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fazcinatingblog · 6 months

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Now THIS is how you model Calvin Klein

#ben Crocker #that's hot #you're welcome Tumblr #if i had to see this then it's only fair that everyone else does

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summersnow82 · 1 year

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This was shared on a FB SeaQuest fan page. The whole Season 1 main cast minus Jonathan Brandis. Look how adorable Ted is! 🥰

Sept. 7, 1994.

NBC TCA Press Tour in Pasadena, CA.

#seaquest 2032 #seaquest dsv #SeaQuest season 1 #ted raimi #lt tim o’neill #Tim O’Neill #travis hackett #jonathan brandis #roy scheider #marco sanchez #ben krieg #Katherine Hitchcock #stephanie beacham #Jonathan ford #chief Crocker #miguel ortiz #don franklin #captain nathan bridger #Lucas wolenzak

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twilightzonecloseup · 1 year

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1.02c Chameleon

Director: Wes Craven

Writer: James Crocker

Cinematographer: Bradford May

Summary:

In orbit above the earth, a spacewalking astronaut notices a strange blue light flashing off part of the space shuttle Discovery. When the shuttle returns to earth, two engineers, Brady (John Ashton) and Gerald (Steve Bassett), are asked to inspect one of the exterior cameras after it malfunctioned in orbit. When Brady removes the camera, he is engulfed in blue light and disappears—leaving just the camera. The camera is moved to a sealed observation lab where a team of NASA scientists can securely examine it. Dr. Curt Lockridge (Terry O’Quinn) and his team try to reason through what happened while they wait for consultation from a higher ranking scientist, Dr. Vaughn Heilman (Ben Piazza).

The camera flares up in blue light again, but now the observation lab is occupied by, what appears to be, Brady. “Brady” pleads with them to let him out. They attempt to reason with him, but “Brady” becomes increasingly irate. In a fit of desperation, “Brady” shape shifts into the form of Brady’s wife, Kathy (Lin Shaye). Kathy then pleads the case to the scientists to let “Brady” go home. This reveals that when this shapeshifter absorbs someone, it also absorbs their knowledge and memories, as the real Kathy is safe at home.

The scientists catch the shapeshifter up in its misunderstanding. It morphs back into its Brady form and begins to lash out. They decide to forcibly sedate the Brady-Thing, and Heilman enters the room to examine it. The Brady-Thing wakes up and absorbs Heilman. Rather than taking on Heilman’s form, it morphs into a bomb with a clock counting down to detonation. As it turns out, Heilman used to work in weapons R&D. Lockridge decides to enter the room himself as a sign of trust, to reason with it and set it free. When the countdown reaches zero, another flash, and out of the room runs the shapeshifter, now in the form of Heilman.

Lockridge chases after it, out onto the tarmac of the airfield. The shapeshifter explains to Lockridge that it ended up on earth out of pure curiosity and assures him that Heilman and Brady are not being held prisoner. Unable to explain its nature in human language, it offers Lockridge the opportunity to merge with it as well, and travel the universe. Lockridge declines and the shapeshifter transforms into a swirling ball of light, launching itself into the open night sky.

Closing Narration:

“Imagine yourself a visitor to many worlds, drifting on the solar wind, a thousand voices singing in your memory. Now imagine you're this man, who can only guess at the wonders he might have known, wonders that exist for him now only as a riddle... from The Twilight Zone."

More about Chameleon:

Chameleon was conceived and written by supervising producer James Crocker. On the DVD commentary for this episode, Crocker explained that his inspiration for writing this story was simply that he liked shapeshifter stories. It was refreshing to hear to be honest, as sometimes producers who envision themselves as creatives build up grandiose creation myths for their creative output. Anyway, I think that this approach worked out well for Chameleon as a Twilight-Zone story. Crocker successfully took inspiration from preexisting stories about shapeshifting alien beings and synthesized something original from it. (My assumption is that his inspirations were The Andromeda Strain (1971), The Thing (1982) (or The Thing from Another World (1951)), and maybe just a touch from the Star Trek TOS episode “The Squire of Gothos.” But, that’s just my speculation!)

Superficially, Chameleon reminded me more of a story that might appear on The Outer Limits. However, the shorter runtime of the episode gives it a Twilight Zone-y flair of presenting the viewer with a strange premise for them to mull over on their own. That is, Chameleon is relatively fantastic, rather than explicative, which would be more in line with the more sci-fi leaning Outer Limits.

No specific episodes of the original series immediately come to mind to pair Chameleon with, which is a good thing. If every episode had an analog in the original series, this reimagining of the series wouldn’t be showing much imagination! However, if I’m pressed to pair it, I’d go with The Lateness of the Hour (2.08) for depicting the panic response of suddenly not comprehending who or what you are or The Invaders (2.15) for depicting a fundamental difficulty in communicating between people from different planets. While this isn’t a Twilight Zone episode, The Outer Limits episode Corpus Earthing also came to mind when watching this story for the first time.

✨Support✨

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hitchell-mope · 4 months

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Descendants/Anything Goes au.

Mal. Reno Sweeney.

Ben. Evelyn Oakleigh.

Doug. Billy Crocker.

Evie. Hope Harcourt.

Hades. Moonface Martin.

Hadie. Erma.

Adam. Elisha J. Whitney.

Grimhilde. Evangeline Harcourt.

#disney descendants #anything goes #mal bertha #reno sweeney #ben florian #evelyn oakleigh #bal #doug son of dopey #billy crocker #evie grimhilde #hope harcourt #devie #hades descendants #moonface martin #hadie descendants #elisha j whitney #beast descendants #evil queen descendants #evangeline harcourt

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oatflatwhite · 11 days

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the inherent homoeroticism of war media: a completely unserious presentation by me

[note: some slides have been removed because they're literally just fancams and also i had more than 30 slides boo tumblr image limits]

BIBLIOGRAPHY (just going in order of slides)

and your knees are driving me wild - mash s02e08

george mackay has found his niche in homoerotic war movies

war stories are inherently homoerotic. that's how we got stucky

hangman you look good - top gun: maverick (gif by babyrooster)

letter of recommendation: watching masters of the air secondhand

it's not just sports - masters of the air e02

1 being not gay at all, 10 being liberace in an f-16

we'll go to chicago - band of brothers e01 (gif by @fkmylif3)

it is the law that every piece of war media

kim is a homoseggsual - kath & kim s01e02

Untitled (You Construct Intricate Rituals) - Barbara Kruger

The Secret History of Australia's Gay Diggers - Ben Winsor (+ Paul Fussell quoted within)

Sexuality, Sexual Relations and Homosexuality - Jason Crouthamel

Soldiers bathing in Malaya - AWM

Private Frank Crocker letters featured in Sebastian Faulks and Hope Wolf, A Broken World: Letters, Diaries and Memories of the Great War (2014), pp. 75-78.

mike's mic screencap my beloved <3

winnix gifs by @bandofbrothers2001 @preacherboyd @galebucky

winnix art by @andromeddog

winnix art by @onefineginger

In storms and at sunset by jouissant

winnix memes/text posts: 1 (@bleedingcoffee42) 2 (@krakerjaksstuff) 3 (@claudycod) 4 (@lewis-winters) 5 (@mon-mothmas-collar)

man is a hopeless creature i don't like much of anyone (@sluttyhenley)

You Create Intricate Rituals: The Homoerotic Action Movie - Rebecca Radillo (Lyvie Scott featured)

val kilmer icemav warrior compliation by @mavernick2

t as in top gun: maverick (@misaothewitch)

which is gayer (@holypowell)

we're fools to make war by whimsicule

all my roads lead back to you by liadan14

m*a*s*h video by @amrv-5 (+ reblog tags)

clegan/buck(y) gifs by @4o4notf0und @rcbertleckie

clegan fanart by @ifapromise <3

clegan memes: 1 (@rcbertleckie) 2 (@season-two) 3 (@ww2yaoi) 4 & 5

bomber's moon by moonrocks

**i tried to tag/link everything, if anything is broken or unsourced please let me know and i will endeavour to fix it! standard disclaimer that a) any discussion about war media based on real life people is based upon the fictional portrayals of those people and not the actual dudes. and b) this powerpoint was made for fun, it is not rigorous academic analysis. all opinions expressed are my own. please do not take it too seriously! that's all <3

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zepskies · 8 months

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Love Actually - Part 3

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.

AN: And here’s Part 3, lovelies. Stick around after the end for a special announcement (new BMD fic dropping next weekend)!

Remember, this is set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” There will be a few references to the original story in this. But on the whole, this can be read as a stand-alone!

Word Count: 5,300 Warnings: 18+ only! Smutty smut ahead. Lots of fluff and a potential overload of feels.~

Part 3: “Auld Lang Syne”

You leaned down, subtly grabbing his thigh.

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. The tone of your voice set his blood alight with new interest.

Ben’s resulting smirk was subtle, but edged. “A tour it is.”

Ben got up from the couch, giving you a thinly veiled look of smugness. He knew you’d come around.

You nearly rolled your eyes.

But when you told your grandfather your plans to show your boyfriend the rest of the house, he just waved the two of you off. He was too invested in the baseball game to give it much thought.

Which left Ben to follow you up the stairs, where he admired the curve of your ass in this little dress. He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and grabbed a delectable handful.

You gasped and clung to the guardrail. You shot him a warning look over your shoulder, despite your smile.

Not yet, your gaze told him. But you took his hand and guided him the rest of the way up. His grip tightened on yours.

All right. He could wait.

When they got to the second floor though, Ben started to get curious about the large two-story house.

“I thought you said your mom had debts,” he said. “Supposedly, that’s why you took on the job of hunting me down.”

You chuckled humorlessly. “Don’t let that Betty Crocker apron fool you. She’s a degenerate gambler.”

Behind you, Ben’s brows rose a bit.

You paused a step. “Or, well, she used to be. As you know, my family has issues.”

He snorted in response. Something else occurred to him though.

“Is this the house you grew up in?” he asked. You full on stopped walking then.

“Oh, no,” you said, with a firm shake of your head. “She sold that house after the divorce. She bought this one with the settlement money.”

Ben ruminated over that as you led him into the guest bathroom. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and by the time he turned around, you were there with your warm hands on his chest, shoving back his jacket.

He smirked and shrugged it off the rest of the way, then draped it on the doorknob behind him. He started with unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt.

You watched him with hunger in your eyes, running your hands down his firm chest and solid abs.

You heaved a breath of relief when he pulled you in. He wrapped his arms around your waist and started kissing down your neck. You clung to his arms and tried to stop yourself from digging your nails into his nice shirt.

“What changed your mind?” Ben asked.

“Are you complaining?” you quipped.

“Always a fucking smartass,” he rejoined. And his lips left you, with him giving you raised brow. His thigh slipped between your legs, a slow and torturous friction. “Maybe I’ll just leave that pretty pussy on fire.”

Ugh, you thought. He could be so annoying. You leveled your stern eyes up at him.

“I need you to fuck me. Right now,” you said. “Or I’m gonna rip my aunt’s face off.”

You reached down to cup his length firmly through his slacks, earning a grunt from him. It ended on a groan when you grazed him with your nails. He chuckled deeply.

“That’s kinda hot,” he replied. An understatement. The hairs on his arms were standing up, along with his cock.

You smiled in amusement. “You would think so.”

He grabbed your arms and meant to kiss you, but you stopped him with your fingers against his lips.

“Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”

By no means did you want to get caught doing this. You already felt guilty, and you two hadn’t even done anything yet. But you needed this, or else you weren’t sure you could get through dinner without any violent incidents.

But you could tell that Ben was annoyed at being given restrictions as he stared down at you.

“You’re making a lot of fucking demands tonight,” he said, squeezing your arms a bit.

You smirked and tilted your face up to him. You leaned up, nearly brushing your lips with his.

“Isn’t it more satisfying when you have to work for it?” you asked.

Ben huffed, and almost rolled his eyes. If there was one thing you enjoyed doing, it was testing his fucking patience.

But then he smirked. “Fine.”

He gripped your arms tighter and turned you around, pressing you against the pristine granite countertop. You met his darkened gaze in the mirror.

You knew then that he was going to do one of his favorite things: taking you from behind while he made you watch. It wasn’t the first time, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. But you parted your legs, your lower belly quivering with anticipation as his thigh encouraged you.

His hands soothed down your arms, dragging across your body, squeezing your breasts over your dress while his lips burned down your neck once more. His teeth grazed your skin, making you shudder.

You then remembered to turn the faucet on in the sink. It would create some more background noise, and hopefully disguise your moans as his hands traveled down your body.

You helped him slide the skirt of your dress up, tug your pantyhose down to your ankles without ripping them.

“Hmm, I like the black lace,” he murmured behind you. His fingers dragged down your skin along with your panties.

“I know,” you replied on a shaky breath, as his fingers teased the slit of your pussy from behind, brushing between the folds. “You bought ‘em last week.”

“Did I?” he mused, as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed a bit roughly, drawing a pleased sound from your lips. “I’ve got good taste.”

A smile broke out across your face. “See? I never need to pay you any compliments. You can stroke your own ego just fine.”

Ben tilted his head at you. He peered around your shoulder to catch your eye. You gave him a sly look over your shoulder, though it was edged with desire.

“Oh yeah?” His words were a challenge. His fingers entered you then, earning an even deeper moan from you, though you tried to taper it down. “Maybe I should let you stroke your own too, huh?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. Your inner walls were already clenching on his fingers, and you had to grab his arm and the counter for balance.

“Ben, please,” you whispered more raggedly. His smirk took on a wicked edge.

“Oh, now it’s please?” he said, his voice drawing deeper, more gruff. “Please what?”

You couldn’t speak. His fingers were working overtime pulsing inside you, while his other hand joined, parting your folds to press on your clit like a button. You were so fucking close, you could taste it…

But as soon as that coil began to truly tighten, Ben withdrew his fingers. You panted for breath, and your gaze snapped up to his in the mirror. You glared at him.

“What the f—”

“Answer me,” he demanded. “Or I really will walk the fuck out right now.”

Big talk, you thought, from the man with a rock-hard dick. But you blew out a breath and conceded to his demands.

“Please,” you said, reaching back to stroke his cheek, running your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer. Your hand clenched in his hair. And with the other, you took his hand, still wet from where it had been inside you, and brushed it against your slippery folds.

“This is all because of you,” you said. “Only ever for you. Fuck me until I break an ankle in these heels. ‘Til I can’t fucking breathe.”

Ben’s chest warmed. And it wasn’t just about his pride.

Somehow, you gave him everything he wanted to hear and more. Maybe that was part of what he loved about you. Even when you demanded from him, you gave him more of yourself.

So he gave you what you wanted. He guided you down onto the counter and rucked up your dress. Per rule #2, he did it gently enough so he wouldn’t rip the fabric.

You heard his pants unzipping, felt the weeping head of his cock against your folds, teasing you for a moment. You gripped the counter and made a sound of pleading frustration.

“I gotcha, baby,” Ben said, lowly in your ear. He gripped your hip and guided his cock inside you, nice and slow. You both breathed hard, trying to keep your voices down. He then bottomed out, and it made your inner walls flutter and tighten. He made a gutteral sound, low and pleased. “Such a good girl.”

His darkened green eyes fixed on yours in the mirror. It was heat and desire, but it was also deeper. It always had been, ever since he met you.

And for you, his gaze alone was a molten caress. If you had it your way, you could very well spend the rest of the night in the guest bathroom. In this very moment…

But it had already been a while in here. You didn’t know how much time you had left before someone came to find you two, so you squeezed his hand on your hip.

“Get going, cowboy,” you teased, but it was really a command. Ben saw it in your heated gaze in the mirror, meeting his. He slid out of you slow at first, but snapped back in harder. It made you jolt, but also shudder and squeeze him from the inside out. He wished he had the time to do this how he wanted, taking his time, but that was one thing they didn’t have.

He made up for it by taking you hard and deep, putting you through your paces. You held on for dear life while trying not to let your voice raise higher. It was a challenge for you, and you knew Ben liked hearing your voice. But when he hit a particularly good angle, you couldn’t help but cry out a bit.

He brushed your hair away from your neck and pressed his lips there. He had to bite down to stifle his own grunts. It had you gasping at pain mixed with pleasure.

He was getting close too; you could feel it in his wilder thrusts, in the tightening of his hand on your hip. You needed just a bit more.

“Ben,” you whispered. He heard the ragged need in your voice. He saw it in your eyes when he met them in the mirror, desperate for release.

“Tell me,” he ground out.

You took his hand guided it again down to part your folds. He took the hint and once again circled the pads of his fingers against your clit—this time with purpose. Your breath hitched as the coil in your belly finally snapped and released its warmth.

He gave you a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered as he groaned, and he spilled inside you.

Oh shit. You still hadn’t gotten your IUD replaced…

Oh fucking well, you thought, as your core still quivered with pleasure. This was worth playing a bit fast and loose with your birth control.

For a while, the sounds of your mingled breaths were almost drowned out by the water running. You turned off the faucet. Then your eyes met Ben’s in the mirror, and you smiled.

The corner of his mouth raised. He slid out of you, but you kept him close with a hand around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. Part of you couldn’t believe you just fucked your boyfriend in your mother’s house, in the guest bathroom of all places. But you felt all the better for it.

Or at least, you no longer had a desire for blood. You stroked the arm that still held you upright, more bracing now than restrictive. You felt his seed spilling down your inner thighs, but you couldn’t yet force yourself to move. Your legs were still shaky.

However, you knew you could rely on the strong pillar of his arms holding you. Ben rested his cheek against your hair, pressing a kiss there.

“You’re beautiful tonight,” he said.

Your eyes widened with soft shock. When it slowly faded, you bit your lip. Your body shook with quiet laughter as your brows rose high.

“Right now?” you asked. With your dress rucked up and your pantyhose rolled down to your ankles.

“Yeah. Right now,” Ben said. “A fucking sight.”

And he meant it.

You could tell, and that warmed you down to your toes. Your smile softened as you rested against him and closed your eyes for a moment.

“You don’t know how glad I am that you’re here with me,” you said. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got some idea,” he murmured, smirking as you once again trembled with a giggle.

You reluctantly detangled yourself from him to reach down under the sink for a washcloth. Ben let go of your waist, only so he could take the small towel from your hand. You looked up at him in confusion, but he leaned around you to run the cloth under a bit of warm water from the sink.

He then got down on one knee in front of you, and proceeded to clean you up himself. Your eyes widened as you stared down at him. Your breath caught in your throat.

He’d never done this before. Something about it made you blush. The sheer intimacy of it, probably, of his hand running the warm cloth up your bare inner thighs. His free hand held one of your calves, his thumb resting just under your knee.

You had to reach for his shoulder to stabilize yourself when the cloth swiped between your thighs, against your sensitive core. It made your lower belly tingle again with a spark of arousal. You breathed in slow and deep before you spoke.

“Not that I’m complaining, but…” you trailed. You weren’t even able to finish your question.

Ben met your gaze with a raised brow. “What, can’t take care of my girl?”

It took you a moment, but eventually you smiled. The kind of smile that made your insides warm and buoyant, and your stomach clench.

You had a feeling he’d overheard you and your sister talking earlier. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d eavesdropped with his superior hearing.

Your expression faded a bit when something occurred to you. You tilted your head at him.

“You heard everything my aunt said, didn’t you?” you asked.

Ben paused a moment, holding the towel against your inner thigh. His lips drew downward as he remembered what he’d heard while trying to concentrate on the baseball game with George.

“I’m just sayin’!” Trina said. “He might have forever, but you certainly don’t.”

If Louisa hadn’t stepped in when she had, Ben might’ve had to ruin his new suit, if not the evening.

“Seems like having a big fucking mouth runs in your family,” he muttered.

You snorted. “Yeah, but mine’s endearing. She’s just a bitch, still bitter from her divorce.”

Ben didn’t answer. Though after he finished cleaning you up, he rested and elbow on his bent knee. His free hand dragged up your thigh and over your hip, squeezing soft flesh.

“Yeah well, put her in her place next time, or I will,” he said. His tone was edged, and you gave him a wry look.

“I’ll try not to give you the chance,” you said.

“I mean it,” Ben said. His gaze bore into yours, unyielding, even from where he knelt at your feet. He stood to his full height, tucking in his shirt and zipping his pants back up as he went.

“No one’s got the fucking right to talk about our business,” he said. “And you better not listen to a goddamn word. About me, and sure as shit, not about you.”

A small, sharp breath got stuck in your throat. Just then, you found you had to swallow past a swell of emotion lodging in your throat.

His hands found their way back to your hips and squeezed gently, but with purpose. You read it in his eyes.

“You hearing me?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Your aunt was someone who always “meant well.” You had gotten far too used to swallowing your tongue for your mother’s sake. And at the end of the day, you usually knew how to let Trina’s words roll off. You’d certainly had plenty of practice.

But regardless, your heart grew for this man.

You took his face between your hands, and you kissed him deeply, breaking rule #1.

You took a few more minutes to fix your clothes, your hair, and yes, your lipstick.

When you two eventually went back downstairs, the table was nearly set. The appetizers and wine remained, along with the plates and silverware. All that was missing was dinner itself.

“Okay, looks like dinner’s about ready. I’m gonna go and help,” you said. You gave Ben a parting smile and let your fingers run down the back of his arm. He shot you a wink, and one last pat on the ass.

You had to stifle your squeal, sending him a playfully warning look on your way to the kitchen. You stepped back in to see your mom pouring the cranberry sauce into a serving pitcher.

“Oh, glad Miss Congeniality could grace us again with her presence,” Trina remarked at the sight of you.

You gave her a flat smile. “What do you need?”

“We’re serving. Help your mom,” she said, nodding behind her. You wordlessly agreed and went over to Marie, who gave you a curious look.

“Where were you all that time?” she asked. Louisa looked over with the same question in her eyes.

“Well, I said hi to Grandpa,” you said. It wasn’t a lie, and technically, nor were your next words. “And then I gave Ben a tour of the house.”

When the fuck is dinner already? Ben thought as he approached the dining table filled with mini quiche, pigs-in-a-blanket, and other appetizers. His stomach was starting to growl something fierce. He was craving real food, but he still grabbed one of the small plates.

While he surveyed the layout of finger food, Great Aunt Silvia sidled up next to him with her cane in hand. Ben noticed her out of the corner of his eye. According to George, she’d had a hip replacement last month.

“Hey, there,” he greeted somewhat politely, if distracted by adding food to his small plate.

“Oh, my days. You’re Soldier Boy,” she said in surprise. Her eyes twinkled with delight.

Where’ve you been, lady? Ben thought in annoyance. Oh, that’s right. Passed out in a damn oxy coma.

Before he could respond with something half gracious, he felt a bony hand get a meaty handful of his ass.

He actually flinched, more at the suddenness than anything else. A pig-in-a-blanket flew from his plate and rolled off the table.

Ben gave the old woman an incredulous look. What the fuck?

“Excuse me?” he uttered.

But of course, she played dumb. And she ducked quick when you came over with the mashed potatoes in large bowl. You set it down on the table, but you noted the grouchy look on his face as he looked past you into the living room. Great Aunt Sylvia waddled away with the help of her cane, back to her nice recliner.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, earning his attention.

“Silvia’s a wily old broad,” he muttered. At the look on your face, however, he felt the need to clarify. “Apparently she got my ass confused with the quiche.”

You bit your lip, and your eyes widened. You had to stifle a shocked giggle as you glanced past him to your great aunt, who’d taken her usual seat by her brother. You slid Ben a knowing smirk.

“I thought you liked older women,” you teased.

He scoffed. “Gotta draw the line somewhere. I think ‘hip replacement’ is that line.”

“Not running for the Astroglide, huh?” you whispered in his ear.

He grimaced, even though he also wanted to laugh. He just shook his head.

“Jesus Christ, enough.”

You stifled a laugh through your nose and soothed his arm.

“Here, help us with getting the ham on the table. Maybe we can avoid another member of my family playing grab ass.”

Once Christmas dinner was all set on the dining table, you were practically salivating. You had a hard time deciding on what to try first: the ham, the sweet potato casserole, the cranberry sauce, or stick as much of all three on your fork as you could.

You went with the latter, and Louisa eyed you with a laugh.

“What?” you asked with your mouth full. It got Ben’s attention as well.

“You do this every year,” Louisa remarked. “It’s like you forgot how long it takes to get dinner on the table in this house.”

“I’m freakin’ starving,” you admitted.

“Yeah? Worked up an appetite, did you?” Ben asked, a bit pointedly, despite the way he sipped at his wine. (And paying you back for that Astroglide quip).

You shot him a warning look at his audacity.

Louisa seemed to be the only one who caught the exchange, with a suspicious brow raise.

“So Ben,” Trina began, around a mouthful of ham. Already her voice set you on edge. “What was it like in the ‘40s? You know, with the Nazis and everything.”

You and Ben shared a subtle glance. His jaw clenched.

Fuuuucking hell, you thought.

From the head of the table, Grandpa George looked over at his eldest daughter with an annoyed glint in his eye.

“Katrina, do us all a favor,” he said wryly. “Keep stuffin’ your face.”

You bit your lip against a grin. Louisa shared your same problem, snorting into her Diet Coke.

Trina looked adequately indignant, but to everyone’s relief, she just pursed her lips and speared at her plate.

The rest of dinner was interesting, to say the least, with many questions thrown to Ben about his celebrity days. He ate up the attention, just as you thought he would. It seemed your little escapade upstairs loosened him up too. He told his favorite stories, editing the more graphic anecdotes out of some of them, you noticed gratefully.

The atmosphere only got tense when Ben bit into some kind of casserole Marie made. The texture was soft and stringy with green beans, but there was something unpleasantly sweet, and even crunchy in the middle. Uncooked noodles, maybe? Frankly, he wasn’t sure what he was eating.

“You all right, hun?” Marie asked him.

“What is this?” Ben asked, pointing down at his plate with a fork.

“Ah.” Trina peered at his plate, and then the suspect casserole. “It’s probably not quite right. God love her, but my sister’s no Gordon Ramsay.”

You frowned as your mom’s gaze fell. Her lips drew downwards in disappointment.

Before you could speak up, Ben’s voice stopped you.

“You know what,” Ben said. His voice was tight, in a way that told you he might just snap. Your aunt’s questions had gotten more intrusive and annoying over the past hour, too much even for him to let roll down his back. He was used to dealing with shitty press, but Trina was fucking relentless.

Someone better fucking muzzle this bitch before I do it for her.

The words were about to fly out of his mouth, in a very real threat. Ben only took his belt off in public for two reasons: a good fuck and a good old-fashioned hog tie. Your aunt was about to get the latter.

However, he could tell by the way you were gripping the edge of the table, you were bracing yourself for whatever he was going to say next. All eyes were on him.

Ben drew in a breath. With every cell of effort left in him, he turned to Marie with a smile. As pleasant as he could manage.

“I was just trying to figure out what you put in this, because it’s delicious,” he said.

Marie blinked with a bit of surprise, but then, she brightened.

“Oh…well, it’s just green bean casserole. A bit of butter, some Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup. That classic recipe,” she said.

But she paused, in a way that told Ben that the other shoe was about to drop.

“…And I just added a few raisins and walnuts this time. For some texture,” she said with a shrug. “You know, something different.”

She smiled at Ben, while he and the rest of the table tried not to grimace. Who the fuck puts raisins in cream of mushroom? That’s just wrong.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said.

Ben offered her a nod, but he had to take a long sip of wine to wash the unpleasant mix of overbearing salt and sweetness down.

He felt your soft hand squeeze his under the table. When he looked over, he found your subtle, thankful smile. The corner of his mouth raised, however slightly.

The night ticked on, and Ben subtly checked his watch while he chilled out on the couch. He was at the edge of the festivities now, as your family was exchanging gifts by the modest Christmas tree in the living room.

He surveyed them all—warm and comfortable with one other as they joked and hugged and talked and laughed. Even Trina looked less irritating.

Ben felt a bit like an intruder.

Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever had this. A quiet, family Christmas.

Though he was a bit surprised when Marie was the first one to walk over to him. She sat down on the couch and offered him two gift bags. One was larger than the other.

“You didn’t have to,” he told her, but she waved him off.

“Nonsense. When I saw this, I couldn’t help thinking of you,” she said. Ben began opening the larger one first. It was a simple, dark blue bag.

“You might think it’s silly,” she said, folding her hands in her lap in a slightly nervous gesture. “Feel free to return it if you don’t like it.”

Ben pulled out a nice bottle of whiskey. He actually appreciated this one.

“Oh! That’s from Louisa,” said Marie.

“Really?” He glanced over and found Louisa sitting on the floor beside you.

You were busy trying to cut through a present Grandpa George had wrapped with duct tape, just to be an asshole. (He did this to you every year, precisely because it frustrated you so much.)

But Louisa looked up and met Ben’s gaze, giving him a wry smile and a lazy soldier’s salute. His lips quirked, and he inclined his head in wordless thanks.

“This one next,” Marie prompted him. She tapped on the second gift bag, which was bright green and shiny.

There he found a leatherbound journal and a set of silver ballpoint pens. They looked expensive. They also reminded him of a set his father used to keep in his desk, in his study. Even the smell of the leather brought him back to that room, filled with books, crisp ink-filled pages, and tumblers of whiskey.

“I’ve worked in a hospital for over ten years, in the psychology wing,” Marie said. “I see a lot of veterans. Lisa, my friend who’s a nurse? She told me that writing things down can help with memories you want to keep, and sort through the ones you’d rather not.”

Ben held her gaze for a moment, but it soon fell to the journal. He didn’t really know what to say. For once, he was at a loss for words.

Mostly because he was irritated. He didn’t need what she was offering, and implying…

Still, it was hard to get mad at someone like Marie. It would be like all those times he’d snapped at his own mother, leaving him feeling hollow inside afterwards. He’d always apologized to her later…in his own way.

But that was a long time ago.

“Sorry,” Marie said eventually. “I know, you’re too busy for all that. But at least you’ve got the whiskey.”

“Thank you,” Ben said. But the reserved smile he offered her was more genuine than even he expected. The journal and the pens still laid in his lap.

Marie smiled warmly, and in it, Ben saw your inner softness. The way you cared about your family and your friends, and him…he knew then that it began here.

Marie gave his cheek a motherly pat. Ben allowed it, begrudgingly.

“We’re so glad you’re here, honey,” she said. “I hope you had a good time.”

He was a bit relieved when she finally moved on. She headed over to Louisa, who was opening one of her gifts. You got up off the floor returned to your boyfriend with a wrapped box in your hand. First, you admired his small haul.

“Look who’s popular,” you noted with a grin. Ben gave you a bemused look and put the gifts back in their respective bags.

“I’ve got one more for you,” you said, with a teasing smile that made him suspicious. You handed him the box, which was about the size of a large book. The sticker said it was from you, to him.

His brows furrowed. “What’s this?”

You already got him the watch. But at your gesturing, he ripped the green wrapping paper off to find…a photo album.

“Really, what is this?” he asked.

“You can’t tell?”

“I know what it is—”

“Well, then open it,” you prodded. You sat down next to him as he started flipping through the album.

The very first picture wiped the curious expression from his face. It was his mother, crisp in black and white. She was young and beautiful and smiling almost shyly for the camera on a windy day.

Right beside it, there was one of his parents’ wedding pictures, old and yellowed around the corners. The third was a faded picture of the club where his parents met. His mother had been a singer there.

You leaned over with a hand on his shoulder. Ben looked over at you.

“What the hell did you do?” Ben he asked. His face was hard to read, but he didn’t look upset. His tone was more resigned.

“I found your stash of pictures under the bed, so I thought I’d put them together for you,” you said. You bit your lip in worry, hoping he would like it. You weren’t sure of his reaction yet.

After a moment, he kept flipping. Next were a few pictures of himself, incredibly young and already with a familiar cocky grin. There was even a rare picture of him and his parents together. He remembered when and where it was taken—at his father’s birthday, right after Ben got kicked out of boarding school.

He hadn’t looked at these pictures in…hell. It’d been decades. He'd retrieved them from an old storage locker last month, but hadn't gotten around to actually opening up the box. Now, he supposed, he didn't have to.

But the album then skipped ahead, by a lot, because the next row of pictures was unfamiliar to him—ones you must’ve added.

They were of the Supe Affairs team. One was a group picture Hughie managed to grab with all of you in it.

There was another right beside it, of Hughie trying to lift Ben’s shield.

“When the fuck did that little shit get ahold of my shield?” Ben groused.

“No idea,” you said with a smile, and you flipped the page. There was an old school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at backgammon.

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.

Ben lingered on that picture for a moment. He was too engrossed in it to see you glance at him, smiling.

He flipped to the next page, where there was a picture of just you and Ben, sleeping in the jet on the way back from a rare field mission you were a part of. He was still in his supe suit, with an arm thrown around your waist. You were resting on his chest, and both of you were completely knocked out. Ben quirked a smile at that one.

On that page and the next was a series of pictures from the past few months. He didn’t know this, but you’d been collecting them from your phone and had gotten them developed.

There was the first time Ben got you to ride a motorcycle with him. You were apprehensive, clinging to him for dear life while he grinned. It had taken him a while to convince you to hop on, but the only thing that worked was finally telling you the truth.

“You really think for one damn second that I’m gonna let you fall?”

The next picture was one he got of you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You were clearly annoyed, but also amused that he’d surprised you with the camera. Ben now pointed to it.

“That one’s my favorite,” he grinned.

“Shocker,” you said with a chuckle. “Keep flipping.”

He then got to one you took of him. He was sitting out on the balcony, half-dressed with a cigar puffing away. The sun was setting beyond him. You caught his profile as he turned to look at you over his shoulder.

It was a good memory for you, and some damn good photography skills, if you did say so yourself.

But there was another picture that drew Ben’s eye. It was one that Annie sneakily took of you and him on a night out with her, Hughie, Kimiko, and Frenchie. After a bit of alcohol and cajoling, you’d managed to get Ben out on the dance floor. You were both dewy with sweat from dancing. The lighting was off because of the darkness of the club.

But the way he was holding you, looking at you with fire thinly veiled behind his eyes, and the way you were looking up at him, like you’d never been more satisfied than to be right where you were…

It was a damn perfect moment captured in four corners. And as Ben’s finger traced the edge of them, he couldn’t stop staring at what it held.

Until you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” you said. And you hoped it was officially a good one.

When Ben once again turned his head to look at you, he couldn’t help but reach out and frame your face with his hand. He then leaned in and kissed you, unhurried, but with an underlying passion.

Delightful heat crawled down your spine. You grasped his collar to keep him where you wanted him.

Meanwhile, the two of you didn’t realize that the rest of your family was surreptitiously watching the little scene. Trina and Marie shared amused smiles. George was glad to see that you finally seemed happy. Sylvia was, once again, passed out in the recliner.

Louisa’s expression was more reserved…but her eyes softened. Maybe she didn’t have to worry about you so much after all.

And when Ben finally parted from you, he thumbed gently at your chin.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said.

You and Ben left your mother’s house with plenty of leftover food and a haul of presents, which you both brought upstairs into your apartment.

“So, I know there were some snafus, but it was nice, right?” you asked him as you made your way into the bedroom.

Ben was already there at his dresser, taking off his new watch and placing it back in its black suede box for safe keeping. He considered your words with a nod, and a smile you couldn’t see.

“It wasn’t bad,” he said.

You nodded in satisfaction. That was practically a glowing review, coming from him.

His gaze found yours in the mirror, those perfectly red painted lips forming a smile as you approach from behind. Your hands travelled through the bows of his arms to unbuckle his belt for him.

“I know you did me a lot of favors today, but I’m gonna need one more,” you said, with a coy smile curving your lips. “I need your help taking off this lipstick.”

Smirking, Ben turned in your arms and leaned back casually against the dresser. Using his unfastened belt as leverage, you leaned up in your heels and met his lips in a slow, but fiery kiss.

His eyes unconsciously closed as the scent of your perfume once again invaded his nose. It was less powerful by now, but it still clung to your skin like a soft imprint. He liked it.

After your lips drew away from his, Ben watched you make a show of undoing the small latch on his pants, and then his zipper. He sunk his fingers into the soft waves of your hair, and he gave you a charming grin that once got him starlets and movie deals.

“Well, I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he said.

You smirked at that. You didn’t know if fucking you in your mom’s house constituted as gentlemanly behavior, but you’d let that slide.

And you did some sliding yourself, down his strong thighs and onto your knees. He could take care of you all right, but you prided yourself on taking care of him too.

AN: And there you have it, folks. 😜 What did you think? From bathroom shenanigans and Christmas dinner to some good old-fashioned gift giving. I think we covered it all! lol

Coming Soon: "Strong As Blood"

The next story I have lined up for the BMD-verse will probably be my last planned one for a hot minute, other than one request I got that I really want to do in the near future (but I haven't written it as of yet).

This next one is called, "Strong As Blood":

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

Soldier Boy Masterlist

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@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

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#Love Actually #Part 3 #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben x reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x you #soldier boy smut #smut #Christmas fic #fluff #BMD verse #Break me down verse #zepskies writes

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months

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Thunder In Our Hearts: You're Losing Me

Summary: A few short weeks before their first holiday together, the reader finds Ben slipping into his old ways...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: This takes place within Part 9 of Thunder In Our Hearts. Enjoy! 😉

_______

You hummed as you stirred the ingredients in the Dutch oven on the cold December day. Things with Ben had been good lately. It’d been about four months since you’d both stopped hunting down people, trying to hide him from the CIA. You simply…were.

For Ben, that meant a whole lot of learning still. He’d been out of the box for a little over six months now and had picked up a few things. He even had his own SUV now for getting around. He understood how to use the TV and get to streaming apps along with some basic use of the internet and a smart phone.

And he prided himself on how well he could cook a full breakfast for you both. You’d even got a smirk out of him when you called him your own Betty Crocker.

But there was still a lot to learn and it wore on him some days. Unfortunately, it seemed like today was going to be one of them.

“Jesus Christ,” groaned Ben, stepping into the house, shrugging out of his winter jacket. He kicked off his boots and left them in the middle of the floor, all while shaking his head. “Your generation is full of fucking pussies, baby. No wonder this country has gone to shit.”

You tore your eyes away from the soup on the stove, annoyance prickling your skin. Yeah, it was definitely one of those days.

“The fucking child working the counter at the auto store didn’t know two shits about the oil I was looking for. Literally the twats only fucking job,” he grumbled, walking into the kitchen and washing up his hands. You tried to let it go. He was allowed to get irritated as much as you were.

You set the spoon on the rest next to the stove and put the lid back on top, the stew having a few hours to go still.

“And then at dealership where I had to go to get the stupid shit, there was, I swear to God, some kid that had to be thirty fucking years old was buying a car with his dad. These little shits don’t know to wipe their own asses.”

You rolled your eyes behind his back and left the kitchen, Ben inhaling sharply, lifting the lid up. He licked his lips and set it back down, either ignoring or not picking up on your own growing annoyance. You sat down on the end of the couch, Ben leaning over the back, strong hands on your shoulders.

“And why the hell is everyone obsessed with these fucking frilly decorations for Chirstmas? It’s fucking stupid. If people want shit they should buy it. End of discussion. Lame ass holiday anyway.”

He squeezed your shoulders gently, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear.

“You’re tense, baby. Let me help you relax.” Strong hands slid down over your shoulders, headed straight for your chest and you’d had enough. You faced him with a glare, Ben narrowing his eyes. “What’d I do?”

“You’re being an ass today. You’re acting like asshole Ben, the one I didn’t like, remember?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “All you have done today is complain about other people, leave the house a mess, hell you even got something against Christmas. It’s fucking Christmas, Ben! No one in the world, even the most redneck backwoods hillbilly, has anything against a strand of fucking white lights. Frilly? Oh come on.”

“First off, they are fucking frilly,” he spat back as you headed for the foyer. “What’s wrong with not liking a stupid ass holiday?”

“Nothing! Hate Christmas for all I care! Plenty of people do. But don’t put it down because of lights or trees or presents. Hate it because your family sucks or whatever. Not because it’s not manly enough for you.”

“Oh fuck you,” he said, getting in your face, leering down at you with a certain visceral that reminded you of your first argument. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Don’t hate everything that’s not part of your toxic masculinity!” His eye twitched and you looked away, past him out the patio door. “For three weeks you’ve been acting more and more like an asshole. I know this is hard for you. I know learning is hard and learning to be accepting and even tolerant doesn’t happen overnight. But Benjamin, I told you once before. I will not live with a man that I’m afraid of. Do not become someone I am afraid of.”

“You have no idea how hard this is!” he shouted, so loud your body shook. You forced yourself to meet his angry gaze, fighting back wetness in your own. “I do everything for you! Every goddamn day I try for you! I’m sorry your worthless piece of shit boyfriend isn’t doing it fast enough for you!”

“I never called you that,” you said quietly, throat thick from fighting back the tears from falling. “Never. All I have ever asked of you is to try and you Ben, these past few weeks you aren’t trying. I am not giving up on you. All I’m asking is you to not give up on yourself. You’re worth it. But you have to want it too.”

“What I want is you to stop hounding me over every little thing every motherfucking day!” he shouted. You tore your gaze away and swallowed before heading for the door. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“For a drive,” you said, putting your boots on, taking your coat off the hook. “For the record, all I wanted to do today was make you homemade beef stew because you haven’t had it since you were a kid. Maybe, just maybe, decorate for Christmas because we both had shitty childhoods and maybe we could have made our own good traditions. But if you don’t want that, Ben, I won’t force that on you. I’m done. I’ll always love you but I don’t deserve to be screamed at for helping you, for still holding up my end of the deal.”

You ripped open the door and threw up your hood without looking back.

It was close to eleven when you got home. You were tired and your stomach felt off from your makeshift dinner of a greasy burger and fries. Least of all did you want another fight with Ben tonight. You just didn’t have the energy for it.

You sighed as you pushed open the door, catching sight of him out of the corner of your eye. Great. But you cut off your own thoughts as your eyes took in the room, darting through the family room and over to the kitchen and dining room.

Hundreds of small lights filled the house. Draped on the wall. Wrapped around the decorated tree in the corner. Over the mantle where two stockings hung.

You knew you were standing there with your mouth open, letting the cold air inside behind you. Ben walked around the couch and shut the door, all while staring at you. He flickered his own gaze down and you caught his shirt wasn’t his usual thermals or t-shirts.

He had on a fucking Grinch sweater. A fucking Grinch sweater.

Your eyes flirted back to his, worried green ones meeting them. His lips parted, words caught in his throat. He swallowed, taking both your hands in his.

“You deserve a better life than this.” He lowered his head. “Than me. But you won’t leave me alone unless I make you go which is what I’ve been doing. I don’t want you to have to teach me everything. You’re wasting away your life on me. I’m not good. No matter what I do, I’ll never be good. I’m always the villian. I want better for you than me.”

You stared at the Grinch on his sweater, at the comically large yellow eyes, the curl of green on top of his head.

“Y/N. Say something. Do something.” You lifted your gaze, his head turned cautiously up, waiting for a response. You stepped closer to him, Ben ripping his gaze away, like you’d burn him.

“Don’t you ignore me.” His head turned back, dropping your hands when you pulled them away. “Why did you do all this if you want me to go?”

“I never said I wanted you to go,” he whispered, cracking a sad smile. “I told you. I want you to want someone better than me.”

“Why did you do all of this?” you asked again, Ben closing his eyes, bottom lip trembling for a split second.

“Because…” he said, scrunching up his face, forcing himself to look you in the eye. “Because you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Because you deserve better but I’m the bad guy and I can’t survive without you. Because you’re my girl. Because I like these fucking frilly lights even though I’m the Grinch. That guy was an asshole too until someone gave him a chance. Give me one more chance. Let me be selfish. Don’t let me lose you.”

“I…” you said, Ben nodding once and lowering his head. You ripped off your jacket and boots, Ben barely lifting his chin as you cupped his cheeks. “I’m so proud of you.”

Confusion crossed his face as you smiled, wiping away a single tear that slipped free. “Why? I fucked everything up.”

“We still have to work on that self-worth I see,” you said, gently stroking over his cheek. “Benjamin. I love you and I’ll never give up on you. If you want better for me then you become that man because I picked you. I see you becoming him more and more everyday. But this Ben? The one right in front of me? I don’t love him any less than that other man.”

“I was an ass on purpose. I scared you,” he said. “You should-”

“No, you didn’t. But you needed a wakeup call because baby, I know you. I know you want me to hate you some days because you hate yourself. I know you think you trapped me. But you saved me, Soldier Boy. I need you to remember I’m here because with you is exactly where I want to be.”

He closed his eyes, an argument on the tip of his tongue. But he surprised you.

“I just want you to be happy,” he whispered. You kissed his cheek and then his lips, wrapping you arms around him tightly.

“I am. You’re my happy place.”

“Oh god that’s sad,” he half-laughed, resting his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve earned that.”

“Tell that to the guy who decorated the whole house with the frilly little lights,” you said, Ben chuckling. “If you want to leave me Ben you can but never do that again.”

“I promise and that’s not happening,” he said. He hugged you gently, the room quiet for a beat and then another. “I saved your stew. Maybe we can have it for lunch tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” you said, enjoying the warmth of him around you. “Was today as bad as you said it was?”

“No. But I know how to make you think less of me,” he said, pulling back. “You should still be upset with me.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “We’re not doing that. I know what I want and that’s for you to feel like you can talk to me when you start feeling bad. Please.”

“I’ll try,” he offered and you nodded, knowing that was all he could promise right now. You rested your head against his chest and breathed slowly, his heart thudding away strong and steady. “No.”

You frowned and looked at him, Ben raising his chin, nodding to himself. “No?”

“I won’t try. I’ll do it. No more trying. I will be better. End of story. I’m going to give you what you deserve.”

“Someday I hope you can see how fucking far you’ve come,” you said, Ben shrugging. “Come on. Let’s head to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“Ben,” you said the next morning as you lay curled up in his side. He traced his fingers up and down your arm, offering you a sleepy smile. “Can I give you a Christmas present early?”

“Eh, after yesterday I think I’m on the naughty list,” he said, catching the frown on your face. “Sorry. Working on the self-worth thing. So uh, I guess sure?”

You took his hand and slid it under your shirt over your belly, his eyes narrowing. “Listen.”

He closed his eyes, sliding his hand down slightly. He swallowed once, eyes flashing open. He stared at your stomach for a solid ten seconds before finding your face, lips parting.

“There’s another heartbeat inside of you,” he whispered. “Two more.”

“I know,” you said softly, placing your hand over his. “I found out yesterday morning. I went to the doctor while I was out. I’m eight weeks.”

“Twins?” You smiled and nodded, Ben’s hand still on you. “And they’re mine?”

“Of course they’re yours,” you laughed, Ben swallowing thickly. “Ben. It’s going to be okay. I’m scared too but excited. We-”

“I-Is it a boy? Are they boys?” he asked. You smiled and touched your forehead to his. “Can you know that before?”

“Nowadays yeah, but it’s a little too early to find that out,” you said, his breath hitching. “Do you…want boys?”

“No. No, I don’t want boys,” he said, suddenly jumping out of bed, hands going to his thighs as he leaned over and made a wincing sound. “You have to leave.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, sitting upright. Ben turned around, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“I should not be anyone’s father. I-I’m going to fuck these kids up. I can’t…Jesus Y/N. I’m going to lose my temper and hurt them. Or I’ll be awful and raise them wrong. I can’t ruin their lives. I-I can’t be my father. I can’t-” You put his hand back on your stomach, Ben’s chest rising and falling quickly.

“You guys are going to have the best daddy in the world if he loves you this much already,” you said. Ben wanted to argue more but you shushed him. “Whatever they are, they’re going to be just fine.”

“How do you know that?” he whispered.

“Because we know everything not to do.” He thumbed over your skin, spreading his palm out wide. “I have to ask you to try for me one more time, Ben. Try to believe you’ll be good at this.”

He closed his eyes, a tiny smile crawling onto his lips. “If you’d asked me a year ago, I’d have told you I’d be a perfect father. Now…I know I would have destroyed them, made them awful little people like me.”

“Please stop saying things like that,” you whispered. He nodded, touching his forehead to yours.

“If you taught me, I guess these two will be alright. But I have to learn faster. I need to…shit I don’t know anything about babies. How much do they eat? What do they eat? And what the hell do babies wear nowadays? And-”

“Shush,” you murmured, smiling to yourself. “Calm down, super dad. We get to learn this together. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ben’s breathing slowed, his gaze flickering down between you, staring at his hand with a goofy little look. You almost teased him about looking happy for the first time but held back the comment. Whatever was going on in his head right now was healing him, even if it was ever so miniscule.

And that was the best gift he ever could have given you.

“Merry Christmas Ben.”

“Merry Christmas, baby…and babies,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “Thank you. All of you.”

_________

#soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #the boys fanfic #soldier boy reader insert #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x

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summersnow82 · 2 years

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Fanfiction _ SeaQuest

Fictober 2022/ Prompt #3: “That was not my intention.”

Author's Note: I've always loved Krieg and Crocker, and I wanted to highlight them in this little fic. (Hitchcock/ Krieg ship forever!)

.........

Lieutenant Benjamin Krieg stood at attention before Captain Nathan Bridger, Chief Crocker, and Commander Jonathan Ford in the Briefing Room.

“You wanna tell me just what the hell you were thinking, Lieutenant?” Bridger shouted. He was mad, madder than Krieg had ever seen him. Ben bit his tongue hard to keep his typical smart-alack remark from escaping. It had truly been an innocent prank – just a little something to lighten the mood. Now Ben worried he might be facing a court marshal, or worse.

“I apologize, sir. My efforts were to lift the crew’s spirits. I didn’t mean,” he paused, wincing at the memory. “I never intended for anything disrespectful to take place. Truly.”

Ford scoffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Commander Hitchcock has gone to bat for you more times than I can count, Lieutenant, and this is how you repay her?”

Ben winced visibly. He’d done a lot of sketchy things in his past, some better than others, but he always thought of Katie as one of his bright spots. He knew he was marrying out of his league, and when he thought back on their whirlwind romance and short-lived marriage all he could see were his failures.

He was surprised it had lasted as long as it had.

“I have,” his voice cracked, and he swallowed hard to regain his composure. “I have nothing but the utmost respect for Ka – for Commander Hitchcock. I know you may not believe me,” he said, catching Ford’s expression, “but it’s the truth.” He looked up, meeting Bridger and Crocker’s gaze. “I would never hurt her.”

Crocker heaved a heavy sigh, shaking his head, and looking down at his shoes. Ford’s opinion of Ben was unfavorable, and well-known. But the Captain…

“I had doubts about keeping a divorced couple aboard when I first arrived, Lieutenant, but the two of you seemed capable of handling it.” He looked pensive, drawing his lips into a tight line. “I’ve had other vessels try to poach Commander Hitchcock, but she’s incredibly valuable to this crew. In light of this deep embarrassment, however,” he paused, and Ben couldn’t stop himself as the words tumbled out of him.

“Sir, please don’t send her away. I’ll do anything. Send me instead, but not her. She is valuable – she’s the most valuable person on this ship. She… she doesn’t deserve to be exiled for a stupid stunt on my part. She was never the target, and if I could go back and change it, I would. Katie deserves the best, and SeaQuest is the best. Please.” Ben had never been one to beg, but he was begging now. He’d always hoped one day they could rekindle what they once had, partially because he knew he had her trust, if not her affection. But after today he knew he’d destroyed that, as well.

Ben felt hot tears prick his eyes, and he hated himself for it. He wasn’t crying for himself; he was crying because he’d had a chance at something beautiful and amazing with someone he held dearer than anybody else on this earth, and he’d done what he did best: screwed it up.

He hated himself for it every damn day.

He knew his superior officers could see him struggling to compose himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel ashamed. Every fiber of his being was directing that at what he’d done to his ex-wife. “I…,” he tried, shook his head, and wiped his face. He opened his mouth to start again, but Bridger held his hand up, silencing him.

“That’s enough, Ben.” Bridger sighed, looking at Crocker, shaking his head.

“You still love her,” Ford breathed, a look of wonder on his face at the revelation. “Why the hell would you ever divorce her if you still loved her?”

Ben looked up showing his red eyes and tear-stained face. “It’s what she wanted. She wasn’t happy, and nothing I did was helping, so…,” he gestured helplessly. “If you love someone you want them to be happy. Even if it isn’t with you.” He dropped his gaze, swallowing hard.

Bridger nodded, sinking into a chair. “That’ll be all, Commander. The Chief and I can take it from here.” Ford nodded, shutting the door behind him, and Ben waited for the ax to fall. It was coming – he just knew it.

Instead, Crocker moved across the room, wrapping the younger man in a strong hug, clapping him on the back reassuringly. “It’s all right, son,” he said, even though Ben knew it wasn’t. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be all right.”

#fictober22 #fictober #fictober 2022 #seaquest dsv #seaquest #seaquest fanfiction #ben krieg #chief crocker #captain nathan bridger #nathan bridger #katherine hitchcock #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction.net #fanfic #fan fiction #ben loves katie #and he always will #crocker's the dad we all know and love #i miss them

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fanonical · 1 year

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the funny thing about 'everything is homestuck' is that homestuck encompasses so many things that everything legitimately is homestuck. ben stiller movies? homestuck. apple juice? homestuck. chess? homestuck. blood as a concept? homestuck. cthulhu? homestuck. juggalos? homestuck. betty crocker? homestuck. arms? oh baby that's the most homestuck thing of all

#Homestuck

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butch-bracket · 2 months

Text

BUTCH BRACKET Round 1

Rules & Guidelines

If you notice any issues with the matchups or submissions please let me know!

Matchups under the cut, polls will be linked once they're posted.

Bracket A

Jess McCready (A League of Their Own) vs. Shelley Byron (Doom Patrol)

Lupe García (A League of Their Own) vs. Desdemona (Fortnite)

Jo DeLuca (A League of Their Own) vs. Min Suh (My Princess Charming)

Vi (A League of Their Own) vs. Darling Charming (Ever After High)

Max Chapman (A League of Their Own) vs. Faye (Questionable Content)

Chloe Kitagawa (Belle of the Ball) vs. Imtura Tal Kaelen (Choices: Blades of Light and Shadow)

Kase Tomoka (Kase-san snd Morning Glories) vs. Miyake Aoi (D4DJ)

Hoshiumi Asa (Haikyuu) vs. Kyoutani Kentarou (Haikyuu)

Annabelle Cheddar (Dimension 20: A Crown of Candy) vs. Sir Amanda Maillard (Dimension 20: A Crown of Candy) vs. Captain Jan De La Vega (Dimension 20: A Starstruck Odyssey)

Kristen Applebees (Dimension 20: Fantasy High) vs. Evan Kelmp (Dimension 20: Misfits and Magic) vs. Chieftess Cleva Katzon (Dimension 20: The Ravening War)

Cynthia Zdunowski (Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies) vs. Lake (Infinity Train)

Anne Lister (Gentleman Jack) vs. Sasha Nein (Psychonauts)

Tracer/Lena Oxton (Overwatch) vs. Zarya/Aleksandra Zaryanova (Overwatch)

Moira O'Deorain (Overwatch) vs. Junker Queen (Overwatch)

Brigitte Lindholm (Overwatch) vs. Susie (Deltarune)

Riot Maidstone (Hello from the Hallowoods) vs. Striga (Castlevania)

Bonnibel Bubblegum (Adventiure Time: Fionna and Cake) vs. Cassie Sandsmark (DC Comics)

The Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who) vs. The Twelfth Doctor (Doctor Who)

Sevika (Arcane) vs. Vi (Arcane)

Geeta (Pokémon Scarlet/Violet) vs. Rika (Pokémon Scarlet/Violet)

Kim (My Candy Love) vs. Jean (Blue Jean)

Naberius Kalego (Mairimashita! Iruma-Kun) vs. Opera (Mairimashita! Iruma-Kun)

Zen'in Maki (Jujutsu Kaisen) vs. Jane Crocker (Homestuck)

Rainbow Dash (My Little Pony) vs. Applejack (My Little Pony)

Dame Aylin (Baldur's Gate 3) vs. Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate 3)

Karlach (Baldur's Gate 3) vs. Kevin E. Levin (Ben 10 Ultimate Alien/Alien Force)

Jillian Holtzmann (Ghostbusters (2016)) vs. Kena Mwaura (Rafiki)

Emmy Altava (Professor Layton) vs. Chloe Price (Life Is Strange)

Lois (Dykes to Watch Out For) vs. Kora (Rebel Moon)

Mo (Dykes to Watch Out For) vs. Kipo (Kipo And The Age Of Wonderbeasts)

Niamh Brody (Any Way The Wind Blows) vs. Jamie (Butch Jamie)

Kenjou Akira/Cure Chocolat (KiraKira Precure a la Mode) vs. Hinomori Shiho (Hatsune Miku: Colorful Stage)

Bracket B

Tenoh Haruka/Sailor Uranus (Sailor Moon) vs. Arkady Patel (The Strange Case of Starship Iris)

Nahara Satrinava (The Arcana) vs. Nazali Satrinava (The Arcana)

Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb) vs. Isabel Lovelace (Wolf 359)

Pyrrha Dve (The Locked Tomb) vs. Alice "Daisy" Tonner (The Magnus Archives)

Park Jae-In (Sora & Haena!) vs. Thatcher Davis (The Mandela Catalogue)

Jess Goldberg (Stone Butch Blues) vs. Lady Lesso (The School for Good And Evil)

Undyne (Undertale) vs. Van Palmer (Yellowjackets)

Amaya (The Dragon Prince) vs. Tenjou Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena)

Burn (Wings of Fire) vs. Moonwatcher (Wings of Fire)

Tsunami (Wings of Fire) vs. Asha (Wings of Fire)

Moonlight (Warriors) vs. Mothwing (Warriors)

Anybodys (West Side Story (1961)) vs. Anybodys (West Side Story (2021))

Mitsuki Koga (The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn't a Guy At All) vs. Rachel Lindt/Hellhound/Bitch (Worm)

Warthog (Trinity) vs. Susie Myerson (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)

Jay (Star Stable) vs. Sabine (Star Stable)

Alex Cloudmill (Star Stable) vs. Korra (The Legend of Korra)

Adora (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) vs. Huntara (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Catra (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) vs. Scorpia (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Pearl (Splatoon) vs. Kit Tanthalos (Willow)

Sun Jing (Tamen De Gushi) vs. Coral (The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes)

Buliara (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom) vs. Urbosa (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Ganondorf (The Legend of Zelda) vs. Impa (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Tetra (The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker) vs. Linkle (Hyrule Warriors)

Queen Barb (Trolls) vs. Viva (Trolls)

Hunter (The Owl House) vs. Willow Park (The Owl House)

Luz Noceda (The Owl House) vs. Raine Whispers (The Owl House)

Blaze the Cat (Sonic the Hedgehog) vs. Vector the Crocodile (Sonic the Hedgehog)

Surge the Tenrec (Sonic the Hedgehog) vs. Ali (The Big Con)

Garnet (Steven Universe) vs. Ruby (Steven Universe)

Bismuth (Steven Universe) vs. Roman (Sanders Sides)

Saira (We Are Lady Parts) vs. Kim (Yes Or No)

Lucy Kensington (Where The Stars Fell) vs. Yang Xiao Long (RWBY)

#butch bracket #round 1 #matchups #not a poll

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ilikekidsshows · 3 months

Note

I heard Paramount will make a LA of Danny Phantom, what do u think about it?

I looked into this and, apparently, it's so early in development we have no crew working on it yet. There's no director, no writers and definitely no actors, so it's really hard to make guesses for how this might go.

Superhero liveaction has made leaps in quality, but it's also suffering from stagnation (probably because we have up to four films a year coming from the same company). Superhero movies for kids tend to be more imaginative, but live action movies based on children's animated shows are more hit or miss. I did not enjoy the first Ben 10 film, but Alien Swarm was actually a lot of fun, and the Fairly Odd Parents films have varying levels of enjoyability, being at their best when Crocker's actor delivers the most convincing live action Crocker performance ever conceived.

It really depends on whether or not the people they pick to spearhead the project will understand why people love Danny Phantom so much it still has a robust fandom twenty years after its initial airing, and if the executives will let them focus on what makes Danny Phantom popular instead of trying to mimic the big budget superhero films that "appeal to a mass audience".

I hope they let it remain spooky and unnerving as soon as you pause to think about it instead of nerfing it into bog-standard superhero action, is what I'm saying.

#danny phantom

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