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eriophorumcallitrix · 4 months

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ok so i wanna talk about my biggest gripe with the latest reason for disliking tubbo. this ended up accidentally being a more in-depth character explanation from my/tubbos pov. and boy do I mean the compulsive overexplanation really popped off on this one

(disclaimer: you’re obviously allowed to dislike any character you want, I’m not your mom and I’m just voicing my own view + experiences lol)

one of the biggest criticisms for him im seeing as of the moment is that he’s being annoying. and I completely agree. I think he’s being inflammatory at really awful times. but what I don’t agree with is the lack of discussion about why he’s acting this way. chalking his callousness up to simple neglect or lack of care is a disservice to his character.

my interpretation of tubbos current mental state and how he got here is like this:

tension has been high strung for weeks now due to the egg island workers showing up and harassing people. they’ve killed empanada, and there really does not seem to be shit they can do about it. the federation doesn’t give a shit, the workers are OP as all hell, and tubbo has tried everything in his power to keep sunny and her siblings safe. not even his busted set of armor kept him from getting three-tapped. like tubbo said: “why try if there’s no chance of winning?”

so already, he’s depressed and frustrated with himself for not being able to do a damn thing to keep the people he loves safe.

then we get into his relationships with the people around him. in tubbos eyes, pac and fit are forming a close relationship that he feels is going to leave him behind. pac, fit and Ramon have each other now. they’re family now in a way that tubbo doesn’t seem to be a part of now. I can’t remember if he said this exactly, but it was along the lines of: well now there’s not going to be any space for me [if they’re that close.] his closest friends are moving on without him, and there’s nothing he can do about that either.

now we have a depressed barely-adult guy whose self esteem has TANKED because he feels like there’s no use for him anymore. his friends are moving on without him and the only thing he’s good for is how useful he can be to others.

except for sunny.

it barely took a week for them to get attached to each other, and now it’s them against the world. sunny is all he needs, and tubbo is all she needs. they mean everything to each other, and would burn it all down if it made the other smile. and right now? it’s looking like it’ll be just them against the world until further notice.

but sunny has her friends. she has her siblings! she loves them to death and they love her to death too. she has her accountant bad, her bodyguard fit and driver pac! (if I remember correctly xd) and they’ve got her. sunny can trust them, and has them to stick around for.

tubbo does not have this. don’t get him wrong, he’s incredibly grateful that she’s got people on her side that love her other than him! but this doesn’t come without unspoken jealousy and resentment. not resentment towards sunny, obviously, but definitely some jealousy of her relationships with the others. and possible resentment towards the others for not sparing the same kindness towards him.

this is where I tie back to my original point. the difference between sunny and her pa is mostly communication and trust of others. sunny is willing to communicate and trust others, and tubbo is not.

to start with why tubbo isn’t communicating with others right now: i believe he’s reached the point of emotional shutdown. he has tried his damndest to do what he can to resolve the situation and nothing has worked. this is already something I believe is stressing him out really badly, thus taking up a significant portion of his emotional threshold.

and now he can’t even seek solace or help in his friends because he cannot let himself trust them.

he has tried to give out cries for help in ways that aren’t necessarily straightforward. and he’s also said some seriously worrying things lately under the guise of being jokes. i don’t blame the others for not getting that, but I still can’t help but wonder why nobody’s really thought to look any deeper into it? like don’t get me wrong, tubbo says some completely inane shit sometimes. but has the frequency of these “jokes” and his inflammatory behavior not tipped anyone off at all?

regardless, tubbo feels like he’s tried. he’s not that good at communicating, and even when he is, he may not come off as treating the situation with proper sensitivity. it’s already a struggle to communicate, not even mentioning trying to ask for help. this is a whole other layer to wondering why he even tries doing things “right.”

he already thinks people only keep him around for what he can provide, so thats the only thing he thinks he’s got going for him and he’s barely hanging onto it too.

so as a result of not knowing how to cope with the situations around him and pretty much being extended past his emotional capability, he acts out. he doesn’t want fit and pac together because they’re gonna leave him behind. so he tries to ruin it. it doesn’t work, and they are continuing to move on without him. so he constantly comments on how annoying it is, and in a way, tries to get them to push him away themselves. he just wants a resolution to this hurt he’s feeling, and he wants them to just get “the move away” over already. but obviously that’s not gonna happen.

so he makes insensitive jokes, says stupid shit and does stupid shit too. he lies and blames others. he wants his friends to push him away already and give him a good reason to finally run away with sunny and completely isolate. this is beyond his capabilities, and all he needs at this point is a solid reason for him to finally hit the ground running.

but each day he comes back to spawn, doing everything he can to not completely lose it for sunny. he’s trying his best to keep it together for her, and he can’t let himself be weak. admitting his feelings in the place he’s currently in would end up coming out as a breakdown. and he cannot let the people around him see that. it would be a fatal error to open up when he cannot trust the feds nor the egg island workers not to take advantage of his weakness. and he needs to be there for sunny, to at the very least protect her if nothing else.

so essentially: tubbo is past his emotional threshold and is barely keeping it together. the facade is slipping and the harshness/what people perceive as annoying is continuously slipping out from the cracks.

(with this next bit, this is just me recognizing autistic patterns of behavior in myself + some others in tubbo’s character. i dont actually know if he’s autistic this is just me drawing parallels from my experience. and how I have seen these behaviors be treated within the qsmp fandom. don’t say I’m armchair diagnosing him or whatever for the love of god please)

so tubbo cannot cope with the situations around him, which is resulting in his mask slipping. he’s fully aware that he’s being insensitive and kind of an ass, but he is quite literally past his capability of keeping up with social niceties at this point. and i do think the unnecessary jokes in bad taste are purposefully to get people to either notice something is wrong or to get them to push him away so he doesn’t keep hurting their feelings.

and people getting onto him about communication I think simply do not get how utterly difficult it is to communicate when you have reached the point where you’re struggling to mask. not to mention the danger he could put himself in by being vulnerable to others on top of that. so ultimately, brushing off his fears and character traits as a simple “he could do this but doesn’t want to/is just stubborn and annoying for no reason/for a reason that isn’t good enough for me” is kind of ridiculous. it also reminds me of some things I’ve been told in relation to my struggles with autism, but that’s just me. not that i think people are actually being ableist but i do think some of y’all’s arguments are slipping a little too close to ableist rhetoric.

once again you’re allowed to dislike whoever you want and think they’re annoying, but i would encourage you to think a little more in depth as to why you think they’re annoying.

(and I’m not saying some people don’t like autistic traits that aren’t cute n quirky but… it’s getting a little too close for comfort >_>)

#1.5k words fml #qsmp tubbo #qsmp discourse #discourse #flying a little close to the sun with this one methinks #ableism mention #3 am word vomit about one of my faves. who could’ve seen this coming

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beheworthy · 1 year

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Jane, listen to me. You must not give up. You must finish what you've started. Why? Because you're right.

Chris Hemsworth and Natalie Portman's chemistry in Thor4 is unanimously hailed as the best thing about the film. While I absolutely agree with the consensus, for me, it started here with this scene 11 years ago.

This is the big romantic scene where the couple falls in love as they connect with each other. For example, Tony and Pep's dance in IronMan1: Pep is in a backless gown which she makes a point to mention and they almost kiss. Diana and Steve dance in the snow in Wonder Woman: they are also dancing close to each other, she even says so and it directly leads to them sleeping together. Arthur and Mera roam about in Italy in Aquaman: he catches her fall and they almost kiss as well.

These are all scenes I love from movies I love. I'm just using them as a reference to point out what director Kenneth Branagh does differently here. This scene is where his brilliance shines. He gives us romance without anything sexual or even sensual. It's just heartfelt sincere emotion between the two characters that elevates it to something more than just attraction.

It begins with Jane talking about the significance of the place she's brought Thor to, Thor thanking her for helping him, and her making a joke about hitting him twice in their aggressive meet cute, which he so graciously takes (post-Ragnarok Thor would never). He then gives her her notebook so she can continue her research. It's a humbling moment for the cocky Crown Prince as he'd so casually promised to bring everything back but all he could really bring was a notebook.

This is more than anyone has done for her because no one even believes in her research, let alone help her continue it. She understandably gets upset about having to start over with no support + with a hostile organization on her back now. And then comes the most important bit, he encourages her to keep going BECAUSE she is right. Not a cheesy 'I believe in you' or a fake deep 'believe in yourself' or even a superficial 'don't give up'. But keep going because you are right. Plain and simple. It gets through to her because it's straightforward and honest.

He then elaborates on it by explaining to her about the cosmos which directly furthers her research. He actively helps her research and supports her in the true sense, something she really needed and rarely got. And that becomes the foundation of their connection. The lighting is perfect, the ambiance is perfect. The actors do an admirable job. They don't touch at all, mind you. They're sitting with some distance between them. They don't even look into each other's eyes. Nothing romantic is said or done here. Yet, it’s romantic.

This scene is quite literally the reward of Thor’s hero’s journey: her. He learns kindness, sincerity, and humility from her and tries to emulate it going forward. She is his reward.

We get the emotional scene later when he dies for this town of 30 people. We get the big damn kiss. He literally gets her her research back. We get everything. Later. This scene was solely about the connection that sets the base for their relationship. It's the why of their love story. Both Thor and Jane are instrumental in each other's growth and make each other better people. She made him worthy and he made her believe in herself. I love the idea that love should be something that empowers and inspires you.

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lumiellle · 9 months

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“three simple words”; haikaveh, t. 🌱🏛️

It happens when Kaveh is dusting the bookshelves, humming absentmindedly to himself. There is no warning, no explanation, no lead-up, no romance. Alhaitham tells him, straightforward and without overture: “I love you.”

“What?” Kaveh stiffens, the feather duster in his hand stilling. Alhaitham clears his throat. He’s standing behind Kaveh, close enough for him to feel the warmth of his body on his back.

“I love you. Didn’t you hear me the first time?”

“Well, yes, but—” Kaveh stops himself mid-sentence, the words tumbling all over themselves inside his mouth. Why now? He’s been dying to hear those three words from Alhaitham, but he has always expected to hear them in a very different setting. Maybe during a date, over dinner, with the dim light of candles illuminating the small space between them. After making love, wrapped in damp sheets and with sweat gluing them together. Hell, even after a fight. But this? Kaveh is painfully aware that there is not a single romantic bone in Alhaitham’s body, and perhaps he should have been prepared to be caught off guard, but the surge of joy he expected to feel after getting his wish fulfilled is instead overshadowed by disappointment. He turns to look at Alhaitham. He’s got a straight face, his head tilted to the side just a little, like he’s waiting for an answer.

“Why?” Kaveh asks inelegantly.

“Why do I love you?”

“No.” Kaveh wrings his hands. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Alhaitham’s brows knit together. “Because it’s the truth. I was thinking about our relationship, and watching you take care of our home only solidified what I’ve been thinking for a while. So I decided to share that with you. Simple as that.”

“You love me because I clean?”

Alhaitham rolls his eyes. “It’s astounding how good you are at misconstruing everything said to you. It’s not the act of cleaning itself. You treat my belongings with care. Your presence makes living here comfortable and pleasant. That’s very valuable to me.”

“But,” Kaveh interjects, feeling his cheeks grow hot, “don’t you usually tell someone that when the mood is right?”

“Why would I need a specific mood to love you? Isn’t it enough to convey these emotions when they’re fresh?”

At that, something klicks for Kaveh. To him, it might just be a random Thursday night, but he had no idea what was going on in Alhaitham’s mind until a few minutes ago. When the emotions are fresh. Kaveh swallows, Alhaitham’s words echoing through his mind. The longer he thinks about it, the hotter his face gets.

“You were thinking about me,” he says, voice wavering.

“That’s what I told you,” Alhaitham replies matter-of-factly. “I think about you a lot, to put it precisely.” Kaveh is at a loss for words for a moment as he processes the implications of what Alhaitham has just told him.

“Okay,” is what he manages eventually, not knowing where to direct the conversation next. The air around them feels heavy, and Kaveh doesn’t know if he wants to stay or run away.

Alhaitham stands before him still, eyes on him. “Well?” he says.

“W-well what?” Kaveh stammers. The tiniest bit of a smile appears on Alhaitham’s lips.

“What’s your answer? Do you not reciprocate my feelings?”

Kaveh’s heart lurches. The embarrassment of being asked such a question to his face is enough to render him speechless.

A beat passes. Alhaitham regards him calmly, waiting for his answer, while Kaveh tries to wrap his head around the fact that this is both absolutely unromantic but so like Alhaitham that it’s making him fall just a little harder. Alhaitham puts him out of his misery by gently prying the feather duster out of Kaveh’s hand and setting it aside. He takes both of Kaveh’s hands in his, warmth traveling from his palms to Kaveh’s clammy fingers — grounding him.

How can Alhaitham simply say these three words to him? Like it’s nothing? With the confidence and certainty of someone who’s said them a million times before? Even though Kaveh’s feelings for Alhaitham are no less true, it takes courage to spell it out like that. His heart beating a mile a minute and his fingernails digging into Alhaitham’s palms, he opens his mouth.

“I…” he begins, swallowing, “I love you, too.” As soon as the words finally leave his mouth, he tries to hide his face in his hands, but Alhaitham doesn’t let him. He holds onto him tightly, keeping him close. His eyes — oh, his eyes. They light up, mesmerizing, captivating, and Kaveh knows that even if he let go of him now, he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere at all.

“I’m glad,” Alhaitham says simply. He releases one of Kaveh’s hands to pull him closer by the back of his neck. Instinctively, Kaveh’s eyes flutter shut — and without fail, Alhaitham follows up, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

This Kaveh knows. They’ve kissed so many times he’s lost count. Kissing Alhaitham is easy. But now it carries a different kind of warmth, a different kind of weight. He sinks into it, his arms wrapping around Alhaitham’s neck. Alhaitham’s hold on him tightens in return. They stand there, in the middle of the living room, kissing. It’s a regular Thursday night, nothing notable about their day at all, and still, somehow Alhaitham has managed to turn this moment into one Kaveh will never forget.

They part for air, their faces still close together. Kaveh’s heart starts up a rapid staccato in his chest when their eyes meet again. Alhaitham’s stare has not lost its intensity, but it has mellowed out, little wrinkles forming at the outer edges of his eyes. Yes, Kaveh thinks. Even though he picks the worst moments to be cute, even though he has no sense for romance or aesthetics; even though he is untidy and particular about the stupidest things. Despite, or maybe precisely because of all of his imperfections, this is the man he loves. So he tells him again, right against his lips: “I love you.” This time, his voice stays steady.

#lonnie writes #haikaveh #alhaitham #kaveh #genshin impact #genshin fanfic

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beyondthegame · 8 months

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Maybe "continuously denying others who think they are together" with Milan! I voted for Milan in the poll! I just love friends to lovers and by the poll it seems I'm not the only one. Love your work btw🥺

“Milan’s a tennis player,” E points out randomly as you walk the corridors of Inter City training centre.

You smile a bit at the mention of them. “They are.” You turn to E. “You like tennis?”

“I do. It’s my favourite sport,” they say all too quickly before their brows furrow. “Don’t tell my dad I said that though.”

“My lips are sealed,” you laugh as you turn a corner. “Why did you think of Milan anyway? Are you interested in them?” The question shouldn’t make your heart skip a beat like it does, in a way where you’re anticipating an answer… where you’re hoping the answer is no.

E shakes their head. “No. I mean, not in that way.” The corners of their mouth twitch upwards. “What about you?”

You arch a brow. “What about me?”

“Are you interested in Milan?” E asks.

A breath quickly escapes you. “No.”

E’s grinning now, there’s a slight spring in their step and the only reason you don’t see more of it is because they smoothly move to stand in front of you. “Oo, fucking liar,” E murmurs in a sing-song voice.

“Piss off,” you groan.

“You’re not even trying to convince me.”

“I don’t like Milan,” you say in a straightforward tone, only to watch E lift a brow. “Not in that way. We’ve been best friends for years, I love how we are.” That isn’t entirely a lie. You and Milan are a brilliant pair, the two of you work, you’re both supportive of each other. You’re practically partners in crime.

E shrugs. “I sense different. Just, you know, the way you look at each other… like—“

“Like what?” you push.

“Like the two of you could be way more than friends,” E answers, in a tone that’s softer and less playful than usual. You can tell they mean what they’re saying, but it’s… only an observation. It doesn’t mean anything.

Your friendship with Milan works. It works way too well for you to ruin it because of some… feelings.

E’s eyes suddenly light up. “Speak of the devil.”

They’re right. In front of you, you see Milan walking down the corridor, animatedly chatting with one of your teammates until they spot you. They wrap up the conversation quickly before giving you a beaming smile. Surely the simple gesture shouldn’t fill you up with so much joy, but it does.

“Hey, you two,” Milan says as they reach you and E, their eyes stay trained on you now. “I stopped off at that takeaway you like and got you food, it’s in the car.”

“Aw, isn’t that cute?” E teases. A tone that you choose to ignore.

“It is. Thank you, Milan,” you respond with a smile.

E’s gaze flits between the two of you, and even though they’re feeling like a third wheel, they linger for a moment—especially when a question comes to their mind quickly.

“You think your best friend’s gorgeous, don’t you, Milan?”

“What?” you and Milan exclaim at the same time.

“You do, don’t you?” E pushes.

Milan glances over at you. Their eyes sparkle a little, the answer is stuck in their throat. “I, um… I mean.” They swallow hard. “Yes,” they say a lot more confidently after a breath. “The answer to your question is yes. I do have eyes.”

“Hm,” E hums before turning to you. “You should think about what I said.”

#drabble #milan st. clair #feel like E’s low key the matchmaker if you’re not on their route

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mental-about-you-too · 8 months

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There are a lot of layers to The Kiss, but one is the connection to Crowley’s simplistic conception of what it means for humans to be In Love. He says, when scheming about getting Nina and Maggie together: “one fabulous kiss and we’re good” and “vavoom, sorted”. He’s imagining a romantic movie where a kiss is the be-all-end-all, the solution to all conflict, a magical mode of communication wherein two people automatically understand each other from now on, and a definitive signifier that Love has Happened.

This is how he imagines human love. I think he’s always considered his relationship with Aziraphale much more complex and precious than anything a couple of humans could do, what with their longevity disadvantage and limited understanding of the universe. I think he started falling for Aziraphale at “I gave it away!”, and never stopped; nor did he ever really try to resist that pull. I think he has recognized his feelings for Aziraphale for a long time, even if he hasn’t always acknowledged them outright—largely because he knew Aziraphale had some serious fear-based hang ups and would have been uncomfortable, and because their relationship has always been forbidden and dangerous to them both.

So then we come to that scene where Nina tells him “it certainly looks like that”. I don’t think the part of this interaction that rocks Crowley’s world is a sudden realization of his feelings—he knows he’s got feelings, to a degree that they sometimes get him into trouble—it’s the idea that those feelings could be translated into human terms. It’s that final remark: “other people’s love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own”. He considers his situation so much more complicated than a human relationship, and in that moment he thinks…what if it isn’t. What if I’ve been rescuing him when he doesn’t strictly need it just for an excuse to be near him, indulging his pretenses of plausible deniability, getting all tangled up worrying about what heaven and hell will think, (and even now continuing to live in my damn car in the hope that he might invite me to move in in his own time), and it could all just be…vavoom, sorted? Could it be that simple?

Now fast-forward to That Scene. Aziraphale thinks he has just told Crowley: “I can restore you to the status you deserve, and now everyone will recognize the goodness I’ve always seen in you.” But Crowley’s just heard, “we can be together, as long as you change into someone else.”

I could write a whole essay on everything that might have been said to make this conversation go differently (and on all the character insight revealed by the way it does go--as many people have already done), but at this point Crowley is absolutely hemorrhaging emotion, and he tries, but he’s failing to reason with Aziraphale or explain why this hurts so much, and he invokes the example of Gabriel and Beelzebub, and it doesn’t work, and they’re talking at cross purposes, and Aziraphale still doesn’t get it, and things are spiraling out of control, and Crowley thinks, desperately: maybe the human way will work.

The timing is completely wrong. The approach is completely wrong. He kisses Aziraphale, and it’s not romantic at all; it’s full of anger and hurt and desperate, desperate hope that this might somehow fix everything, like "in a Richard Curtis film". And Crowley can feel it not working, can feel Aziraphale tense and confused, and they’re not falling into each other’s arms in sudden understanding, but he keeps his grip, holds on tight, trying to insist that this should fix it. He gambled on a human fantasy as a panacea, and he hangs on so long because he knows he’s losing the bet.

I first saw the kiss scene before watching S2 (after the season had been out for several days though; I didn't know about the leak) (I deliberately went looking for spoilers to make sure it was gay enough before I committed—I was a Sherlock fan; don’t @ me), and my initial reaction was: how could Crowley be so cruel. To squander something so precious as their first kiss, and use it to convey hurt rather than love. To know Aziraphale is struggling with a choice, and to try to use how they feel about each other against him. But after watching the show properly, I no longer think it was manipulative (though Aziraphale may have taken it that way)— just misguided. Just inept, and desperate, and so, so ill-advised.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #i finally made a tumblr because this show is taking up so much space in my brain and I needed to indulge the obsession somehow #ineffable husbands #gos2e6 #character analysis #good omens meta

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marvelandimagine · 2 years

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Reconcile

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Annie Murphy (baker!OC)

Summary: Alfie and Annie get in their first big fight and work through the aftermath.

Word count: 5,900 (whoops)

A/N: Uh I didn't plan on this being so long or switching between four different locations but that's how things went and I hope you enjoy this behemoth!!

—

It was true that Alfie Solomons hadn’t been in many serious relationships. But he was still surprised by the lack of full-blown arguments he’d had with Annie in the three months they’d been together. Sure, they’d bicker occasionally, but usually over general annoyances and frustrations that were just part of the territory of spending so much time with one person.

“Pet, how can you possibly fuckin’ shed so much hair? You’re actually worse than Cyril.”

“How can you possibly fuckin’ snore like there is a military tank rolling across your esophagus? Oh, the unsolved mysteries of our lives!”

But generally, they were still both riding the buzz of the new relationship, and the days that flew by were filled with laughter and sex and contentment.

So, while he had a feeling that telling Annie he'd be going to appraise jewels from the Romanovs wasn't something she'd be thrilled about, he didn't think it'd be that big of a deal. He'd explain that yes, the Russians were still fucking insane, but it was too good of a deal to pass up, especially for one night of work. And then he’d watch Annie perk right up when she found out he'd be getting her something stunning out of it.

It was a simple, straightforward plan. Until it all went to shit.

All because Alfie, who could normally teach a master class in deliberation, didn't take two crucial factors into account: how much Annie loved him, and how much she feared losing him.

He tells her casually in the kitchen after dinner, tapping her wrist lightly to stop her from instinctively washing dishes. It made him simultaneously chuckle and roll his eyes at how, after three months of her basically living at his place, she still forgot that Edna would take care of it.

“Let me get this straight. You’re gonna fuck about with the Russian aristocrats, the same people Tommy is working with who you said were 'outta their frozen, vodka-soaked minds?'" She frowns, crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter. "Why is that now a good idea?”

He brushes off the question with a wave of his hands.

"It’s not a long-term deal, love, I’m just helpin' Tommy out with a singular transaction.” He grins. “Of which you stand to benefit greatly from, I might add, ‘cause you can absolutely fuckin’ guarantee I’ll be bringin back somethin properly dazzlin' for my properly dazzlin' woman.”

He brings his hands to her waist and kisses her forehead, fully expecting to pull back and see her smiling, feel her mouth on his, hear her joke that she’s totally expecting a full-fledged tiara. Instead, she nudges him off her.

“You said you can’t guarantee anythin’ with Russians, that they’re unpredictable as all hell.” She shakes her head, her voice firm. “I don’t think you should do it.”

Alfie’s eyebrows shoot up and he steps back from her, one hand roaming through his beard.

“The fuck is she acting like I’m some kind of naive fucking civilian? Like she understands this part of the world because I tell her one bloody thing about the Russians?"

He tilts his head, and despite his quiet tone, his words have an unmistakable bite at their edges.

“Well, it is a good thing I ain’t askin’ ya for your permission, An, am I?”

Unlike Alfie, Annie’s reply is not quiet.

“Well, then, have a nice time getting shot in your thick fucking skull after those maniacs turn on you!" She storms past him and into the living room, only stopping to fire back over her shoulder:

"But nooooo, that would never happen to Alfie Solomons, you foresee everything, right?”

If it was anyone else talking to him the way she was, Alfie would’ve already had them spitting out teeth. Instead, seething, he strides right out and cuts off her path, forcing her to face him.

He's so mad at her doubt that he doesn't stop to consider that she's blinking faster than normal, doesn't pause and think about why she’s so upset. Instead, his anger obstructs his usual sense of deliberation, boiling over and spilling out his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Right, sweetie, you keep goin’ off ‘bout things of which you have no actual fuckin’ comprehension of, yeah. And I will do what I always do, right, and handle my business, same as any other fuckin’ day, so there’s really no need to be a cunt ‘bout this.”

It takes Alfie about two seconds to process what he just said, and his stomach drops.

“Oh, fuck.”

He sees distinct hurt flash across Annie’s face, looking very well like he just slapped her, before it quickly morphs into an expression he knows quite well, having worn it often.

Rage.

Now, for once, Alfie is the one backpedaling in a conversation.

“Fuck, An, I didn’t mean-"

“So now I’m a cunt, huh? Because I dared to tell you that I think you’re making a shit decision, one that could get you killed?” She hisses as her green eyes brim with angry tears, but she steadies herself, venom laced in every breath. “Well, if I’m such a cunt, maybe you’re better off finding someone else who isn’t one, someone who doesn’t give a fuck ‘bout what you do. Is that what you want?”

No, no, no, fucking no. Time screeches to a halt as Alfie's whole world crashes down around him. Icy fear douses his anger — would she really end things with him over this? She wouldn’t … right? Or did his temper just blow up the best part of his life in a matter of seconds?

Now, he’s really panicking.

“No, Annie, fuck, c’mon. Let’s just talk ‘bout this. I am fuckin’ sorry, yeah? You know I didn’t mean-"

“Just fuck off, Alfie. I'm going for a walk.”

She dodges his attempt to grab her hand and he lets it fall to his side, numb with shock as he watches her take her jacket off its hook and leave with a slam of the front door.

The silence in her wake is deafening, leaving nothing to distract Alfie from the presence of his suffocating guilt and his fear.

“FUCK!” He roars and turns on his heel, pacing and running his hands through his hair. He kicks over an end table, the resulting crash prompting Cyril to let out a low rumble in the corner.

Alfie drops to the ground, hitting his head against the back of the couch. Why, why, fucking why couldn’t he have just stayed calm and asked her why she was so upset that he’d be working with the Russians? Why did he let his ego get the best of him and shoot his mouth off, telling her he wasn’t asking for permission? And a proper bastard he was, most definitely deserving of his place in hell, calling her a cunt.

It makes him feel sick thinking about it, and he runs his hands down his face. He has to fix this, he can’t lose Annie.

He sits there for about 10 minutes, gears whirring in his head. The only comfort he has comes from petting Cyril, who decided to rest his head on his owner’s knee.

Suddenly, the phone rings. He heaves himself up and heads into his study, praying it’s Annie calling from wherever the hell she ended up and telling him she doesn’t feel like walking home in the dark, that they can talk, that things will be ok between them. That she doesn't hate him, that he didn't just ruin his whole life.

“‘Yeah?”

“Alfie, you need to come down to the bakery."

Alfie grits his teeth at Ollie's voice on the line.

“Not a good fuckin' time, mate, what happened?”

“Noah was out on a drop, and when he came back, someone.” Ollie pauses, seemingly steeling himself to press on. “Someone broke into your office. We dunno how they got in, or what they took."

And that’s the last straw. Alfie slams the phone down on his desk, cursing at the top of his lungs as the culmination of everything going on sends him punching a hole straight through the drywall.

Chest heaving, he cracks his knuckles and storms back to the phone.

"Right, have the boys sweep the rest of the shop, ask the neighbors if they saw anythin', pay 'em if you need to, I don't fuckin' care. Handle this shit, Ollie, otherwise the fuck good are ya?"

"They’re already looking, and yeah, of course. When will you be down?"

Alfie sighs, looking at his watch.

"Gimme a half hour, yeah?" He chooses his next words carefully, telling the truth but not all of it. "I'm waitin' for Annie to come home.”

"Right. See you."

Alfie hangs up and leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

“Fuck me,” he sighs, wrenching open the bottom desk drawer to pull out a three-quarters-full bottle of whiskey. Alfie rarely drank, but if there was ever a time to take the edge off, it’s definitely now.

The next 30 minutes crawl by as Alfie sits alone in the study with nothing but the burn of alcohol on his throat, each forward motion of the hand on his watch intensifying the ache in his chest. Was Annie even going to come back, or was she pissed off enough to spend the night alone in her apartment?

He shrugs his jacket and hat on and grabs a pen and paper, taking his sweet time writing out his note in case he hears the lock turn.

"Waited for you for nearly an hour, got a call from Ollie to come to the bakery. Shouldn't be too long, but don't wait up. Let's talk tomorrow before you go to work, yeah? I love you more than anything, and I swear there are no words in any fucking language to convey how sorry I am for hurting you.”

He leaves the note on the entryway table, and as he leaves his house and drives over to the warehouse, he can't stop himself searching for her in every passing face.

—

Six shots echo as Alfie unloads his revolver on two barrels of rum to stop himself from racking up a new tally on his body count.

It turned out that, in their brief neighborhood investigation, his best pair of idiots had discovered that the "dangerous thief" who'd broken into Alfie's office was not a fellow gangster, not a law enforcement official, no. It was a sniveling pre-teen punk whose equally punk friends dared him to break into the business and steal some rum from Alfie's office. And that's exactly what he did, confessing to the Jewish duo with his ear pinched firmly between his irate mother's fingers.

Ollie and Noah seemed to have been voted as the ones to have to give him this news, which they stammer out to him, everyone averting his rabid gaze. Their fear only intensifies when Alfie takes two steps closer to them, his voice quiet, deadly.

"So, what you are tellin' me is that ya called me down from me house, right, all because you daft fuckin' imbeciles got bested by some jumped-up lil' twat whose balls have yet to even fuckin' descend? That right?"

No one responds until Alfie pulls out his gun, with everyone except Ollie automatically stepping back.

"That's right," Ollie mutters, eyes flickering up to finally meet Alfie's.

And Alfie grunts and turns in the same breath, shooting directly into the barrels.

"Clean this shit up or the next round will be goin' into flesh, you fuckin' hear me?" he shouts.

He leaves his men scrambling as he stomps down the hall, slamming the door behind him. He stops for half a second on the street, leaning against the brick wall with his eyes closed, his attention immediately swinging back to more pressing matters: Annie.

He pushes off the wall and gets into his car, his brain switching gears as he heads to the florist's (yeah, it was 8:00 at night, but if the King of Camden needs something, especially post-argument flowers for his girlfriend, you can bet he's getting them) and then home.

—

He unlocks the door and walks in, his heart sinking at the sight of the empty sitting room.

“An?”

But as he turns to set down the sunflowers he got her, he sees the note he left is gone.

Relief courses through him like a drug. Annie must have seen it. She came back. She came back to him.

Sending up a silent "thank you" to the heavens, Alfie continues down the hall, stopping in the doorframe of his bedroom.

There she is, his Annie, curled up with Cyril and fast asleep in bed. He knows it's early, but he can tell she isn’t faking it by how deeply she’s breathing. All he wants to do is wake her up, climb in next to her, hold her, tell her he’s a fucking idiot and that he’ll drop the Russian deal in a second, do whatever it takes to make things right between them.

But, he also knows that, if Annie, with all of her endless energy, has crashed this early, she's got to be as emotionally wiped out as he is. So, as much as it pains him, he just kisses her forehead and heads out to the couch. It's like he's missing a limb, not having her by his side. But like Annie, he's exhausted, and sleep finds him quickly.

—

Alfie's eyes blink open and he's initially confused by his surroundings before his brain catches up, reminding him why he didn't sleep in his own bed last night.

But he relaxes, because at least he has the chance to talk to Annie before she heads to work.

Or, does he?

Because he’s blinking in bright, clear sunlight, and he knows Annie is usually up well before the crack of dawn. He frantically searches through his rumpled clothes for his watch, squinting at the numbers blurred without the use of his glasses.

Fuck. It's already 7:30. He flings himself up off the couch and when he gets to his bedroom, it's indeed empty. He's missed her, and his panic picks up right where it left off.

"What if she actually didn't see the fuckin' note? What if she thinks I was fuckin' angry at her, and that's why I was on the fuckin' couch last night?"

His stomach drops, and he drags his hands down his face. He has to see her -- there's no way in hell he'll make it through his own day of work with this looming over his head.

He doesn't even bother to change, just grabs his gun and keys, kicks his feet into his boots, jams his hat on, and he’s out the door.

—

After the world's worst paralell parking job, Alfie hurries into the bakery and down the familiar path to the kitchen door. He pushes it ajar gingerly and, when nothing is thrown at him, decides it's safe to proceed.

The usual organized chaos of Annie’s world meets him, her handful of all-women employees chatting animatedly as they knead, roll, and decorate. The air is heavy with the scent of dough and sugar, mixing with the warmth of the ovens.

But what lacks its usual warmth is Annie's gaze when she turns and sees him, something mirrored by her loyal employees who all stop what they’re doing to collectively hurl daggers at him with their eyes.

"So much for keepin' this between the two of us," he thinks darkly, but he also doesn't really blame Annie. Her normal bubbliness seems so off that it'd only be natural for her team to ask what was wrong. And it probably didn't help that Annie was a shit liar.

“Hey, pet.”

“Hi.” Her voice is flat, but Alfie takes it as a good sign that she's at least acknowledging him. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

He shakes his head, tries to swallows down his guilt.

“Nah, no way I could focus knowin’ how we left things last night. You were sleepin’ when I came home and I missed ya leavin’ this mornin'. He lowers his voice, a pleading note creeping in. “Love, we gotta talk.”

Seemingly with eyes on the back of her head, Annie lightly shoos the other bakers with her hands, prompting them to sheepishly direct their attention back to their work instead of at their boss and her boyfriend.

Annie sighs and starts forcibly working her dough.

“What else do you wanna talk about? You’re gonna work with the Russians." Slam. "You called me a cunt." Slam. "That’s that, innit?”

Alfie gestures at the mishappen pile of dough.

“And I apologized, right, but do you honestly expect me to believe you've moved passed it when you're attackin' that thing like it owes ya money?" He tries his luck and places his hand gently along her waist. She doesn't flinch at his touch like she did the night before, but she doesn't look at him.

"Listen, I really am sorry, Annie. And if it means that much to ya, I’ll drop the deal. But I need to know why’re you so hung up on me workin' with the Russians. All me work is dangerous, innit, you know that. Why is this different?”

Annie doesn't answer him, just finishes kneading and moves onto the next unbaked pile. “I’m busy, Alfie,” she mutters.

“Never stopped you talkin’ to me before.”

Now, she does look at him, frustrated. “Can we please just talk later? I don’t want to do this here, yeah?"

But Alfie meant what he told her -- there was no way he would be able to relax until things were right with them.

He steeples his hands and brings them to his lips, ring-clad fingers tapping together. "Ya don’t wanna talk here, eh?” Then, he pivots and strides out the kitchen door and out the bakery, leaving a confused Annie in his wake.

He gets back to his car and revs it with purpose, managing to extract it from where he jammed it against the curb and grazes the delivery truck behind him. Then, he whips the vehicle out into the middle of traffic … where he parks.

"This is mad, mate. But I guess that's love, innit," he murmurs to himself. He steps out, ignoring the beeps and honks from traffic around him, locks his gaze on the door of Annie's shop, and holds down the horn.

It works as he intends, with Annie appearing at the door in about 10 seconds. She comes outside, jaw dropping slightly when she realizes his angle.

“Right, this is a much better place to chat!” he shouts across the street, giving a flouncy wave to a car that angrily streaks passed him.

“ALFRED ELIJAH SOLOMONS, have you COMPLETELY lost your fucking mind?!” she screams back. With the look on her face, Alfie wouldn’t be surprised if she stormed right up and decked him (which he deserves, if he's honest), but he holds firm.

“Nah, I am thinkin’ crystal bloody clear, An. I fucked up and I ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘till we work this out!"

Annie just glares back, her gaze flickering between him, the traffic, and the passerby who've now gathered to see what was going on.

“With God as my witness, I will stand here all fuckin’ day if that's what it takes, love,” he adds.

Annie lets out an exasperated yell, throwing up her hands in resignation and striding toward the car, weaving between vehicles.

"You are an absolute bloody-" she stops as she nearly gets clipped by a taxi, and she and Alfie flip the driver off in unison as she lets out a littany of Irish curses before seamlessly switching back to English.

"An absolute bloody maniac, you hear me, waking up half of Camden and blocking traffic from here to High Street!” She slides into the car, slamming it shut, and Alfie follows suit, taking off down the street.

“Desperate times, desperate bloody measures, innit?” he replies.

Annie shakes her head and crosses one arm tightly against her chest, the other balling into a fist against her cheek.

It's probably only a few seconds, but her silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity to Alfie. But then, Annie does something completely unexpected.

She laughs.

And she keeps laughing, loud and bright and infectious, and now Alfie's chuckling with her. His chest can't help but feel lighter in response to his favorite sound in the entire world.

“Oh my God, I cannot believe you did that just so I’d talk to you," she says, wiping away tears of mirth with the back of her hand. “My ma always did say love made people do crazy things. I guess I just didn’t know that would mean being in a standoff in the middle of traffic.”

Alfie pulls over, completing another truly atrocious parking job, tires screeching. And when he turns to look at Annie, this time, her usual warmth is back in her face. He responds instinctively, grabbing her hand with his, and she squeezes it, and it’s like he can finally breathe again.

"We’re both ridiculous, aren’t we?"

“Lil’ bit,” he replies, and they both speak in unison:

“I’m sorry.”

Annie shakes her head. “No, no, you already apologized, and I know you meant it. This is. A lot of this is on me,” she sighs. “We should’ve just talked, I was being petty. Did it hurt that you called me a cunt? Yeah. Will I knock your head in if it happens again? Yeah. But is that what I was really the most upset over? No."

She bites her lip and stares up at the roof of the car.

"You asked me why I didn’t want you working with the Russians, that all your work is dangerous. And I get that. But it's usually work with the devil you know, innit? Or even if it’s the devil you don’t know, it’s not the devil who ran your ma and fuck knows how many other Jews and Gypsies just like me and you outta their country. People who slaughter us and hate us just for breathing the same air as them."

She fiddles with the frayed edge of her apron, hesitating.

"And I got scared," she says quietly. "Scared of what they might do to you. I don't know if I've said this right out, but after Cal … it’s my worst fear, losing you. I’m not daft, I know that your line of work heightens that probability, but I also know people 'round here generally don’t fuck with you. But Russian oligarchs, that's a whole different level. One that made it seem that much more likely that you wouldn't come back.”

Her voice breaks, and all Alfie wants to do is scoop her up in his arms, but with the spatial restrictions of the car, he settles for gently rubbing her shoulder.

She leans back on the headrest and turns slightly, locking tear-filled eyes on his.

"Then it felt like you didn’t care what I thought, so, I lost it. I don’t want to tell you what to do or have you think I don’t trust you, because I do. But, what if you get seriously hurt or fucking killed, and I didn’t say anything that could’ve stopped it from happening. But I also hate fighting with you and I don’t ever want to see you with anyone else, I never should’ve said that. So, I'm really, really sorry.”

Fuck, he loves her so much. And on one hand, he's ecstatic that they're working things out, but on the other, his heart aches from the realization that he didn't consider how his decision to only tell her the bare minimum, to cut her out of having a say in his work -- his attempt to keep her as far away from it as possible -- actually made things harder for her.

“Oh, An. You got nothin’ to apologize for, dove,” he replies softly. “Let's get outta this bloody car so I can give you a proper hug, yeah?"

She nods and they get out, and he pulls her into a bear hug as soon as she’s in range, more appreciative than ever of the warmth and feel of her body against his.

As their embrace ends, he tilts her chin up.

“Right, you need to know somethin', darlin’. Losin’ you is my worst fear, too. I was out of me head yesterday, thinkin’ I pushed you too far and you weren’t gonna come back. Thinkin’ to myself, 'Alfie, did you truly just fuckin' destroy the most beautiful and best part of your entire existence over business with the bloody Russians?'”

He shakes his head and her hands find his.

“So, I got a taste of what that worry and waitin' must be like for ya most days, didn't I? And I'm sorry for causin' it." He sighs. "I know I can’t promise what’s gonna happen in me work — like ya said, there’s always a chance that I’ll need those talented hands of yours to stitch me up."

Clasping her fingers in his, he brings them to his lips, and she gives him a small smile as he continues.

"But what I can guarantee is this: no matter what I'm workin' on, I will always, I repeat, always, have a multitude of plans and schemes in this ol’ head of mine for doin' whatever the fuck needs to be done to get back home to you, An. That’s a promise I can keep. Non-fuckin’-negotiable. With that bein’ said, if you’re still more worried than usual about me doin’ somethin’ you think is mad, I'm perfectly happy to share those elaborate plans with you, and I promise to at least hear ya out, and we can talk ‘bout it like rational adults instead of me bein’ properly shitty with ya. How’s that?”

“That's all I want. Thank you." She kisses him and keeps her arms around his neck, her hands stroking through his hair. "So, what's that brain of yours come up with this time?"

Alfie grins. "Well, me favorite scenario can't be properly sorted, right, until I get there, because it will involve taking a careful inventory of which illicit substances are available that can be used to sudbue an unsavory foe in a pinch." He nudges her, and she just runs her hand down her face, torn between relief and amusement. "Ya know what I mean?"

"No. But, strangely, I'm alright with that," she replies. "You just be safe, yeah, and go on with those plans of yours, love. I trust you, just still don’t trust a bunch of Russian cunts." Her tone gets mischievous. "Now that's a proper use for that word, innit?"

Alfie chuckles darkly. "Yeah, I'd say so."

Annie's smile grows. "And speaking of promises, I didn’t forget that you promised me something properly dazzling out of this.”

“Right I did, my gorgeous girl.” He nuzzles into her and she giggles, smacking him lightly as his beard tickles against her skin.

“When you leaving?” she asks.

“Gotta make sure shit’s squared up at the bakery and then I’ll head out late afternoon. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

She nods and grabs his shoulders, pulling him into a hard kiss that he responds to in kind, a tangible affirmation of his devotion, of being driven by his need to find his way back to her. Back to where he's home.

He rests his head on her forehead.

"Mine," she murmurs.

"Yours," he replies. And he, the King of Camden Town, knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that the title of being hers is the greatest one he'll ever hold.

—

Hampton Court

Everything really was going according to plan -- Alfie hadn't even considered his narcotic-fueled back-up option yet. He fully expected the Russians to bind him until Tommy's arrival, and he knew he had free rein over the selection and Tommy wouldn't argue. Because what kind of idiot wouldn't listen to his trusted jeweler?

Had he not had Alfie and Cyril waiting for him at home, Alfie very well may have considered just staying in that cellar and choking to death on sapphires. The jewelry and gems are exquisite. He surveys them with genuine interest, haggles the value with Isabella, and tosses them on the table. He finds a rhythym as he works through piles of earrings and bracelets, opals and rubies, all gorgeous -- but nothing that says "Annie."

And then he sees it: A diamond necklace with an emerald pendant encircled in miniature ornate suns and flowers.

He gives a low whistle. "Fuckin' hell. That's perfect, that is," he murmurs with a grin, holding up his prize to Tommy. "Whatcha think, Tommy, suits Annie well, yeah?"

Tommy's cool gaze warms the slightest bit as he gives a tiny nod, which Alfie takes as a glowing endorsement.

Alfie gestures to Isabella. “Give ya 10."

"12," she counters.

Alfie rolls his eyes. "11, then."

She looks like she’s about to argue, when Tommy's cool voice cuts her off.

“Let’s say 11, shall we?”

She hesitates for a second but under Tommy's steady gaze, nods curtly. Alfie places Annie's present on the table, noticeably gentler than he's been with the other jewelry.

"Who is Annie?" Tatiana asks.

"A breathtaking feminine creature descended from the most high and most beautiful goddesses themselves, whose radiance would put these here gems to right fuckin' shame," Alfie replies, not looking up from the pearl necklace he’s now examining with his eyeglass.

Tommy translates. "His woman."

"Ah," Tatiana responds, a slight smirk playing at her red lips. She turns to Isabella, the pair speaking openly in Russian.

"That must be one dumb goddess, fucking a rum-soaked Jew."

Alfie’s fist clenches around the necklace, and he looks up at Tatiana.

"Nah, sweetheart, my Annie has more intelligence in one beautiful brain cell of hers than the fuckin’ lot of you combined.” He smirks as she and Isabella exchange startled looks.

“But you are correct in that I am a rum-soaked Jew, but there is a good reason for that. Because my shop, right, is just above a rum house."

"You speak Russian?" Tatiana asks, bewildered.

"Yeah, I do, 'cause of me mum. And you people,” he pauses, glaring individually at each aristocrat. “Right, you hunted my mum with dogs. Through the snow.” The two women shift uncomfortably, and Leon averts his gaze.

Alfie takes a breath and rests his palms flat against the table.

“But back to the point at hand. If you, or you, or you, say anythin' about Annie, the love of my wretched life, yeah, in Russian, or English, or any other fuckin' language, we will have to cut this lovely ol' time we are havin' together short, because I quite simply will not tolerate it.”

Silence fills the dark room, expansive and pressing. Just as Tommy finally starts to open his mouth to break the tension, Alfie speaks, abruptly switching to a breezy tone.

“But who wants that, eh? Today is about forgiveness, innit? Now.” He sits down and claps his hands together. “Do you have any eggs?”

—

Even with the throbbing pain in his hip from the long drive back to Camden, Alfie has a spring in his step as he opens his front door, excited to see Annie.

He lumbers down the hall, softening at the familiar sound of Annie strumming on her guitar. He can already see it: her bare feet draped over the edge of the couch, reclining slightly and humming to herself as she plays.

The music stops as his footsteps get nearer.

"Ah, is that your da, sweet boy? Go get him!"

And as he rounds the corner, he's met with the full force of Cyril, nearly taking him out at the knees.

"Christ, mate, lemme at least sit down first before you try to kill me," he says sternly, but he scratches Cyril's ear with as much affection as ever.

And again, Alfie is nearly taken down by the force of an object barreling into him -- but this time, it's Annie.

"It's good to see you too, love," he wheezes out, and Annie slackens her vice grip of a hug.

"Sorry!" She beams up at him and gives him the kind of fervent kiss that leaves him struggling to string his thoughts together. "As you can tell, you were missed. Everything go ok?”

He's busy running his eyes and hands over her, but he snaps back to attention. “Hm. Right. Yeah, just peachy, truly, love. No illicit substances used on my end. You were right though, they sure did hate my oppressed, 'rum-soaked' guts."

Annie lets out a strangled noise like a growl, but it makes Alfie smile.

"Appreciate it, my ferocious girl, but it's all done and over with." He cups her face in his ring-adorned hands, tucks an escaped strand from her messy braid back behind her ear. "No more worryin' in that pretty little head of yours tonight, yeah?"

"Fair enough."

"Good. Now, I am a man who keeps his promises. And I believe I promised ya somethin' properly dazzlin'. That sound right?"

Annie grins and plops herself back down on the couch, and Alfie follows suit. "That does check out on my end."

Alfie pivots, feigning confusion. "Hm, or maybe I'm misrememberin'. That does happen, see, to old bastards like me as Father Time unleashes his steady and unyielding wrath upon us poor souls."

"No, no, no, I know your head has not gone to complete mush just yet."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, An," he grumbles, and she just giggles. "Close your eyes, yeah?"

She obliges as he reaches into his jacket pocket, carefully extracting out the delicate necklace and tucking it into her hand.

“Holy shit!" she exclaims, her green eyes open and widening with delight. "They really let you, my beloved rum-soaked Jew, walk out alive with this?"

"Ya like it?"

"I love it. It's absolutely beautiful. Thank you."

She beckons and he clambers over to her, taking the necklace from her to fix the clasp behind her neck, which he brushes with his lips.

"Course. God knows you deserve it, dove, puttin' up with all my nonsense."

"Hey, anytime you decide you want to further an apology with diamonds, you're not gonna hear a complaint outta me." She traces the necklace with her fingers, dipping down just above her breasts, and she tilts her head.

"I do think it’d look even better, though, without these clothes in the way. But I defer to your judgment, you being the expert jeweler and all."

Alfie immediately pulls her into his lap, eager hands guiding her sweater up and over her shoulders. Now, it's his turn to trace the necklace, arousal pulsing through his veins as he brings his lips to her breastbone, works his way up her neck.

“I think you have a very, very discerning eye, love," he murmurs, hands running down her thighs. "And I'm a very, very lucky man."

She grabs his jaw and tilts his head up, his blue eyes burning through hers. "And don't you forget it, Alfie Solomons."

And after everything that's happened, Alfie knows he won't.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons angst #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #tom hardy

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anthurak · 1 year

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I’ve talked before about one of the big reasons I DON’T think Loona and Octavia are actually going to have the straightforward ‘wholesome sisterly relationship’ that a lot of fans seem to have latched onto and might be expecting. But more than that, I’d like to talk about the main reason why I just don’t like this interpretation of Loona and Octavia, at least outside of AU settings, and why I don’t think we should be expecting it from the show itself.

What I feel a lot of fans don’t seem to quite grasp is that possibly the greatest strength of Helluva Boss’s character writing is the use of contrast.

Helluva Boss is a show set in actual Hell, with all of the misery and torment that implies, and that’s not even going into how Hell is deliberately written as a dystopic, crapsack world to live in. Our main characters are a company of assassins, hired killers who murder humans for a simple paycheck. And most of them are fairly miserable people with deep-seated traumas and very messy and dysfunctional relationships.

But it is precisely all that negativity which those positive emotional moments hit all the harder. It’s what makes Moxie’s and Millie’s relationship seem all the more special and wholesome when it seems like they are the only couple in Hell to have found such a genuinely and unconditionally loving and HAPPY relationship. It’s what makes the times Blitzo is able to genuinely bond with Loona and the M&Ms or Stolas is able to connect with his daughter feel special because it’s clear this is NOT an easy thing for them to do.

So if we start trying to ‘sand off the edges’ and downplay the uglier, painful problems that our characters are dealing with, or even try to pretend they don’t even exist, then we start depriving these characters of precisely the things that make their successes so meaningful. Like the big thing that makes Blitzo’s and Stolas’s relationships with each other and their respective daughters so compelling and interesting is BECAUSE these two are such utter disastrous WRECKS as both parents and people in general. Of course, that’s not to say they have to STAY miserable and dysfunctional messes in order to stay interesting. Just that the way they should be getting out of this mess should be through hard-earned character development and not simply having the writers or audience wipe the problems away and pretend they don’t exist just to create some arbitrary ‘wholesome family dynamic’.

The whole reason Loona’s and Octavia’s scene together in this latest episode hits as well as it does is because we know what both these girls have been through. We’ve seen the kind of trauma and baggage they’re both carrying around. So when they finally find SOMEONE who they can truly relate to, someone who they know actually GETS what they are going through, it hits SO much harder. We’ve seen Loona be this very mean, confrontational, incredibly abrasive and extremely guarded person who seems to can’t help but keep both a physical and emotional distance from basically everyone she meets. So when we see her finally let her guard down and show this incredible openness, empathy and warmth to Octavia, it makes both the scene and the blossoming friendship between these two feel all the more special.

And this all leads back to my issue with how a lot of the fandom seems to expect Loona, Octavia, Blitzo and Stolas to form some straightforward wholesome, homogenous family unit.

Because that’s just NOT the kind of show this is.

Everything we’ve seen of Helluva Boss paints this show as the story of people with a LOT problems. Hang-ups, baggage, deep-seated traumas and dysfunctional relationships. Yet it also seems to be the story about how those people yearn for happiness and fulfillment, and can one day even find that happiness. That certainly seems to be the story the show is playing out with Blitzo and Stolas.

Helluva Boss seems to be a show about people finding themselves in weird, unconventional and even dysfunctional relationships, yet ultimately finding a way to turn those relationships into some happy and fulfilling. I mean, just look at the M&Ms. The whole narrative point of Moxie’s and Milly’s relationship is to show these two oddballs in the middle of actual Hell who nonetheless clearly couldn’t be happier with each other. Despite all conventional wisdom of those around them, these two have found a way to make their relationship WORK.

And it’s for that reason that I just don’t see Blitzo and Stolas winding up with some straightforward ‘happily ever after’ where they’re married and raising their two daughters like a lot of the fandom seems to be expecting/hoping. Can these two ultimately be happy together? Of course. It’s just going to take a whole lot of WORK from both of them. And it’s NOT going to be easy OR pretty. And I highly doubt it’s going to end with Blitzo and Stolas forming some idyllic nuclear family with their daughters.

Like that’s not even touching on the fact that Loona and Octavia are clearly NOT kids anymore. Loona is already freaking 22 and the story seems to be view Octavia MUCH more as a young adult than ‘just a kid’ (more on that in an upcoming post). So by the time Blitzo and Stolas are able to work out an actually happy, healthy relationship, they’re NOT going to be two dads raising two daughters, but rather two dads with GROWN-UP daughters who have probably figured out their own lives independent of their dads.

I do think we are ultimately going to see Blitzo and Stolas in a genuinely happy relationship together, and find a healthy, functional relationship with their daughters. It’s just not going to be tight-knit family unit that I think a lot of the fandom is expecting.

#helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #blitzo #stolas goetia #loona #helluva loona #octavia goetia #moxxie #millie #helluva millie #helluva moxxie #stolitz #rambling about the value of tonal contrast #rambling on how fandom can get too fixated on everything being sweet and wholesome

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yeetlegay · 2 years

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this is not me trying to be a hater but I do struggle to understand why porsche loves kinn, because I feel more often than not, kinn had been aloof and so cruel towards him. i 100% understand why kinn loves porsche but not the other way round. what’s your take on this? what do you think porsche loves about kinn?

This is a hard question to answer, because I think explaining "why" you're in love with someone is next to impossible most of the time. Sometimes we just...are. Lasting love has to endure a lot of change (personalities, circumstances, tragedy, etc.) and what you love about a person will almost definitely change too.

Porsche has suffered a lot because of Kinn, but he's also seen so much underneath the mask Kinn presents to the world. He was seeing hints of the real Kinn as early as episode 2, when Kinn put on a show of punishing him in order to protect him from the minor family. And those layers just kept being pushed back episode by episode. He saw Kinn pull him out of the way of a bullet (twice now), tend his wound, open up about feeling trapped in his role and the trauma of what he's had to do to stay in power.

I think the fact that Porsche knew pretty early on that Kinn sees him as special (he's the only one who gets Kinn kisses, and good for him) really made him open his eyes to catch more of those little slips. Essentially, seeing all the tiny ways Kinn repeatedly shows his hand, how much he really wears his heart on his sleeve in spite of his best efforts, made Porsche look more closely at him.

I've talked pretty extensively about how much Porsche craves belonging and even ownership (especially here and here) so I won't rehash it here, but prior to episode five, Porsche's feelings for Kinn are way messier and more tied to his emotional needs than specifically romantic ones. He's a fish out of water looking for stability, for care and attention, and he naturally gravitates toward Kinn to get that. It's a kind of attraction, yes, and there are definitely some feelings there, but nothing as simple and straightforward as what Kinn feels for him at that point. (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Kinn fell fast but Porsche fell harder.)

The forest, in my opinion, is where Porsche's feelings go beyond that. He needed to see Kinn without that mask, that armor, to know if he was someone Porsche actually liked at the end of the day. He got to see Kinn at his happiest, his most honest, his most vulnerable. He got to see all the ways they’re alike, how well they complement each other and understand each other without the structural barriers between them. He got to hear firsthand how much Kinn gave up to be the person he needed to be for the sake of the people he loves. He got to see how selfless and good Kinn is underneath it all, and when Kinn took the bullet meant for him, he got to see exactly how far Kinn would go for him, exactly how much Porsche meant to him.

Seeing how Kinn loves is what made Porsche fall in love.

#kinnporsche #yeetle asks #why don’t queue stay #I'm super biased bc I adore Kinn and relate to him on a really personal level #so I hope this doesn't read as me erasing all the shit he's pulled bc my man has really not been on his best behavior a lot of the time!#like he deserved that slap and probably another one for good measure!#but he tries so fucking hard for Porsche #and the growth he's had since ep 1 is STAGGERING

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elia-de-silentio · 2 years

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THE METAMORPHOSIS OF NOE’ ARCHIVISTE

I have an admission: I never particularly liked the so-called ‘cinnamon rolls’. They’re the pure characters, the goody-two shoes, nice, always loving, who never get angry (tenderly upset at most), want to save everybody, uwu, protectatallcosts … and not much else in the way of personality. They often end up as the blandest in the character cast.

When they’re given some depth, it’s often to show that they’re hypocrites and actually the exact opposite of what they present themselves as, absolute bastards with no redeeming traits; an archetype that often ends up just as stereotyped and flat as the ‘pure’ version.

That’s why, when I find a Cinnamon Roll that’s well and truly good and kind, and at the same time has darker characteristics that make them a multidimensional character, I tend to absolutely love them. This is the case of Noé Archiviste.

Noé starts out as the most straightforward Cinnamon Roll: he’s nice and polite to Amelia, he rushes to adorably stamp himself on the glass when they first get in sight of the city (revealing he had a sheltered, country upbringing in the meanwhile), and when Vanitas ambiguously rushes on the scene, appearently attacking Amelia, he chivalrously runs to defend the distressed damsel. Said damsel ends up using him as a snack, but it’s the thought that matters.

Right after, he saves Vanitas from the fall, with a little aside to muse on the beauty of a moon that most vampires consider a bad omen; something he did even when he was little. Back to Vanitas, he wouldn’t want to help him, initially, because he doesn’t like him, something he says with an utterly candid honesty; but further talking with Amelia and remembering why his elusive Teacher sent him to Paris to begin with change his mind (on helping, not on Vanitas).

But between the Loup Garou and the Bal Masqué arcs, here appears an interesting characteristic of Noé: a tendency to place people into slots. Vanitas, who introduced himself as someone who could save vampires from Malnomen, was promptly labelled as someone who could never fail, as per his own words. When it happened, or at least it happened in the eyes of Noé, and they stumbled upon a cursebearer too far gone to be cured and could only be mercy killed, Noé snapped.

But he himself realized his mistake. Vanitas never promised him anything, it was him who pushed his expectations on the other. He acts as the most stable person in the asylum that is VnC: he goes to Vanitas and apologizes, declaring his interest in actually following and helping him, as a person, not as a savior on a pedestal.

In the Catacombs Arc, he has his first very serious argument with Vanitas. The reason is quite simple: he was lecturing Vanitas on the fact that he was weak and so shouldn’t have exposed himself to danger; this paired with putting himself at risk to protect him. Classical heroic behavior, except that it pisses off Vanitas to no end.

The doctor - who, unknowingly to Noé, is currently fighting against an onslaught of horrible memories and trauma - explodes at him, to the point of calling him slurs, and going on a tirade against ‘people who are strong, but make themselves weak’, meaning those who will sacrifice themselves for the sake of others.

Now, Noé really didn’t expect such a reaction, but if there’s one thing we can say about him, is that he learns. From that moment onward, he never again treats Vanitas like some frail little creature, instead regarding him as an equal. At least explicitly, we’ll get there in a moment.

So, Noé concludes his role in the Catacombs Arc all heroic and ispirational. Next thing he does, is falling headfirst in a very obvious trap Ruthven set up for him. He likely didn’t expect it, not from someone in such a respectable position as a Senator, playing well into the classical naivete of a Cinnamon Roll; but it resulted in a mistake that now puts him under Ruthven’s control, and he doesn’t even know it.

During the Gevaudan Arc, he once again tries to play nice against an enemy: he finds himself in front of Astolfo, a mere fifteen-years-old, but a fifteen-years-old who’s hell-bent on killing him and actually has the means to do so. This wouldn’t mean he would be easily capable to defeat Noé, but our resident Cinnamon Roll is too busy trying not to hurt the kid to put up a proper fight.

The one to set him straight is Vanitas, the one who had previously faced Astolfo by playing absolutely lurid with psychological warfare. He points out that his life is in danger, and in their current situation they can’t allow themselves any weakness: Noé needs to stop having care for child adversaries, and fight at his full capacity. Please set aside this teaching for later.

Admittedly, Noé is kind of on the sidelines for the Gevaudan arc. This isn’t to say that he doesn’t do anything, but still he doesn’t receive the same level of focus as Chloé or Jeanne; this is basically their arc. He mainly reacts to what is going on around him: he expresses shock at Chloé’s appearent decision to side with Naenia, pities Jean-Jacques, runs around trying to protect and save Vanitas. All good, ‘appropriate’ reactions to what’s happening.

And he takes Vani’s advice on how to fight Astolfo very seriously. He finally gives his … most, because at the end of it, the kid is still standing, with most of his wounds due to abusing the Chasseur’s drug.

Then the Amusement Park arc happens. And oh boy, if our Cinnamon Roll isn’t shaken to the core.

First, his childhood friend is placed in danger, bringing the trauma from Louis’ death in the forefront of his mind; then he is forced into a blood-drinking he doesn’t want, by a child of all things; then he finds himself in front of Vanitas, who loses the softer demeanor he has had this recent chapters and reverts back to his cold self, refusing to do anything to save the last friend Noé has. At this point, Misha orders him to fight Vanitas and forcibly drink his blood. And Noé does so.

Look how this ‘cinnamon roll’ is being portrayed right now: a disproportionated mass of fangs that lunges on. That’s the representation of a monster. Vanitas goes from ‘cold and detached’ to 'absolutely terrified' in the span of less than a second. He fights back, but this clash is uneven; the vampire can destroy the whole park with little to no effort, while Vanitas has to inject himself with the Chasseur drug just to avoid him.

What makes the whole situation even more interesting is Johan’s disgusted comment. He observes that Noé is strong, and confident in his strenght; he never really had to do whatever it takes just to stay alive, and that, not some particular moral superiority, is why he can play the benevolent part, the role of the one who won’t stoop to certain lows in a fight.

This allows the weaker Vanitas, who is used to fight tooth and nail to just survive, a margin of advantage; but it’s not definitive, and the situation isn’t truly resolved between the two, it’s resolved by Jeanne.

She ran up to the amusement park, saw the situation, basically undestood everything in a glance and 1) saved Dominique, removing the need for a conflict between Noé and Vanitas; 2) yelled at Noé to take a good look at his opponent, to ‘truly’ look at him. This proved to be vital: suddenly Noé realized the expression of absolute terror Vanitas had, and a split second later he saw his own expression in a mirror - one of absolute fury.

This clashes so much with the idea he has of himself, of who he wants to be, that he stops dead on his tracks and reconsiders the situation. Now lucid, he can get back at reflecting on his misgivings about Vanitas, about what he messed up and what he can do next, and go on to be the sensible, self sacrificing part in the fight.

This endangers his own life by a lot, but in the end, even the brainwashed Vanitas can’t bring himself to kill him, and ultimately collapses from the exaustion of the fight, the drugs and the emotional stress. The situation here is averted, and then Teacher arrives on the scene and distracts everyone with his mysteries.

Then, there is yet another rooftop confrontation between Noé and Vanitas, with a guest star appearence by an heavily bandaged Misha. It’s the first time we see both of our heroes so calm and collected, even talking things out (what’s this heresy?). It’s the scene where Vanitas drops the bomb: if he were to be killed, he would like to be killed by Noé. And our hero says nothing to this; but he leans on Vanitas, wordlessly showing him trust and then he helps him rise up, like he had done in the catacombs.

Now, the reason I find Noé so interesting is in two elements. The first can be expressed via Johan’s comment: Noé’s kindness is due in no small part to his own strength, to his underlying awareness that he is powerful and, should he fail the diplomatic strategy, he would probably win over most dissidents (especially those he already pegged as ‘weak’ like Vanitas) by sheer force. I mean, this is not a very charitable interpretation - it reeks of condescention a mile wide. Noé’s willingness to talk things out wouldn’t be born of (or at least, not entirely) actual respect for others and a love for pacific communication, but from a gracious concession, that can be revoked anytime.

It also gives him a disadvantage: when he thinks that his opponent is weaker (that is, most of the time), he gets concerned about them. He can’t be too rough on them, the poor little things wouldn’t be able to survive his might! And this comes to bite him in the ass because, as pointed out by Johann, when people fight believing that their life is in line, they give everything they’ve got, overpowering someone who’s techincally stronger but holding back.

So, there is this interesting little spin on the Cinnamon Roll who wants to resolve things by talking; it’s not a complete subversion, it’s an exploration on why he behaves like that and why this behaviour might not be inherently ‘pure’.

The second is the constant growth that is demanded of him. I’m used to stories where the Cinnamon Roll archetype starts out pretty much as good as he cana get and spends the plot turning people better by supporting them; at most, they must learn to Not Be So Naive.

The plot of The Case Study of Vanitas is Noé starting out as sheltered, recognizing that he is, and try to improve himself. Noé is constantly analizing his own behavior: he learned not to push his own expectations onto the others, he learned that people can have complex and painful backstories and that he can empathize with them, but he can also recognize their pain and decide that he can’t abide their behavior anyways. He is in the long, awkward process of trying to stop seeing other people as inherently frail and in need of his protection, but also stop seeing them as ‘not a problem, I can shut them up if I really want to’.

Personally, I don’t think that this will be the kind of story where the naive protagonist turns into Gruff Hardass one beating after the other. I think that by the end, Noé will have suffered a lot; he will have experienced even more traumas that those he already has, and get some more things to feel guilty about under his belt. But I don’t think he’ll ever lose his idealism. He might be tempted, but he’ll refuse to lose hope and become like Ruthven, turning into an ispiration for whomever survives of the current cast.

And with this, I think I exhausted this little and fairly pointless rant.

Thanks to anybody who bothered to read my ramblings!

#vnc #vanitas no carte #vanitas no shuki #the case study of vanitas #vnc meta #vnc analysis #vnc noe #vnc vanitas #vnc mikhail #vnc astolfo #elia's recaps #vnc teacher

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mejomonster · 2 years

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some reasons Love Between Fairy and Devil is good:

the music. we got a lovely opening/theme song, a Liu Yuning secondary song, and a nice mix of traditional romance xianxia sounding stuff (think Eternal Love soundtrack etc) and rock music (which I personally love when xianxia do this - Love and Redemption and Men with Sword did this, and The Untamed did this with Meng Yao’s theme song). Just overall a solid soundtrack

the looks. while still distinctly fitting the usual romance xianxia aesthetic (think Love and Redemption, Eternal Love, Ashes of Love), its also got some individuality. Its partly taking some western fantasy elf aesthetics, which may be why it reminds me of Ice Fantasy so much (Ice Fantasy’s costumes felt very much like xianxia and western fantasy mixing with the design choices). As a result, some outfits really uniquely stand out, different locations have more distinct looks both set and Clothing wise (and its nice to see different regions have their own distinct looking culture and identity to a degree). Haishi city, Cangyan Sea, Shuiyuntian, and Lucheng all look like their own places with their own clothing. Stand out costumes are worn by our boy Qingcang who has some very cool horn-wood-piece looking crowns, and the Shuiyuntian headpieces remind me in a good way of Ice Fantasy a Lot. This show looks distinct enough to have its own identity.

the writing. consistent, straightforward, with meaning. While the meaning isn’t particularly deep, very much like Love and Redemption the main love is partly attractive because he respects consent (which when its lacking in a romance xianxia i tend to hate it - however the second love interest is also fairly nice in this, in contrast to Love and Redemption’s quite horrifying Bai Lin). Consent and abuse are definitely themes in this - just look at Dongfang Qingcang’s dad and him. Also, themes of compassion. While Love and Redemption really hammered home you should figure out right and wrong for yourself, and make your own fate? This show goes with similar themes but in a much different way. Destiny is much more set in this show - and YET we open early on with Lanhua purposely going against Fate to go save Changheng, so her entire relationship with Qingcang is a result of her breaking fate. While that hasn’t come back to bite her yet, it definitely puts her on a path outside fate - despite fate seeming much move inevitable in this show. Likewise, in the mortal arc, both Lanhua and Qingcang immediately change the ‘necessary fate’ of the people they’re trying to keep ON fate’s path. So I imagine this isn’t the last fate versus personal choice will get highlighted. Meanwhile goodness is somewhat critiqued in the sense of hypocrites (like Love and Redemption). But instead, its more like there’s genuine goodness to all the regions populations, and genuine suffering they’ve all been through. While showcasing all areas as equally capable of good and evil is very Love and Redemption, the way this show does it is more on a level that reminds me a bit of Goodbye My Princess. We get to know each area, care about them, and see why its so hard for the characters to decide what to do that would be best for their people and the world at large. Its not so simple as LaR - the god of war Changheng is genuinely good and kind, with good goals (unlike Bai Lin in LaR), meanwhile Qingcang’s father was awful to him, but the ultimate goal his dad (and he has) to help their Cangyan Sea is understandable and also an attempt to help their people.

the romance. 1. absolutely love the acting (and they did great doing body swap scenes!) 2. the romance setup of ‘Big Bad’ guy as romantic lead i LOVE, of the commoner fairy who isn’t particularly strong and is not the ‘right noble class’ i LOVE (she might turn out to have some Important Identity but for the bulk of this story she’s very low power and treated as a nobody which I really like). They get along in a very nice way, its very “how do these characters interact” rather than feeling like tropes are forcing them together. The setup is literally just: orchid fairy accidentally saves Big Bad Type Character, and then Big Bad type due to a spell feels what she feels and more importantly HURTS if she hurts, so Big Bad has to care about her/help her for a little while. A very cool set up that reminds me of some big bad being forced to care for spiritual pet and learn life lessons as a result. But he’s not that bad, and she’s not threatening to him despite her control-option over him, so for the vast majority of time they just seem to have become ‘friends’ who mainly are caring about each other. I just. I can’t express how cute they are, how they just Work together. I am real picky about my xianxia, and my romance, and my Romance Xianxia, so all i can say is if I like it then they are doing a Lot right in how they write the characters.

the characters. Like Love and Redemption this show is doing some new stuff with some character types, although less in a ‘lets subvert these obvious expectations’ and more in a ‘lets keep what parts of the types we liked and leave the rest.’ which is very cool. I can see elements in these characters that i’ve seen in other xianxia, and also unique bits special to them in particular. The god of war has some characteristics i expect (he reminds me a bit of God of War in Eternal Love) but then he’s also a younger brother, also very emotional and kind, just very individual. Meanwhile the original God of War reminds me of Xuanji-god-of-war in Love and Redemption (but without the abuse and trauma making her) again but with some very unique characteristics. Orchid reminds me a bit of the lead heroine in Love and Destiny, but Orchid is very genuine in a way that almost feels down-to-earth Everyday person in a way xianxia heroines don’t always feel. She really does feel like a Nobody in her realm, instead of someone Somehow Most Beautiful and Talented and Amazing. Our ‘big bad type’ mold is not so mean at all, on paper he’s fulfilling the ‘Devil/Demon Emperor’ mold, but he’s also genuinely emotionless to start like Xuanji in Love and Redemption (just emotionless but does care for his people and want to do the Right thing as best as he understands), and like Xuanji he is gradually getting his feelings back. In part I think this show reminds me of Ice Fantasy to such a degree, because the realms and characters do feel a bit more individual and less perfect maps onto the usual molds i expect in romance xianxia (and even Love and Redemption, while very much subverting and flipping molds, used a lot of expected Traits to comment on the molds in the first place - whereas in this show they just don’t really neatly fit the mold Ever).

pacing. i just... cannot tolerate slow pacing for more than like 4 episodes max... and usually i give up if a cdrama gets paced slow for more than 2 eps. this show is so well paced im flying through it and never bored, which is always great in cdramaland where some dramas just Tend to Have a slow period of 5-10 eps at some point.

#love between fairy and devil #lb #theres a lot more i like but these are definitely some key reasons

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