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#stan the happy fits
avesseloflanguage · 10 months
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a curated boygenius listening experience:
Stay Down
Favor
Please Stay
Graceland Too
Anti-Curse
what's the experience ? you might ask. well. it's realizing you have something to swim back to on the shore.
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tadisstrange · 3 months
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I finally decided to choose an art tag, so to commemorate here are some pieces i bring to you…
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From now on Cheese Boodles will be my art tag! Im planning to post more of my art throughout the year so be on the lookout
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go-bonkers-go-foolish · 6 months
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can you imagine watching a character literally physically drag himself away from the people who love him, repeating "you’re born alone and you die alone", and then watching said character die surrounded by all the people who love him dearly, physically supported by an embodiment of his crew's care for him, held and loved and knowing he was a good person, with a smile on his face, after experiencing sheer joy for the first time in years because of their love and acceptance and care, being shown how much he was loved and how wrong he was about being born alone and dying alone, and then going "um actually this is bury your gays and a cheap unfitting ending for his arc? i'm so disappointed"??? could NOT be me
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roostertuftart · 1 year
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Welp. I impulsively made the very incomplete WIP public on YouTube so ig I’ll post it here too.
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Project I did as a final last semester. The green art was actually made about 2 years ago around when vax special aired and I touched it up/completed the concept (in a bit of a rush at the end) for class.
Kind of a character study for Kyle as a whole and what I thought he probably would be going through after losing his friends in Vax special- First he’s feeling angry and frustrated, then he kind of lowkey dissociates, then his pent up emotions finally spill over and he finds himself crying which is supposed to be a big deal since he really doesn’t do that very much!
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godsfavoritescientist · 4 months
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Ehy, I was curious, what's the plot of your long fic?
I'm glad it's piqued your interest! There are many pieces to it that I'm still ironing out the details on and/or will not spoil when it comes to actual plot events, but here's what I will say:
The Axolotl feels so much love for Bill, and genuinely believes in him, and at the start of the fic Bill is perplexed and offput by this. And my goal here is for Bill to understand that love by the end of the fic.
So the plot is like this:
1. Bill meets the Axolotl
2. The self-destructive downward spiral angst megavortex kickstarted by bill being brought back in a human body
3. Character growth, probably
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jokerownsmysoul · 1 year
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In this house we love Arthur's brown polo shirt. this is a stan account in case you were wondering
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hellcheerficdatabase · 11 months
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life after death and taxes
Author: elanor_gamgee
Rating/Warning: Teen and up audience
Chapter Count: 18/19
Description: chrissy's student loans won't pay themselves, and she could really use a new roommate. the problem is, the only person available is the much-feared dungeon master from the d&d store down the street. and she's not too sure that she can trust him.
Tags: Alternate universe- no vecna, alternate universe- modern au, Chrissy is in college, mama Joyce Byers, marriage of convenience, slow-burn, we stan Wayne Munson, Henry Creel is a landlord, it fits, mutual pining, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, alternating POV multiple chapters, status: WIP
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pinkargylesweater · 1 year
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I don’t wanna start a fight but…some of you really are allergic to the idea of Kyle being happy with someone.
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torturedpoetsdpmt · 6 months
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I bought the cardigan and the crew neck!!
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losersclublol · 2 years
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streddie is p!atd’s whole discography as people
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thekingofspin · 13 days
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we all love fix it fics but why is the market for anti fix it fics so small?
I wanna see alternate universes were we ruin everyone's favourite happy endings
I present "break it fics"
which I guess is already a thing broadly speaking but I want it specified. completely cannon but change 1 thing and make everything fall appart.
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mynightsoutofsight · 3 months
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THE HAPPY FITS GOT NEW MEMBERS GUYSSSSSSSSSSSS !!!!!!!!!!
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jobean12-blog · 25 days
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Boom Clap
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 1,063
Summary: Before tonight you wouldn't have been able to label your relationship with Bucky but after he gets home earlier than expected from a mission and shows up at the bar everything changes.
Author's Note: Just because, I love him and this look ends me every time and it's lightly based on this song Boom Clap by Charli XCX. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you 🥰
Warnings: it's just Bucky being irresistible and soft too
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“Well, something clearly more interesting than this conversation is going on in your mind. Would you like to share it with the rest of us?”
Two pairs of glittering eyes stare at you, twin knowing smiles gracing your friend’s lips and you frantically try to recall what the three of you had been discussing.
“There’s only one thing that can be giving her that look,” Nat laughs. “A man.”
“And not just any,” Wanda adds.
“Bucky,” both women say simultaneously and with devious grins.
You sip your drink to hide your smile.
“You must miss him since he’s been away on the mission all week,” Wanda muses.
You don’t say it but you do miss him. A lot.
“So what exactly is going on with you two?” Nat asks
With a nonchalant shrug you sip your drink again and try to figure out how to label your relationship with Bucky. Your friends wait, expressions expectant but playful.
If you had a definitive answer you would share it but ever since the two of you started hanging out neither of you had given it a label. You were just enjoying each other. In every way. You were happy being with him, that much of which you were sure.
“Umm…” you start.
That’s the only word you get out before you see Wanda and Nat’s drinks pause halfway to their mouths. Their eyes are trained on something just beyond your shoulder, toward the entrance of the bar.
Several other women at the bar pause their own conversation and you sense the shift in energy.
He’s here.
You place your drink down on the bar and turn. Bucky stands just inside the doorway, his black jacket draped over his broad shoulders and his covetous blue eyes focused on you.
Awareness races across your skin coupled with a heat only he can set ablaze. Your pulse quickens and you fight the urge to run into his arms.
He wears all black, from his tight fitted shirt down to his leather boots and his strong jaw is shadowed with dark hair. When he walks toward you at the bar, he moves with such sensual purpose that you notice another woman swooning.
He looks hungry and determined.
And he’s here for you.
You reach out and grab your drink, downing it in one long sip.
Without removing his gaze from yours, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, turning it over and kissing the inside of your wrist, then your palm, then finally, your fingertips.
This time, you hear the breath woosh from Nat and Wanda but Bucky shows no reaction, appearing oblivious to anything else but you.
“Guess he’s back,” Nat whispers to Wanda. You barely catch the words as Bucky consumes your every thought.
“I missed you doll,” he whispers against your wrist.
“I missed you too,” you reply breathlessly.
He lowers your hand from his mouth and keeps hold of it between your bodies. With a soft tug he brings you closer, leaning into your neck and whispering along the shell of your ear.
“Come home with me?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” you murmur.
“Yes, I do doll. I would never take you for granted.”
Your free hand slides up his chest to his jaw, tracing the outline before you softly press your lips to his. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathes you in.
“I’m just going to use the restroom and say goodbye to Nat and Wanda. Meet you back here in five.”
“Hurry,” he murmurs, letting his eyes sparkle with words of unspoken want.
You rush off toward the bathroom, Nat and Wanda right behind you and after relieving yourself and filling your friends in you search for Bucky’s tall figure.
You find him standing at the bar, taking to someone. As you get closer, you see that the woman is standing close enough to brush against him. Unable to see Bucky’s face, you watch as she runs a hand along his arm with a gentle squeeze of his bicep, smiling at him flirtatiously.
Your heart drops into your stomach and you feel your eyes well with unshed tears but you can’t stop your forward movement. Bucky’s face comes into view. His eyes aren’t on the woman but furiously scanning the room. He looks uncomfortable, backing away from her and saying something you can’t hear.
You consider turning and running out but that wouldn’t be fair. You and Bucky have no official label, have never agreed to be exclusive. You can’t even blame the other woman for approaching him. He’s impossible to resist. You should know.
But then his eyes meet yours and you see all the emotions rushing through them, but mostly you see relief.
Taking a deep breath, you continue to walk forward. Bucky holds his arm out, his eyes begging you to walk into his embrace.
You slide into his side in time to hear him say, “here she is. This is my…”
“Girlfriend,” you finish, smiling and extending your hand with your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Wow, lucky girl,” the woman says as she shakes your hand. “You deserve an award for landing a man like this.”
“I don’t need an award. I’ve got him,” you say as you reach down and take his left hand in yours.
Your eyes meet Bucky’s. “Ready to take me home Buck?”
“Always doll.”
Your hand stays tightly tucked in Bucky’s as you walk down the street toward his apartment. You turn toward him, the warm breeze caressing your skin and the city lights dancing in your eyes. His breath catches in his throat as your lips spread into a wide and reassuring smile.
He stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk and pulls you flush against his chest, his eyes wandering over your face.
“Are you really mine?” he asks as he dips his head. “You’re really my girl?”
“Yours Bucky. I have been from the beginning.”
His fingers spread across your lower back and he slowly drags his hand along the curve of your spine, every inch he covers pressing you closer against him until he reaches your neck and traces the delicate column before cradling your cheek.
He sweeps his thumb along your skin and holds your lips just centimeters from his, whispering, “mine,” as his eyes close and his mouth captures yours.
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@randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50
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staneatscrayons · 1 year
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SPLAT!!!
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syrma-sensei · 3 months
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→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.
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gif credit.
pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.
rating: explicit.
warnings: vought's ungodly shenanigans, mentions of cheating, couple fighting, angst, misogyny, antiquated mentality, dub-con, power imbalance, fingering, forced orgasms, angry sex, cock riding...
word count: 3.4k
summary: being america's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free...
taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @venus-haze, @thebiggerbear...
A/N: I'd like to thank my two pretty moots, @kaleldobrev who's been always there for me, listening to mental blurbs and chaotic spews of unhinged ideas and continuous mind dump ❤️ and @zepskies who bares my energy, which can be a bit much, each time I spam her dms with life cringing memes and awaful reacts ❤️
Kneeling down on one knee, your mitted hands hoisted the oven door close as you hummed a melody to yourself. Turning on your heels, you stood up and gave the dining table a once-over before allowing a proud grin slip on your lips.
“Perfect.”
Then your eyes glanced at your watch. It was half an hour past seven in the evening. Perfect. There'd be enough time to pamper yourself in a relaxing shower and spruce up with no rush before your husband was home.
You gave the dining room another glimpse to make sure everything was in place before you headed to the bathroom upstairs, walking through the living room where the T.V. displayed a Soldier Boy anti-drugs commercial.
A snore escaped your nose upon hearing the phrase: “Just say no.” Remembering how your husband threw a fit behind the scenes at how stupid it was, to the point of getting Stan Edgar himself on the line for him to find an alternative to it. Because no way he was saying that shit.
“God, I sounded like a fucking douchebag,” He'd told you in his dressing room, a smouldering reefer hanging between his lips — the irony, after they wrapped filming up.
You'd giggled, playfully plucking it from his lips to take a drag of your own, “No, baby, you did just fine.” You purred, and his mouth curled up into a small grin, “The public needs that y'know…” You tipped his chin up, your polished, long nails grazed lightly to his skin, “You're America's golden son, right? You're the man everyone should look up to.”
“Damn sure they should.” He'd chuckled, leaning down for a kiss which you gladly welcomed.
Being Soldier Boy's wife came with many many perks, but it also had its downsides, one of which was to have to deal with his short temper. But what could you say? You loved the man. Ardently so; you literally fought the world to have him all for yourself despite Vought's disapproval of your nuptial.
You savoured the victory when you married Ben in a small ceremony without Vought's blessing. It was like a slap to them when Ben imparted upon them the happy news, he delivered them a severe black eye, especially the vainglorious bastard Edgar. Who had once told you that you and Ben wouldn't work out, for it was simply "inconvenient" for a superhero like Soldier Boy to be involved in a serious relationship with a mere… human; it'd be a "disappointment" in the public eye, as he put it. Like he had a say in the matter.
But here you were, with a ring on your left hand to swagger about, and happily married to America's first hero, Edgar and Vought could say hello to your middle finger.
To nobody's surprise, you resented Vought, and held such abhorrence against them for not letting you and your husband live the life you wanted for yourselves. Despite your personal efforts, your proclaimed triumph was soon cut short because Vought declined to go public and endorse your marriage. Not that you and your husband gave two shits about their approval, but the rules were rules. And their lawyers affirmed that a public exposure of your marriage might damage Soldier Boy's rep, therefore, Vought's; given the fact that you were more than thirty years younger than him. They couldn't have it said that the hero of heroes was a creep even though they'd tried to conceal his age when he and Phoebe Cates starred in Love And War because it started to seem fishy. It was expected, though. But what you didn't see coming was Ben's response, or lack of response as to put it.
Despite being even more obdurate about this marriage than yourself. You felt terribly abjured by your husband. You'd thought he'd fight for you, for what you both had, and he'd want to let the world know about you. It'd broken your heart when it dawned upon you that Ben wouldn't risk his fame and glory for anyone, for you. Reluctantly, you bit the bullet, you had to, for him, because you loved him, and would do anything to keep this marriage intact. If you had to compromise for it, then so be it. You didn't care.
To your solace, Ben never changed after the frustrating incident; he was still the man you fell in love with. He might be smug, crass, and insufferable to everyone but you could still perceive the tender side he had though he'd never actually admit it, and you never pushed him too much. You were subtle enough to know when to stroke his ego and when to tease it. He was a man, after all. But it was obvious; he was a doting husband who cherished you in his own way. He showered you with gifts, and pampered you when he could. And he was eager to have babies with you. He never ceased to express how rapturous he would be if he were to have a son. A child with you.
Sure, you had your own qualms about that particular day, and there was more than a time you wanted to have a conversation with him about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to screw it up with stupid doubts. If Ben hadn't truly loved you, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did, he wouldn't have brought you to his workplace to have you at his side — and to poke Vought's eye every single time. He wouldn't have let you in and told you about his family and his dad, about his fucked-up childhood and how he became a hero.
No, your bond was bigger than any fleeting thoughts of incredulity.
You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.
Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.
The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.
On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.
Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.
Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.
You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.
Soldier Boy finally found the one!
Your heart paced up with each press.
A long awaited power couple is now here!
Vought just shocked the world by—
And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…
It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.
“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.
Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”
You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.
Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”
Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.
You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.
“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”
You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.
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“Honey, I'm home.” Ben announced once he stepped in the house. He sighed, putting his shield down and making his way to the kitchen where you usually would be, making his dinner. He didn't take his boots off though he knew you'd throw a fit about it, but let's just say that teasing and screwing with you was his favourite hobby. His anticipating grin soon dropped and a small scowl knitted his brows when an odd mixture of scents wafted into his nose. His eyes dilated at the unusual messy scene in the kitchen; the table was flipped over, glass splints scattered all over the floor, freshly-cooked food covering the carpet beneath the dining table, and a chocolate pie was squashed into the wall.
With a pacing heart, Ben cried your name, and hurriedly climbed up the stairs. His feet darted to the bedroom when he heard you sniffling and weeping.
An audible sigh of relief flouted out of chest when he saw you. Your hair was wet and a damp towel wrapped around your body, but his eyebrow quirked up when he noticed you packing a bag on the bed. The fuck?
“(Y/N), the fuck is going here?” You scared the shit outta me. He wanted to say, after the shitty day he had, he just wanted to have you in his arms and play with your hair.
You startled for a moment when you heard his southern accent. You used to be fond of it, but today you were certainly not.
“I'm leaving.” Your answer came out curt, your hands tugging your bag zippers close.
You heard his footsteps getting closer until you felt his hand on your bare shoulder, “What happened to you, sweetheart?”
You pulled yourself away from his hold, hissing, “Don't you fucking touch me!”
He didn't seem to heed your warning as he reached a hand to your face. Gritting your teeth, you spun around with your hand ready to deliver a slap to his cheek. However, and no matter how fast and pissed you were, he was always quicker and alerter. Fucking supe.
“You don't get to touch me ever again you asshole!” You shrieked, yanking your wrist from his grasp, your wet hair stuck to your face, chest heaving with each breath. 
“The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!” He growled with a deep scowl, “Just left you all happy and giggling in the morning, is it here? Your time of the month again?”
“Fuck you!” You spat, clenched hands rising up to his chest, “You're my fucking problem,” You jabbed a fist to chest, though he didn't move an inch, but damn didn't it feel good! You blew another punch to his stupidly firm chest again and again.
“Fucking Christ!” He grumbled, and with one strong arm, Ben wrangled your back against his chest and caged you in his steel hold, one hand securing both of your wrists above your head, “Calm the fuck down!”
Legs kicking and hands tugging, you tried to wriggle out of his arms but to no avail, you felt so helpless against his raw strength. Your anger and frustration poured out of your mouth in a wailing, broken voice, “Leave. Me. Alone!” You bellowed, “Go to your fucking Crimson Bitch!” Two rivulets of tears drizzled from your eyes again, “Go to your fucking Tess and let her fire-crack your nuts, you fucking pussy!”
“Christ on a cross, do you hear yourself talk, woman?!”
His eyes widened before his eyebrows scrunched deeply. He took you off guard when he brought you down to the floor as he crouched on one knee. Your towel unwrapped at the sudden movement and you were naked beneath his eyes. His hands were still holding you in place.
Two green eyes regarded you softly, “You really took that marketing shit for real?” He thumbed your lower lip, and his free hand trailed down your naked form. “Fucking hell, thought you were way smarter than that, sweetheart.” You shivered from both the cold and his touch, his sinful reaching your mound, “You really think I'd fucking leave you for her?”
You couldn't suppress the moan when he stroked your throbbing clit. A shot of arousal seeped out of your opening much to Ben's satisfaction. Anger made the colour of your face rise, “Fuck you! Fuck your bitch! Fuck Vought!” You spat, your eyes burning holes into his as he proceeded toying with your flesh until your voice broke, “Y-You want me to buy your shit — Ah!” Two of his thick and expert digits entered your slit, massaging your love spots thoroughly. “After you didn't stand up for our marriage?!” You groaned, hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers.
“Is that so?” His brow quirked up amusedly. Was this funny to this bastard? Was your marriage some kind of a joke to him?
You gasped as he deliberately hit your weak spot; sweet, delightful coils fluttered at the tip of your stomach, “I was under the fucking impression that you had your pretty, little head wrapped around how this fucking business worked!” He snarled.
“Fuck you! I hate you!” Your body snapped as you came abundantly on his fingers which made him grin slyly down at you.
You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, so you took your window and jerked yourself free. He was shocked when you pushed him down on the floor and straddled his hips, your dripping cunt was drenching his pants with your cum. He raised a playful brow at you but soon was replaced by a shocked frown when you slapped his irritatingly handsome face.
“Fucking hell, you fucking little ballbuster—”
You shushed him with a finger on his lips, “You're fucking mine, Benjamin, you hear me! You're fucking mine!” You hissed, having no idea where your vigour came from as you tore his shirt off of his chest. His length poked you when you gazed with searing fire in your eyes at his, “You. Belong. To. Me.” You furiously tucked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing out with life.
A wanton moan came off your lips as you sunk yourself down his cock, whereas he grumbled in pleasure as you hugged him tightly with your wet and warm insides.
You snapped your hips harshly and he growled, “Fuck, doll—!”
Another snap, your voice was laboured, “I own you. You're married not to that whore, not to Vought, but to me!”
Your skin slammed against his meat vehemently as you gritted your teeth when another orgasm was spiralling in your body. You paced up your movement, a hand banging demandingly on his chest, “Say it! You're fucking mine!”
“Holy shit!” You watched his eyes roll backwards as he rasped, “Yours, babe,”
“Holy fuck, Ben! Ben, I'm coming again!”
That was his cue to take control again. He sat up, cradling you in his warm hold, “Cum to me, babe, fucking soak my cock.” You wabled his name, clinging to his shoulders as your climax stormed out of your body like a mad hurricane. You whimpered pathetically when his two large hands on your hips kept making you ride him through your high.
“Fucking stupid girl,” He growled, shooting his seed up your insides.
With laboured breaths, you glared at each other. You felt his cock softening inside of you, “Fucking idiot man.” You scoffed.
He chuckled with a boyish grin on his sweaty face, “That was fucking hot, think I like this wild side of you, darlin'”
You snickered, “You bet, wait until you see what I'm gonna do with that little fuck, Edgar.”
Ben rumbled a deep chortle, much to your annoyance, would this man ever take you seriously? “I swear to fucking Christ, Ben, if they—you don't break off that stupid shit with Countess and go public about us, I'll fucking burn that fucking tower to the fucking ground, because I'm fucking done with this—mhmmm!”
He cut you off with a scorching kiss and its heat made you thaw against his lips. His cock twitched inside of you.
“Jealousy looks pretty on you though, sweetheart” He teased, his lips brushing to yours.
God, damn this man and his endless ego! “Ben!” You nudged him playfully.
“Can't wait to see you wanting to snatch some ladies' heads off when we go to balls together.”
You smiled at him, biting on your bottom lip. The idea of finally being acknowledged as Ben's wife warmed your heart, and his willingness to do so made your heart race. However, disturbing thoughts loomed in your head again, “Think Vought will let us be?” You asked with hesitation. Fuck, that shit really got too deep into you.
He rolled his eyes, “Try not to work your pretty head hard 'bout this, doll,” He tucked a tress of your hair behind your ear, “The man who fucking beat the Nazis can handle some sweaty fucknuts at Vought.” There was something warmly reassuring about his smugness.
“See? All that shit wouldn't happen if you didn't stay silent while they fucking tried to play their fucking game!”
Ben chuckled, “Well, the fucking was totally worth it.”
You groaned in frustration, “Ben… I thought you abandoned me.”
Your husband furrowed his brows at you, “You women hardly think sometimes, don't you?” You scowled at his remark but he sighed, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands, “I fucking fought to make you my wife. I fucking put my whole career and name at risk for you.” You blinked at him, “The day before we tied our knot, I fucking told the boardroom that I was marrying you, that I'd fucking walk off if they tried anything funny… they didn't, till fucking today.” He sighed, “They fucking announced that bullshit before I was even told.”
“Assholes,” You whispered.
“After that pathetic act, I fucking stormed to Edgar like I stormed Normandy. Let's say that he and I did a little bit of chatting,” He gave you a conceited smirk, giving you no detail of how he got scared shitless when he saw the mess in the kitchen. He thought Vought dared to fucking do something to you. And when he heard you cry he feared the worst. But of course, he wouldn't tell you anything about that. Because he was the fucking man of this house; if his feelings of fear appeared, the sense of security he provided to this house, to you, would crumble. And he wouldn't have that. Ever.
You, on the other hand, had a weird combination of pride and happiness sprouted within your chest.
“I'm so sorry, Ben…” You said, cupping his face in your hands, “I-I don't know what came over me when I saw you with her,” You couldn't even say her name.
“Couldn't have your man stolen away, could you?” He teased you.
“Never.” You answered, “And I'm sorry for what happened, husband.”
“I mean you did make it up for me, wife,” He flashed you a cheeky grin, “Though, I don't feel particularly in a forgiving mood… yet.”
Head tilting to the side, your raised an eyebrow, rolling your hips teasingly on his cock, “Don't push your luck…”
“Try me.”
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Dam being a Jason Grace stan in the fandom is a fucking tragedy lol. Not only do we have to deal with him being screwed over by uncle Rick, but we have to deal with the fandom hating him aswell lol, i feel like Jason Grace slander wouldnt affect me half as much if his character had gotten a happy ending. I just saw an Instagram reel about a "character's povs you skipped through'' and the comments were flooded with Jason Grace just like I'd expected lol 😭 like blud has no mercy there.
It took all my will power to not defend him under a comment that called him "homophobic", I cannot believe that comment had 4 people agreeing aswell like- did we read the same books? Did they completey skip over the coming out chapter in HOH where jason was literally the first person to tell Nico not to be ashamed of liking guys and that no one would judge him? the guy is legit one of the least problematic characters and does nothing mean, how is he even CONSIDERED in the homophobic area anyway? (he also gets slandered for being "too nice" aswell lol) so seeing him wind up in such a contradictory accusation just screams tone deaf and anti-jason bias tbh, Nico legit said he considered jason as one of his first friend/supporter (apart from his sisters) in TSATS :') its like ppl keep throwing in these false stuff bc they WANT to find a reason to hate him. (dont take this as me saying you are not allowed to hate him or something cuz that would be quite hypocritical of me, wouldnt it? i just hate that ppl make up problematic hcs of him and push them as canon, it would taint non-reader's perception of him because of false info, what if a non reader stumbled across that comment and immediately figured that jason was indeed homophobic even when he wasn't?)
Also, can we please normalize NOT judging a person for their character preferences? I like jason and i am aware that its an unpopular take, but that doesnt make me any less of a pjo fan. The fandom seems pretty aggressive when we dont follow the popular opinion. i have seen multiple ppl pretend to hate jason simply bc they WANT to fit in and "look cool", since the fandom has a tendency to use Jason as a punching bag to insult like "he's a knockoff percy" or "he thinks he's so cool but he's not". or smth, so when people do claim jason as a favourite, a huge chunk of the fandom start belittling them and go like "really? Out of all characters, why jason?" Or "Percy/Leo is better, I don't understand why you like Jason"
okay thanks for coming to my ted talk. i am aware that i was yapping here. unfair Jason Grace slander does that to me.
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