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sugarandspisces-writes · 10 months

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Damage Control

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: You get into an argument with your parents and it brings up some tough emotions. Melissa helps you work through those feelings and thinks of a unique way to help you cope.

Word Count: 8k

A/N - Hi! I want to start off by saying that this fic is purely self-indulgent. I wanted to write something for those that don’t have the support of their loved ones in regard to their sexuality. If you’re currently going through this situation, I hope you can find a piece of comfort in this fic. My main goal with this one is to make you feel less alone. I hope you all enjoy <3

TW - Contains themes of homophobia and depicts interactions with unaccepting parents

It was a Saturday evening, and you found yourself at Melissa’s house. Over the past couple months, it became a ritual for you to spend the weekends with her. You found this was the only time you could enjoy her company due to the demands of the week. Things had been rough for her at school, but she was finally getting used to teaching two grades. She had more free time now, and you jumped at the opportunity to spend it with her.

You were currently sitting on the couch in the comfort of her arms. She was lying with her back against the arm of the couch, and you were sitting in her lap in the same position. Your back was against her front, and her arms were wrapped around your waist. Your head was settled on the left side of her chest, and you could hear the faint sound of her heartbeat.

It was a gloomy day and you didn’t plan on doing much. You originally wanted to spend the day out and about, but due to the weather, you changed your mind. You mutually decided that you would much rather have a lazy day in. You finished eating dinner not too long ago and you were now watching TV.

You recommended Melissa to start Killing Eve a while ago, but she never got around to it. You were glad about that because now you were able to watch it together. You were only on the first season, which you’d seen multiple times, so your attention was being pulled in another direction.

You turned slightly in her arms so that you were facing her. Her hair was up and her face was rid of makeup, so every feature was on display. She was absolutely stunning and you wished you could see her like this more. Your eyes roved over her face until they landed on the slope of her neck. You leaned in and placed a few kisses at the junction of her neck and shoulder. You watched her cheeks become pink from your actions. Her lips twitched as she tried to fight a smile and you couldn’t help but let your lips curve into a grin at the sight. You realized you were staring and tried to look away before she noticed, but you knew you’d been caught when she spoke.

“The TV is over there, you know.” She nodded her head in the direction of the entertainment.

“I know that, Melissa,” you laughed. “I just enjoy looking at you more.”

“Someone’s being very charming today,” she said before turning her head towards you.

You locked eyes momentarily and the twinkle in her green orbs was almost too much for you to handle. You couldn’t think when she looked at you like that. You shied away from her gaze before letting out a chuckle.

“Do you like the show so far?” You asked after gathering your thoughts.

“Yeah, it’s good. I thought there would be a little more action though.”

“Oh, trust me, it’s coming. I think the next episode is the one where Villanelle shows up at Eve’s house.” You said while reaching for your phone that was resting on the coffee table.

You heard Melissa groan and you realized that your movement shifted her out of her comfy spot. You gave her an apologetic look before turning your phone on. As you looked through your notifications, you saw that you had a missed call from your dad. The two of you usually called each other every weekend, mainly in the mornings. He didn’t call you this morning, so you thought he’d get to it tomorrow. It was strange for him to call you at this time, but you just assumed he missed you extra and didn’t want the call to wait.

“You can call him back if you need to,” Melissa said, knowing how much you looked forward to catching up with him.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna,” you sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the couch. “It must be important if he’s calling this late.”

“Go ahead. I need to get up and stretch anyways.” She patted the side of your leg, signaling you to stand.

“Be right back,” you said before leaning over to kiss her lips.

✦ ✦ ✦

You made your way into the kitchen and sat at the table in a seat near the entryway. You pressed the missed call notification and held the phone up to your ear. You listened to three sequences of ringing before someone picked up.

“Hello?”

You brought your phone down and looked at the screen in confusion. It wasn’t uncommon for her to answer your dad’s calls if he wasn’t in immediate reach of his phone. It still caught you off guard.

“Hey, mom. I was just calling Dad back.” You said in hopes that she would pass him the phone as quickly as possible.

You loved your mother, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with her right now. You were in a good mood, and you knew she was bound to change that if you continued to speak with her.

“Now, don’t sound too eager to talk to me,” she said.

You knew she was being sarcastic, but she did have a point. Even though you weren’t in the mood, you were still curious about her well-being.

“How are you?” You asked.

“I’m just trying to enjoy the day, but the weather has been acting crazy.”

Are we seriously talking about the weather right now? You thought to yourself.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded to yourself. “I was gonna go out today, but those plans got squashed.”

“Oh, honey, I’m glad you realized you need to get out more,” she said. “All you do is go to work, then go home. You need to have a little fun here and there.”

While her comment sounded like she meant well, you knew there was an air of judgment in what she was trying to say.

“I know, mom. You tell me all the time.” You let out a sigh.

“Yeah, well, every time I call you’re always at home.”

“You just happen to call me when I’m at home.” You rolled your eyes.

“You just happen to be at home every time I call you? I find that hard to belie–”

“Mom, where’s Dad?” You asked, trying not to sound too fed up.

“He’s upstairs. He’ll be down soon,” she said. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

You could almost hear the cogs turning in her head as she thought of the reasons why you wanted to get off the phone with her. You pulled your phone away to see that you’d only been on the phone with her for a little over a minute. Why did it feel like the two of you had been talking for ages? You could feel yourself getting a headache already.

“You can change the subject all you want, but I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt you to get out more.” She said in a tone that you couldn’t quite place, but you knew that it rubbed you the wrong way.

Before you could speak, you heard her say, “Here’s your father.”

You had never been so thankful to talk to your dad in your life.

“Hey, kiddo.” Your dad said. “What’s up?”

“Hey, I was just calling you back. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Why?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged even though he couldn’t see. “You usually call me earlier in the day.”

“Is it a crime for me to be spontaneous?” He asked. “Haven’t you heard the phrase, “Expect the unexpected?”

You could hear the smile in his voice and you couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“It is a crime, considering you’re the most calculated man I know.”

Your parents were very type A, and they always followed some sort of schedule. They liked things to be a certain way, and they were always organized. Despite what it seemed like, they knew how to have fun – especially your dad. However, there were times when they could be stuck in their ways, and that’s why you often butt heads.

“Okay, maybe that’s true.” He laughed. “I just missed you, is all.”

“I miss you too.” You smiled to yourself.

Your heart warmed at his words. Your conversations were so much different than the ones between you and your mom.

“What are you up to?” Your dad asked, bringing the conversation back to you.

“Nothing much. I was watching TV when you called.”

You could hear your mom in the background making a remark about you not getting out of the house. For some reason, she couldn’t let it go today.

“Dad, can you put me on speaker?”

“Okay, you’re on speaker.” He confirmed.

You laughed at him before addressing your mom. “Mom, you know I can hear you in the back, right?”

“All I’m trying to say is that the men aren’t gonna meet themselves.” She said bluntly.

You let out a dry laugh. Of course, that’s what this is about. She’d wanted to say it all along, but she liked to bet around the bush for some reason.

“Mom, men aren’t the key to life. I’m fully capable of doing everything a man could do for me by myself.”

She laughed, and you could almost see the shake of her head that came with the action. “Of course, you would say that.”

“Honey.” You could hear your dad say to your mom in a warning tone.

“No, it’s okay.” Clearly, there was a deeper meaning to her words. “What’s that supposed to mean, Mom?”

It was silent on the other end of the line as you waited for an answer.

“I think your mother is just trying to say–”

“Dad, I wanna hear it from her. What’s that supposed to mean, Mom?” You repeated.

You could feel yourself becoming more defensive as the seconds went on.

“I’m not surprised you would say something like that. With you being the way you… are and whatnot.” She couldn’t even bring herself to say the words.

“The way I am? Wh–What are you trying to say?” You asked, but you knew exactly what she was alluding to.

You weren’t solely attracted to men, and that dissatisfied your mother more than anything. You knew it bothered your dad too; the only difference was that he wasn’t so brash about it. You had hope that he might come to terms with it in the future. Your mother, on the other hand, was a different story.

✦ ✦ ✦

Melissa was sitting on the couch as she waited for you to finish your conversation. For the past ten minutes, she had busied herself with looking at the pictures hanging on her walls. She couldn’t remember the last time she really looked at them. She had been so busy at work trying to keep up with two classes that she didn’t notice how long it had been since she took a proper pause. This was the first time in about three weeks that she was able to keep her head above the water.

It was also the first weekend that she had been able to fully enjoy in a while. When she realized she would have some free time, her first thought was that she wanted to spend it with you. It was very unlike her to want to spend her spare time with anyone, but there was something special about you. You made her feel at peace, and she craved having you around at all times.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard your voice coming from the kitchen. The sound was muffled from where she was standing, so she couldn’t make out what you were saying. Nonetheless, you sounded like you were in distress. She debated whether or not to go check on you. She knew you were capable of handling your own problems, but she still wanted to make sure that you were okay. She reasoned with herself and made her way over to the entrance of her kitchen.

She didn’t walk in yet out of fear that she might be interrupting something. Your relationship was still kind of new, and she didn’t want to seem like she was butting into your business. From outside the doorway, she could hear another woman’s voice. She assumed this was your mom.

She heard the tail end of the conversation, and she was a little stunned, to say the least. She knew about your weekly catch-ups with your dad, and she had been there to overhear some of them. To her, your parents didn’t seem like the type of people to participate in an argument with you. In her opinion, that was more her family’s style. However, she knew that it was presumptuous of her to assume such a thing without much context. She continued to listen to the conversation, curious to hear what would be said next.

✦ ✦ ✦

“You know what I’m saying, Y/N!” Your mother said, raising her voice.

You knew you’d struck a nerve. She wasn’t at her yelling point, but she was getting close. If she wanted to play that game though, you would play. If there was one thing the two of you were good at, it was yelling at each other.

“I like women, Mom! So what?” You raised your voice back.

“So what?” She said in disbelief, as if she couldn’t fathom what you were saying. “It’s wrong, Y/N. That’s what!”

“Says who? You?” You yelled at her. You didn’t mean to, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t gonna sit there and listen to her talk about right and wrong as if she was a saint.

“Do not raise your voice at me.” Your mom said sternly.

You knew you were in the wrong at the moment, but you weren’t going to apologize. She was still your mom, but if she wasn’t going to respect you, you weren’t going to respect her.

“A little support would be nice every now and then, you know.” You said.

“I support you plenty. Or do you not remember me and your father loaning you money a couple of weeks ago?” She pointed out. “Did that slip your mind somehow?” She said in a condescending tone.

“That’s not what I mean!” You said in frustration.

Your mother thought that monetary support was equal to emotional support. In her mind, if you had all of your needs met, emotions didn’t have to be part of the picture.

“You did it to yourself, Y/N. If you didn’t make the choice–”

At those words, you lost it.

“It’s not a choice, Mom! I didn’t choose anything! It’s just who I am!” You shouted through the phone. Tears began to prick your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but they fell anyway.

You stood from your seat and walked around the table. You could feel yourself getting angry, and you didn’t know how that would end, so you tried to calm down before your emotions got out of hand.

“That’s not who you are!” She yelled back. “I didn’t raise you to be like that. Your father–”

“No, Mom, it's not who you are!” You interrupted her. You reigned your tears in and gained control of your voice. You wanted her to hear your next statements loud and clear. “Not everything is about you! And Dad can speak for himself.”

Since you came out to your parents, your mom had a hard time separating her identity from yours. She couldn’t bear the fact that you weren’t straight. To her, you were flawed, and she felt like she had done something wrong raising you. What she failed to see was that your identity had nothing to do with her. It was only about you.

“I’m not talking about this with you anymore,” she said.

You saw that one coming. Once you began talking about her image, she shut down. When it came to slander, she could dish it, but she couldn’t take it.

“Fine.” You said, and that was the end of that.

You plopped down in the chair and took a few deep breaths before speaking again.

“Dad,” you said, “are you still on the phone?”

Your dad had been silent the whole time. Not because he didn’t care, but because he knew better than to get in the middle of your and your mom's spats. He meant well, but sometimes you wish he would give his input. Confrontation wasn’t his strong suit though, so you knew it might be a while before you ever heard his side of things.

“Yeah, I’m here, kiddo.” He sounded dejected. “I’m sorry.”

He hadn’t meant for the phone call to go south.

“You don’t have to apologize for her.”

“Yeah, but I know she’ll probably never say it,” he said, sounding defeated for you.

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”

You talked with him for a few minutes longer before saying goodnight and ending the call. This was not the direction you expected the night to go in, but like your dad said, you should learn to expect the unexpected.

✦ ✦ ✦

Moments later, you found yourself still sitting at the kitchen table. Your mother’s words rang in your head as you tried to process everything. As you continued to think about the things she said, you felt your frustration resurface. The feeling had only intensified since then, and you began to feel red-hot anger creeping its way up your chest. It settled at the base of your neck and as a result, you felt suffocated. You couldn’t help but let out a scream at the sensation.

“Fuck!” You shouted before slamming your phone down onto the wooden surface of the table.

The sound must have startled Melissa because she appeared before you.

“You okay?” Melissa asked as she kneeled in front of you. She had a frown on her face as she tried to decipher the expression on yours.

You were embarrassed at your sudden outburst and the fact that she’d heard the conversation with your parents. You were also feeling a little helpless because your emotions were manifesting themselves and you had virtually no idea how to handle them.

You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You could feel Melissa running her hand along your back and that brought you down enough to muster out a reply.

“Yeah,” you said in a flat tone. You meant to be more convincing, but it didn’t quite work.

“You know, you can tell me if you’re not okay.” She said, continuing to rub your back.

You cleared your throat and shook your head as if you were trying to reset your brain to 30 minutes ago: when you were peacefully lying in your girlfriend’s arms and not having thoughts of taking your mother’s neck in your hands and–

“Hon,” Melissa said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm,” you hummed before looking at her again.

You soon came to realize that was a big mistake. Suddenly everything was too much. Too real. How close she was to you, the look in her eyes, the hand on your back. You needed her to move, but you couldn’t vocalize that.

“What can I do?” She asked.

“Um, I don’t, I–,” You stumbled over your words.

You reached around to your back so you could grab her hand. She mistook the gesture as you seeking more comfort. She clasped her hand around yours and that gave you the push you needed to speak up.

“I don’t know, but you need to move.” You snatched your hand away as if her touch burned you.

She looked a little shocked, but she moved away as fast as her body allowed her to. Once she was gone, you realized how harsh you’d sounded and you instantly felt bad. She was just trying to help, and here you were snapping at her.

“I’m sorry. I just– I’m really hot and I can’t–” You stood up and started to frantically fan yourself.

Melissa continued to look at you. She was trying to figure out what her next move would be. She’d never seen you like this, and she wanted to handle this situation correctly. As soon as she realized that staring at you wasn’t going to help, she jumped into action.

“That’s okay. How about we start by taking this off.” She stepped closer to you before realizing she should probably warn you. She wanted to avoid your previous reaction at all costs. “I’m just gonna come closer, but I’m not gonna touch you.”

You couldn’t even focus on what she was saying because you were about two seconds away from freaking out again. You could only make out every other word, but it was enough for you to piece her sentences together. You nodded your head to show that it was okay for her to come closer.

Why the fuck am I so hot? You thought to yourself.

“I just wanna get your jacket off.” She said.

Jacket? What jacket?

As you watched her reach toward you, you looked down to see that you were wearing the hoodie Melissa let you borrow earlier. You were so scatterbrained that you didn’t realize you still had it on.

She grasped the zipper on the garment before pulling it down, causing the sleeves to fall off your shoulders. Once the item was off, you felt so much better and your thoughts started to become more clear. You sat back down and let out a sigh of relief as you leaned forward, resting your palms on your knees. You looked down at the ground in an attempt to focus your attention on something other than the anger and shame you were feeling.

“That feel any better?” Melissa inquired.

You thought about her question for a second. You felt better because you weren’t burning up anymore. However, you could still feel the remnants of ire in the pit of your chest.

“A little, but I feel like,” you paused. “Like I,” you trailed off before giving up.

Melissa reached out to gently grasp your jaw. She tilted your face upward so you could look at her. Her palm felt cool against your warm skin.

“Like what?” She looked at you intently.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged before removing your face from her hold.

It wasn’t a secret that you experienced emotions deeply. You felt more than the average person, and you were very in tune with other people. You were the definition of an empath, and it was a gift as well as a curse. You cared for others, but the weight of harboring their emotions in addition to your own was too much to handle at times.

You were also prone to burying your feelings. That’s where your difficulties with communication stemmed from. When you were hurting you kept it to yourself, and that made it harder for you to navigate situations like this. When you had a chance to express your feelings, you weren’t always sure how to convey them to others.

Melissa pulled up a chair and set it directly in front of you. To be honest, you were taken aback by the action. You fully expected her to leave you alone until you could figure out an answer to her question. As you looked at her, you saw through all the concern and found there was determination in her eyes. She wanted to figure out what was going on inside your head, and she wasn’t going to give up until she got an explanation.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling physically?” She reached out to grab your hand, finding it hard not to show her affection. “Just one thing.”

“Um, kinda like I might… explode.” You looked toward her in hopes of receiving some form of validation, and without fail she gave it to you.

“Okay.” She nodded her head and began to stroke the back of your hand with her thumb. “Anything else?”

“My heart is beating really fast and I feel tense. Like, all over.” You took your free hand and motioned it in a circle around you.

“That doesn’t sound like a nice feeling,” she spoke softly.

To you, her tone seemed uncharacteristically gentle. It was unlike anything you’d ever heard from the redhead.

“What do you usually do when you feel like this?” Her eyes never strayed from yours.

“Nothing really.” You looked at her sheepishly. “I usually just push it away or try to focus on something else.”

The lost look in your eyes pulled at Melissa’s heartstrings. She could see the trouble you were having processing your emotions, and all she wanted to do was help you. She had an idea, but she wasn’t sure how you’d receive it. However, she knew it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Are you willing to try somethin’ for me, hon?” She bit her lip as she anticipated your response.

“Sure.” You were willing to try just about anything if it would make you feel better.

“Okay, give me just a sec.” She held up her index finger, then proceeded to walk out of the kitchen.

Melissa soon returned with something interesting in her hands: a baseball bat. You looked at her with curiosity as she came to stand before you.

“Come on.” She nodded her head toward the back door. “Let’s go outside for a minute.”

You followed her into the yard, where she walked you to a secluded corner. As she moved a few items around to create some space, you noticed her backyard was very homey. There was a couch decorated with pillows and blankets and it was placed near a fire pit. There was also a garden located on the opposite end.

Above you, there were string lights that were activated by the two of you stepping outside. They lit up the yard with a warm glow and you began to find comfort in the cozy atmosphere. She had a fence built well above your height that surrounded the area, and it made you feel completely safe.

When she was finished rearranging, Melissa came to stand across from you. “When I get upset, I take this and use it to do as much damage as I can.” She presented the bat to you.

You tried not to think too much into her statement, but you couldn’t help raising your eyebrows.

“I promise everything I’ve done was legal,” she said after seeing your reaction. “Well, mostly.”

“Melissa!” Your eyes widened at the thought of her committing crimes with the object.

“I’m kidding, hon,” she assuaged your fears. “I don’t have anything for you to hit, but I think the ground will do just fine.” She tapped with her foot, illustrating its firm nature.

You still felt unsure of what to do.

“You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to,” she assured you. She didn’t want to talk you into doing anything that made you feel uncomfortable. “We can always figure something else out, but I think this might help you release some of those emotions.”

If she thought it would help, what was the harm in testing out her theory?

“Okay, I’ll try.”

You reached your hands out to accept the bat from her. She handed it over, then stepped closer to the house to give you some space. You stood there for a second, those feelings of uncertainty coming back to you. You felt out of your element as you twisted the bat around.

You took a couple breaths before holding it up by the handle. Your arms lifted above you before swiftly coming down to slam the head of the bat against the ground.

Sightly alarmed by the loud crack that echoed around the space, you looked toward Melissa and let out a gasp. She was standing against the fence with arms folded across her chest.

“How’d that feel?” She looked at you expectantly.

“Good.” You nodded. “I wonder what your neighbors are gonna think.”

“Don’t worry about that.” She began to walk toward you. “If they have a problem I’ll handle it.”

You must have still looked suspicious because she spoke again.

“You just focus on letting those feelings go.” She squeezed your shoulder affectionately before taking a seat on the couch. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You stood there for a moment gathering your thoughts. The only thing Melissa cared about was making you feel better. She could care less about anyone else at the moment. With that in mind, you felt completely safe to express yourself however you needed to. She just wanted to be there to make sure you were safe. Your heart warmed at the thought, and your anger nearly dissipated.

Now all you could focus on was how much she cared about you and your emotional well-being. She looked after you so intently. No one had ever taken the time to truly listen to you and help you combat your insufferable burdens. That thought settled deep within you causing a twinge to flutter through your chest. The ache was so profound you felt it in every fiber of your being.

You closed your eyes and took another deep breath before smashing the bat into the grass for the second time. You repeated the action until you began to lose count of how many times you’d struck the ground.

All you could think about were the feelings your mom had brought up and the pain associated with them. When you couldn’t think about that anymore, you thought about every time you wanted to express an emotion, but couldn’t. When you’d exhausted that thought, you just focused on how free you felt at the moment. With each hit, you could feel yourself letting go of the pain you’d held onto for so long.

Then, something broke within you. You slammed the ground one last time, your body sagging forward from the force. You felt your chest heave as a guttural sound escaped your throat, and you let out a final breath in its wake.

The metallic bat dropped to the ground with a clang and you used every last bit of your strength to stand up straight. You filled your lungs with air and on the exhale, you felt a sob bubble in your throat. Your hands flew to your mouth to muffle the sound, but it was too late. You had already released an echoing wail into the open. Surrendering every part of the anguish, you let the sobs wrack your body. It was getting harder to breathe, but you didn’t care, really.

“Y/N.” She was gentle as not to startle you.

Upon opening your eyes, you were met with a worried look. She was maintaining her distance just in case you were feeling overwhelmed, but by the look in her eyes, you could see that she just wanted to comfort you. You pulled her closer and once the gap was closed, she brought her hands up to wipe your eyes. She gently held your face in her palms as you continued to weep.

“You didn’t mention that I would cry my eyes out,” you joked. It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but your delivery was pathetic. You were all choked up, trying your best to talk through broken sobs. “A warning would have been nice.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Melissa said in a hushed tone. It almost sounded like she was fighting back her own tears. But you knew she hadn’t gone that soft on you— yet.

You were pulled into a hug, her arms wrapping firmly around your torso. You hugged back, arms hanging loosely around her neck, then brought your head down to rest on her shoulder. She pulled you closer before placing a kiss on your forehead. The action was so delicate that it caused a surge of fresh tears to fill your eyes.

Melissa could feel your chest quavering with each breath you took, so she gave you some encouragement. “Let it out, hon.”

You shook your head and released a whimper instead. You’d cried enough and there was no need to do it all over her. However, you should have known that wasn’t going to satisfy her. Your pain didn’t serve you any purpose, and she refused to let it weigh you down.

“Come on, love.” She murmured into your ear, voice so velvety you couldn’t help but give in. “There you go,” she praised as your cries got heavier.

You collapsed into her arms and let your body go slack against hers. She staggered backward, not expecting you to fall into her like that, but regained her footing and held you steady.

“I’m here, okay? I’ve got you.”

For a moment, all you could focus on was her. She rubbed large circles across your back and you nestled closer into the curve of her neck. Her scent invaded your senses; something spicy, sweet, and clothed in warmth. You could feel yourself calming down with each breath you took.

“That’s it. Just breathe.” She instructed.

She began to sway your body from side to side. The motion was so soothing that you felt your eyelids getting heavy. If she kept it up, you were sure you’d fall asleep. You willed yourself to stay awake so you could relish in the safety she was providing.

“You doing okay?” She asked after she was sure your sobs had ceased.

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

It wasn’t the best response, but Melissa took your even breaths and lack of tears as a sign that you had settled down.

She began to unwrap her arms from around you, but you weren’t ready. You held on tighter, which was physically impossible considering you were already as close as you could get.

She held you a little longer before deciding to ask for permission this time. “Is it okay if I let go?”

She hadn’t given you any indication that she was leaving, but a piece of you was afraid that you might not find that level of comfort again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, sensing your hesitation. “I just wanna get you back inside.”

You obliged and she maintained her proximity by holding you by the waist. The gesture was tender and affectionate, and she kept her word leaving no room for doubts in your mind.

✦ ✦ ✦

“You gonna be okay by yourself for a second?” Melissa asked as you sat in the living room.

“I’ll be okay,” you rasped.

“Okay, sit tight,” Melissa said before venturing off.

You were grateful for her tenderness, and it was the first time you were seeing this side of her. Of course, she was always gentle with you, but something was different tonight. She was being so patient and loving—it made your heart feel so full.

She returned with a glass of water and took a seat next to you. You gladly accepted the beverage and found yourself nearly downing it in one gulp. The cool liquid felt nice on your sore throat. You set the cup down on the coffee table and let out a deep sigh. A familiar sting pricked your eyes, but you refused to do any more of that right now.

You could see Melissa watching you out of the corner of your eye. She was trying to be discreet, but even if you couldn’t see her, you’d be able to feel the intensity of her stare. You weren’t sure what she was trying to communicate to you, so you redirected your gaze.

She smiled at you, her lips gently curling, as she brought a hand over to rest on your thigh. You placed your hand over hers and began to play with her fingers. She had a singular ring on the middle one and you twisted it around to distract yourself.

She pulled you out of your head by locking your fingers together. You looked back up at her and she opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. Her eyebrows were knit together and she had a pensive look on her face. She looked like she was going through a mental tug-of-war.

You watched as she dropped your hand and changed her position so she was leaning against the arm rest. She waved her hand, motioning for you to come join her. You took your place in her arms and laid on top of her, tucking your head under her chin and settling in. You took a hand and rested it on her stomach, feeling it move up and down with each breath she took.

You closed your eyes as she placed a kiss to the crown of your head. She repeated the action before moving her lips lower and doing the same near your hairline. She slipped her hand underneath the fabric of your shirt and began to lightly trace her nails against your back. That had to be one of your favorite sensations, and you could feel yourself melting deeper into her touch. She was almost lulling you into a trance.

“Your mom seemed pretty upset earlier, hm?” She asked, switching the pattern she was making on your back.

Melissa knew what she was doing. She wanted to get you as relaxed as possible so that you could talk about the events that led to this moment. She knew it would be hard for you to get worked up if she was holding you close, giving you kisses, and rubbing your back. It was the gentlest form of persuasion.

“Yeah.” Your voice cracked as your thoughts wandered back to the conversation. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I guess you could say so.”

Not missing the hitch in your voice, she encouraged you to take a deep breath. Once she was pleased with your effort, she formulated her next response.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She didn’t want to upset you again.

“No, it’s okay.” You assured her. “I just don’t understand.”

Melissa waited for you to elaborate, but when you didn’t, she prompted you. “You don’t understand what, babe?” She asked, moving back a couple of inches so she could look at you properly.

“I’ve spent the majority of my life–” A lump made its way up your throat. You swallowed it down, determined not to let your emotions get the better of you. “I’ve spent the majority of my life trying to be perfect for her. I’ve done absolutely everything I could to please her.”

Melissa nodded her head in understanding as you peered up at her.

“I made good grades in school and I did all the extracurriculars. I went to college, navigated everything the way she advised me to. I sacrificed so much of my happiness to make sure she was content. It worked for a long time, you know? She was happy.”

“And because of that you were happy,” Melissa stated.

She knew how you were. People pleasing was part of your character. It was hard for you to grasp the idea that you wouldn’t be able to satisfy everyone. No matter what, there would always be someone who didn’t agree with you.

You nodded, taking a breath before continuing, “That all changed when I came out to her though. I mean, I knew what her reaction would be, but I wanted to take some of my power back from her. I had quite literally burnt myself out trying to do right by her.” You took a beat before saying, “I just felt like I wasn’t my own person anymore and that kind of scared me.”

Melissa moved a hand up to your cheek, as she continued to look at you. Her thumb smoothed across the side of your face and your eyes fell closed at the feeling. You hadn’t even noticed the lone tear escaping your eye until she swiped it away.

“So, I told her.” You laughed wryly. “I wasn’t even sure what my labels were at the time. I’m honestly still not, but I just knew that I wasn’t straight. I just felt so compelled to let her know that she didn’t have a say in every aspect of my life.”

“I’m proud of you for making that decision. That must have been really hard.” Melissa empathized with you.

Her sage eyes were glassy as she listened to you tell your story. Hearing about your relationship with your mother allowed her to gain a deeper understanding of your habits. She’d wondered why you were such a perfectionist, why you cared so much about what people thought of you, why it was hard for you to say no sometimes.

“Oh, it was a nightmare.” You looked off to the side as you recounted the day. “I told her right before I went off to college. I told my dad too. She didn’t speak to me for months. I think that’s part of the reason why me and my dad got so close.”

“How did your dad take it?” Melissa asked.

“Better than her. He wasn’t jumping for joy, but he was respectful of me. He understands that it’s not up to him to pick my life partner.” You looked back at her before saying, “That’s all I asked of them. To respect me. He just happened to be the one who could comply with my wishes.”

“There’s always that one person,” Melissa sighs. She didn’t know your mom personally, so she wouldn’t bash her. Not to your face at least. Instead, she opted to give you a piece of wisdom. “You can’t please everyone, hon.”

“I know.” You sighed, matching her tone. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. My dad can do it, so why can’t she?”

You looked at Melissa with sorrowful eyes. You could feel your resolve starting to crumble and that ache in your chest returned. “Why can’t she just love me how I am?”

You were directing the question at her but unfortunately, she didn’t have an explanation. She tried to compose an answer, but her words wouldn’t come. The way you looked at her made her brain lapse. She tried to think of something quickly because she couldn’t take the site of that sullen look. However, she didn’t have anything to say, and that was rare. Her lack of words generated a response from you, and it wasn’t one she was expecting.

“No matter how hard I try, nothing I do will ever be enough for her.” Your lips crumpled as the words left your mouth. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

“Oh, honey. Come here.” She closed the small space between you by pulling you into her chest.

You cried, but it was mild in comparison to your previous round of tears. “I just don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either,” she said, resuming her gentle back scratches, “but let me tell you something.” She pulled your chin up so you were level with her eyes. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

“There must be. Why else would she–”

“You are passionate, hardworking, and so damn smart. You always make me smile, and you are a joy to be around.” Melissa said with conviction.

“You are perfect just the way you are. Do you hear me? When you began to shy away from her words, she pulled your attention back to her. “I’m not sure what your mother sees when she looks at you, but I see a wonderful person who is kind and caring. You have a beautiful personality and a heart that is too pure for this world.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, hon. Why would I say that if I didn’t mean it?”

You could only shrug at her question.

“No, don’t give me that. Talk to me,” she urged.

You could tell she genuinely wanted to hear your thoughts because she had that determined look on her face again. How could you possibly say no to that?

“I know you mean it. It’s not that.”

“What is it, then?”

“I don’t get to feel validated very often,” you disclosed. “So it’s just nice to hear those words.”

“I meant every single thing.” She punctuated her words with a nod.

“I know, Lissa. Thank you.” You smiled at her. “For everything you’ve done for me tonight.”

You leaned forward to wrap her in a hug one last time. You hoped you could convey every ounce of thanks into the embrace. She’d done more for you in a few hours than you could have ever asked.

“You’re welcome. But you don’t need to thank me. It’s what I’m here for.” She hugged you back with just as much enthusiasm, if not more. “I’ll always be here to listen to you and validate you anytime you need it.”

You pulled back from the hug just enough to see her face, and you leaned in to kiss her lips. It was delicate and sweet, but full of passion. You tangled your hand into auburn locks so you could keep her near as you exchanged a few more pecks. She pulled away and pressed a final kiss to your temple.

You ended the day the same way you started it: wrapped up on the couch enjoying each other’s presence. In that moment, you realized you’d found something special with her. In the midst of chaos, she had the ability to bring you back to center. She put things into perspective, and helped you see the bigger picture.

Sure, you wanted your mom to come around, but you couldn’t make her. That was something she would have to do on her own timing—you couldn’t force it upon her. Whether or not she would come to accept you was a mystery. However, what you did know was that Melissa would always be in your corner and that was more than enough for you.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #sugarᥫ᭡writes

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oftidheard · 4 months

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hi! i saw you wanted holiday themed requests so i was wondering if you could write something fluffy about either sejanus or treech where their gf is feeling kind of insecure bc she thinks she doesn't deserve christmas gifts (maybe because she was a victor and she thinks shes a bad person bc she had to kill people in the games) and they reassure her? <3 i love ur writing btw!

thank you!!! ♡♡ i went with treech because about half of my other seasonal requests are for sejanus + this is my first time writing for treech and i'm very excited! warnings: a few mentions of vomit, descriptions of reader's ptsd from the games (dead bodies, murder, gore) this has a bit of a heavy moment, but i promise it's a very happy ending

"just look up, please." treech x reader ↳ 2.7k ↳ angst to fluff ↳ gender neutral

treech's grip on your hand is horribly unwavering as he guides the two of you up the — what would normally be perfectly easy for you to traverse, but in your overtiredness the steepness might as well be perfectly vertical — hill. you aren't exactly playing this game of tug-of-war fairly, with the way you're all but dropping to the ground as dead weight that you hope your boyfriend will finally stop trying to drag along; but in your defence, you don't think it was very fair of him to drag you out of bed on christmas eve the moment the clock struck over to christmas day with no explanation.

he's lucky you feel this innate safeness around him, because if it had been anyone but treech shaking — albeit very gently, he's not entirely horrible — you awake in the assumed safety of your house, in the middle of the night, you would have erupted into screams and stabbed him with the nearest sharp object you could get your hands on.

instead, you'd just stirred and groaned when your eyes had fluttered open to the face of your grinning boyfriend looming over you, and not even had the energy to protest his undisclosed plan.

by the time you'd gained your footing — metaphorically, mentally, absolutely not physically, if your sleepy stumbling is anything to go by — you'd already made footfall on the base of the hill he's leading you up, and he's grown too determined to let you roll down miserably by now.

you've had a pit making home in your stomach since the beginning of december, and though you'd be fooling yourself to think you'd been perfectly alright before then, treech unsubtly trying to find out what gift you might want for the holidays has been the sickening reminder of the month approaching — the one which brings happiness you simply don't deserve.

you'd told him you want nothing, which he'd thought was some sort of joke the first time, and then he had only grown concerned when it remained your answer.

you know you don't deserve something like a christmas present; it's as simple as that. someone like you — a monster, a killer, a murderer, a victor — doesn't deserve neatly wrapped boxes under trees and heartwarming traditions. you deserve to rot in your bed long enough that your persistent boyfriend finally gets the message that you can't be 'saved'.

you fight against whatever treech's plan is — because deep down, you know it's going to be a gift, you don't know how yet, you don't know why he's leading you up a hill you didn't even know existed — but you know at the end of it there'll be something wrapped with a shining bow so pure you can already feel the vomit rising in your throat.

so just like you'd rejected well-wishes and invites to festive events all month, you fight.

you slow your steps and imagine your shoes are coated in heavy mud, weighing you down so deep that the earth opens up to swallow you — which, with how tired you are, the feeling isn't too hard to imagine.

you slump and let your eyes close absently, your tactic really just consisting of forcing treech to try to carry you up the hill on his own — and getting to go back home when he inevitably gives up.

but still, you feel his hand tugging on yours, and a, "come on!" that is way too enthusiastic for someone who woke up in the middle of your night and decided to make it your problem.

you groan when he somehow keeps making — albeit much slower, but still noticeable — progress in dragging you up the hill. the tired ache running through every one of your bones cries out for your warm bed, and you almost audibly tell your sore body to shut up!, because surely your body of all things trudging up this stupid hill, should be well aware that you are also begging to just collapse.

it occurs to you, just as the thought pops into your mind, that it might not be such a bad idea — so, naturally, you don't hesitate to entirely relax your muscles, and relish in the silence of no longer hearing the complaints of your body as you fully flop to the ground.

the sound of a surprised "woah" is just about as important to you as the feeling of your knees impacting with the dirt beneath you; which is to say, almost not at all — as long as the dirt plans to cooperate with you and provide a comfortable bed — until you realise treech had been so clung onto you that when you fell he fell too.

he loses his footing swiftly following you, and tumbles down on top of you with a thud paired with your low whining.

his chest sandwiches you to the ground, and even though the weight of your boyfriend awkwardly on top of you feels like a pretty sure sign that there won't be any more progress on making it up this hill, you're hesitant to just about declare this a win.

you wriggle your hands up to cushion your face against the sparse grass and whatever else you can't see in this light, and mumble a, "goodnight," after a moment of waiting that tells you treech has given up on regaining his footing.

or so you thought.

it's probably your fault, your small victorious declaration is probably what spurred him on to push off of you and dig his shoes back into the hill — and you cry out when he pulls your hands from under your face, and your cheek falls to the dirt.

you're not even sure what you're muttering as he lifts you up with an admirable strength — that which's persistence you'd probably appreciate, as you do most things about your boyfriend, if he weren't currently using it against you. but even once he's picked you up off the ground and beginning to move upwards again, you keep gloomily complaining under your breath.

treech's hand's grip on your own tightens, and the sickness in your stomach coils.

you wish you had the energy to do anything but make a fool of yourself like a toddler who didn't get their way. you wish you could make him understand that this is far more than grumpiness from some sort of lack of beauty sleep, and that the overwhelmingly dark cloud that looms over you is more than just trivial grouchiness.

maybe the worst part is that in some corner of your mind, you know he knows this; you know he even tries to understand how you feel.

and now, he's failing that endeavour, all to push you past your limit for something you could never want — not anymore.

he looks over his shoulder at you, and you can tell he's trying to withhold a smile. whether this is for your sake or because he thinks he's kept his plan a secret and doesn't want to spoil it is anyone's guess — but you're just about ready to tell him to just smile.

he should be happy right now, he should grin and laugh and find joy in holding your hand — because when you reach wherever he's taking you, you'll either blow up in his face, or deflate and suck all the air out of the world. either way, you'll ruin the mood, and he'll realise whatever his hard work led to was for nothing when you shove the gift in his chest and fail to withhold the vomit growing inside you.

"c'mon!" he encourages you, with a softer voice than you'd have expected. helplessly — and ever so weakly — you find yourself pliable to his request, and attempt to catch up to him before you even realise what you're doing.

he's quick to tuck you into his side, his arm finding a secure hold around your shoulder, and letting you drop your head to rest on his own.

you accept the embrace quietly, folding against him with all your weight now his to hold upright, in a silent admission that now that you are so far from home, you'd much rather be as close to him as possible than out in the dark — scared, alone, mind suddenly stuck back in the arena.

you resign yourself to the light-headedness of dissociating from any risk of even a single thought, and letting your muscle memory take the wheel; ghosting up the hill with dreary eyes and yawns gone unheard to your ears so deeply submerged in the miserable inky water you drown in.

after your aching legs get into the rhythm of matching treech's footsteps, you have no idea how long it takes for him to finally stop the both of you.

though your hear the occasional "almost there" echoing through the caverns of your mind, and barely register the feeling of the wind growing colder against your skin not long after, you let yourself slowly fall into the dark pit that awaits your just before you fall asleep every night.

your muscles grow heavy and footsteps fumbled just as the two of you finally still, and lower to sit on something rough and uncomfortable.

you think you might hear treech whispering to you, trying to get your attention, but you refuse to delve out of the darkness to even try to catch his words.

even as he pulls your side flush against his and his arm drifts down to wrap warmly around your waist — you will your eyes to remain screwed shut.

you remind yourself; sleep grants you peace, dreamless nights grant you the warm hug of nothingness that has become a welcome friend after nightmares of corpses and waking days riddled with reminders of the blood on your hands. sleep keeps the sinking feeling at bay, sleep drifts you so far out into the empty void that you can forget, even when you don't deserve to.

treech's body, adorned in a fluffy sweater and wrapped around yours, would be a welcome feeling if it didn't remind you of the hearts that no longer beat on the arena floor, of the bodies no longer warm by your hand.

sleep doesn't make you throw up your blood and guts and very soul until you have paid enough of your organs to all the throats you slit and all those lives lost to deserve forgiveness.

his head gently pushes against yours in an attempt to draw you out. his breath unknowingly brushes against your pulse point.

you think of the scrawny body facedown on the ground and your desperate scramble to check their pulse. you couldn't bring your shaky hands to flip them over, and from the clothes alone you had no chance at figuring out which of your fellow tributes was gone.

in your dreams, it's a different person every time. sometimes it's the district two girl who almost cracked your skull open, sometimes it's the two siblings from six laid side by side. sometimes it's one of the peacekeepers using their last breath to take your own. sometimes it's treech.

and sometimes it's you, your own lifeless eyes inhabiting a cold, dead body.

the tickle of a soft sensation on your face suddenly draws you out, and your eyes involuntarily flutter open to find your boyfriend's face so close to yours that the tips of his curls brush against your skin.

you want to close your eyes again and pretend his efforts hadn't been successful, but his breath along with the strong wind fans across your eyelids just uncomfortably enough that you have to readjust your position and begrudgingly open them.

you shuffle further into treech's hold, and try hide your face in the crook of his neck, but get disrupted by his contrary movements, forcing you to stop hiding.

he whispers your name, and repeats what you realise he's been saying this whole time, "just look up, please."

this makes you frown, and the only thing that gives you enough motivation to finally give into his pleading, is the fact that there's still no wrapped present in your hands — a sign, you desperately hope, that he heeded your wishes — and it makes you more amiable.

you finally lift your head, and meet his gaze, still with questioning downturned brows — but his eyes light up as if you're looking at him with the brightest smile he's ever seen, and he nods his head ahead of the two of you.

you reluctantly follow his gaze towards the night sky, blinking away the blurriness and adjusting to the darkness.

then, as you face more light than you'd expected, your breath hitches.

above you, like a piece of art that any canvas painting hung in the capitol could never even dream to compare to, there dances strokes of greens and pinks lighting up the night sky.

your eyes widen, begging to see the entirety of the sight and wishing to never forget it, even the sudden cold wind blowing through your slack jaw is a distant concern in the face of this.

the bright greens swirl through the deep blue of the sky, trailing from behind distant mountains until it drifts above you, and you feel the urge to jump from your seat and run your fingers through the tendrils.

as your eyes notice the dusts of pink shadowing the strong greens, you realise — further inside your chest — there is a calmness that has overcome you, a deep tranquillity that has slowed down your heartbeat and run something lighter than blood through your veins. if treech weren't holding you down, you're certain you'd float away until you joined the clouds above — and you'd let it happen.

minutes pass as the lights swallow you whole, eyes reflecting the colours and a sparkling joy you haven't felt since long before your life was ruined.

even as centuries pass in silence, the lights continue to dance for you, and you don't even realise you're grinning widely until you turn to your boyfriend, and his own smile only grows stronger at the sight of yours.

you can barely force your question out through inaudible wonder, as you simply ask, "how?"

you recognise the twinkle in his eyes as the same sensation fluttering through your chest and pumping your heart.

"it happens every year," he explains, your gaze back on the sky, but a warmth peering into the side of your face hinting that his eyes may be fixated on something else.

"always past the curfew, so no one's really dumb enough to sneak out to see it."

you're not sure if it's from the slight humour in his comment, or the euphoric feeling that's overcome your entire being, but you find yourself throwing your head back and laughing — something you might as well have forgotten how to do after so long. and it might have even hurt your throat after months of being out of practice, but you don't notice — nor do you very much care.

"but we are?" you joke, and feel your heart swell when his laugh joins yours with an amused nod.

minutes pass again, and still the colours don't fade. you wonder if you've somehow found yourselves trapped in a time capsule where you can never leave this moment — you find yourself hoping so.

you follow a tendril of pink and the softest purple on the outskirts of the lights, and smile when treech's hand finds yours to lead you both closer to the edge of the hill, where you feel even closer to the view.

"do you like it?" he whispers, and you let out a breathy laugh before you can even overthink your every reaction like you've taught yourself to. you don't even have to remind yourself that you're safe here, that while enveloped by love and the same magic that caresses the leaves of trees that reach the clouds, you're free — because you feel it, in every breath and every nerve-ending that comes alive when your boyfriend's face snuggles against the side of yours.

you nod.

you wobble on your feet as you simultaneously try to embrace treech and try to keep your eyes on the sky, and through giddy giggles, you whisper, "merry christmas," and you mean it.

a/n: the lights are specifically aurora borealis/the northern lights! incase anyone might not be familiar with them ♡♡

this also happens much more frequently than once a year in real life, but i imagined either treech simply doesn't really know that, or due to some sort of crisis that happened that might have led to the hunger games universe as we know it, the earth's atmosphere might has been affected, thus maybe making the occurrence a bit different/not as common ♡

#treech x reader #treech tbosas x reader #tbosas treech x reader #treech thg x reader #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x y/n #thg x reader #tbosbas x reader #❤︎ — the mockingjay sings

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flower-boi16 · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel Is A Show That Exists

So...after five years of waiting, Hazbin Hotel is finally out. I had very low expectations going to Hazbin - not only because of the current state of Helluva Boss (Its spin-off show) but also because of all the things I was hearing about it from people who saw the leaks - needless to say, it wasn't very positive. I was expecting this show to be a complete disaster on every single level, though deep down, I did want to be excited for this show - as I did used to briefly be a fan of Viv's work until I realized HB's MANY writing issues, so I went in with low expectations, expecting the show to be awful while deep down hoping that MAYBE It'll MAYBE end up being good. And after watching the first four episodes I can say that...

The show isn't awful nor is it that good. It's just...PAINFULLY average. In this post I'm going to give my current thoughts on HH based on the first four episodes that are currently released. Note that these are only my current thoughts on the show - there's a chance that MAYBE the show will improve in the second half of season 1. But for now, here are my current thoughts on the show:

1. The Animation & Visuals

The animation is...fine. The characters definitely look very rigged at times, but the animation is at least pleasant to look at. An issue I have is the camera work - sometimes the camera work can be VERY off at times. The show would constantly cut to different perspectives in some of the scenes and it becomes a headache to look at. It's especially bad at the beginning of the Happy Day In Hell song - where the camera looks like it's having a stroke during the sequence as it constantly cuts to different perspectives a LOT.

That being said - the camera work is mostly fine throughout the rest of the show so it's not too bad. So overall, the animation looks fine. I don't love it, but I don't hate it.

2. The Comedy

The show's comedy is...actually pretty ok. There were a few jokes that got a good laugh out of me, especially in episode 3, the episode that isn't written by Viv, so it therefore is the funniest episode of the show so far. I am surprised by the lack of sex jokes in the show which is at least a plus. That being said, a lot of the jokes in the show don't really land - mainly the ones that Angel Dust makes. So really, the comedy is OK. I don't hate it, but I also don't love it either.

3. Worldbuilding & Plot

So now let's talk about the main plot of the show as well as its world-building. Ok so the main conflict for the show is that due to someone killing an Angel during the last extermination - the exterminations are going to happen twice as fast now (6 months instead of one year). The mystery of what happened to the angel...lasts for about two episodes before we're given an answer in episode 3, and then it's just resolved like that.

Aside from that the series mostly revolves around its premise so far which is good. Alright, now lets talk about the lore and worldbuilding - basically Lucifer used to be an angel in Hevean but was seen as a trouble maker and Adam demanded that Lilith fuck him (or something Idk Idr) and Lucifer and Lilith fell in love blah blah blah Lucifer gave an apple to his new lover Eve blah blah blah the apple was cursed blah blah blah the apple created hell blah blah blah It sent evil to the world and Hevean was pissed about that so they banished them to hell blah blah blah Lucifer became sad blah blah blah Lilith didn't blah blah blah Hevean started doing exterminations because they were afraid of Hell's power.

(Semi-accurate description of the opening exposition dump). Ok so a few things; 1) I already asked this in another post but why did Hell never choose to fight back against Heaven when Heaven shouldn't have any power over hell because Hell was a realm created by Lucifer? Also, why does Heaven even have any power over Hell to begin with? and 2) So Heaven is eeeevil now and is going to kill all of Hell. Like I already said, it would have been more interesting if Heaven wasn't evil, and it also would've been better than this Hevean v Hell war we're probably going to get in the finale.

They even changed the reasoning to why Heaven started doing the exterminations, instead of it being because of an overpopulation problem now it's because Heaven was afraid of Hell's power...

...which contradicts the pilot which is canon to the series. But then the show just goes back to the overpopulation problem as the reason for the exterminations???? Like??? Which is it, is it because Heaven is evil or because of an overpopulation problem??? PICK ONE!!!

Hell is also kinda boring of a setting, it's just our world except red. That's it. So the lore and worldbuilding is kinda eh, Heaven is just evil cuz ofc it is and the lore has some problems. Its funny to how one of the lyrics of Adam's big villain song is "its all black and white", and since Adam is the bad guy and Charlie's goal is to redeem sinners, the show is trying to go for a "it's NOT black and white" message, but that's kinda ironic considering that this Heaven/Hell conflict is very black and white in it of itself; Hell good Heaven evil. That's it. Not saying black-and-white conflicts with a good guy and a bad guy are bad, most shows can make them work and be interesting, but Heaven would have been more interesting if it wasn't evil, at least IMO.

4. The Voice Actors

A lot of the discourse surrounding Hazbin until its release was the new voice actors. Let me just say I don't dislike the voice actors here; I think they are fine and they fit the characters decently well. Their singing is also decent as well. So I don't dislike any of the voices, they are fine for the most part and fit decently well with the characters.

5. The Songs

The songs so far are...fine. If there was one thing that HB consistently got right, it was the songs. Even if I dislike HB, the songs are actually pretty good (for the most part...). Hazbin's songs are...decent. There aren't any songs that I can say are bad, though I have some issues with the show's music; mainly the fact that the show sometimes shoves in songs...for the sake of having a song.

If you want to make a musical with songs you need to make sure each song has a distinct purpose for the story; take "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid. Before this song, it's pretty easy to infer that Ariel has an interest in the surface world - with her collecting human stuff and all. But the song further shows us her desire to see the surface - to see what it's like above water. It shows her desire to see the surface in the form of a song - it has a purpose within the story because it tells you something about the character.

Hazbin Hotel meanwhile sometimes has a problem when it comes to shoving in songs for the sake of meeting the song quota; the two biggest examples are "Hell is Forever" and "Respectless", as well as "Whatever It Takes". These songs are all completely unnecessary and they give us information that could have been communicated through simple dialogue rather than characters bursting out singing.

"Respectless" in particular feels less like a song and more like the characters just...singing a conversation with each other. The song is completely unnecessary and is just there to fill the song quota per episode. None of the songs I've mentioned are necessarily bad, but they suffer from being unneeded (HB also sometimes has this problem in season 2 mainly in episodes 3, 4, and 7).

Aside from that issue - the songs are...fine. None of them are bad but some of them are kinda useless and don't serve much of a purpose. I at least liked Happy Day in Hell and Poison, aside from that most of the songs are...ok. I just don't find most of them that memorable.

6. The Characters

Now, let's talk about the characters. First I'll talk about the main cast then the villains.

Charlie - I think Charlie's...fine. I always like overly positive and happy characters for protagonists so I was going to like Charlie anyway. She's fine; she's easy to root for and she's likable enough.

Vaggie - Vaggie's also fine. I do like her snark in episode 3, but aside from that there isn't much that interesting about her.

Nifty - Nifty's cute. Nifty's funny. I like Nifty.

Angel Dust - sigh Ok so I didn't like Angel Dust in episode 1 because of the fact he was another character whose one character trait is being excessively horny. And I also find all his jokes painfully unfunny. I'm not really in a position to judge how well his abuse from Val was handled so since I held a poll asking SA victim's thoughts on episode 4 and most of them voted no I'll just say that they didn't handle it very well and move on. So ya don't care for Angel Dust.

Alastor - Ah yes the creepy radio demon. He's also fine, I like his whole style and stuff.

Husk - Husk's whole purpose in the first three episodes is pretty much just to be pissed off at stuff, I kinda liked the scene where he talked to Angel Dust in episode 4 but aside from that, Husk is kinda just..fine...like everyone in this main cast.

Now let's talk about the villains so far!

Adam - Don't care for him. Sigh look Adam could be an entertaining villain but so far his dialogue and jokes are just painfully unfunny and I don't care for him as a villain. I could talk about his sidekick whose name I forgot but she's gotten so little screen time I can't form an opinion on her yet.

Also isn't it funny how HH was meant to be a female-focused show yet the males get more focus so far (As I've already talked about)? Ya, I thought so too. Anyways, the characters are...fine. I don't hate any of them, but I also don't really love any of them either. None of them are that interesting so far to me.

That's pretty much what I can say about everything in this show so far; I don't hate the animation but I don't love it either, I don't hate the comedy but I don't love it either, I don't hate the songs but I don't love them either, I don't hate any of the characters but I don't love them either.

7. Conclusion

So, that's my current thoughts on HH based on the first four episodes. Well...it's certainly a show that I watched. It's amazing to me how a show could be so consistently painfully average in pretty much EVERYTHING, from the animation to the songs to the comedy to the characters, to the episodes themselves, Hazbin Hotel is the most painfully average show I've watched so far. It's not bad so far, but it isn't good either. Again, maybe the show will improve when the latter half of season 1 comes out...

...or it will just get worse. I'm expecting the latter unfortunately due to the trailers making it look like there's going to be a Heaven/Hell war which means the show is probably going to abandon its premise like its spin-off (...that came before the main show was released). But ya, Hazbin Hotel is painfully average so far, probably a 6/10 so far, expecting the show to probably get worse, goodbye.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism

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aftgficrec · 5 months

Note

Fics where Neil gets in a fight and actually wins!! I know it’s more commonly said that he can start fights and not finish them but let’s be for real, the boy was raised by two mafias and is scary as hell (I think i’ve seen someone ask this a while ago but i’m not sure if there’s an updated list) Mainly wondering for like post-canon fics, but au’s are cool too!

There’s quite a bit to discover on this topic, be that AU or in the context of canon. Of course, Neil rarely comes out of these troubles unscathed, but he wouldn’t be Neil if there wasn’t also a little martyrdom involved. You might find more on this under our bamf!Neil, butcher!Neil and occasionally raven!Neil tags. Have a browse, and see if there’s anything you like. - S

Some previous recommendations:

BAMF!Neil here

BAMF!Neil 2 here

BAMF!Neil 3 here

BAMf!Andreil w/happy ending here

badass Neil here

Neil fights and wins here

A dark Neil here

Neil says it's fine i've had worse here

Neil protects Katelyn/the foxes/Andrew here

Foxes find out Neil's not soft here (see list of recs at top of post)

Neil hurts/kills in front of foxes here

new BAMF! or Raven!Neil here

dark!Neil & Andrew here

bad boy Neil here

Neil Josten: Moriyama spy here

Neil kills Nathan here

Killing Eve AU here

‘Skin Comes Apart (Angel in Lothian)’ here

‘Bound for Error’ here

‘turn out the lights’ here (completed)

‘From Dungeons’ here

‘Whiskey Sour’ here

‘Negotiations’ and ‘The Butcher's Hello’ here (updated)

‘Shake my Tomb’ and ‘Appendages’ here

‘The Butcher’s Son’ here

‘it takes two (but you and i are one)’ here

‘monster (under my bed)’ here

post-canon (more or less):

Out for Blood by Aquared46 [Rated M, 27975 words, complete, 2023, locked]

"Neil’s first thought upon opening his eyes was that he was lucky to be in the trunk of a car instead of the back of a van. His second thought was that even if he survived this, Andrew might finally give into the temptation to kill him." AKA Neil is abducted and everyone has a bad time.

tw: kidnapping, tw: torture, tw: nightmares

born for this by dovegraye [Rated G, 1278 words, complete, 2023]

There are some parts of Nathaniel Abram Wesninski that Neil Abram Josten can’t ignore and refuses to play at trying anymore. This is one of them.

tw: violence

My Lover Writes Me Letters by AceSirenSinger [Rated M, 23018 words, complete, 2023]

He feels it again – the fury, of Neil’s taunting precision, of his expertise honed specifically for Andrew. It makes Andrew furious. Andrew has not felt anything since he woke up with his head on fire, in a room with a man made of compressed violence. *** Andrew loses his memory of the last five years, and forgets Neil. Neil martyrs himself because of course he does.

**tw: threatened rape/noncon between major characters**, tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: blood/gore, tw: referenced animal cruelty and death, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: murder, tw: implied disordered eating

five times neil beat the babygirl allegations, plus the one time he didn't by r3mus [Rated T, 7488 words, complete, 2023]

neil will NEVER beat the babygirl allegations in MY heart but, alas, he would probably punch me if i called him babygirl to his face.

tw: violence

Damnation by X0X0HauntedX0X0 [Rated M, 15572 words, incomplete, last updated Jan. 2022]

Unkind and ever familiar, that anger Lola had triggered earlier returned with sharp teeth and without mercy. He would rip his time from their hands by force, like he’d been doing every day since he was born. Lola was clever as the devil, but Neil had been raised through the loopholes. She couldn’t hurt his Foxes if she was dead. Or Neil is much more dangerous than anyone gives him credit for.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: torture, tw: blood/gore, tw: alcohol, tw: drugs

NB: fic art of post-torture Neil by @kazzyboy here

Maybe a Mobster by definitely_not_loki [Rated M, 1558 words, complete, 2022]

Neil Josten had transferred at the beginning of this season, and sure he'd been a nightmare for the team, but not in the "I was raised by a serial killer" kind of way. He was hard on the team—way harder than anyone had been before—and he wasn't even the captain. He was just some rookie striker from South Carolina. Most of the time she forgot he was anything but a rookie striker, but then someone would ask about his scars or call him a different name. Those were the few moments she remembered he wasn't just an asshole. He was an asshole with a past. So when The Event happened, she was terrified, horrified beyond all reason, but she was not surprised. Or, Neil is a badass motherfucker.

tw: violence, tw: blood

Neil has some bad habits. by evelynreads23 [Not Rated, 1068 words, complete, 2022]

Neil learnt things when he was young, how to wield a knife, how to hide a body. He was doing good and not thinking about it until someone was telling him he was a fan of the butcher. He was in a haze afterwards and freaked when Jack was being an asshole. This is Neil going to his roots but staying Neil, protecting Andrew and the foxes and not having fun when his past is brought up. Read at your own risk! :)

tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: homophobia, tw: panic attacks

Dart Boards and Knife Fights by clumsylittlewriter [Rated T, 2983 words, complete, 2022]

"As if in sync, both of them dropped down into fighting stances and tensed their muscles. 'I apologize in advance if I end up killing you,' Nathaniel said, his voice dangerously quiet. Natalie threw her head back and released a sharp peal of laughter, more malicious than anything Andrew had ever heard from her. 'Don’t get cocky, Butcher-boy,' she taunted, her eyes glittering with vicious glee. The Butcher’s smile reappeared on his partner’s face." (a game of darts reminds Andrew that Neil was raised by someone fascinated with knives)

All the masks I've left behind by SagaEllen [Rated T, 1879 words, complete, 2021]

Neil does not cry. Aaron asks for help. And everything is such a mess.

tw: knives, tw: violence

all for his foxes by Olympyas [Not Rated, 2469 words, complete, 2021]

If he wanted to defend his family Neil wouldn't be enough, but someone else would, just this time, just for them. This is how Nathaniel opened the door and managed to stop the knife threw at him. And that was familiar, It even became a reflex by now. They taught him. Lola taught him in a way he wouldn't be able to forget. Lola and Romero come for Neil directly at Palmetto and Neil defends his family.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: blood, tw: knives

AU:

Dead Ringer by HalloweenReaper [Rated E, 18892 words, incomplete, last updated Nov. 2023]

“Potential.” Riko slammed Neil against the wall again and whirled on Kevin. Kevin stared back at him, white-faced and tense. “You said that goalkeeper had potential and then wrote him off as useless when I offered him to you....” - The Foxhole Court, Ch. 13. Nathaniel was given to Ichirou as his private hitman after his skills as a marksman were revealed when the Moriyama tracked him and his mother down after they ran away. Riko decided to surprise Kevin with matching “pets” after he found out the goalkeeper Kevin was interested in had a twin. When Nathaniel is ordered to join the Ravens for a year to cover for a series of hits, his smart mouth meets Andrew’s prickly attitude and things get interesting.

tw: abuse, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: animal abuse, tw: panic attacks

Different Roads by frankelled [Rated T, 33944 words, incomplete, last updated Oct. 2023]

Nathaniel became Ichirou's 2nd when he was 10 years old. To protect Nathaniel from becoming a target no one can know, which leaves him in the Nest. When Kevin's hand breaks Nathaniel is in charge of protecting him from Riko, but now in Palmetto

tw: violence, tw: injuries, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: panic attacks

Andrew's Regret by pandaseek [Not Rated, 13860 words, incomplete, last updated Oct. 2023]

“The first three were all former foster parents of Andrew.” Piggins continued, unable to take a hint from the frosty office he’d admitted these things too. “No.” Aaron panicked, staring at Andrew in disbelief. “Andrew has never been…!” Wymack shifted his weight on the filing cabinet, reaching down to grab his trash can and passing it across Andrew in time for Aaron to grab it and spew a cascade of vile liquid into it, while Andrew pushed his chair onto its back legs and avoided all eye contact with those in the cramped office. Andrew knew who did this. The only person who had ever willingly gone to bat for him. A person he had mistakenly believed to be dead long ago; this was proof to the contrary. Except… Except that there was one name missing. - A prompt from Justthislazy, based on my original Lifeline, that I just had to pick up and run with. Thank you for the amazing idea!

tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced csa

Promise, I Can Give You a Reason by maydaykevin [Rated T, 1689 words, complete, 2023]

Something else happens in the fated Millport locker room.

tw: violence

I'm An Accountant by boomba77 [Not Rated, 24101 words, incomplete, last updated Oct. 2023]

Abram Hatford is an accountant. A legitimate accountant. He may work for an infamous crime family, but his hands have been clean for years (of blood, at least). He is a translator and an accountant. He flies under the radar, his existence hidden from the public by his family, and he prefers it that way. For him, the words ‘safe’ and ‘unknown’ are synonymous. So, when one of the Hatford empire’s more lucrative businesses begins stirring up the wrong kind of attention and losing money as a result, the Hatfords require discretion and brains. Their elusive Abram is the only person for the job. Andrew Minyard is a part-time server at a random diner and a part-time bartender at The Den, where he spends most of his time drinking what he’s supposed to be serving. It isn’t until strange things start happening around the club that Andrew decides to pay a bit more attention to the shady shit going on at his work. And then, when a stranger shows up looking for work with a perfect resume and a symmetrical face, Andrew finds his suspicion, and his interest, double. All of the death and destruction is bad, sure, but at least it’s interesting. OR Waiting for death is not living.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: dissociation, tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: scars

Rheostat by NeilfuckingJosten [Rated M, 14315 words, incomplete, last updated Aug 2023]

Nathaniel Wesninski, alias Neil Josten is finally out of the Nest and into the world of professional exy. Deadly, smart and worse than his father, Nathaniel will bring a storm into Andrew's quiet world. AKA, they meet in the pro's.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced abuse

I Was Ruined From The Start by BrokenPineTree [Rated M, 39021 words, incomplete, last updated April 2023]

Neil’s grin is audible as he replies. "Riko’s antics getting outed to the public would make him a liability. And I do remember telling you that threats need to be dealt with accordingly." Kevin's stomach lurches into his throat with the conclusions he jumps to. "So, you’re gonna go back to the Nest?" He asks quietly. Slowly. Unsure how to feel about Neil putting himself in that situation again. He can't do that, right? He has other things to worry about now. Neil hums disapprovingly. "Try again," He offers. Kevin does. "You're... coming to Palmetto?" The au where Kevin doesn't have full confidence in Andrew's ability to stand between him and his lurking demons after only spending a few months at Palmetto. But with the dangerous card itching to emerge from under his sleeve, does he really need to?

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: panic attacks

True Crime by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 1789 words, complete, 2022]

All Andrew needed was the WiFi password.

tumblr posts:

Neil Does Not Like when people mess with his people. by @hmmm-shesucks [tumblr, 2023]

Whenever any of the foxes are slightly inconvenienced by someone enough to complain about them, Neil always asks, “Do you want me to take care of it?”

tw: implied/referenced violence

Neil gets in a fight by @hmmm-shesucks [tumblr, 2023]

Neil gets in a fight on the court and it’s one of those where gloves are dropped and helmets are thrown and the punches are quick and hard.

tw: blood, tw: violence

Neil is dangerous and Aaron knows it hc by @thefoxholestuff [tumblr, 2021]

I love the idea of Neil being the really dangerous one rather than Andrew and the Foxes all being Shook and Andrew being a gay disaster over it

Part 2 - an expansion

here’s an expansion of my Neil-is-dangerous-and-Aaron-knows-it post,

one night the foxes are at edens and some guy starts to harass Andrew hc by @zipperuser103 [tumblr, 2021]

I know that Neil “starts fights that he can’t finish”, but I refuse to believe that he has no fighting skills at all.

tw: violence

Art

bamf!Neil by @emry-stars-art

(Feat. BAMF? Assassin? Secret Agent? Neil) by @baylecn

Good boy, junior by @jayjuls

Killer In The Mirror by @allfortheslay25

Killing Eve AU by @rainbowd00dles

Wesninski looks good on you by @ouijacine

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the-meta-tron · 9 months

Text

Good Omens Theory: Matchbox Foreshadowing

Did anyone wonder why there was so much emphasis on this matchbox?

We know that it was later connected to Gabriel's disappearance since it's from The Resurrectionist in Edinburgh, and it's where he stored his fly from Beelzebub. The Resurrectionist, of course, was a double entendre to the body snatchers that were an essential part of Victorian medical research as well as Jesus himself. Knowing at the end of the season that Heaven is planning the Second Coming, all the references to the Resurrectionist seemed like some pretty basic foreshadowing. But I think it goes deeper than that.

THE QUOTE

Why is there a quote from the Book of Job on a matchbox from a place named after Jesus? Surely, there would have been other scripture that was more relevant to JC. No, instead we get this from the book of Job.

Job 41:19 Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out

Upon the first watch, the first thing that immediately sprung to mind when that quote floated on screen was the last time fiery sparks leaped out of someone's mouth in Heaven. Who did that again?

Oh yeah!

Crowley, wearing Aziraphale's face.

I've always wondered exactly what the relevance of this particular quote from the Book of Job meant. After all, references to The Book Of Job were everywhere in season 2. There are some excellent metas out there as to why Job is so important to season 2, but I want to actually analyze what the scripture that's been referenced is describing.

The whole point of the Book of Job is most of it is about God's conversation with Job. Chapter 41 is titled: The Lord's Power Shown in the Leviathan. And I really don't think that is a coincidence.

The Leviathan, as described in Chapter 41 of the Book of Job... is a giant snake that breathes fire. Literally.

Basically, God is talking to Job about all of their creations, and they bring up The Leviathan as one of the most fearsome things they ever created. It's basically God saying to Job: look at my big scary sea snake that breathes fire. Do you think you can fight this big scary sea snake that breathes fire? You can't. He's so powerful. No weapons can harm him. He's stronger than anything. Everyone's terrified of him. But he's not more powerful than ME because I'm God.

So where else does the Leviathan appear in theology?

In the Book of Enoch, The Leviathan is a female giant chaos serpent that lives deep in the ocean, while her mate, Behemoth, is a male giant chaos beast (based off of a hippopotamus or water-ox) who lives in the mythical desert of Duidain, East of Eden.

In the Book of Revelations, The Leviathan is associated with The Devil (a lot of things get associated with the Devil in Christianity. Read my Crowley isn't Lucifer, But... theory for more context). It is also strongly associated with being The Serpent of Eden ("this is the dragon that was cast out of Paradise, that beguiled Eve and is permitted in this world to make sport of us" - Jerome of Stridon), aka our good friend Crowley. In the prophecy of Revelations, the Leviathan, also known as The Seven-Headed Dragon, is kind of important in the final battle between Heaven and Hell.

So, I think Crowley is The Leviathan, and he's going to have a much more important role in the Second Coming than he thinks he does.

The Resurrectionist(s).

I think Season 3 is going to be a biblical zombie apocalypse.

Let me explain.

In the Episode 2 Minisode, we see Aziraphale find out that God is going to let Satan destroy everything Job owns, including his children. Aziraphale thinks killing children is wrong, so he tries to stop Crowley from killing Job's children, only to find out, surprise! Crowley never planned to kill the children and was always scheming behind Hell's back to find a way to protect them. Aziraphle helps Crowley by working together to trick Heaven into thinking Job's old children are dead and they have new ones now, saving the children's lives.

In the Episode 3 Minisode, we see Aziraphale and Crowley get involved with a body snatcher named Elpseth. Aziraphale thinks digging up corpses for money is wrong, so he stops Elpseth from selling the body to a resurrectionist, only to find out, surprise! The medical community actually really needs these human corpses to study anatomy and potentially reduce human suffering. He tries to help Elpseth dig up another body, but Wee Morag gets shot and killed, and Crowley stops Elpseth from killing herself with Laudanum by drinking it instead and makes her agree to live a better life.

In the Episode 4 Minisode, we see Aziraphale and Crowley flirt do a little magic show together so Aziraphale can repay Crowley for saving his books by doing a West End show to cover Crowley's alcohol smuggling debts. Meanwhile, there are literal zombie nazis who have been hired by hell to try to find evidence that the two of them are working together. Aziraphale and Crowley trust each other when their miracles aren't working, and they pull off the magic trick. Backstage, when Furfur rubs the proof in their faces, Aziraphale tricks him by doing sleight-of-hand so Furfur returns to hell without proof.

In the minisodes, we see several consistent themes popping up. We see Aziraphale struggling with morality. We see Aziraphale and Crowley working together to help humanity or each other. We see them saving human lives at great personal risk. We see deception and sleight-of-hand against Heaven, Hell, and Humanity. Lastly and most importantly, we see a lot of death and resurrection. We see the not-death and not-resurrection of Job's children, the deaths of resurrectionists of Victorian Scotland, and the literal death and resurrection of the Nazi Zombies.

Outside of the minisodes, we see Crowley and Aziraphale's combined miracle be worth 25 Lazarii, aka bringing 25 people back from the dead. We see Gabriel, in his purple-eyed prophetic trance, warn of a great storm that will raise the dead. And we see Crowley bring a man who was ripped apart by demons back to life(?).

Not to mention we know Jesus, The Resurrectionist, is going to be around for season 3. And the Second Coming, aka Judgement Day, is going to happen. And the Last Judgement in Abrahamic Theology is the Day of Resurrection; it is "The Resurrection of the Dead, both Just and Unjust" (Acts 24:25); it is Life to the Dead so they may live eternally in the Kingdom to Come. (That's why, in Abrahamic Theology, the Book of Life is so important. You can see my Book of Lies theory for more on that).

The dead are going to rise. It is established that it's possible for the dead to become zombies with the nazi zombie episode. Why devote an entire minisode to the concept of zombies if it isn't important? It's foreshadowed time and time again throughout season 2.

I also anticipate that we're going to see the other themes that were present in the minisodes. I don't think anyone will be surprised if next season Aziraphael will struggle with morality. Aziraphale and Crowley are going to have to learn to communicate properly so they can work together and trust each other again (being able to do miracles of immense power together is a huge Chekov's Gun). We're going to see them do some kind of deception again to trick Heaven and Hell into thinking they're getting their way with the apocalypse when they actually aren't.

In Summary

So, in conclusion, based on that little matchbox and the wider plot of Season 2, we're going to see Crowley be the giant fire-breathing chaos serpent, aka Leviathan (literally or metaphorically), with some kind of essential role at the end of the world. And I think we're going to see a zombie apocalypse or mass resurrection of some sort. I also think we're going to see Aziraphale and Crowley have to learn to trust each other again so they can do A Big Miracle and also trick Heaven and Hell with some really clever deception.

#good omens #good omens theory #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens season 1 #the job episode #the grave episode #the nazi zombie episode #good omens season 3 predictions #book of life

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lizaluvsthis · 6 days

Note

Soery if this isnt related to br or something

What are your main japanese songs (if you have any)

That can either relate for the two gay characters?

SAY NO MORE FELLAS!

Wowaka by Unknown Mother Goose - SMG4 redesign

Four deals with his struggles at being Perfect.

Rolling Girl by Miku Hatsune - SMG3 recolor/redesign

Three is trying his hardest all the time even after his arc.

The past re-encounters that gave him so much deja vu and all the bad things even tho he tries so many times making it all up with it. He couldn't.

(He does SH and the only way for him to think about is dying- yet Four prevents him from doing that)

Kokoro by Rin ft. Len Kagamine (duet) - SMG34

Four as the robot and Three... well... is the professor. (For those who heard the duet song you will understand that)

Vivi by kenshi yonezu - SMG3

Three slips away from Four and even ends up mising him even more.

Orange by 96Neko - SMG4

Three dies. Four is there to stay and cherish all the moments he and Three had made from their times, now he always visits his grave. Four finally moves on and Three could only say "goodbye"

Sigh by Rin Kagamine - SMG4

Four doesn't know why he was always sad, turns out his long dead-forgotten friend appeared as an angel to return the smiles he had missed.

Kokoronashi by Hikaru Station - SMG3

Three suffers at himself and well finds it hard to deal with emotions...

Knife by [vocaloids i fgt] - SMG4

Short straight [if you know and heard this song]

Four avenge Three's death after Niles killed him

Therefore You and Me by Eve ft. 38ban - SMG34

Ever long lasting slow burn. Recolored - redesign

Ikanaide (Don't Go) by Mafumafu - SMG3

From Recolor to 1st-2nd Redesign

Three's villain role is out of his hands now that he became a tritagonist. However he still looks out for SMG4 even after everything...

But somedays when he and Four get into basic arguements he still fears that one day he would stop talking to him and that he would rather hang out much to his friends.

That Four might eventually forget about what he had just done something good to him.

The Lost One's Weeping ft. Kagamine Rin - SMG4

Redesign vs. Recolor.

Four would recall his past about his senior high where he never understood nothing and the self comparisson between him and the rest of the students are highly at this rate.

It triggered him so much that he never wanted to get back to it, he is only recalling this from his vision - seen as his memories until he sees his recolored version telling him that he already made the decision and that there is nothing else he could do.

Nonsense Speaker by Miku Hatsune - SMG3

Smg3 even tho if he was a tsundere... he still has thoughts about his relationship with four... and the events they both shared if he'd still even see himself as the past or look into his bright self again.

Kagerou Days by Shizen no Teki ft. Miku Hatsune - SMG3

Basic timeloop

Three tried so many times to prevent four from dying with his self hatred side. Yet. He was the one to die at the end.

Racing Into The Night by YOASOBI - SMG4

Four didn't know why three was sad. (They both felt all sad and stuff-)

So when three said he wanted to die- four did too.

Suki Kirai (Like-Dislike) by Rin and Len - SMG34

YOU KNOW A SUN X MOON DYNAMIC ALREADY ITS OBVIOUS.

Feathers Across the Seasons by Kagamine Rin and Len - SMG3

Smg4 was the mysterious feather being

Three is the diseased human person.

Bonus for other characters:

@shygirl4991 @alianarepasa

High Range ft. Kagamine Len - Heart 3

It kinda does fit for Heart since he does use his fem voice not quite often

I'll Quit Singing ft. Kagamine Len - Book 3

Nothing else I just like to think that book plays with a piano

The World is Mine by Miku Hatsune - Spade 3

SPADE SINGING THIS? YES. YES I DID.

(ITS CANON BECAUSE HIS PERSONALITY TRAIT SAID SO)

The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku - Producer4

What huh personality disappearance? Yes.

Daughter of Evil by Kagamine Rin - Delinquent4

Servant of Evil by Len Kagamine Len - Producer4

I think you kmow this story already. Hehe.

#smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #lizaluv #bonus #six split for four #split six for fours #six splits for fours #split into threes!#split into three!#split into threes #split to threes!#shygirl4991 #alianrepasa

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honeybuns-bb · 1 month

Text

My Bad Batch Season 3 Predictions

Ok listen. I am NOT a critical thinker or predictor when it comes to my comfort media, and this show falls into that category, BUT in honor of Bad Batch Eve I thought it'd be fun to try my hand at making some theories anyway just so that if any of them happen I can brag that I predicted it. So let's try this out.

Thing I think will happen by the end of the series:

Phee dies

Cody shows up + Cody dies

Pabu is destroyed(I saw someone say they thought the Zillo Beast would be the one to destroy it and tbh I agree)

Wolffe comes back. He sighs dramatically about something. Perhaps even incorporating an eye roll. And if we're REALLY lucky, he'll even cross his arms.

CX-2 is Tech

DARTH VADER APPEARANCE

Things I WANT to happen by the end of the series:

Quinlan shows up(I will accept a name drop but NOTHING LESS. Give me his FACE or give me his NAME. No vague references)

Ahsoka pleeeeeease!!!

At least one (1) group hug with TBB

Ventress shanks a bitch

Crosshair gets a new outfit/armor. Someone help this outdated fashion disaster of a man.

emerie picks up hemlock and dunks him into the garbage. fucking obliterated(i saw someone ship them once. i want that person to know: im going to kill you)

Omega gets a lightsaber. As a treat. She deserves it.

DARTH VADER APPEARANCE. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

Things I think will happen in the finale specifically:

Crosshair, Echo, Wrecker, Hunter all die

Omega lives

Those three itty bitty clones(Mox, etc.) go with Rex

Cid pulls a Lando and tries to make up for her betrayal

Howzer dies and i die too

Crosshair momentarily overcomes his hand trembling to make a heroic and epic shot that saves someone's life(Rex/Wolffe/Gregor?). The music swells dramatically. The sun comes out. Omega wipes a tear from her eye. He will immediately die after this.

CX-2(Tech?) kills one of the bad batch

Then Omega/someone will be in danger and CX-2(Tech??) will overcome his reprogramming or whatever to save her life. He will also immediately die after this.

I haven't decided if I think Batcher will live and stay with Omega(symbolic of the rest of TBB still being with Omega metaphorically despite their deaths) or will die before the rest of them in a sooner episode(foreshadowing that they're all going to fkcing die)

I unfortunately don't think Hemlock will die. I have never hoped to be wrong about something as much as I hope to be wrong about this.

DARTH. VADER. APPEARANCE.

Welp. That's it. Happy Bad Batch Eve. See you all tomorrow if we're all still alive.

#my favorite character is omega btw #i know some people would rather the series not focus on her so much #and i get it #but i am not one of them #she's my little sweetheart angel #star wars #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #sw tbb #the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb #tbb omega #clone force 99 #star wars the bad batch #sw tbb s3

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paracosmicessence · 3 months

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pls tell me it doesn't end like the show did...give the evil lesbians a happy ending

i have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what you’re talking about i’ve never heard of a killing eve finale i only know killing eve seasons 1 through 3 followed by a hivemind where murder lesbians are happy the end

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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 4 months

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Weekend Getaway (1/3)

AO3 | 2 | 3

RATING: M

SUMMARY: When Emma's roommate drags her to get a live Christmas Tree, she ends up trapped at a Christmas Village for the weekend. Fortunately, the village had a bar and a bartender that Emma wants to get to know better.

Tagging: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert - DM me if you would like to be added/removed from the list.

"You're coming with me," Ruby announced as she banged into the flat. The front door crashed against the wall before closing behind her. Wearing a red knit sweater with a Christmas tree on it that actually lit up and arms heavily laden with shopping bags, she was the bright spot - literally - of Christmas Cheer that Emma was certain she did not order.

It wasn’t that Emma hated Christmas or anything quite so dramatic. But if given the opportunity to skip directly to New Year’s Eve after Halloween, she would happily accept. There was no escaping how dreadfully lonely her life had become since she’d driven away from Storybrooke after - Nope, not going there.

"We are getting a live tree this year! Get your jacket, let's go." Ruby continued, not waiting for Emma to acknowledge her.

"Those are fire hazards. Plus, where would we put it?" Emma gestured at their tiny, crowded living space.

Ruby grunted as she deposited the bags on the nearest chair. She grabbed Emma's boots and threw them at her, "Put 'em on."

Scowling and grumbling, she clicked off the TV and shoved her feet into her boots.

It was impossible to deny Ruby anything. They came to the city together a few years ago to get over their broken hearts and discover a life outside of their small town. They'd helped nurse each other through the heartbreaks, acted as both wing-woman and excuse for one another - depending on what the night demanded, and endured the challenges of being artists in a big city together. Ruby had landed a part on an off-broadway play and Emma was in her second season at the New York City Ballet. It took several failed auditions, many pints of ice cream, and the constant support from one another to get them this far.

"Let's burn down the building then."

"That's the spirit!"

§§§§ §§§§ §§§§ §§§§

They drove for hours, leaving the city behind for the snow-covered, rolling hills of the upstate. While singing and dancing to old favourite songs, they passed several signs advertising various Christmas tree farms. Ruby would shake her head and drive by them. After the tenth one, Emma finally asked where they were going. “I found the perfect farm online.”

At Emma’s sceptical look, Ruby continued, “I promise, there is something special about the one we are going to," Ruby explained. "I can just feel it, you know?"

Emma released a resigned sigh. Ruby was impulsive and spiritual, believing her intuition was a powerful force that should not be ignored. Emma needed something a bit more concrete to guide her decisions.

Ruby slowed at a lane that was much like any other they had passed all day, except this one sported a faded red pickup truck with rounded fenders that was wrapped in fat, colourful light bulbs. A hand-painted sign welcomed guests to the Jones' Christmas Tree Farm for sleigh rides, hot cidre, hot chocolate, and to cut and carry home their very own tree from its stand on the stained wooden slats in the bed of the truck.

As they bounced along the uneven lane, Ruby cleared her throat. “Don’t kill me…”

“No promises.” Emma tore her attention from the endless rows of firs and spruces lined outside her window to glare at her old friend. The ice in that glare would have stopped the hearts of mere mortals. But, this was no mere mortal. This was Ruby Lucas and nothing could hinder Ruby’s excitement once it gained momentum.

Ruby smiled brightly at Emma and pulled a duffle bag from behind Emma’s seat. “I booked a cabin for us for the weekend. We were just saying that we needed a little break and they had so many fun things and, wait until you see the farm, it is beautiful!”

Emma had planned to set up a station on her couch and binge-watch garbage telly. Not spend a weekend on a farm, much less a farm that would doubtlessly be filled with families and couples buying trees the entire time. This was definitely worse than the countless movies featuring smiling men and women in red or green sweaters in front of a highly decorated tree that were beginning to populate every channel she surfed, right? Yes, she decided, it was. Ruby had driven her directly into the ridiculous small town that featured in the background of one of those ridiculous movies and was making them stay for the entire weekend. This was not what she had in mind when they were talking about their holiday. Sun, sand, and sangrias had featured in her dreams. Not snow, cidre, and Santa.

“They’d better have hard cidre or spiked egg nog,” Emma muttered.

“Like I would spend a sober weekend in a cabin on a farm!” Ruby shot Emma a wounded look.

Emma snorted and shook her head. “Well, that’s something, at least.”

“Oh, hush. This will be a weekend to remember.”

The lane opened up to reveal a stunning farmhouse with snowy Christmas trees in rows lining the hills sprawling in every direction. A red barn stood out brightly in stark contrast to the white landscape. It would have been breathtaking, Emma thought, if not for the Christmas Village that stood before the barn under twinkling fairy lights.

"Our cabin better be out of town."

"Well...it is close to the Holly Jolly Tavern, I think."

"RUBY!"

"I know how much you hate Christmas and we are changing that this year. Your heart will grow three sizes and Tiny Tim will live after all."

"Wait...am I the Grinch or Scrooge?"

"Yes." Ruby laughed, throwing the car in park. "I'll check us in, why don't you go find your Christmas spirit?" She mimed taking a shot before getting out of the car and walking toward the farmhouse, leaving Emma in the passenger seat of the old car, quickly growing cold, wondering why she allowed Ruby to pull her into these ridiculous situations in the first place.

§§§§ §§§§ §§§§ §§§§

The Holly Jolly Tavern was, thankfully, more Tavern than Holly Jolly. Sure, a decorated tree stood tall in the corner near the fire crackling in a large hearth and large multi-coloured bulbs were strung along the walls. And, of course, the drink specials had cutesy holiday names and instrumental Christmas songs played softly in the background. But, the bartenders weren’t dressed as elves or in tacky holiday sweaters and the tables and chairs were your standard sturdy wooden pairings found in drink establishments everywhere.

Emma sat at the long bar and scanned the wall of spirits trying to determine what best fit this situation.

“What can I get you, love?” The low voice was charmingly accented, and it sent chills down her back. She turned toward the bartender and met brilliant blue eyes that stilled her heart. He wore a crooked smile that made her think very dirty thoughts about his lips and the amber scruff framing the sharp line of his jaw.

“Whatever your favourite drink is,” Emma answered with a flirty smile. She thanked whatever gods were watching that her voice sounded steady, her mouth was suddenly so dry that she'd expected it to crack.

He nodded at her request and started pulling together ingredients for her drink. She watched him at his task, mesmerised by his movements and the way he focused so completely on his task. She wondered what it would be like to have that focus directed solely on her and her pleasure. She felt her cheeks heat at the thought and turned away in an attempt to hide it, but his eyes danced with mischievous humour as he handed over her drink, telling her that she was caught. Luckily, he was kind enough not to comment.

She studied the bright red drink, cranberries and mint floated in the glass, and a thin lime garnished the rim of the tall glass. It looked refreshing and exciting. She wondered if this was truly his favourite drink or a cocktail he had mixed for her using that special power great bartenders had - that uncanny ability to know exactly what a patron needed based on a single glance.

“A Cranberry Mojito,” he told her, leaning on the bar before her. Her eyes lingered on his well-defined arms and the unfair way they were stretching his deep blue knit sweater. “What brings you here, um?”

“Emma,” she answered for him, “And, oh, I don’t know. I guess that I have always dreamed of living in one of those ridiculous towns from those cheesy Christmas romances.”

“Pleasure, Emma. Killian,” he said in that musical voice. “I take it this trip wasn’t your idea, then?”

“Nope. My roommate surprised me as we were pulling in - Ohhh! This is good.”

He smiled in triumph at her approval. “The trick is making the simple syrup from scratch with fresh cranberries.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Emma said before taking another sip of the deliciously sweet and tart drink. “Is this truly your favourite drink?”

“Tonight, it is.”

“Your tastes change so often?” She teased, her eyebrow lifting to emphasise her innuendo.

“I’m not so fickle as that, love. I am partial to rum, but not so dull as to only take it one way.” Killian replied, meeting her gaze. The heat in the depths of his sapphire eyes made her stomach tighten in response. This man was too good to be anything but trouble.

Mmm, but it would be some good trouble.

“That looks fantastic! Can I get one, too?” Ruby’s voice shattered the tension building between them.

“Coming right up, love,” Killian answered immediately. His eyes lingered on Emma’s a moment longer before he turned to mix Ruby’s drink.

“It’s a Cranberry Mojito,” Emma explained, turning to look at Ruby. “Here, try some while you wait.”

Ruby’s eyes were wide and she was biting her lips together tightly to suppress what Emma knew to be a wolfish smile. Emma shook her head subtly, pleading with Ruby to not say a word. Ruby nodded excitedly at her in approval of whatever she had read into the exchange she interrupted earlier. Emma frantically shook her head - whatever you are thinking, stop thinking it!

When Killian returned, setting Ruby’s drink on the bar before her, Ruby pounced. “So, what is your name?”

“Killian,” he answered with amusement laced in the melody of his voice.

“And what does your girlfriend think of you making eyes with your patrons, Killian?”

Emma sputtered and coughed as she tried not to choke on the sip she’d taken before Ruby’s obvious question. Ruby turned to Emma, earnest concern etched on her face, while her eyes danced with humour, “Are you okay, Emma? Need some water?”

Narrowing her eyes at Ruby, Emma shook her head. Her breath was still taken by the liquid burning in her lungs. A few strangled coughs later, Emma ground out that she was just fine. Killian slid a glass of water to her anyway, the sweet gesture sinking Emma further into… well, whatever was happening between them.

“Good,” said Ruby briskly and she turned to Killian expectantly.

“I’m not a man to make eyes with someone while involved with another,” his accent clipping the words.

He hadn’t liked that accusation one bit. The realisation warmed Emma as much as the rum spreading in her blood. He wouldn’t cheat on her and leave her too embarrassed, too ashamed, to face the town she had lived in her entire life. He may be trouble, but he was honourable trouble and that she could handle.

“What kind of a man are you then, Killian?” Ruby asked. She sipped from her cocktail and pinned him with a look that dared him to rise to the bait.

“Don’t do that, Rubes,” Emma snapped. Her temper was rising - she felt the need to protect Killian from Ruby’s intrusive questions. Killian sent her a grateful look before excusing himself to serve a man flagging him down on the other end of the bar.

“Ooh, you like this one,” Ruby whispered far too loudly as she waggled her eyebrows ridiculously. Emma could not help but laugh and the strange frustration that had so quickly risen in her dispersed.

“No. I just thought that was unfair of you,” Emma said simply.

“Mmhmmm.”

Emma rolled her eyes at the disbelief in Ruby’s tone. “Fine. Think whatever you want.”

“I do and I will.”

“So, what is there to do in a Christmas Village?” Emma asked in a very smooth and effortless transition from the previous topic.

Ruby perked up and started rattling off various activities that she had booked or seen on her walk over to the pub. Emma listened half-heartedly - her attention straying to the barkeep continuously. She caught him looking her way once and he sent her a devastating smile before returning to his work.

He served them several more rounds as the night grew older, but he was unable to linger longer than getting their order or setting down their drinks as the Holly Jolly Tavern stayed busy once the sun went down.

When they left, staggering into the night, Emma felt a twinge of disappointment that he hadn’t seemed to notice her exit.

Would it have been too much to ask for him to come out running to see her home safe like some Victorian gentleman? She snorted at that very drunk, very ridiculous thought and followed Ruby to the cabin she would call home for the next few days.

#emma swan #killian jones #captain swan #captain swan au #cs au ff #cs ff #cs christmas #cs fanfic #killian x emma #there will be fluff #there will be smut #there will be a happy ending #fic by Jas

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