. "We both said things we didn't mean. But hurting yourself isn't the answer. We can work through this. Okay?"

I nodded, feeling a little better now. Alastor wiped away my tears with his thumb, his touch tender and loving.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, helping me to my feet. "And then we'll talk. No more hiding, okay?"

"Okay," I said, my voice small.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said softly, his fingers gently tracing the marks on my skin. “We’ll get help, find better ways to cope. But please, don’t ever think you have to go through this alone.”

I nodded, unable to speak. The guilt and shame were still there, but his words gave me hope. We had a long road ahead of us, but knowing that he was willing to walk it with me made all the difference.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice full of conviction. “And nothing will ever change that.”

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #the radio demon #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #alastor x reader

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savannahsdeath · 9 months

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HEAR ME OUT I HAVE A REQ!!!!

Sooo basically Ellie being the mafia boss and reader being her precious girlfriend that she (and basically the whole mafia gang) protects.... Idk it could be a fic or just a oneshot but I NEED MAFIA ELLIE IN MY LIFE

HEARING YOU OUT !!

MAFIA!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! just some typical mafia shit idk

writers note: focused more on life life than romantic life in this one BUT maybe, just maybe, I'll do a part2 with more love scenes (basically a smut)

being a housewife for your mafia boss girlfriend wasn't something you were dreaming about as a kid, but you like it. ellie's buddies are loud, suspicious, they make lots of inappropriate jokes or act all posessive but they would never hurt you. in fact, they won't let anyone hurt you.

today, just like every friday, she brings them home to play cards and talk. you, of course, had to clean the whole house. ellie didn't ask you to do that - her people weren't.. the cleanest people anyway, but you couldn't stand the thought of your guests finding a layer of dust on a shelf or a ball of hair in the bathroom.

the doorbell rings and you run up to greet them, and, mainly, see ellie. as you open the door, you're presented with a bunch of burly men and only one, but your favourite, woman.

"good evening, mrs williams." smiles the first one, before entering.

the feeling of being called by ellie's last name was still new to you, but it sent a warm feeling from your heart down to your stomach.

you stand back and watch as the men enter, filling out your living room. they seem more at ease than usual, and you're sure ellie is to blame. they greet you with a smile, before stepping aside to reveal ellie last.

"hey, babe." ellie says, as she wraps her arms around you and pulls you in close. she smiles up at you, with those green eyes of hers. she leans in for a kiss, and you gladly give in to her, feeling her soft lips on yours. you get lost in the moment, forgetting to breathe and not pulling away for a quite long time, only making a break when it's really needed.

"c'mon, ellie, or we'll start playing without you!" one of the men calls out from the dining table.

the men's voices in the background quickly fade away as you are consumed in the moment.

ellie, though, pulls away, and laughs. "i'm coming, i'm coming!" she shouts before letting go of you and walking towards the dining table, with you trailing behind her.

you happily take a seat on ellie's lap, as you both set your eyes on the deck of cards. as she shuffles the cards, you watch in adoration of her every movement. you are quickly snapped out of your trance when you felt something touch your leg, and you see ellie looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

she leans in and whispers; "don't move too much, 'kay?"

she winks and starts to deal out the cards.

usually you tried to avoid looking at ellie's cards - your 'poker face' wasn't really working and your reaction could make her lose. this time, you didn't pay attention to the rules, so you didn't have to avoid it. you didn't know wether her cards are good or useless anyway.

you find yourself not paying much attention to the game, instead getting caught up in the conversations around you. you happily listen to the others, learning more about their business dealings. you don't know much about poker or card games, and you aren't the best at lying, so you keep yourself out of the game.

you start to feel the warmth of ellie's soft, loving touches, as she plays with your hair or strokes your thigh.

the evening continues on with you, ellie and the other men playing a few rounds. you watch her intently, noticing every little detail about her body language and facial expressions. even you couldn't read her poker face, though.

you slowly reach for her hand, and begin to play with it a little, twirling her fingers.

that's one of the good sides of being a mafia boss's wife, but there's also the.. well, worse ones.

they visited you again and you could tell something's wrong straight ahead - it was tuesday. you came back from a walk to see a man tied to a chair in your kitchen. he had pieces of cloth wrapped around his head - one around his eyes and the other in his mouth, making him lose ability to see or speak.

"what do we do with him?" another man asked, one you knew from the friday evenings.

ellie was about to say something before she noticed you, awkwardly standing in the doorstep, scared and too surprised to move. she quickly grabs your arm and steers you out of the kitchen.

"it's okay, love. don't worry, it has nothing to do with you. just stay in the other room, alright? i'll come grab you in a bit. it'll be okay." ellie says reassuringly, as she leads you into the living room.

you hear the sound of the man in the kitchen making muffled sounds, as he struggles and squirms in his chair.

ellie sits you down on the couch, and then walks out of the room. you feel uneasy as you hear the man in the kitchen continue making sounds, but you sit quietly as ellie tells you to.

you watch as the door to the kitchen slowly closes behind ellie, and you hear muffled shouting and noises coming from inside. the others come into the living room, to check on you and see if you're okay.

"hey, everything alright? did ellie tell you what's going on?" one of them asks. "don't worry, it'll all be over soon. we just gotta deal with him quickly."

you can hear the muffled shouting in the kitchen continue, and the other men around you try to ignore it. as they discuss business deals, and joke about various topics, you continue to feel a pit in your stomach, worrying about what is happening in the kitchen. they don't seem eager to tell you what is going on, but they try to keep you distracted. one of them tries to joke with you, but you barely respond, as your mind is focused on what is happening in the next room. you start to feel sick, and your face starts to feel hot.

"what is she doing?" you ask quietly, but as soon as you realize your voice doesn't reveal your fear and confusion you add in a louder tone; "who is he?"

the room goes quiet, as the others hear you speak up. you can see some of the men exchange worried glances, but they still try to keep their composure in front of you. it doesn't do much to help you feel better, as you look at them with fear in your eyes.

the others look among themselves, as if asking what to do, before one of them speaks up. "you know this isn't really something you need to worry about," he says, trying to put a calming tone on his voice. "but since you ask, he's just a guy working for a rival gang. he was trying to get some information on us, so we need to... erm... make sure he won't do it again."

you notice how vague their answer was, as they try to keep you in the dark. at the same time, the meaning was painfully obvious.

you take a moment to process what the man said, before speaking up again. "but.. why here, in our house?" you ask, with your voice still shaky. "surely you must have your places to do... business?"

another man steps in to answer, trying to calm you down with words that sound too well rehearsed.

"no need to worry about a thing." the other man says, in an overly reassuring voice. "like i said, it isn't really your problem. you know, these guys always try to stick their noses where it doesn't belong. your girl here is just showing him the consequences of messing with the wrong people, alright?"

you feel like they are trying to brush off your concerns, and you doubt that they're being completely truthful with you. you knew it's probably just to protect you but you wanted to know everything.

the muffled shouting in the kitchen slowly dies down, and there's only occasional sounds of movement from inside - probably someone cleaning up the mess you could only imagine was done.

you are left feeling confused and anxious, unsure of what happened in the kitchen, or how this will play out.

later, when you were laying in bed in your lace nightgown which ellie loved seeing you in oh so much, you managed to get the tied up man out of your head.

that's what i should expect anyways, right?

ellie just came to the bedroom after taking a shower, her wet hair glued to her face. she kisses you on the cheek, before walking over and climbing onto the bed next to you. you look at her, and notice that something seems off about her behaviour.

"how did it go?" you ask, referring to the events that happened earlier.

ellie is taking her time in answering you, and you notice a slight hesitation in her voice. "it went... well. it's nothing you should worry about, love. besides..." she leans towards you and whispers; "i handled it, alright? you don't need to concern yourself with it." she plays with your hair, making it look like she's trying to distract both you and herself from thinking about it.

you watch as ellie's wet hair drips onto the bed. she continues to stroke your head, trying to give you the impression that everything is fine.

was it really fine? oh, well...

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #reqs open #ellie the last of us #mafia!ellie #mafia au #mafia!ellie williams #mafia!ellie x reader #mafia boss #mafia boss!ellie #mafia boss!ellie williams

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mauesartetc · 11 months

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Thoughts on Helluva Boss 205 ("Unhappy Campers")

Wow, this... This one may actually be worse than Murder Family. That's impressive.

Is anyone else noticing a pattern of Helluva Boss episodes going absolutely nowhere? Each one ends without affecting the larger plot in any meaningful way. Season 1's structure was fairly episodic as well, but at least back then there was some sense of progression.

I usually include separate lists of pros and cons in these critiques, but in this case, I have so few compliments to give this thing it's not worth it. I tried my best to find more to like about this episode, but it gave me bupkis to work with. So I'll just present all my notes in chronological order.

Let's get this over with.

-Looks like the rehab facility where Barb used to live is located in Sloth (on account of the floating islands and all the pink in the environment), just like the hospital in this season's previous episode. We've never seen care centers in any other ring, so... Does Hell society's opinion of sick people dictate that they're just lazy? Some clarification on that might be nice.

-"She's got a job now. A life. Don't fuck it up by findin' her." Holy shit, the nurse is the most mature, sympathetic character in this entire episode. Tasing Blitzo in the butthole earns her bonus points in my book. Nurse Pussyface, you are way too good for this show.

-Why is Blitzo even trying to visit his sister if he's been kicked out of the facility several times and knows she hates him? What's the impetus? "Look, I know you hate my guts, but Dad's dead, and he named you in the will." Or maybe he had an experience that reminded him of her and figured he'd drop by to see how she was? Y'know, something.

-By the way, Helluva's animation is usually a highlight, but here there's not much to say about it. It wasn't especially memorable or ambitious; just kinda... passable. Even the climactic fight scene (which I'll get to later) didn't have much to write home about.

-How the hell didn't the client notice the holes in his boat before he rowed it out into deep water? Because I'm pretty sure it would leak when it was still in the shallow end of the lake, unless this is a unique real-life boating phenomenon I'm not aware of. Also, you'd think this guy was a bit too gung-ho to get out on the lake for someone who can't swim. Did someone have a gun to your head, dude?

Fun fact: Did y'all know I was on staff at a summer camp once? We had a pond, canoes, and a boathouse just like the camp in this episode. One thing we had that this camp apparently doesn't, however, is this important rule: No one gets in a canoe without a life jacket. EVER. But, well... We see later that the adults at this camp don't care much about safety, so I guess that's fair enough. (Though I'm curious how they manage to stay open, or what the client's loved ones have to say about his mysterious disappearance.)

-What did the client do to get sent to Hell after he died? Mrs. Mayberry murdered someone, so that's why she's here, but this kid seems pretty chill-? (And don't even try to explain this on Twitter, writers. If it's not in the story itself, it ain't canon.) I also can't help but notice that his design reflects the way he died, but every other sinner's appearance is just random. Consistency? Who needs it!

-Some unintentional hilarity for ya: Here's Millie's face after the client recounted his death.

And she holds this pose for the remainder of the scene. Was there NO direction on how to animate Millie here?! This is a grim situation and she's smiling?! I get that she's a demon, but damn that is cold. It's never been clearer that half her role in this story is just smiling and looking cute, to the point the animators don't know what else to do with her.

-Richard Horvitz's valley girl voice was kinda funny. I dug it. Not sure why Moxxie and Millie had to dress in drag for anything other than cheap laughs, though.

-I know Millie's hurtin' for more development, but this story's conflict would have made SO much more sense from a character standpoint if Moxxie were getting all the praise from the campers. Think about it: He's the one Blitzo always shits on and doesn't believe in. He's the one whose father doesn't love him. He's the one who never gets positive attention from anyone except his wife. Suddenly the conflict is much more compelling: Now that he has approval from these humans, maybe he doesn't need it from Blitzo anymore (not sure why he needed his approval in the first place, but whatever). Maybe he'd realize what he's been missing, and how shitty Blitzo's treatment has been in comparison. Could this be the breaking point that finally gets him to muster some self-respect and quit IMP? We'll never know, because the episode has miscalculated where the most interesting dilemma actually lies.

As far as we can tell, Millie's had zero reason to doubt herself, and we never see her being mistreated like Moxxie has.

Take these lines of dialogue: "And for once I feel like... Like I'm important! Like I'm somebody to be proud of!"

Wouldn't they fit so much better if they came out of Moxxie's mouth?

-I kinda liked how the lyrics of Millie's song were humble while Moxxie's lyrics were egotistical, showing that being down to earth will win you friends while being self-centered will turn people off. But is that really the kind of message we need in an adult show? It's a useful lesson for children, but after you hit the age of this series' target demographic, most people will have the social skills to know better than to pull what Moxxie did at the campfire.

-Speaking of Moxxie being super immature, why does he weep when a bunch of preteens ignores him? They're...They're kids, Mox. They aren't your peers. Literally who cares. This behavior makes no sense outside of (once again) cheap humor. I could understand being bummed out that you're not good with kids if you wanted to have your own someday, but even that doesn't warrant actual tears. And this makes him look like a massive hypocrite later on when he asks Millie why it matters what "these yokels" feel about her. I mean... You seemed to care a lot about how they saw you, Moxxie...

-Moxxie's excuse for why it's so hard for him to get information on the case is that everyone's too busy "swooning over" Millie. Here's a thought: Why doesn't Millie get the info? She's the one everyone likes, so it should be a snap, right? Well, once again, the characters get railroaded because the writers can't entertain any other plot ideas. And of course Moxxie ends up getting blamed for everything as if he's the only one who fucked up here.

-Why the hell would a summer camp show so much favoritism toward a single camper that they set up a friggin' concert for this camper and this camper only? Yeah yeah, "viral sensation" and everything, but 1) The news crew can wait another day or so for camp to end in order to conduct an interview (y'know, something that wouldn't require a huge-ass stage and pyrotechnics that'd cost the camp boatloads of money), and 2) The camp staff thinks Millie is a child. How fucking irresponsible can you get to lavish this much attention on a kid? Think it'll go to her head or something? Psssh nah. Also, you're telling me none of the other campers are the tiniest bit jealous? How do you think they feel, seeing this one kid get treated like a god while they're left in the dust?

Okay, plot-wise, the writers decided they wanted Millie to sing a song so she's occupied during the final showdown with the killer. Easy solution: Camp talent show. That way, the adults treat all the campers equally, and Millie gets her (more believable) moment in the spotlight.

-Oh hey, we finally see Asmodean crystals in action. And of course the first one we see is a butt plug.

SuCh a MAturE shOw, GUys! (Sorry, I'm still laughing my head off at that.)

So, a bit of backstory for those who aren't familiar: We first learned of Asmodean crystals in the Season 2 premiere, when Stolas opened the grimoire to reveal Norse runes on its pages. Someone on the internet was kind enough to translate:

Now here's the deal: Blitzo tells the lust demon to open the portal with his crystal (even threatening him at gunpoint), leading me to believe only non-imps could use Asmodean crystals and that's why he needed the grimoire to get to the human world.

But guess what happens later:

Blitzo's sister Barb, another imp, uses a crystal on her bracelet to open a portal back to Hell. So what exactly was the point of stealing the grimoire from Stolas??

BLITZO. YOU. DENSE. MOTHERFUCKER.

Okay, maybe I'll be generous and acknowledge that there might be another explanation, like Blitzo getting banned from using Asmodean crystals because he's misused them in the past. (Maybe there's a spell that causes the crystals to burn him every time he tries to hold one. Something of that nature.) But at this point I don't trust these writers to fill in their plot holes. Or plot portals, as the case may be.

-The portals themselves are kinda pretty, though. I can appreciate that they look different from the portals created by the grimoire.

-Moxxie calls Blitzo "sir" in this episode despite Blitzo telling him to use his first name in Truth Seekers. Moxxie then uses it in "Ozzie's" (if I remember correctly), but now he's back to "sir" for unexplained reasons-? Coupled with how their relationship has reverted back to square one with Blitzo learning nothing (as well as no one bringing up the agents or what they can do to stop them leaking the proof that demons exist), do the writers just want us to forget that episode or what?

-Blitzo chastises Moxxie for dragging the case out for a week, but it took him a week to track down Barb. This hypocrisy is never addressed.

-At the boathouse, Blitzo tells Moxxie he's looking for his sister, then kicks down the door, revealing Barb inside. Moxxie asks, "Do you know her?" "Do I know her? That's my sister, fuckface!" That's... oddly repetitive, writers. I get that Moxxie wouldn't immediately make the connection since Barb's disguised as a human, but there's a more graceful way to handle that in the dialogue. Something like, "Is this her?" "Oh, now you're on the ball!"

-In an earlier post I expressed concern that these writers wouldn't handle Barb's addiction well, and I'm somewhat relieved they didn't go into it. But I also predicted she'd amount to a genderbent Blitzo instead of having her own personality, and... well...

Overindulges in addictive substances? Check. Runs a business that requires travel to the human world? Check. Pottymouth? Check. Uses sexuality as leverage? Check.

It would've been nice to at least get a hint about what Blitzo did to make her hate him so much (and perhaps confronting that would make him rethink how he treats Moxxie-?), but I guess we'll have to find out when she comes back in seven episodes or so. Yaaaaay.

-Barb says she picked this particular human as her supplier because teenagers are easy to manipulate, but she really had no way to accomplish that other than flashing her panties at him? Assuming Barb and Blitzo are the same age, she's in her 30s, and... it's just a tad creepy and uncalled for, even if this kid's legal. That's a pretty big age (and power) gap regardless. This is one of those times when it looks a lot more predatory when you switch the genders, but, importantly, women can be predators too. Bad optics, y'all.

-The climactic fight scenes in prior episodes were snappy and exciting, but this one's pacing felt really sluggish. I get that the song in the background had a slower tempo than we're used to in these action scenes, but would it have been so hard to double-time the animation? Also, previous fight scenes were notable for their creative choreography, but Barb wrapped her tail around Moxxie twice in a row. Having trouble coming up with new fight moves, guys? Like damn, she's an acrobat. She could do so much more.

-In another edition of "characters being idiots because plot", Moxxie and Millie make out in front of everyone who thinks they're related. They couldn't have run off to somewhere more private?? Apparently no; this needed to happen so Millie's internet fame would be dashed... or, here's another option: Show how the internet popularity cycle is so damn short that everyone's already moved on to the next sensation. You could have made that funny if you actually put in some effort. Like... The faux-incest was just so unnecessary.

-Much like Murder Family, another unfunny ending where Moxxie's dreams are crushed. Blitzo gets his hopes up only to call him a "fuckin' disgrace". But remember, guys: He'S HArd oN hiM BEcauSE hE CAreS! (Fuck it, I think I'll just edit a supercut of every time Blitzo has berated Moxxie, pre- and post-Truth Seekers.)

Oh and look, Millie's glaring at Blitzo, which is totally the same as opening her mouth to tell him off like he deserves, right?

She'll take on a whole gang of mobsters out of love for Moxxie, but standing up to Blitzo? Whoa, that's a step too far. Y'know, because he's the writers' favorite and he shouldn't have to experience any complications from his behavior. Same old story as it's been for a season and a half.

This ending would've been a million times better if it left off on a cliffhanger. Maybe this could have been Moxxie's final breaking point. After Blitzo calls him a disgrace, Moxxie could take a deep breath and...

MOXXIE: (flatly) I quit.

Then he walks out of the room. Everyone looks after him, stunned. When he closes the door, the screen cuts to black and the credits roll.

Oh shit, what's going to happen next? How will Blitzo deal with this? How will it affect Moxxie and Millie's home life? What kind of new job will Moxxie find to keep food on the table? Will he ever come back to IMP, or will Blitzo find a replacement? I know these writers aren't too interested in serialization or any sense of continuity outside of the stupid romance subplot (or hell, inside it), but good god, it would give viewers some exciting possibilities to look forward to.

This episode had so much potential and followed through on none of it. "Unhappy Campers" turned out to be a more fitting title than expected, as that's exactly what I was while watching this.

(Also this show needs a continuity coordinator like yesterday.)

#helluva boss #helluva critical #critique #criticism #review #writing #long post

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paintingpuff · 3 months

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Netflix ATLA and the Air Nomad Genocide

I've started watching NATLA, and though I'm not really enjoying it, I've found it really interesting to compare its writing decisions to the show as a way to break both down and see how their parts tick. Since NATLA is trying to be more faithful than some other adaptations, the changes it does make stand out more and reveal the mechanics of the storytelling.

While I overall think a lot of NATLA's changes--even the minute ones--made the story execution weaker, the more complicated and interesting change of theirs is the intro, showing the day the Fire Nation ambushed the Air Nomads.

Pacing Criticisms

Cards on the table, I think that putting this sequence at the very beginning was a mistake. Watching Aang's emergence from the iceberg in NATLA made me realize how much the original cartoon imbues its beginning with mystery that makes for a much more active viewing experience. Aang doesn't know much about the present, Katara and Sokka don't know much about Aang's origins, and in their back and forth of information, we the audience organically learn both. Watching Katara and Aang piece together how long he's been frozen in ice was more satisfying and natural than Grangran deducing everything immediately when Aang showed up.

But Sherlock Grangran was kind of the only decision the writers could do, because if they tried the build up the cartoon did, it would just feel tedious to the audience, because we already know everything from the start. They kind of wrote themselves into a corner there.

But let's ignore that problem. We could imagine in another draft that this sequence of the Fire Nation attack shows up as a flashback, kind of like what happened in ATLA with The Storm.

That then begs the question: How does this sequence’s inclusion change the audience's experience, and is it for better or worse?

Facing Vs. Hiding the Horrors

Both series portray very dark and horrific situations, but the way they try to evoke horror from the audience are very different approaches, and for me raises a question I've been asking myself for a while: When wanting to display discomforting violence, is it more effective to imply/hide it, or to show it in detail? Somewhere in between?

(I specify discomforting violence, as opposed to violence meant to be catharsis or spectacle.)

There are arguments for both. Explicit violence can create a visceral, physical reaction to an audience member (especially the squeamish ones), though for some it can come across as gratuitous and even exploitative.

Whereas hiding the violence can horrify the audience by leaving a lot to the imagination (insert that quote about fear of the unknown from Hack Penmanship Lovecraft), or give the sense that the events are so awful that even the camera has to look away. Some also say this gives the characters more dignity, though others think this softens the emotional reaction almost as a form of self censoring (there's a reason kid's media often tries to show horrific stuff off screen, such as the original ATLA).

Ultimately I've come to the conclusion that the former approach works for some stories, whereas the latter works better for others, all of it based on a ton of factors.

So I don't think NATLA's choice to delve into more detail about the Air Nomad genocide is an illogical decision. I wasn't sure about it when I heard it, but I thought that maybe I'm just attached to ATLA's off screen approach, so I kept myself open.

And dialogue issues aside, I don't think the scene is that poorly done. But it did ultimately solidify for me that ATLA's narrative is stronger without an explicit depiction of the Air Nomad genocide.

The Grief of Never Knowing

The image of Gyatso’s skeleton from ATLA has haunted me ever since I saw it as a kid. It was an emotional gut punch in a very well done episode, but this particular screenshot has stuck with me, and that is because of the Fire Nation soldiers. A lot of people have pointed this out, but there are a lot of bodies here, and it implies that Gyatso managed to not only kill these soldiers, but do it when they were strengthened by the comet. That image is very discomforting--Gyatso is always seen from Aang’s perspective, and thus we only see him as the gentle old mentor and friend, one who cheats at games and throws pies he meticulously baked.

It also puts into Aang’s position and the grief he has to face. From his perspective, he was gone only a few days as 100 years passed. He never gets to see the interim, and thus neither do the audience. He is left with the same implications as we are, and has to face the realities of grieving the fact that sometimes you’re not there when they leave.

An excellent point from @endless-nightshift here is how one of ATLA’s core themes is coping with the aftermaths of atrocities and war, analyzing their long-lasting affects rather than just the initial shock of violence--something I had never consciously realized but once said out loud makes a lot click into place for me. There is a reason the show starts a full century into the war rather than just a few years.

François Truffaut once said that “there is no such thing as an anti-war film,” because the medium of film is inherently better at elevating and glorifying what it shows rather than deriding or deconstructing it. While I don’t think it’s impossible to do the latter, the extended action sequence that is the intro to NATLA causes that sentiment to echo in my mind as I watch, rather than invest me into the story.

The implied atrocities of ATLA draws me in to empathize with the wounded characters and world, whereas the explicit action of NATLA pushes me away.

…and that’s where I was planning to end this analysis, but there is one thing NATLA’s intro adds into the canon that I think is actually genius--if they take advantage of it in the future.

The Air Nomads are Joy

When I first saw the addition of the Comet Festival, I saw it as a purely mechanical decision to have all the Air Nomads in one place for the attack, as well as to make the act even more scummy. However, the more I thought about it the more I realized how it could tie into one of my favorite themes of ATLA: the Air Nomads (and especially Aang) as the joy and hope of the world.

(I saw an old tumblr post about this theme that inspired this section. I wish I could link it but I can’t find it anymore, I’m very sorry and if anyone can help me find it tysm)

There is a recurring motif of associating the Air Nomads with humor and fun. Iroh mentions their good humor; Gyatso baking pies just to prank the other masters with it; Roku’s first airbending flashback being him using it to mess with his friend. This is a core tenet to Aang’s character as well. The first line he has in the show is inviting Katara to go penguin sledding with him. Half the stops he makes in Season 1 is purely to have fun. He excites Kyoshi island with an airbending party trick. The humor in ATLA’s tone isn’t just there because it’s targeted towards kids, but is the bedrock of the series’ themes.

(On a personal note, the humor is also what got me and my family into the show. We saw the intro sequence with Aang crashing into the statue and it made my mom laugh so hard that we watched the whole series, and years later we’ve rewatched it dozens of times and own all the DVDs)

Joy and fun and hope were the first things to die when the Fire Nation attacked, and part of Aang’s job is returning that to a world that has been scarred by decades of war. You may already be seeing where I’m going in regards to the Comet Festival.

A core conflict in the cartoon finale is Aang wanting to keep to the principles of the Air Nomads while still finding a way to stop the war (side note: I think the resolution and Aang’s decision to spare Ozai was a good one, I just think the execution was a little janky). Beyond the surface level conflict of who wins in the battle between Aang and Ozai, there is the additional tension of who will win ideologically. The return of the Avatar State is an interesting development in this dynamic, having Aang suddenly physically winning the fight, but spiritually losing up until the last moment. In the end, it is a triumph where Aang manages to find a third option to win both conflicts, despite them seeming diametrically opposed. It is about defeating Ozai and the Imperial Fire Nation by wholeheartedly rejecting their ideology of violence and might-makes-right.

But now I see a really cool opportunity for NATLA with what they’ve established in the intro sequence: What if Aang reclaimed the symbol of Sozin’s Comet for his people? That day of the Fire Nation attack, centuries of the Comet Festival were wiped over in history, with people now naming that event as Sozin’s Comet and the beginning of the war. Wouldn’t it be poetic for Aang to mark the ending of the war by wiping away that stain done to his culture, taking it back from the Fire Nation in what ways he can? To turn a tool for genocide into an event of joy and fun once more.

I’m reminded of moments from the cartoon like Suki commenting how beautiful the comet looks. It would just tie everything up beautifully, and I really really hope the NATLA writers--if Netflix does give them enough seasons to get there--take advantage of this.

So, to sum up what I think of NATLA so far: I think a lot of its changes have made the story weaker, but I don’t want them to stop trying changes. If I wanted a 1:1 copy of the cartoon, I’d just watch ATLA--it’s also on Netflix, after all. With more work, I can see the writers making changes that accentuate and build on the beauty of the original.

(Note: These are the thoughts I’ve accrued from just watching the first episode. I plan to watch more, but it does exhaust me at the moment. Still, I hope I can do more of these kinds of analyses, it’s a really fun writing exercise for me)

#puff analysis #puff talks #media analysis #atla analysis #atla netflix #atla live action #natla critical #yes the hack penmanship joke is from cj the x #go check out their stuff

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months

Note

if youre still doing the headcanons- "what is he doing here?"

Steve hadn't seen Eddie in two years. Hadn't talked to him in nearly three. He'd worked pretty hard to not have to hear anything about him or see any news about him for most of that time, too.

So when he sees him sitting on Dustin's couch, lounging, as if he belongs there, he gets a little pissed.

"What is he doing here?" He asks Dustin through gritted teeth.

Dustin failed to mention that anyone else would be at his house for their monthly dinner, let alone that Eddie would be here.

That Eddie was even back in Hawkins.

Eddie overheard him, sitting up on the couch quickly and staring at them both.

"Eddie's in town to visit with Wayne and he stopped by to say hi."

"And he's leaving?"

Eddie looked down at the floor.

Was he...sad? He looked sad.

Steve refused to care, he couldn't care. Not with how Eddie left.

No note, no phone call, just an apology through Dustin as if he should have ever been put in the middle of whatever they had.

But if he was this sad, maybe something was wrong with Wayne? Steve admittedly hadn't checked in with him in a few months, his questioning about what happened between them often leaving him feeling drained.

"No, he's not leaving." Dustin looked between them with an angry glare. "Neither of you are leaving actually. Not until you at least talk about things like adults. You don't have to be friends or whatever, but you damn sure can't keep doing what you're doing. Steve's miserable, Eddie's pretending he isn't. Fix it before we all tie you down and make you."

"Dust-"

"No!" Dustin held his hand up as Eddie tried to speak. "Fix it. I'm going to call Suzie and when I come back, you better at least be able to look at each other."

The next few minutes were silent. Awkward.

Painful.

He noted every physical change in Eddie, saw how thin he was, how the dark circles under his eyes had somehow gotten worse despite the fact that he'd left to make it big and succeeded. He should be happy.

He should be thriving.

He got everything he wanted.

He left Steve behind so he could.

"I guess we should at least talk a little," Eddie finally said, voice much quieter than Steve had ever heard it before.

"Sure."

Steve sat on the other end of the couch from Eddie, looked straight ahead so he could avoid making eye contact.

"I don't know if you keep up with me or anything-"

"I don't."

It was harsh, harsher than Steve actually meant to be. He saw Eddie flinch out of the corner of his eye, resisted the urge to apologize.

"Um. Okay, yeah. Makes sense." Eddie sighed. "I'm kind of. Okay, so I'm in Hawkins for more than just visiting Wayne."

"Okay."

"I'm here because the label isn't happy with my writer's block and they told me to take a couple months and write an album or they'll consider the contract voided."

"Mhm."

Eddie was bouncing his leg, an old anxious habit that clearly hasn't gone away.

"I'm hoping being back here will help. But I also just. I want to spend time with the people I care about. I miss everyone."

"Yeah, I bet."

"I miss you."

Steve's head turned to see Eddie looking at him, unshed tears building in his eyes.

"Eddie-"

"I know I have no right to say it. Or to even be here. I didn't just leave you, I left everyone. And I barely gave any explanation and I've barely kept in touch with anyone except Wayne and Dustin because I'm scared. I'm so overwhelmed all the time and I have so much pressure on me and I didn't want any of that I just wanted to make music and see the world. I haven't slept more than a few hours in two years. When I told our manager, he said to start taking cocaine. Taking it! Like it's medication! And I did actually use it a few times to stay awake. I hate it, hate the way I feel after, but it was that or fall asleep during photoshoots. And this sounds like I'm whining, but I'm just trying to keep it together long enough to make sure Wayne doesn't see how much I hate this and how much I just want to be here playing music at stupid bars and going fishing with him even though I hate fishing and playing D&D with the guys and kissing you."

Steve was biting back his own tears as Eddie's fell.

No matter what, no matter how he felt, no matter what Eddie had done to hurt him, it still hurt to see someone he loved hurting like this.

And wasn't that a thought.

He knew he still loved Eddie, he always would.

He just didn't think he would ever have to face it head on like this.

"Eddie, I." Steve cleared his throat. "I'm sorry things aren't what you wanted, but. I can't. I can't let you in again. I spent a year trying to tell myself you'd be back. A year watching your every move in newspapers and tv interviews. Waiting for the day you'd mention me or come visit and apologize for leaving like you did. But you didn't and I had to accept that. I had to force myself to believe that you didn't care because thinking that you did hurt worse. I couldn't love you the way I wanted to, so I had to tell myself you didn't love me, even though I'm pretty sure you did. I'm pretty sure you still do. But it wasn't enough then and it wouldn't be enough now, and I can't let myself settle for not enough. I've done it before, you know how that fucked me up. I can't let it happen again."

Eddie nodded once, then stood up.

He was leaving again, Steve knew it.

But then, Eddie sunk to his knees in front of Steve, placed his shaking hands on Steve's knees.

"If you tell me to stay, I will."

"Eddie-"

"No. Please. Tell me to stay. I don't want to go back and I need you to tell me to stay. Even if you never talk to me again, I need you to be the reason I give the guys when I tell them I can't do it anymore. They'll understand if it's you. They always knew it would be you."

"Stay. You need to stay."

Eddie sobbed as he dropped his head down, resting his forehead against Steve's knee.

Steve placed a hand on the back of his head, biting back a sob as Eddie's hands squeezed his legs.

Steve couldn't do this right now, he didn't think Eddie could either. Emotions were too high, Dustin was in the room down the hall, and Steve knew there would be yelling, and crying, and words said that might lead to regret.

But it was something to have Eddie here, something to have him begging for Steve to be the one to tell him to stay, something to know that Eddie missed him the way Steve missed them.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #headcanon #drabble #dustin henderson #angst with a hopeful ending #this got long #oops

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just-moondust · 15 days

Text

Honey & Herbal Tea

Part 1 Part 2

Aaron Hotchner x Fem OC

Summary: During an investigation, Hotch ends up being dragged out of a burning building by a fire captain. One he now kinda has feelings for.

A/N: Hotch kinda acts more like Thomas in this, with the giggles and all.

I know I'm a shitty writer, but hey, gotta write my own stuff sometime. This will have more parts eventually, just kinda testing the waters with this...

‐‐-----‐------‐-------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron Hotchner wasn't one to be speechless, but today had been one of those days.

Paramedics were scattered around the scene treating burns and comforting distraught victims. One in particular had been adamant that he stay put till he could get checked out for injuries, but the medical teams were stretched thin as is.

He watched, still a little dazed as the firefighters combed through the smouldering ruins of what was once an office building. One that he had barely made it out of alive. They were too late figuring out that this place was latest on the unsub's list of places to burn. As a result, more than a few people had been hurt. Thankfully no one had been killed. Whether that was down to his own stupidity for choosing to stay in a burning building to help evacuations or just plain luck, he wasn't sure. Either way, being slung over the shoulder of a freakishly strong female fire captain and rescued wasn't in his expectations.

The very same fire captain that was stalking towards him with a furious look on her face.

“Are you stupid?!”

She yells, though he's so taken aback at her aggression he doesn't answer, just blankly staring at her covered in soot. Freckles peak through the dirt on the tip of her nose and where she's away wiped sweat from her forehead.

When he stays quiet, her face turns to concern and she looks him up and down.

“Agent?”

She pulls off a glove and rummages around in the medical kit beside him for an examination pen light, shining in his eyes. It forces him to blink and snap out of whatever trace he was in.

“I-I'm fine” He tries to sound convincing, but all the smoke he'd breathed in had just made his voice crack and the captain shakes her head.

“No, you were in a fire without proper breathing apparatus. So you need to go to the hospital.”

Her voice is stern, almost matching his own when he's ordering his own team. He's not used to being ordered around, and he wasn't about to waste a time on a trip to the emergency room.

“No I don't have time for that-”

Aaron pulls off the oxygen mask and starts to get up, but she pushes him back down on the step of the ambulance, a frown of annoyance now on her face.

“Listen to me very carefully, Agent. You have symptoms of smoke inhalation and you may feel fine now, but if you go home without treatment, it will get worse and you'll die.”

Aaron could see this was an argument he wasn't going to win, this woman was pretty adamant.

The thought of Jack alone crossed his mind and he nods reluctantly, the captain's face softens .

“Good. Make sure you get some rest.”

She pats his shoulder, turning to Morgan and Emily who have appeared at the side of the ambulance, having apparently watched this whole exchange.

“Make sure he goes to the emergency room. Order him if you have to.”

She says, heading back to the singed ruin.

“You heard the lady” Morgan smirks, helping him to his feet. “Let's get you to the hospital”

If Aaron could speak without coughing his lungs up, he'd probably have told Morgan to shove it. He instead shoots him a look of disapproval as he slumps in the back of the suv with several bottles of water.

***

A few days later and he still can't get the dryness out of his throat. He's standing in the BAU kitchen stirring powdered flu medication into his morning coffee, clearing his throat.

“I find herbal tea and honey the best relief.”

He jumps slightly and spins around to the familiar voice.

A light copper haired, freckled faced woman leans against the opposite counter, her dark eyes watch him with amusement as he recognises the now clean and composed fire captain.

“Captain Kneath?”

She nods at the acknowledgement, unfolding her toned arms to reveal a folder tucked underneath that she waves in Aaron's direction.

“I have the latest arson report. I was told to deliver it to the agent in charge.”

He raises an eyebrow, realising she doesn't know she's talking to him.

“Sure, I'll take you to his office.”

She follows as he walks across the empty bullpen and up to his office. She lingers in the doorway as she watches him sit down at his desk and stare at her blankly. She returns the blank look, a thin smile forms on her lips.

“Very funny,” she pulls the door to, reading his name off it, “Agent…Hotchner.”

Aaron shrugs nonchalantly, though inside, he's very proud of his little joke.

She slides the report across his desk and sits in one of the chairs in front of it, smoothing her crisp shirt down as she crosses her legs, waiting for him to read it. In the silence, she glances around his office, taking in the sight of the trinkets and photographs. One in particular catching her eye, Agent Hotchner and a younger boy she could only assume was his son. Cute kid she thinks, not realising the Agent had finished skimming through the report and was observing her.

“So the source of ignition was thermite?” He asks, drawing her attention back to him.

“Yeah, it's pretty common for arsonists. And you can buy it legally.” She sighs, “sorry it doesn't exactly narrow down your suspect list.”

Aaron raises his palms to disagree, “you'd be surprised what tiny details can help. Thank you, Captain.”

He offers his hand, which she accepts with a firm grip.

“And uh, thanks for the rescue.’

That lightens her mood. Even if it does cost him a little dignity. The smile lines and creases by her eyes become more defined as a quiet chuckle escapes her.

“You're Welcome. Just don't do it again, Agent Hotchner.”

She backs out of his office with a smirk, leaving Aaron with an uncomfortably hot blush on his face. One he can't cover before Rossi enters the room, double taking at the departing Captain. The look on his face tells all before he's even opened his mouth.

“Dave, don't.”

Rossi pleads ignorance, “what? I never said anything.” He makes himself comfortable in the previously occupied seat, nosing through the arson report.

“I'm just saying, she's pretty smokin’. Pun intended.”

“Please, stop…”

“Oh look, she left her number on the report. For official queries though.”

Hotch sighs loudly, airing that his patience was wearing thin. He knew Dave was only teasing, but it was the last thing he needed.

After a long, gruelling brainstorming session, the team came to the unwanted conclusion that it could only be a firefighter setting such the blazes. That meant questioning the responders.

Before Aaron can even begin to dish out assignments, Rossi volunteers himself and Aaron to go to the downtown station.

They bring Reid along, mainly because Aaron knows he'll stay focused on the work.

As the three of them enter the open bay, they're greeted by a group of firefighters who look up from the kit they're inspecting, faces dropping to looks of aversion when federal badges are shown.

One reluctantly shows Aaron up to their captain's office, knocking on the open door.

“Cap, feds are here.”

She briefly glances up from what she's typing, spotting Aaron behind the shorter woman in the doorframe, an eyebrow raised in interest.

“Thanks, Em. Tell the others to play nicely please?”

She nods, letting Aaron into the office, not before passing him with a glare as she heads back downstairs.

“They know why you're here, that's why they're being so hostile…”

Kneath says, continuing to type away. She makes a gesture for him to sit and he obliges. The similarity of the scene from this morning in his head as he inspects the shelves behind her. Books, old helmets and a singular photograph. Looked so be the entire crew with a few extra family members gathered round a loaded up Christmas dinner table. Happy smiles on everyone.

The sound of the captain's laptop shutting brings Aaron's attention back. Her face appearing more stern than disapproving, her hands rest atop of the closed laptop together. Why did he feel like he was about to get told off?

“Agent Hotchner, it may not be a surprise to know that I'm quite familiar with the profiles of arsonists.” She begins to explain, he doesn't interrupt, opting to hear what she has to say.

“I know that you're here because there is a theory that firefighters are often responsible for these specific types of fires. That they're often male, white, young and have a history of trouble.” Her eyes narrow and she leans forward, “That's just under half my team. And while I appreciate you have a job to do, what I don't like is the fact you didn't think to consult me first before interrogating my guys.”

Aaron takes a moment, he feels like he's 16 year old again, being lectured by the young teacher in high school he'd had a crush on for getting into too many fights. He didn't really think straight then either.

“Captain, you're right and I apologise,”

He swallows, fighting the urge to look away from her face and down to his lap.

“But we still need to question everyone. Any details, no matter how small, are important.”

She sighs, rubbing her temples as she thinks it over.

“Fine. You can ask questions. But I will be present as well as a union rep, if they choose to have one there.”

Aaron sees this as good as it's going to get, nodding in agreement.

“Come back tomorrow, I'll have everything ready.”

They both stand, walking down to the bay to Rossi and Reid in some kind of territorial standoff with two of the men.

“Griff, Phil, that's enough.”

She calls, and the two back off. Aaron can't help the nerves from somewhere in his stomach emerging at her authority over them, her composure, her voice sounding so stern. Did he even find it.. attractive?

Rossi certainly knew he did by the smug look on his face when he spots Aaron's split second look of distress from his internal debate.

He waits till they're back in the car to start digging for details.

“So we like a woman in charge now, hmm?”

Hotch tightens his grip on the wheel, refusing to play along with the tease. Reid however, hasn't had the memo.

“What'd you mean?” He asks, popping his head between the front seats, looking at Rossi, who's in turn still smirking at Aaron.

“Hotch has the hots for the lady fire captain…”

“What? No way” Reid frowns, looking between the two of them, “right?”

“I can fire both of you.”

“Hmm interesting choice of words-”

“Shut up, Dave.”

***

“Thank you Emma, you can go. Send in Callum next.”

Captain Kneath says as the fifth interview is concluded. She sighs heavily, her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose as she paces behind Reid and Hotch at a table.

This wasn't looking good for a few of her crew, the feeling of unease that someone in her crew was responsible. The loyalty they all had to one another was becoming a problem, though she felt she was the one betraying that trust by letting this whole thing happen.

“We can take a break, Captain?”

The older agent suggests from his spot in the corner of the room, but she dismisses the idea.

“No, it's alright. I want this over as soon as possible..”

The next interviewee appears in the doorway, she looks up at the newest addition to her team with an eased smile.

“Callum, please have a seat. This is the station's union rep, Graeme. Are you happy for him to sit in?”

“Uh, yeah…Sure Cap.”

The two shake hands briefly as Callum sits with him opposite the two federal agents as they introduce themselves.

“Can you tell us your whereabouts on Tuesday from 5:45 am to 6:30 am?”

“I was here, on shift. Cap was here too, she saw me.”

She nods when Aaron glances over his shoulder at her for verification. He scribbles down a note before asking the next few questions. Callum seems to be the most cooperative yet, maybe due to his status as the newbie. He wasn't quite all in on the family bond the rest of them shared.

“And did you notice anything unusual about your colleagues' behaviour before you were dispatched to the fire?”

He shakes his head.

“Everyone was cranky. We were about to clock off and then we had another 4 hours of work”

“What about during the response?”

He lets out a frustrated sigh as he thinks back, shifting in his seat as he looks up at his Captain for a second. She catches on, her face softening as she notices.

“Cal if you think somethings wrong, say it” she encourages gently, the young man nods, looking back at Reid and Hotch.

“When we were looking for signs of a reflash…I was with Griff in the sublevel, he told me to split off. And I know you say that's the number one no go Cap, but we were all tired and wanted to get the job done faster…”

Kneath audibly exhales through her nose, her face resting in her hand to keep her disappointment hidden from him.

“...when I'd cleared my half, I went back to find Griff, he was picking up something and he put it in the pocket of his tunic…”

“Did you see what it was?”

“No, I was too far away” Callum shakes his head again, looking back up at his captain with an apologetic look.

“Cap, I'm real sorry-” He starts, but she raises a hand to cut him off.

“We'll talk about this later Cal. Is that everything agents?”

Hotch agrees and Cal is dismissed. Captain Kneath begins her pacing again, but the calmness she had before is now some kind of amused annoyance as the agents all look at one another.

“I can't believe this” she laughs, “they all know there are procedures for a reason. Griff, most of all.”

“How so?” Reid asks, sensing there's a tension between them. She shakes her head, beginning to unfold the story.

“Griff and I were both in line for the captain job. But he's reckless and cuts corners for efficiency and it got one of our own killed.”

The bitterness in her tone says all, a frustration that a few others in the crew no doubt harbour.

“Do you want him back in here?” She asks, the agents nod.

“We need his permission to search his belongings. If he still has whatever he took from the scene, it may be here.”

She calmly requests the rep to fetch her disgruntled lieutenant.

“He won't give you permission. Even if he had nothing to hide, he wouldn't.”

Hotch and Rossi exchange a look before Aaron stands up, “Captain, perhaps it would be better if we spoke to Lieutenant Griffiths without you present, given the strained relationship between you.”

The suggestion is accepted, and she follows Aaron back to her office, leaving Rossi and Reid to the questioning.

He shuts the door behind them and she slumps down in her desk chair, shutting her eyes and taking several deep breaths.

He takes a seat on the other side, observing her stress.

“Captain I understand you're frustrated-”

“Seren.” She corrects him, “ I don't think I can really say what I want to say as a captain.”

He nods, crossing his legs and sitting back in the chair. He's had members of his team under suspicion before, but never a betrayal that it looked like this was heading for. He can't blame her for wanting to kick and scream. He felt that way too sometimes. It was after all, as they say, lonely at the top.

“He is one stubborn son of a bitch. He hates that I got the job over him. Even after he got Jason killed….” She trails off, shaking her head in hurt.

“He's misogynistic and he's disobedient! Thinks because I'm a woman, I'm too soft on everyone. And don't get me started on the rumours he started…”

She sighs heavily, seemingly to have got the worst of her grievances out.

Aaron's eyebrows raise at the mention of gossip, but he doesn't press it. He can guess what it is, so instead he considers the position it puts her in, something that he'd never have to experience. Is this how JJ and Emily feel? He can't say he understands her.

“From what I've seen of this station and its crew, I think it's clear you were the correct choice.”

He says with a small smile involuntarily curling at the edges of his mouth.

She seems to accept the compliment reluctantly, a thin smile on her lips.

“Thanks, Agent Hotchner.”

“Aaron. Please.”

“Thank you then, Aaron.” She says, the tension of the situation beginning to ease a little. They wait in silence a few minutes more, then there's a commotion outside. When they both get downstairs, Rossi has Griff in cuffs on the ground and he's yelling at Callum for snitching. The rest of the crew are gathered round in stunned silence, one that Seren joins.

“What happened?” Hotch asks Reid, who's holding a makeshift evidence bag.

“We found what was left of the thermite container in his locker and he tried to run…”

“...and you both took down a 178 lbs guy?”

He asks in disbelief. Rossi perks up as he hauls Griff to his feet, who's now uttering insults towards Seren under his breath.

“Actually, we had help” He grins, gesturing to the crew around them.

“Well no one's gonna bad mouth our captain and get away with it,” one says.

Seren feels her heart swell with a little pride at her team as she realises they really didn't think less of her for going along with the intrusive investigation.

“It seems like Lieutenant Griffiths here, had quite the vendetta against you Captain.”

Rossi explains, returning from putting Griff in the car. Though that still doesn't answer the million questions she has.

“I don't get it though, why target those buildings? If he wanted to get rid of me, he could've done it in easier ways…”

She frowns, crossing her arms, looking between the agent for answers.

“We'll know more when we question him.” Aaron says, “for now, just try to put it to the back of your head.”

She nods, “please keep us updated” she asks as they head towards the car. “And thank you!” She calls after them, and heads back inside.

***

“Sorry I'm late” Seren apologises, taking the opposite seat to Aaron. He glances at his watch and grins, seeing she's only over by a few minutes.

“Busy day?” He wonders, she gives a wide eyed nod.

“Like you wouldn't believe. Though things are running alot smoother now I have a Lieutenant that actually works with me.”

Aaron nods along, pleased things had turned out okay.

Things had gotten a little messy during the court case, but Seren had kept her composure unlike her opposition. His legal counsel had reverted to trying to discredit her, that's when Aaron had heard the rumour she'd mentioned.

There was of course, no truth behind it. But she'd sat through the questions and the slut shaming till the jury was satisfied. Aaron felt angry for her. Emily saw it, the silent look of judgement Hotch so often wore in interrogations when people are undoubtedly guilty and still denying it.

She'd told him that it was an unfortunate truth about women in power, even having experienced it herself.

Aaron was aware of it, even realising he'd been quicker to jump to conclusions about how capable his female colleagues were. But seeing it so blatantly used was infuriating.

He'd met up with her several times after the court case had ended, much to Rossi's delight. Though he told himself it was more out of a sense of obligation.

They talked, got on more of a first name basis. She'd laughed at his little efforts at jokes and listened when he had shared frustrations.

Aaron was alot more involved than he knew he should have been. The stickler for procedure, the drill sergeant, as Morgan had once put it. Despite that and the persistent comments from Rossi, he'd worked up the nerve to ask for a date.

And now she was sitting across from him, cradling the cup of chamomile tea with honey in her hands. Wisps of stray hairs fall down the side of her face, having escaped the tight bun the rest of hair was still pulled back into. Her soft smile changes as she recalls a particularly funny rescue that has Aaron blurting out a giggle. He couldn't help it, but she noticed. Her eyes widen in surprise and her smile follows suit. His cheeks go red when she says it's cute.

God he was a mess in front of this woman.

Soon it's late, and the baristas behind the counter are shooting them looks till they take the hint to leave. They walk slowly and closely, fingers occasionally brushing as they exchange glances and words in the evening breeze till they're at her doorstep. They stand in silence a moment, wondering which of them would be the braver one. It's her of course, Aaron watches in mild amusement as she climbs two steps and pulls him by his tie into a kiss that he gladly accepts.

The sweet taste of honey and herbal tea lingers on his lips when she pulls away and says goodnight, leaving him in some kind of weak-legged, giddy state to wander home in.

#aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch x oc #aaron hotchner x oc #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner fic

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tfyoulookingatgiuxs · 8 months

Text

Gameboy

Billy Hargrove x NonBinary!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You didn't think the day could get any worse than this, but apparently you were wrong. tired from work, you came home and had to endure the shouting of your boyfriend and his little sister Maxine. Billy was going too far and you had enough.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18 MDNI!! angst, blurb, very bad language, argue, broke-up, sigarettes, threats, intimidation, use of Y/N, no prounons NonBinary!Reader, theme about sex, theme about violence, anger issue, daddy issue, toxic relationship, bad ending. (Please be careful what you are about to read, the themes here are quite heavy and with a bad ending. If you don't feel like it, don't read, thanks)

𝐀/𝐍: My first Billy Hargrove One-Shot. I have to say that he's a character i dont have much interest to be honest, but if you want me to do more one-shots about Billy let me know! Please support new writers and reblog! Im sorry for my english, this is not my native language. Hope you enjoy! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

Fuck, fuck and fuck! You thought in your head when you wanted to scream. You had just left the bar where you worked and you could tell you had had a rough day. Your boss didn't stop tormenting you, by now you seriously thought he was mad at you. But that doesn't mean you stopped trying, moving forward and taking criticism and then improving yourself, but despite this the people around you seem bad every day.

You didn't have to think about it. Absolutely not! Now you would have gone to your boyfriend's house and he will surely console you, tell you that everything will be fine–wait...no. Absolutely not. You haven't done these things for almost two months because of your full-time job and the constant evenings where Billy went out, obviously not caring that you needed him. You tried to talk to him a couple of times to find out if something was wrong but he only answered "I'm fine, we're fine, why are you asking me?" You seriously started to think if you were the crazy one or if tiredness was playing a bad joke on you. Billy seemed calm and sees nothing wrong with your relationship. You didn't say anything. You knew the issues Billy was going through with his father lately, so you let it go and once again agreed with him, and blamed it on the stress.

You got to his door before you even knocked and Billy opened it angrily, which scared you. As soon as he noticed you he took a breath and gave you a simple "Hi" before letting you inside. It often happened that you went to sleep at your boyfriend's house, especially when his father wasn't there. As soon as you entered you felt a certain tension in the air and saw Billy take his jacket from the coat rack. You were about to ask something but the boy with golden curls beat you to it "Leave Max alone, that little bitch won't come out of her fucking room until I say so" With that I left the house slamming the door.

Right from him. He doesn't even tell you where he's going or with whom.

Apparently he had argued with Maxine, his younger sister. You completely ignored what Billy said to you and went to Max's door. You could clearly hear that she was crying and that hurts you. Since you met Max she has always seen you as a second parent: kind, helpful, affectionate and above all loving. You were happy to have this relationship with her and when she happened to argue with her brother, you couldn't help but go and console her or try to resolve the situation. Before knocking you looked around, the house was a real mess, or rather a disaster, all of Billy's things scattered everywhere, starting with: weights, ashtrays, porn magazines and gameboys. Shit...

You still don't understand how you managed to fall in love with an imbecile like him. So handsome with those curls and shining face but also so arrogant, messy and not very polite. You gently knocked on the door “Max, it's me Y/N, can I come in?” You heard the little girl sniff and she agreed. You opened the door and found Maxine in tears and her face completely red from the outburst. Her pillow was wet while her cleres were a shade of red from crying. She was lying on the bed and as soon as she saw you, her breath seemed to come back. You sat next to her while you used your fingers to fix some strands of her red hair.

"Maxine...what happened?" You said almost whispering. It took her a while to answer you but in the end she did "Dad...a little while ago he was here and he was arguing with Billy," she began "I didn't know what they were arguing about but then he started hitting him.. ." Her tone was shaky as she tried to collect herself "Did Dad hit Billy?" You asked and she nodded “Yes, the asshole” okay, you got the point. “I stopped him but after mom and the asshole left, Billy started yelling at me” you raised an eyebrow “Why on earth?” The question of when might be obvious seemed difficult for Max to answer. “I don't know for sure, he just told me that I shouldn't meddle in his business” you hugged her and she immediately hugged you back.

“I'll talk to him, I promise” You said and Max looked up immediately. "No Y/N, don't do it. He's too angry and I don't want him to be angry at you too" you smiled at his sweet thought towards you. Max was now like a little sister or a daughter to protect for you, you wouldn't have let Maxine spend the evening locked in her room even though she hadn't done anything "Don't worry about me, I can handle your brother" Oh well, knowing how to handle Billy Hargrove was a big word, but that didn't stop you from consoling Max and preparing her some snacks to stop her crying.

You laughed and joked and Max had finally regained her smile and as if you were a good parent you put a blanket over her while you turned off the light, leaving Max to sleep peacefully. After at least fifteen minutes, Billy came home with a bottle of beer in his hand, you snorted at the sight. You had been waiting for him all evening and you would have at least hoped that for once he wouldn't come back drunk although he seemed quite sober.

"Where have you been?" You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest. He looked at you with a face that got on your nerves, he was bored.

"I asked you, where have you been" You repeated and he made a small moan and then replied "Outside for some fresh air" You didn't want to ask why he was drunk, you had gotten used to it by now so you let it go. Meanwhile he had thrown his jacket on the sofa.

"Why did you and Maxine argue?" Billy turned to look at you. He sat comfortably on the living room sofa bare-chested while he was ready to light his cigarette which he held between his lips. "Where's Max?" He asked "In her room to sleep after you made her cry" his face didn't change a bit, he was serious and definitely bored "Y/N, I specifically told you to leave Max alone, she was supposed to stay in her room " you nodded "In fact, she stayed in the room, but I kept her company" He let out a laugh and then looked back at your figure "You shouldn't have interacted with her" you shook your head "I'm sorry Billy, but I don't stay at your rules" at that statement he took the cigarette out of his mouth "I just want to know why you picked on her, you know I don't like seeing you or your sister like this"

"It's none of your business. What happens here is none of your business Y/N" you were shocked "Excuse me? You're my boyfriend, what happens to you is a fact that until proven otherwise concerns me too" You took a few steps closer towards the sofa. Billy giggled again and you were sure that the next one he would make would drive you mad "And let's hear, why on earth?" You gave an obvious look "Um, hello? We're engaged Billy, engaged!" You timed the last word well "Oh right, I forgot" he said it in a sarcastic way and now your nerves were getting frayed "Oh, I'm sorry this is weighing on you Billy" you too played the sarcasm card and he rolled his eyes "What the fuck Y/N! Now I have to tell you everything I do?" You nodded quickly "Yes, you piss me off that I have to tell you where I'm going, with who and why otherwise you'll ban me from going out" You almost screamed but then lowered your voice remembering Max in the other room.

Billy had lit his cigarette in the meantime "But that has nothing to do with it -" you stopped him while your blood was boiling "It certainly has something to do with it William!" Your eyes were different, they were like Billy had never seen them and when you used his real name he understood that you were seriously pissed. Billy hates being called by his real name and you knew it very well, you did it on purpose. You wanted him to understand how serious you were and how tired you were of the current situation.

“How dare you call me?” Even though he was drunk, Billy was high and his eyes were fixed on you as they gave you a horrible feeling. They wanted to intimidate you, but you weren't like that and he knew it from the first moment he met you. Even if you were afraid that he would knock your teeth out and then make you spill all your blood until you apologized, but you were brave and you wouldn't let yourself be bossed around.

You pointed your finger at him "Oh no! Don't try to make that angry dick face because I'm the angry one, you understand?" He was surprised by your arrogant response "Things have been going on like this for two months and I can't stand it anymore. You barely look at me, all you do is go out in the evening and you don't even tell me where you're going, but you do it when you're too drunk to drive and I have to pick you up" You started and he looked like he was listening intently "And this happens every Friday night Billy. I come home from work tired and destroyed by those filthy pieces of shit and instead being close to me all you do is complain" He snorted and now gave you a different look. He put the cigarette in the ashtray, even though he hadn't smoked it at all. He seemed calm and approached you smiling lovingly... was it the alcohol by any chance? Or maybe bipolar?

"Okay honey, you're right. I'm sorry, now how about we go relax over there–" you pushed him. You were disappointed. His response disgusted you more than expected "No Billy. You won't play your fucking game on me telling me I'm right when in reality you just want to take me to bed and fuck me the way you like it" his face was back and angry more than first "But apparently the other times you didn't hesitate to open your legs for me" it was cheeky and disgusting and you slapped him. You had become a burning fire and you were sure that you would burn him and his house down "Because I was blinded by a filthy imbecile asshole like you. I thought you loved me..." You felt the burning in your eyes as your eyes became shiny. You were too weak to face the truth but you needed it...as much as you loved that boy with all your heart, he would never love you "Oh so now it's me not loving you?" He said dramatically and the tears came out and this time you screamed "Billy, you never console me and only seek me out when you feel like having sex with me. What did you take me for? A toy? I'm your fucking gameboy by any chance?" He tried to answer but couldn't find the right words and blurted out "Shut your mouth" your nervous system was out of control and you raised your voice again "Not this time Billy! Not after I've opened and closed it as you please!"

Now you didn't care who could hear you or who you would disturb. You were tired. You didn't want this. You wanted a serious relationship with a serious person. You wanted someone who values you and takes care of you when you need it, always available and who doesn't see you as a sex toy giving you false illusions. "Calm down, young lady! Show respect" you looked at him and in front of you you had another person. Not Billy Hargrove, but William Hargrove...the real him. Despite everything he was that and you were sorry for ruining yourself by being around him. You didn't think he would ever threaten you, an attitude you hated and hoped your boyfriend wouldn't attribute to "Wow...now you're threatening me?" Billy later realized what he said and didn't reply "Congratulations Billy Hargorve. You ruined my life. You made fun of me and took advantage of me and used me to please your cock when it got hard and needy. But worse…you became your father” you never thought you would say it, but you did. With that sentence you knew you would unleash his anger and you didn't give him time to react "It's over." You announced and then headed towards the door and exited the house as he yelled after you in anger. You didn't want to hear it or deal with it ever again. You had endured enough and it was time to end it.

You had ended a year-long relationship and you now ask yourself in tears as you walked quickly to your house as you had done. You didn't know that obviously. You will never understand, you loved him, what did you need to know or realize? As beautiful and magical as love could be, it was also blind and cruel. It seemed to be a difficult game where the only possibility of victory was to survive until the game itself got tired of testing you, and then it throws a truth in your face that you would rather ignore. But ultimately it was better to suffer for the truth than to live in something that didn't exist.

Now you needed to get up and continue to live your life but you weren't motivated to move forward and live like you did before working, especially now that the only person you loved was just a liar who loved playing with people's feelings and what's more he preferred masturbating to porn magazines than spending sweet moments with you. Would you have suffered? Yes. And you don't know for how long, but you hoped for little since you couldn't cry and dry up your tears for someone who never deserved you and who the only thing he ever worshiped was your body.

#Spotify #billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargrove angst #bad ending #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things billy #max mayfield #billy hargrove x reader #daddy issues #broke up #toxic relationship #stranger things max #isabel larosa #billy hargrove blurb #blurb

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gofancyninjaworld · 6 months

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Garou in the Manga and Webcomic

So… the differences between Garou in the manga and the webcomic, how they're turning out, and what I make of it? Sure, for a story that seemed to be following the webcomic's tracks, Garou's trajectory sure has gone elsewhere (so far).

This is seriously long, and I make no apologies.

Let me start with the easy part, what I make of it. I think ONE is a DAMN LUCKY WRITER. You can't write something without wondering, at least in passing, how else you might have developed a character, a scene, what might have been. Heck, you can't make a decision in life without glancing occasionally at the path not taken and wondering where it might have led. ONE has gotten to not only wonder how else he might have taken the story of One-Punch Man, but to flesh out and publish TWO VERSIONS, and have audiences enthusiastically read both. Lucky, lucky man. A dog with two tails couldn't be happier and I'm glad for him. I'm also the greedy person double-fisting on story goodness. Mama didn't raise no picky eater! I find a lot to enjoy in both realisations of Garou.

Now for the tough part. I think I'm going to answer this from two perspectives, the in-story (intradiegetic) approach and the out-of-story (extradiegetic) one. I feel both are needed here for a reasonably comprehensive answer.

Rest below the cut.

A: In-Story

Garou's problems There isn't a change in the fundamental character, motivations, or outlook between WC!Garou and Manga!Garou. Same highly-driven, cocky, sarcastic martial arts genius. Same keen observation of the vissitudes of the world, and same soft heart that breaks at how little is done about it. Same issue with heroes as the saviours of the world. Same grandiose plan to make the world safe through terror. Same love of speechifying. The difference lies in what happened.

If I were going to put a finger on the most important difference in how things turned out, I'd put it on the issue of softness. Even if you reject all performances of toxic masculinity, as a young man, it's impossible not to internalise some of its poison. Garou is a soft guy -- and he's ashamed of his softness. When he feels he's being soft, he sees it as weakness and lashes out. Even before Saitama points this out on the battlefield in the WC, we see Garou feel that weakness and choose to lash out by trying to kill Saitama when the latter lets him off for dashing-and-dining. It's a good thing he picked Saitama, no? However, even there, there is a difference: WC!Garou is more focused on the opportunity to hunt a hero, while Manga!Garou is stung by his feeling pathetic at being pitied by even a no-name hero.

Fascinating, the change between hunting and murder attempt

In the WC, ONE doesn't make further use of this afterwards, but he comes to revisit the issue in the manga, in the aftermath of Garou accidentally saving several people and Saitama pointing out that he has a hero's instincts. While Saitama taunted Garou a bit in the webcomic so the latter would give him everything he had, it's nothing compared to the relentlessness with which Saitama keeps pressing Garou's buttons, and that combination made everything much worse.

Garou spells it out for us," I can't let myself forget this anger… not until the entirety of humanity has been made to suffer the same pain and despair I did!" Recalling the people thanking him, he thinks, "It was that simple to make my preparation and resolve waver. That's how pathetic I was…and it fucking pisses me off!" It's that incident that opened the door to how differently things went.

This is it: the point where Manga!Garou resolves to really do evil rather than Evil Lite.

Manga!Garou isn't the only guy to act this way. Even within the same arc, we see two heroes, Flashy Flash and Superalloy Darkshine, also lash out when they feel their egoes threatened. ONE shows how weak, destructive, and self-defeating this is. Fortunately, they tried hitting beings who could hit them back harder. Good!

They both had it coming: let's hope that they eventually improve themselves.

Unfortunately, what usually happens is that a bloke looking to lash out to assuage his internal feelings of weakness meets people he can punch down on, and BOY HOWDY DID GAROU PUNCH DOWN. Besides being literally poison to anyone around, his refusal to leave came from his dark joy at finally being able to provoke the fear and panic he'd hoped to from his mere presence. He targeted and murdered Genos, not just because he wanted to provoke Saitama into showing him all he had, but because he figured (correctly) that this would hurt Saitama as no punch he cared to throw could. And God, did he want to wipe that stupid smile off that bald guy's face.

It is very important to note that WC!Garou also met "God", but all he got out of the deal was a fancier outfit that Saitama quickly punched off him. It's the toxic determination to cause pain that marks the difference with Manga!Garou.

At the end of the day, His Yeastiness is a facilitator, not a controller.

It appalls a lot of readers to think that the lovely Garou, whom we so want to admire and root for as the underdog, can also be the same Garou who is so ugly, but it's the truth: all people are capable of all things.

We can well look some askance at Saitama for taunting Garou to do his worst rather than just beating him down and giving him a good talking-to, but the responsibility for his actions all lies on Garou. Say what you like about Garou, but you can never accuse him of riding on others' coattails: he has slapped away every hand proffered to him, so for him to recognise his limits and humble himself to ask Saitama for help is a huge credit to his strength of character and courage. He taught Saitama how to travel back in time to stop him from making the same mistake, and bravely persisted even though it cost him his life.

The manga explores what Garou could be much more thoroughly than the WC does (this is not a criticism of the WC -- I'll come back to that later), showing us both the heights of how noble he can be and the depths of how toxic he can also be.

Farewell, noble prince.

Who cares? By this, I don't mean this as a slight to the reader, but rather as a way of noting that the comparison is incomplete without also considering who cares about Garou in each version. WC!Garou is really alone. Yes, Bang goes out to stop him, and, notably, the old man finds himself moved to sorrow rather than rage when Garou is finally stopped by Saitama. However, as of yet, there has been no further meeting nor reconciliation between the two.

The contrast with Manga!Bang is fascinating. While Manga!Bang is no angel (indeed, we learn that he is a deeply selfish man… learn? We kinda knew that), he really does give up everything (the regard he enjoyed as a martial artist, his dojo, and his hero career) in an attempt, not to subdue Garou, but to bring him back to the good side, the same way his elder brother did for him so many decades ago. You need a heart of stone not to be moved by his acknowledging how he has failed as a master and all but begging Garou for a chance to start over.

When Garou runs away at the end of the night, Manga!Bang goes to find him and persuades him to turn himself in. When Garou's parents refuse to come and pick up their son -- as an 18-year-old, Garou is a minor -- Manga!Bang steps in as his guardian, goes with him to the police to answer for the one outstanding crime (the dine-and-dashing), accompanies him to apologise to the heroes he hunted, and is very present in Garou's life. Even if I'm giving Bang's tough love regimen the side-eye, the way that Manga!Garou hasn't been abandoned unloved into the world to fend for himself is a welcome development. It's interesting to see some of Bang's former students who left because they didn't trust that Bang would not favour Garou even though the latter beat them up, have started to come back to see if the old man really has changed.

What really matters If you will forgive my diverging a second, one of the fun things ONE comes to frequently is that we don't know what will make us happy. In chapter 85 (86 in print), the panel of Fubuki staring agog at the sight of several heroes stuffed in Saitama's tiny apartment, with Bang, Bomb, and Genos all tending their wounds, really stands out to me. Not 24 hours ago, there is no way Genos would have been comfortable enough to start repairing himself with the other heroes around: this point marked his no longer being 'the weird new guy' and rather being 'one of the guys'. If you had told Genos that he was looking for acceptance, he'd say you were talking nonsense, and yet, acceptance is one of the things he's looking for, even though he doesn't know it.

Garou isn't looking for acceptance, but he is looking to be seen and appreciated. Even as he grumbles about being made to clean the dojo and go to court-mandated jobs, Manga!Garou really is happy to be doing something to build the dojo back up. Just as importantly, working day-by-day to build up rather than tear down has brought WC!Garou a sense of peace and perspective. His work ethic and strength being appreciated can't not have an effect on him, even if he isn't cracking a smile when complimented.

Even if he's being either sarcastic or glum, Garou contributing something valuable and being appreciated for it really is something he was searching for.

What about next time? Finally, I'll point out the differences in what's facing them. Because Saitama solved his internal problems by pointing out that he was a frustrated hero at heart, WC!Garou's ongoing problems are largely external. He's an outlaw who needs a way to be rehabilitated into society. I'm hoping that the Neo Heroes affair offers Garou a way to redeem himself and get outstanding charges dropped. Working under the table, unable to get full working benefits, go to school, own a house and the like on account of unspent criminal convictions gets old fast.

Persisting and building despite all the fools harassing him, WC!Garou is developing some maturity fast.

Manga!Garou has not had to critically examine his beliefs yet, so he's not convinced he's wrong. What he does know is that he absolutely does not want to become a monster and that hunting heroes is a stupid idea. There's an internal struggle that needs to be finished here. He also has external problems: Bang's very helpfulness in getting so many charges against him dropped, means that there are going to be a lot of people out there in the story who feel he hasn't been punished enough. It is going to be exacerbated by the fact that Bang plans to introduce him to the Hero Association as a new hero, and Sicchi fully intends to parachute him into Class S despite knowing that all hell will break loose among the heroes. I don't think Garou's yet been told of this plan -- expect fireworks.

At the moment, Garou's ongoing ambitions are being treated as a joke. But like most things OPM, it won't be a damn bit funny when it comes up again.

B: Out-Of-Story

The art of constraint The differences in the space and time available to the manga and the webcomic really do matter. Just as you can say the same thing in a short poem, a short story, and a novel, the form of the art creates both restrictions and opportunities in how ideas are explored and expressed.

I think ONE is using both the super-compact storytelling of the webcomic and the more expansive saga of the manga well, but they create different possibilities. The webcomic is compact, and interestingly, ONE has usually preferred to focus on the characters sequentially: when it's a character's turn to get their fish fried, we see their fish thoroughly scaled, gutted, filleted, dredged in flour, fried to a crisp and served with a garnish. Their problems are pulled out, they face their crisis, it gets resolved with Saitama's help, and they're kicked out into the cold to make room for the next character. We don't mind seeing them again, but they've had their anagnorisis, they've had their peripeteia, they've had their denouement, and all they have to do is go and implement what they've learned. It's very satisfying, very compact.

However, the manga has a lot more space -- it's after all, the paid jobs of ONE, the workaholic artist Murata, Murata's assistants, and the staff at Shueisha -- and so, it's got more bandwidth. The manga tends to do character development in parallel: we see a lot of characters facing challenges and developing in tandem. Very little needs to be finished at a given time, and so ONE is happy to leave characters with further work still to do.

WC!Garou got his answer all neatly tied up. He was in a position to swallow that bitter pill, and so when we see him, he's working out how to live and has renounced his old beliefs. Manga!Garou has not had any neat answers. On the one hand, it's less satisfying to us as readers, but on the other hand, it gives Manga!Garou much more scope to develop over time to become someone WC!Garou can't imagine being.

Swings and roundabouts: ONE does not believe in giving characters what they haven't worked for, and so where there's less space for characters to work things out, there's also limits to what can be explored. However, he doesn't shortchange the webcomic characters: they get the right amount of development for the space in the webcomic.

No nuclear-powered truths for Garou in the manga; instead, a deliberately more open observation that leaves him more to work out.

A colder world Without a doubt, I'd rather live in the webcomic version of the OPM universe than the manga one. For a given timepoint, the manga universe is so much more dangerous it's not even funny. However, if you ask most readers, without thinking, they'd say the webcomic is the darker place. It isn't, but what it is, is bleaker feeling. A major part of that is that there is less interaction between characters. Not a lot less, just sufficiently less to start to matter, and that compounds. I'm not going to belabour this point: I've already written about it elsewhere.

Since one of ONE's wheelhouses is that we need others in order to be fully ourselves, with even the negative interactions having value, the webcomic becomes an increasingly bleak reflection of the manga for the characters, as we see how many opportunities they've lost. And I'm sure that part of the reason WC!Garou appears so subdued is that he's having to face the reality that he really is all alone in the world -- and he's got no one to blame but himself. It's funny, even when we say that we don't give a fuck about others, we sure hope that at least a few others will give a fuck about us.

If you want me to sum up where they are in their respective stories, WC!Garou has hit rock bottom and is rebuilding his life one brick at a time, while Manga!Garou has been spared hitting rock bottom (for now: the rock bottom he was heading for was 100% fatal). The latter's day of reckoning is yet to come but come it surely will.

Summary

In short, chaos theory rules here: small changes to initial conditions lead to large changes in outcome, all while being quasi-deterministic. I think both are good explorations of the character in context.

#OPM #meta #long #from webcomic to manga #Garou

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deliciousdefendorinternet · 3 months

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the films message it tries to push with Velvet and Veneer feels very Hypocritical in my opinion given it pushes the exact opposite message with Branch and his Brothers.

in my opinion Velvet is no worse a sibling than Bro zone are she's a Jerk for sure but it isn't exactly abusive they're both bad people only Difference is Veneer is less psychotic and confident than she is but he wasn't living in fear of her nor is her treatment of him that bad its not exactly healthy but it also isn't one sided either.

I find John Dory and Bruce to be more abusive in the emotional sense given what they did to Branch could straight up be considered Gaslighting chumming up to him getting him to let his guard down around them by showering him with sudden attention and affection in a way not too dissimilar to love bombing.

only to later Drop him at the first sign of inconvenience and make out like his feelings are invalid and he's acting immature for having them in a very cruel way.

which both JD and Bruce are guilty of doing tbh the film writers don't seem to understand what are and aren't healthy family Dynamics considering they considered Velvet and Veneer toxic enough.

that he should be seen as a victim of hers and should cut her loose but they think Bro zones Behaviour is Redeemable and that they are less toxic because they let their victim Bail them out of trouble its kinda worrying as a message for a kids film.

basically seems like it may be telling kids that their abusive home lives aren't that bad and they should always stick by their family member and give them chance after chance no matter how many times they let them down or treat them badly.

so yeah the films message tries to have its cake and eat it too it tries to push a seemingly positive message about not having to put up with mistreatment just because someone is family.

but on the other hand in literally pushes Branch to forgive his Brothers in the end for far worse Treatment because Family Trumps everything no matter how crappy they've been your whole life.

aaaaand I'm Ranting again sorry but this film does not bring out healthy emotions in me for very personal reasons 😕😕😕😕

#trolls #trolls branch #trolls dreamworks #dreamworks trolls #trolls brozone #brozone #branch trolls #branch #trolls band together #trolls 3 #Trolls #Trolls Branch #Trolls Bro zone #Trolls Brozone #Trolls Band Together

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aliypop · 4 months

Text

Help Me Make It Through The Night

Word Count: 1.383

Writers Note: An angsty fic with the help of @sissylittlefeather

Warning: Mentions of a heart attack

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Summary: August 16th, 1977 all is right at Graceland until suddenly things go a bit arye.

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

Memphis, Tennessee, August 16th, 1977

"You sure you don't need anything, honey?" Elvis asked as Cecelia sat on the red velvet and gold couch, "Not right now, but thank you for asking." She looked up from her typewriter, "Alright. Well, I'll be upstairs." He said, wobbling up the stairs. Cecelia was worried about her husband. Lately, he'd been having more medications added by Nick, and his weight was increasing. Her and Marys's homecooked meals were to blame just a little. "Hey, Daddy, I have a date tonight with Stella, so... Can I go!" Elaine asked. She was sixteen now, but in his eyes, she was still six,

"Fine, but remember..."

"I know, I know, no hanky panky." She laughed as he kissed her forehead, "Hey, daddy, you okay?" Elvis gave her a nod as he kept walking towards his bedroom,

"Alright, well, Jessie's still at the studio with Carla,"

"So then, I told Carla I'd buy her a promise ring." Cecelia chuckled, hearing her son talk as she was typing away at another business proposition for Paradise Records, "Mama, are you listenin."

"Of course I am." She hummed, still typing away. Her son kept talking as she saw how in young love he was, "Well, you can go in my jewelry box and get my old promise ring.

"You mean the one that..."

"Mhmm." She smiled. Jessie ran upstairs and heard a thud from his parent's room. Elvis clutching his heart, a tight, breathing feeling in his chest. He was stumbling around for medicine, but he couldn't reach it. Elvis tried to call for help, but his voice was stuck in his throat. He remembered he was lying on the red floor of his bedroom.

"MAMA!!!!"

"MAMA!!! QUICK, SOMETHING HAPPENED TO DADDY!!!"Jessie and Elaine were standing there, Jessie on the phone calling an ambulance. Cecelia ran upstairs to see the commotion, as her heart dropped inside her stomach, and her mouth was dry. This couldn't be happening right now, watching the EMS workers come and take her husband's body away to the hospital,

"Mrs. Presley, you need to meet us at the hospital..."

"Kids, call your grandparents and tell them to meet us at the hospital." Her voice was as cold as her mother's the night her father died. The twins nodded as they tried not to panic. Elaine could see the sorrow in her mother's eyes as she tried not to hope for the worst.

"1...2...3... Clear!"

"He's flatlining!"

"1...2...3... Clear!

Elaine and Jessie were lying on their grandparents' shoulders as Jerry and Midge tried to comfort Cecelia, "I NEED TO BE IN THERE WITH HIM!" Cecelia shouted, her eyes puffy and her cheeks red from rough tissues, "You need to breathe, Elvis is going to be okay. He always is when these things happen." Midge said as Cecelia growled,

" I HAVE ALMOST LOST ELVIS 3 TIMES MIDGE, 3, MY HEART CAN'T FUCKING TAKE THIS!" She sobbed on her shoulder as Jerry hugged her, "I can't lose him... I'm not ready to... He's the only thing I got, Lord..." she sniffled,

"Mrs. Presley..." The doctor said as Cecelia cleaned herself up and walked towards him,

"Yes, sir..." She followed him as Vernon and Denise prayed for her.

"How is he..."

"Things aren't looking good if we don't start operating on him,"

"Wh-Wha-What do you mean operate..."

"Well, there's a bowl blockage and-"

"Do whatever you need to do." She began to shake worse than Elvis would before a concert, "If there's anything we can do for you, Mrs. Presley, please let us know."

"Just save my husband, please...." The doctor nodded, walking away,

"Well..."

"He needs a few procedures, but he'll be okay." She smiled as Vernon and Denise hugged her. The rest of the day was spent at the hospital. Midge and Jerry left first, then it was Vernon, then Denise and the kids, who didn't want to go until they knew Cecelia was okay, but there she was waiting until they said.

"Mrs. Presley, you can see him.

Walking in, she saw his boylike features asleep on the hospital bed. He was hooked up to different machines, but she didn't care. He was here on this side with her, and she was happy,

"He's going to sleep for the rest of the night, maybe even tomorrow. You're welcome to -"

"I'll stay." Cecelia smiled, sitting in the rocking chair. The TV was on, and it was The Jeffersons, "Look, Elvis, it's almost like we're home." She smiled, watching his stomach rise and fall. Soon, the TV played the national anthem, and it faded into static until the next day, but no matter how hard she tried to sleep, she couldn't. Cecelia had to look over him to make sure he was still breathing, so she'd pace around the room, talk to the twins, then she'd pray and talk to God, then pray again.

"Elvis... I know you probably can't hear me, but.." She took a deep breath, "I love you, and you're my guardian angel. You are my everything, and I'll never forget that night back in 54, or our wedding day, or every day with you. Just promise me you'll pull through this." She looked at him as his lips were curled in a smile.

Memphis Tennessee August 17th

"I will spend my whole life through, loving you, just loving you." Elvis's eyes opened slowly. As he heard her singing, his arms wrapped around her tighter as she kept singing. "There is only one for me, and you know who you. I'll always be loving you..." Cecelia looked up as she heard him singing with her,

"ELVIS!!!"She kissed him softly as he kissed her back, "Where am I?"

"The hospital, you had a heart attack and a few other things, but you're alive and-"

"Little darlin, you've been cryin'... and you didn't sleep, did you?" He asked,

"El...I couldn't sleep, but you looked like you got caught up on the best sleep you've ever had." She laughed a little as he nodded,

"Would'a been better with you in my arms." He mentioned as she slithered under the sheet in the small bed with him.

"You mean like this?"

"Mhmm." He kissed her forehead. He could feel her falling asleep as he hummed Cotton Candy Land.

"IS DADDY U-" Elaine and Jessie bumrushed the bed. They had teddy bears and bears in their arms as he tried to shush them,

"Are you okay! Are you coming home soon?"Jessie asked,

"Do you feel funny?" Elaine asked. Elvis tried to respond as they kept asking questions.

"I'm fine, your mama's sleepin, but I'm fine..."

"The doctors said to stay in bed. And to start a better diet and less stress and-" Elvis kissed her. He was back home with his now sexy doctor, Cecelia. "I'll heal then I-I-I finish my concert an-" Cecelia glared at him as he gulped,

"You are not touring until you're healthy,"

"But The Colonel?"

"Fired..." Looking at her manicure, Elvis laughed,

"So, who's my manager now..."

"Good morning, Mr. Presley. Welcome to the Valmos sound label." Denise walked in as Elvis smiled, extending his arms out to his mother-in-law as she came to hug him,

"Your Mama?"

" Yes."

"How's my Elvis feeling?" Denise kissed his forehead,

"Gotta lay off the soul food for a while, but I'm alive." He sighed. Playfully, as Cecelia nudged him,

"Good, you could manage to trim those sideburns too and a bit of the belly fat," Denise commented,

"And that's the Mama I know." He mumbled, watching her walk away. Cecelia then got under the covers with her husband as she held him tighter than usual. But he understood why, tears on his back as she was inhaling the scent of his robe,

"Baby..."

"Hmm..." She sniffled,

"You okay?" Elvis asked, turning to face her, his blue eyes still vibrant,

"I thought I lost you this time..."

"Baby..."

"Please promise me, no more pills, no more stress, and you'll take better care of yourself?"

"I promise." He kissed her forehead,

"Good..."

CRASH!!!!

"OH SHIT, I THINK I JUST HIT DADDY'S LINCOLN!" Elaine shouted as Elvis turned to look at his wife,

"Well, so long for stress..." Cecelia laughed,

"My Licoln is in the garage."

"DAMN IT ELAINE MARIE LOVE PRESLEY!!!!"

#fanfiction #oc #new stuff #new #romance #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis fanfic #elvis x poc #the Memphis mafia #oc x canon #cecelia valmos #70s elvis #Spotify

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