#the irony that this is something ben did say AND that there is someone on the atlus music team that goes by his name fkldajslfkja

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

heard there was discourse in the tag, so I'll just leave this here

#persona 4 #p4 #persona 4 golden #p4g #i ain't going in the tag yall do you #the irony that this is something ben did say AND that there is someone on the atlus music team that goes by his name fkldajslfkja #we got layers here LOTS OF LAYERS #i'm just swinging at the bees nest klfjdsaklfa

[syrma-sensei]

→ Home.

gif credit.

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: fluff, implied smut.

warning: bens's pov, very soft ben, implied pregnant sex, praising, horny reader, antiquated mentality....

word count: 2.4k

summary: ben's discovering new life affairs while expecting his first baby.

tagging: @zepskies

→ masterlist | ao3

Soldier Boy guzzled down his third raw drink before he decided to call it a day and go home. He took off his supe gear and changed into more casual clothes in the dressing room in his quarters at Vought's tower after he took a quick shower. He shook his head with a sneer when he tugged the shirt above his head, remembering her telling him —bossing him— that he wasn't to come home stinking with blood and cigars and whiskey and Vought. Soldier Boy didn't take shit from anyone, but he found himself helpless against her wishes—orders. He was grinning though, amusedly so. Sometimes he wondered where his obedient and good wife went. He liked that version of her, nonetheless.

Though he liked to think that his baby was igniting her wild spirit, his pretty wife seemed to have gotten quite sensitive to strong scents, and her stomach grew weak ever since he got her pregnant with their first child four months ago. It was chiselled in his mind; the memory of her hoping onto his chest with happy shrieks when he returned from work affirming the news.

He had been sensing the baby's presence for a week thanks to his superhuman senses before that, and he'd told her that night to go check on it with a doctor. They were eagerly trying to have a baby so it was of no surprise, but it still pulled a huge smile on his lips and made pride swell in his chest. He was going to be a father in nine months. The thing he wanted to be the most.

But as it turned out, pregnancy wasn't as magical as his mind fantasised to be. It wasn't all fuzzy and beautiful like he imagined. He cursed the damn commercials for that. Fucking marketing.

The first couple of months were rough. Morning sickness, vomiting, ungodly cravings at ungodly hours, horrendous mood swings, and worst of all; minimum intimacy. She'd become fragile unlike her nature. And she got overly concerned that he might hurt the baby whenever he suggested penetrative sex. Orals were, certainly, out of the equation. It was both frustrating and maddening to say the least. He was a fucking man and had needs. The best he could get was quick and not so enthusiastic handies from time to time when she could provide. Long story short, he was growing blue balls from the ordeal. Fuck, he used to make fun of men who couldn't get laid properly. The irony had such an impact on his ego; his pride of being a fucking man.

It was not easy for someone like him to stay faithful to his partner. He rarely recognised commitment before he met her, and being surrounded by blatant temptations all the time didn't make things any better. He could have anyone at any time, ladies would eagerly kneel and suck him off without a question if he wanted them to. But he'd be damned if he wasn't in charge of his own self. He'd be damned if he dared to break her heart. He'd be damned if he ruined his family, a family he never thought he'd ever have, for such vagaries.

In time, however, pregnancy did prove itself to be the most beautiful of all affairs. Surprisingly so. Whenever he spooned her up hugging her from behind, he found odd tranquillity of hearing hers and the babe's rhythmical heartbeats, or when he caressed her bumping tummy, feeling his child's life forming inside of her body, a creature they both made, lack of sex seemed to be durable and trivial at some point. Something he himself wouldn't believe before. But here he was. His disgust and appal from what pregnancy entailed gradually dissipated and were replaced with zeal and thrill. And most certainly, he enjoyed the changes of her body the most. Ben just loved the way her boobs were swelling up with milk, and the way her stomach was flourishing with his child. Boob massage was something he greatly took pleasure in. Kneading her sore breasts while hearing her moans of relief. He'd come to learn that intimacy could be found in many other things than sex.

Ben noticed he'd come to hating every moment he spent away from them. His temper got much worse, his teammates observed. And he became more aggressive than he already was when fighting crime. The happiest moment of his day was when he dropped the shield and took the helmet off to head home, where his beautiful wife would be eagerly waiting to have dinner with him even though most of the nights he'd come home and find her dozing off on the couch where she'd been waiting for him. He'd carry her to their bedroom and have dinner by himself — he skipped that very often — then slip right behind her on the bed holding her close to his body. The concept of coming back home to someone was so much alluring to him. He felt his life was complete. Real.

Ben arrived at their penthouse, assuming he'd find her soundly sleeping while she stayed awaiting him. He didn't announce his return loudly as he used to do before the pregnancy. He didn't want to wake her up. But much to his surprise — and delight, Ben found the place dimly lit with scented candles, sensuous silence prevailing within the air.

Ben's eyes glimmered, and an instant wolfish grin slipped into his lips when his eyes landed on his wife's figure as she clambered down the stairs. A thin, short gown with a raunchy red colour hugged her frame, its fabric was so thin that he could see her skin glowing through the red. Her breasts were full, putting her cleavage on more display. Whereas the bump of her belly was deliciously visible. Her hair was neatly styled and spruced up and her pretty face was elegantly painted with make-up.

“Welcome home, Ben,” She warbled with a smile, eyes filled with sultry desire as she strolled down to him. He was dazzled by her appearance, he was practically eating her with his eyes. Fuck, pregnancy did make her much prettier. “Hope you didn't have dinner yet 'cause I made you something special tonight.”

Her palm grazed his stubbled cheek. Ben leaned into her touch, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm, a grin gracing his mouth. “'Course I didn't. Why the fuck would I eat outside when I have a capable wife like you at home?”

She giggled gleefully at his statement as he pulled her flush against his body. He eyed her with a hazed gaze. Her mouth was luring him in, deliciously so. He liked that lipstick shade on her lips so much. He couldn't but to give in to the utter temptation. Ben tilted his head down and captured them in a burning kiss. An instant moan escaped her throat as his mouth passionately pressed to hers. Her arms encircled his neck, hands combing through his brown hair. He synced their heads for a better angle, and deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into her warm mouth. His hands brushed her sides then her ass.

He broke the kiss momentarily and she gasped vehemently. He could hear the rapid pace of her heart and the gushing blood through her vein, pooling down in her groin. He crushed her lips again, hands travelling up to remove the dress but she squealed and pulled back.

“Benjamin, dinner's gonna get cold!” She laughed again when he buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin softly.

“Is that really what you're fucking concerned about now?” He grumbles in a teasing tone.

She giggled, “Should I be concerned about something else—woah!” Ben grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly, heading to the living room with her pretty legs around his hips. His lips plundering hers again all the way until they reached the couch where he sat with her straddling his lap. The kiss went wild once they settled comfortably on the couch. His big hands stroked her thighs ardently. They trailed up to her ass giving it a firm squeeze and she moaned in his mouth, plucking the rim of her satin panties. He smirked into the kiss, fingers tracing down to her core. His grin widened when he met her bare cunt.

“Oh, baby,” He rasps when she rolls her hips slowly, pressing her cunt on his clothed cock, “Aren't you a pretty fucking tease?” He tugged at the lip of the crotchless panties, a mischievous grin playing on his mouth.

She guffawed with a coquettish tilt of her head, and his cock twitched in an immediate response. However, the innocent look on her face opposed the tortuous pace of her hips. She was fucking tantalising him with those hips. And he fucking liked it despite the screaming urge growing in his chest to flip her over and fuck her raw. Oh, she did like it rough, the little slut. She liked to be beneath him and beg him to go harder and faster, to yank her hair and make her choke on his dick. She loved how he manhandled her with his superhuman strength despite being only a human, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't take great pleasure in it too. Ben's nothing if doesn't live to be in charge. He'd been shocked that a tiny woman like her could handle him as such. But he was quick to remember that she was with his fucking child. He couldn't go rough on her like he used to do even if they both craved it.

She didn't stop her torment as her delicate hands rested on his shoulders for support. He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal soaking his crotch and he growled, “Holy fuck, you gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, or you planning on making me cream my pants?”

Her lips twisted wickedly, “Depends,”

“On fucking what?” He grunted, brows furrowed, puzzled. He was way too hard and drunk by her scent to clearly think or read between her lines, “Baby, you're fucking killing me here.”

“Aw, am I to seal the greatest era of America's history?” She giggled again, “What an honour.”

Then it clicked. The fucking slut. She was tempting him to ravish her. Maybe he should, but again, he worried about her and the child. Because honestly, he wasn't so sure if he could restrain himself if he unbridled that side of his.

Then his mouth splitted in a huge grin, brushing his cheek to hers to grumble in her ear, “The only honour you're gonna get is milking my cock empty in that slutty pussy of yours.” He chuckled triumphantly when he sensed her shivering in delight. Leaning his head backward, he saw her chewing on her lower lip adorably with a cute pinkish red dusting across her face, whereas her eyes were searing with covetousness. Ben pecked her nose and lifted her up again, gently. She trilled a series of choppy laughters and playfully kicked her legs when he carried her to their bedroom.

Needless to say, she took whatever honour he bestowed upon her like a champ.

He was craving a whiff of a cigar. He used to smoke after a good fuck in bed, she'd even share him a couple of drags sometimes. But since it was off the table — temporarily — he focused on and enjoyed her fingers running on his chest.

Fuck, pregnant sex did feel amazing. He gotta admit. He did hear from here and there that a woman with child, at some point of her pregnancy, would be touched by sudden and high libidinousness. But fuck, didn't that catch him off guard. And fuck, if he didn't enjoy it down to the last minute detail. And dare he say, it was the best sex he ever had. It was perfect; she was perfect.

Never did he think that he'd find home, his real home in a simple elementary school teacher he met on one of his tours throughout the country. A beautiful and smart woman who always kept him on his toes and had him wrapped around her pretty fingers.

Ben smiled and kissed the crown of her head, and slowly, it turned into a trail of kisses down her face. Then he captured her lips, and soon enough, they were engaging in a heated make-out session.

“Ben,” She whispered as she gazed at him, voice a bit hoarse from screaming and crying beneath him for hours.

His hand was rubbing circles on her ass languidly, “What is it, dollface?” He drawls with a thick voice.

“Sorry for not being a good wife for you the last couple of months.” She said meekly, bringing his hands to cradle them in hers, while he just frowned at her words, “They were tough times on me, on us.” She sighed, pressing light kisses on his rough hands, “But everything's gonna be set right again, I promise.”

Ben's frown only got deeper when he noticed the lick of fear and desperation in her eyes and voice. Fuck, she was scared shitless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His wife was scared if he was screwing around on her because of her lack of attention due to the pregnancy, for she used to shower him with doting and devotion as a good wife did. Fuck, did he, by any mean, do anything wrong to arise such qualms in her? He certainly did not. Then he fucking remembered that nasty reputation of his that proceeded him.

Fuck, gotta reassure her and chill her the fuck down. He can't have her in such a position. He can't have his home in such a precarious, dark place. Not after what the two of them had done to build what they had up. He wouldn't allow it.

“Hey,” He passed rough-padded thumbs under the lines of her eyes, palms caressing her cheeks, “Nothing went fucking wrong to set back right, sweetheart,” Then he gave her belly tender strokes, “You're an amazing wife,”

She was; everyday she woke up, five in the morning, to prepare him a delicious-ass breakfast. She took it upon herself to be his barber and shaved his beard almost everyday and trimmed his hair every now and then. She was patient when he wasn't. She embraced him when he was practically a walking ticking bomb. She patched him up — when needed — at night when he'd return to her roughed up from fighting crimes. She soothed him down when frustrated and angry. She took his bad temper and relieved it thoroughly. She was everything. She was home.

Ben's finger flicked her nose playfully, “As I'm fucking sure yer gonna be an amazing hot momma,”

Ah, here it was, the sheepish smile that reached her eyes. He'd fucking cherish it forever.

He kissed her forehead, “You're perfect; my perfect wife, my perfect home.”

#soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x fem reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you #soldier boy imagine #the boys smut #the boys imagine #the boys soldier boy

[spiderbaby123]

Cal Stone x reader (fluffy fluff stuff)

Listen, it starts out with young Cal but all the actual romancey style stuff is when hes older. Dont get weird on me about kid Cal having a crush on you. I remember kids having crushes on me when I was a teen and it was just cute in an awe look at you with a big ole crush kinda way. Like the way id look at my brother having a crush on someone when he was young. Ok. Ok.

I avoided and gender terms so use what you want! 😘

You were Cal and Olive's best friend growing up, often spending the night and always trying to come over every chance possible. You wouldnt let on to Olive for obvious reasons but you had the biggest crush on her brother. When the plane disappeared you were often there for her and Grace, as they were you too. When your mom got sick and passed, Grace took you in completely. She had adopted you. That was 1 year before the plane returned. When it did, you were the most excited and terrified you had ever thought you could be. Mostly you were excited to see Cal. The shock that took over your body when you actually seen him was an understatement. He was still a child. Seeing him just the way he was the day they had left for their trip was freaky.

~months later~

By this point you had gotten used to everything, almost better than everyone else for that matter. You treated Cal more like a brother now. It was cute when he was around you though. He almost always had a small tint of pink on his cheeks. To think 5 year's ago you had a massive crush on him was weird, even weirder now because you thought he had a crush on you. Oh the irony, you thought.

~Mick and Zeke's wedding~

You had been sitting in the corner watching everyone dance. Cal had been staring at you for a while now smiling but not quite coming over. Finally after you had had enough of being stared at you walked over. "Cal?" He looked up and a blush appeared on his little face. "H-hey, y/n." "Wanna dance little bud?" You smiled holding your hand out for the boy. "Okay!" He perked up quickly grabbing your hand and jumping out of his seat.

~at Grace's funeral~

You had been sat with Olive and everyone at the very front. That's where you were expected to be. You had been adopted by her. She wasnt your mother but you were her daughter, even before she had adopted you she had always said that. You kept looking to Cal in his older body in the back away from everyone. "This isnt right." You mumbled before getting up and heading to him. Olive started to look as though she was going to protest it but didn't. "Hey." You said, once next to him. "Shouldnt you be up there." He said through slight sniffles. "I'd rather stand with you." Cal looked at you for a second before breaking down and you pulled him into a tight hug. This wasnt right. Grace was his mother. He shouldve been up front with Olive and Ben.

~2 months after~

You had taken Cal with you to get groceries for the house. "Ok, so I got everything on the list. Do you want a snack or something before we go?" You asked looking at him. Cal started to reply but was interrupted by an old woman. "Oh look at that. Reminds me of us, honey." She said to her husband. "Such a lovely couple. I remember our first shopping trip together." Both of your faces turned red with awkward looks planted on your faces. "I- we're not! I mean- uh... Th-thank you...." You stumbled over your words trying not to be mean or rude but also entirely embarrassed. You hadnt thought about how it looked to others with Cal being the same age as you now. Come to think of it you hadnt much thought about how he was the same age as you now, at all.

~later that day~

The car ride home was super awkward. For you at least. Cal didnt say much on it but he had just played along and wrapped an arm around You smiling thanking the old woman like it was nothing. ((I just imagine him being able to just switch into this act like nothing)) now at home, You had been stocking the fridge and pantry alone. "Hey. How'd the shopping trip go?" You jumped, hitting your head on the roof of the fridge, upon hearing Zeke walk in. "Woah. Didnt mean to startle you." He laughed a little. "I-it's ok! I mean- uh. Yeah its ok." You said earning a look from the man. "Hmm. Ok. Whats got you so flustered?" "Flustered? I'm not flustered. Are you flustered? Cause I'm not." Zeke gave a knowing look to you. "Right." Just then Cal walked into the kitchen. "Oh hey, honey!" He emphasized the pet name, making your face go red. "Cal!" You shouted trying to hide your face. "Stop, that was so awkward!" "Ok, now I'm really curious how the shopping trip went." Said Zeke. Cal laughed and told Zeke about the old couple.

~1 months later~

At this point everyone was in on the joke. Calling you and Cal a couple. After the first 2 weeks you had accepted it and went along, although now you werent able to look at Cal as a kid anymore. Which he didnt really act like one either.

~6 months after Grace~

Olive had come to terms and stopped blaming Cal by this point, which was great. Ben, however was slipping farther and farther. Today had been an especially bad day. Cal was upset and it was just you and him at the house, besides Ben who was upstairs spiraling, as usual. "Do you wanna go out or do something? Maybe get your mind off it?" You asked him. He sniffled and looked up to you. "Sure. Like where or what?" "Uh.. Well. Maybe... Um I think the fair is in town." "Yes!" He jumped up. "I'll go get ready!" You laughed and decided to do the same. Now you were in your room getting ready and struggling with what to wear. Why were you so focused on your outfit? You couldn't figure it out but once deciding on the cutest one you went to Cal's door. You were about to knock when Cal opened the door running right into you. "Y/n! I'm so sorry!" He shouted as he caught you, pulling you close to his chest. Up close like this you could smell his cologne. Odd. Why would he where cologne just to go to the fair. "It's ok, Cal." You smiled up at him. "You ready?" You asked and he nodded before reluctantly releasing his grip on you.

~ at the fair ~

You had been there for a few hours now, riding all the rides over and over again. "I'm so glad you talked me into the wrist bands!" You giggled as you got off the dizzy disc for the 3rd time followed by a very wobbly Cal. "I think I'm going to be sick.." He said half jokingly. You then saw one of your favorite rides had no line at the moment and quickly grabbed his hand, dragging him along to it. "This one next!" You shouted staring up at it. You were so excited you hadnt realized you still had Cal's hand, nor had you realized the prominent blush on his face. The ride director let you on and you finally let go to get on. Then you went up and started spinning the cage. Cal and you screaming like little girls because lets be real, fair rides are scary. Once off you started laughing uncontrollably. "What's so funny?" Cal asked smiling wide. "You- you should have-" you were struggling through laughs. " you shouldve heard your screams!" You finally got out. Cal's face dropped into a mopy face playfully but he couldnt hide the smile still playing at his lips. "Yeah, well... It was scary." He fake grumbled. "Awe, come on, honey." You emphasized the pet name the way he had before. "It wasnt that bad." You smiled at his blush laughing a little. "Not as fun on the other side, huh, honey?" "Actually." Cal quickly grabbed your hand pulling you up to him into a close embrace. "I don't mind." He smirked at your squeal and stared at you. Your faces only inches apart, you started blushing like mad. "C-Cal.." You whispered, suddenly forgetting the world around you and not remembering to call him Gabriel. "Y/n.." He whispered back as he stared into your eyes and inched closer. Right when he was an inch away someone ran into you, knocking you out of Cal's arms. "S-sorry." They mumbled as you stood up with Cal's help. You checked your phone to make sure it didnt break when you landed. Seeing the time you mumble "shit." "What?" He asked you. "It's getting late, we should probably head back.." "Oh.. Ok.. Um.. Maybe one more ride?" He asked nervously. "Yeah. One more shouldnt hurt." You smiled. His face lit up as he smiled. "Ferris wheel?" He said. "Oh, come on. You know I'm terrified of that thing!" "That?! You're terrified of that?! But not the Zipper? What the hell y/n?" He exaggerated, laughing. You nodded, "The zipper is scary on purpose and has a whole ass cage around it. The ferris wheel is scary on accident and does not have a cage around it." You said matter of factly. "Oh come on..." He thought for a second. "I'll protect you." He grabbed your hand gently, stirring all those feeling up again, making you blush. "O-ok.." Cal held your hand the entire time and made you laugh and smile all the while. "This isnt so bad. Kinda pretty actually." You stated once stopped at the top. Unbeknownst to you Cal was absolutely staring right at you, not daring to look out at the scenery or anything. "Beautiful." He whispered. You smiled. "Yeah, it is beautiful." Then the ride started going down one by one and your face twisted into one of terror. Quickly Cal noticed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest gently. It was like immediate comfort. Once off you both started walking to the car. Cal smoothly grabbed your hand in a way that didnt even make you blink. He opened your door and helped you up into your jeep. "Thanks, but you didnt have to help me." "I know." He smiled sweetly at you.

On the way home you pulled over about 5 minutes from the house. "What's wrong? Why'd you pull over?" Cal asked, worriedly. You sighed and yawned. "You know I just don't feel like driving." You smiled at him. His eyes widened and he smiled big. "Wait. Are you serious?" You just nodded smiling and then unbuckled getting out of the car and switching sides with him. To say the rest of the ride home was long and bumpy would be an understatement. But it made Cal really happy, even if he did almost drive into the ditch twice.

~That night~

Everyone had gone to sleep. Well almost everyone. You could still hear Cal moving around his room right now. Bored out of your mind you went and made 2 hot chocolates and popcorn then went up to Cal's room. You knocked quietly as to not wake anyone else up. Cal opened the door and looked at you with both shock and curiosity. "What's this?" He asked with one eyebrow raised. "Hot chocolate and a movie?" You smiled at him. "Hmm. Ok, honey." He moved to the side while also helping you with the snacks. You blushed at the nickname, thinking of earlier when he almost kissed you. You sat on his bed getting comfy. "Cal, why do you have it so cold in here?" "What do you mean? Its the same in here as every other room." "Yeah, well, you also have a fan on and the ceiling fan. Like what the hell?" He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. "I get hot when i sleep." He sat down next to you, grabbing the remote. "What do you want to watch?" He asked grabbing a piece of popcorn and poping it in his mouth.

~end of movie~

Cal looked over at you and saw you were asleep on his shoulder. He smiled blushing lightly. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, moving a strand of hair from your face. "Mmm.." You stirred from sleep and looked up at him. Yawning you asked "Did you say something?" "Yeah..." He whispered again. "Why are we whispering?" You whispered back, waking a little more from your cat nap. "Cal?" You asked, realizing his hand was on your face and his big beautiful eyes were staring into yours. "Can I kiss you?" He asked in hush tone as if his voice would scare you. All you could do was nod a yes once, staring back into his eyes. He leaned in slowly and kissed you with the most care and passion you could ever imagine, so much so that it took your breath away even though it was relatively a short kiss. When he pulled away he rested his forehead on yours, his eyes still closed. "Can I do that again?"

#fanfic #fanfiction #cal stone x reader #Manifest #oneshot #Manifest fanfic #Cal stone #manifest netflix #ty doran #fluff #Older Cal stone #X reader

[literaila]

expectations

spencer reid x reader 

summary: in a desperate measure to help you, spencer answers the phone. 

abc’s masterlist. 

last part. 

warnings: angst, fluff, i go back and forth a lot, mentions of nightmares

*

when spencer wakes up, it's to the sound of his phone. 

his hand searches blindly in the dark, mind racing to figure out how many hours of sleep he got, to answer it. 

he's expecting the classic wake-up call. 

he's expecting to drive to work without even contemplating how early it is. 

he's perfectly routined to making himself coffee when he gets there. 

and he's not expecting to say "hello?" and only hear static back. 

he opens and closes his eyes, waiting a couple of seconds, then says it again. 

silence echoes back. 

he takes the phone from his ear, checking the name on his screen. 

unknown. 

but before he can think about that--or take the time to look at the number, to recall all of the digits he's dialed in the last couple of years, of when and why--he hears someone moving. 

and then a quiet, slightly ruffled "spencer?" from the other end. 

and, god. if he doesn't know that voice. 

"y/n?" he whispers, brows furrowing. 

he hadn't realized that you'd even saved his number. 

he hadn't realized that this was allowed. that calling and whispering and talking in the dark was on the list of things that he could do. 

if he had known. well, spencer doesn't consider it. 

he'd assumed that you'd thrown him out the door. 

"i'm sorry for calling so late," you say to him--he can hear the effort in your voice. "i just..." 

he listens for you to breathe. to tell him more. to make an obscene joke or tell him that you just dialed the wrong number. 

but there's only silence. 

only the unspoken words, only the things spencer can hear but you won't say. 

he takes a deep breath in; wills himself to pay attention now, to not get distracted. 

"is something wrong?" he asks. 

there's an exhale of air. a pause. 

and when you laugh, your breath right against his ear, spencer can hear the irony. the humiliation. "i shouldn't even be calling you. this definitely breaks all professional boundaries." 

you say the words, ashamed and guilty, trying to joke but failing. 

spencer turns his light on, sits up, and ignores how cold he is. 

he says your name again, soft and stern, waiting for you to explain. 

he wants answers. he wants to feel you close. he wants to go back to years ago and tell himself to use his brain just once. 

he wants too many things. 

and nothing. he kind of wants to hang up. 

"are you-" you stop, swallow. "are you at home?" 

"yeah. we just got back last night." 

"oh," you say, repeating it until it no longer sounds like a word to spencer's ears. "i'm sorry. you should be sleeping." 

"so should you," spencer says. 

"yeah," you say, attempting a laugh. "i didn't mean to wake you up. or, i guess i did, but i shouldn't have-" you breathe in. "i shouldn't have. and- i'm sorry, i'll just go to bed. you should sleep." 

"what happened?" 

spencer holds the phone close to his ear. he listens and waits and can barely breathe. 

he molds your picture in his brain. tells it to mean absolutely nothing. 

"nothing," you sigh. "nothing. usually, i would call ben but he's out of town. i have nightmares and then i can't sleep and i always hear these things..." 

spencer rubs a hand over his face. "you're hearing things?" 

"yeah. and--i know there's nothing there. i know that but i'm too afraid to get up and check myself and usually ben will talk me down but-" you cut yourself off. "i'm so sorry. i shouldn't be bothering you." 

spencer frowns. "don't apologize," he whispers. "you're not bothering me." 

you laugh and say nothing. 

spencer can hear it. 

liar liar. 

he swallows. "are you okay?" 

"yeah. yeah, i'm fine." 

spencer waits, counting down the moments, trying not to listen to how fast you're breathing. 

"you should go back to sleep. i'm just going to read or something and it'll be fine-" 

spencer cuts you off. "do you want me to come over?" 

there's a pause. 

a moment for spencer to rethink every decision he's ever made. 

"you don't have to," you say, quickly, like the words are hard to get out. 

"are you going to be able to sleep?" he asks you, already knowing the answer. 

he knows this if nothing else. 

he knows you, in the dark. in the middle of the night when everything feels wrong. when you go out on walks just to get out of your own mind. 

he knows this. 

"i don't know." 

spencer smiles, runs a hand through his hair. "send me the address." 

he listens to you breathe for a moment. 

"spencer-" you stop, pause. "are you sure?" 

he stands up, chest burning. 

"i'm sure." 

*

you open the door with slightly tinted eyes, looking past him. 

when you find nothing behind him, besides the unmistakable worry following him, you open the door a bit wider. 

"hey," you say, letting him in. "thanks for coming." 

spencer's eyes quickly observe you, taking in every slight change, any messages that you might be sending him unconsciously. 

when he gets to your face he forgets how to think. 

"of course," he says, whispers, tries to breathe out. "of course." 

he doesn't really know what he's doing here. 

he clears his throat, looks past you. "do you want me to look around? so you're sure that there's nothing there?" 

"you don't have to..." 

but spencer sees the apprehension on your face. the fear and shame mixed into something he only vaguely recognizes. 

he slips off his shoes and lets you guide him in. 

"i like your apartment," he says, softly, as you watch him peek around the corner. open the closet door. 

you nod but don't say anything, scratching at your jaw. your eyes don't follow his. 

you observe him as he checks your living room, then your kitchen. you watch him with blurry eyes and faint smiles. 

he doesn't hear you breathe once. he doesn't breathe once. 

he points towards a door. "is this your bedroom?" 

you nod, shifting your weight. 

"can i look?" he asks, hand going to the doorknob. 

you sigh, nod with something that seems like apprehension. 

it's confusing to spencer. though, so is your face. your eyes, your smile. 

everything about you confounds him. 

he opens the door to the light coming in through the window, curtains drawn back, messy covers, and a million different pictures on the wall. 

he opens the door to your secrets, to the little things you keep cradled in your hands, only allowing them the room to breathe. 

he opens the door, finding nothing but pure, uninhibited peace. 

he takes a breath in. and waits for you to follow. 

and then he walks around, checks any crevices, any corners. he looks behind the door and plays with the locks. 

he doesn't knock. he doesn't need to. 

you watch him with weary eyes, a dreading smile.

when he turns around, seemingly finding nothing, you laugh a bit mockingly.

"i feel like a child," you say, glancing towards him and then looking away. 

embarrassed. 

"i'm glad you called," spencer leans toward you, watches you inhale and exhale. "better safe than sorry." 

but you sigh and bury your face in your hands. "i'm sorry, spencer. this is stupid." 

his brow furrows. "it's not stupid."

you scoff. "aren't you supposed to grow out of being afraid of monsters under the bed?" 

spencer watches you, not responding. 

"i'm growing into it," you say, taking your hands away from your face. "it's stupid." 

spencer looks away, thinks a moment, brows furrowing, then looks at you again. he tilts his head. "i'm afraid of the dark." 

a moment passes. and then: "really?" 

he nods, face void of anything. 

your eyes peer at him, slightly suspicious. "i feel like you're just saying that to make me feel better." 

spencer considers it, a small smile forming on his face. "i'm telling you to make you feel better," he says. "but it's true." 

you stare at him, crossed arms. 

spencer nods, mock-serious. "in fact," he whispers, leaning passed you, towards the wall. 

he flicks the light switch, illuminating both of your faces. 

"there. that's better." he smiles at you. 

he can watch the subtle tilt of your chin. can see your chapped lips and foggy eyes. 

so much better. 

you shake your head and sigh. 

but spencer can see it--that little spark in your eyes. the gentle quirk of your lip. 

it fills him with something unrecognizable. 

it makes him want to keep talking. 

"thank you," you say. "you didn't have to come over." 

spencer smiles, hands going to his pockets. "anytime." 

you stare at him a moment, a brief furrow of your brows. and then you shake your head. 

like you're shaking yourself out of it. 

the slight frown is replaced with a smile. you sigh, "do you want some tea? i have chamomille. it's supposed to help you sleep." 

"sure," spencer whispers. "i'd like that."

*

your voice is different in the middle of the night. smooth, rough. 

you write music on the wall with your words. 

laugh at whatever spencer's saying. 

he's not quite sure. 

"i don't know," you tell him, words slurring together. "i can't remember." 

he can't seem to think about what you're saying. 

he's distracted by your sullen eyes. but the way they flicker towards him, then away. by the way you're biting your lip, trying to think of something else to say. 

he's fallen in deep, dug himself so far down that he's not sure he'll ever see the sun again. 

he wouldn't mind. as long as you're there. 

he thinks that your smile, that your golden-brisk touch, that your eyes and your words and curious glances would be enough to warm his skin. 

he thinks that he needs to go home now before he says something stupid. 

but spencer ignores that thought. 

he's tethered in. he's tied himself down. 

and you haven't seemed to notice. haven't seemed to mind that it's four in the morning and spencer's still in your house. 

still invading the gentle space between you. still daring to lean in closer. 

a voice whispers to turn back. someone says you're a fool in his ear. 

but he can't seem to hear beyond your voice. 

beyond something that you're laughing at now. 

"how'd you know that?" spencer asks, catching on to what you're saying. 

you laugh. "you think i haven't googled you, dr. reid?" 

his brow furrows. 

"you're very popular. i even found a phone number." 

spencer sighs, shaking his head. "morgan." 

you're smiling at him, eyes fluttering open, then shut. "you've got fans." 

he just shakes his head. looks around your walls, searching for something to say. 

he finds nothing. 

only empty space. only silence that he'd only felt a couple of times in his life. 

all when he was with you. all when he was younger, less idiotic. 

he looks back just in time to see your eyes widen. "wow," you say, looking at the clock behind his head. "it's late." 

spencer doesn't look with you. his eyes are stuck in place. 

really, he's sure. it's just because he's tired. 

"did you like the tea?" you ask him, voice sullen and quiet. 

spencer nods. 

"i didn't mean to keep you so late. you have work tomorrow, don't you?" 

spencer smiles. "today." 

you wince. "i'm sorry." 

"it's okay," he says, taking his cue and standing up. "i'm used to it." 

"lots of late nights?" 

"i just like coffee." 

you roll your eyes, gesturing towards him. "you should get home." 

spencer nods, but he can't seem to open his mouth. to look away. 

he can't seem to breathe. to trick his heart into starting again. 

he can't seem to leave you the hell alone. 

he's still nodding. 

you laugh. "are you okay to drive home?" 

"it's only 11 minutes away." 

"that's not what i asked." 

but you begin walking towards the door anyway, looking back at him with a smile. 

he follows willingly. 

where else should he go? 

he could turn around, walk into your bedroom and feign exhaustion. he could plead to stay there, tell you that he just wants one night. 

one night to go back to when he was still a kid. to when he hadn't messed everything up. 

but he doesn't say anything. he lets you walk him to the door. 

"well," you say with a tight smile. "thank you for coming. i'm sorry i ruined your night." 

spencer shakes his head. "don't apologize." 

you seem to hesitate for a moment, trying to meet his eyes. "i mean it," you whisper. "i appreciate it. you didn't have to come, or stay with me." 

spencer doesn't tell you that, yes he did. he doesn't think he needs to. 

he's sure that you know. that you understand him, this, even now. 

he puts on his shoes and reaches for the doorknob. 

but he can't seem to turn it. 

he can't seem to walk away from you, no matter how many miles stand between the two of you. 

"you can always call me," he says before he can think about it. "if you need something." 

it's not unlike what he's said before. but it feels unfamiliar in his mouth, a foreign language he hasn't learned how to speak. 

you nod, blinking with furrowed brows. "okay," you say, instead of yelling at him. "okay," you repeat. 

you smile at him, and a hand pushes you closer. 

something has changed--he can feel it--something is there. 

an invisible force. 

the same thing that kept the two of you together when you were just strangers. when you were still pouring him coffee, still walking him home. 

it's the same thing that made spencer leave. 

the same thing that scared him away, the same phone call, the same letter. 

it's all the same but spencer feels so different. 

he feels his heart race and wonders how it ever managed to stop. 

how he ever managed to leave you, when he's still managed to feel this way. 

why you're looking at him when he's managed to mess all of this up. 

and he wants to apologize. he wants to tell you so many things, the truth, a lie, a million different possibilities, and all the answers that you deserve. 

but spencer's been thrown over by a tidal wave. 

his mouth has gone completely dry. 

he watches you and can't seem to comprehend anything. anything but your face, somehow even more beautiful than it was eight years ago. 

he doesn't have any way, any possible words, to explain any of it. 

and yet, you don't seem to mind. 

you continue to look at him, continue to smile, continue to hold your head up high, and stare at him like he's not the monster under the bed. 

you're not afraid of him, but he is terrified of you. 

and maybe that's why he doesn't move away. 

maybe that's why he only stares, only watches, only stands in front of you as you allow yourself to be pushed forward. 

maybe that's why he doesn't hesitate when you're only an inch away from him. when he's standing in the doorway again, when he's back to 18 and he still doesn't understand anything that he's doing. 

maybe that's why he kisses you. 

just to hear you gasp again. just to taste your secrets, to cradle your warmth in his hands and swear that he'll be gentle this time. 

he won't break anything. 

maybe that's why he brings his hands up to your face, drawing circles on your skin.

he can't quite breathe and he doesn't mind. 

he doesn't think about anything. 

he's lost, swimming in an unrecognizable ocean, fallen victim to a million different captures, and most of all 

your lips. 

he listens as you pull back, and breathe in as if you've never taken in air before. 

he watches as your eyes flutter open, so close to his. 

he feels as you still in his hands. 

as your hands freeze and your mouth tries to stutter something spencer doesn't understand. 

he watches as you move back, as horror takes your place, gentle eyes replaced by something more deadly.

spencer could listen to your voice forever, but as you gasp out, he wishes to never hear anything again. that he could go deaf to the world, to your blind rage. 

he wishes he had never kissed you. 

"you need to go," you tell him, voice hard.

and then, with a gentle movement, swift and barely comprehendible, 

you open the door and push him out. 

*

next part. 

my masterlist here. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!readr #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid au #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid sad #Spencer Reid series #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reid #criminal minds request

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

Are Ben & Ismelda meant to be boyfriend & girlfriend now or something? I mean someone said they saw a Gryffindor & Slytherin kissing at the dance, but I have no idea if that was referring to those two, it very well might not have been. But Ben canonly has a crush on Ismelda either way even if they aren’t officially together. I genuinely don’t know how to feel rn. 😕

Gail's going to be so mad.

No but for real, I can see Luca's jaw just hitting the floor, before they laugh it off and decide it's cute. But Gail is furious. Ben is her foster brother and she has never, ever liked Ismelda. It'll take time and a lot of it for her to accept this.

I don't recall seeing them kiss either, at least not when I played it. I still need to watch Akemi's video though, maybe I'll notice something there. When you say "someone" saw it, are you referring to a player or an NPC? If you mean an NPC, in like flavor text or something, I didn't catch that either - but if that dialogue exists, I think that's meant to be a clear indication that yes, a kiss happened, even if it's not direct confirmation. If you mean a player, then you may want to ask them to elaborate. Since never mind their outfits, it was very clearly Ben and Ismelda dancing together, not just a "Gryffindor and Slytherin" y'know?

Hah, this almost reminds me of Hermione's kiss with Krum which may or may not have happened. (But totally did.)

Either way, you're right. Ben and Ismelda are getting ship-teased a lot and honestly...like, wow. It's so surreal to me. Two years ago, I would have expected a scene like this to eventually appear in the game for an entirely different pairing. Remember when they used to drop hints like crazy that Jae and Chiara were close? If this had been the two of them, prior to their addition to the roster of love interests...I feel like people wouldn't be nearly as shocked. As it is, Ben and Ismelda are certainly an odd couple, but I dunno, I kind of dig it?

Ismelda is someone who likely doesn't think of herself as being attractive. So for someone to express interest in her, which I don't believe has ever happened before, how can she not jump on that chance? Ben is also a good guy, despite his flaws, and I think she could definitely start to see herself fancying and/or dating him. As for Ben crushing on her? It's certainly a surprise, but I dunno. We've never really had any indications or hints about Ben's type before. Ismelda could definitely be someone he falls for. There's a neat bit of irony in it, considering how the two of them each embody the stereotypes of their Houses (before deconstructing them) and said Houses have always been rivals.

The only real issue here is once again, the Hogwarts Mystery timeline, and how once again, the writers have made it more confusing. They write quests out of chronological order, but this doesn't stop them from writing the character arcs in a chronological order, if that makes sense. Ismelda has come a long way since her introduction, for instance, and that seems to be true in all the new quests no matter when they're placed. But in particular, I have questions about Ben, and what this crush means for him, where he currently is in his character arc. Is this "New" Ben? It would make more sense, but...no, apparently, this is a Year 5 quest. Hold on, if this is Year 5, doesn't Ismelda still have a crush on Barnaby? Even if you do this quest post-Crushed, it still doesn't make a lot of sense, because she explicitly stated that she now wants someone less innocent. Which does suit "New" Ben, but it sure doesn't suit "Old" Ben.

#Ben Copper x Ismelda Murk #Ben Copper #Ismelda Murk #Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery

[tarryloesinne]

OMNITRANYL - 03. Inside the bubble

Kevin was driving at high speed.

"So, anything new?"

"Nothing..." replied Gwen. The young woman on her knees on the back seat remained in magical concentration. Beams of mantra flowed from her hands and circled Ben's unconscious body, searching for what had affected her cousin. "Did you talk to Grandpa Max?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And he said he has no idea what happened."

Without slowing down, Kevin makes a sharp left turn, causing Gwen to hit her head on the glass and lose concentration.

"Ouch, Kevin!"

"Sorry..."

"We can't help Ben if we die! Will you please drive properly?"

"You're the one who told me to run."

The car makes another turn, this time to the right, and it was Ben's turn to hit his head on the window.

"Ouch!"

"Ben, you're awake!" said the girl.

"Who said you have to be an expert in magic to wake someone up, huh?" Kevin smiled with irony.

Gwen offered a disapproving look in the rearview mirror and slapped the young driver on the head.

"Easy there, you nervous girl." said Kevin.

"What are you guys arguing about?" Ben still looked a little dizzy.

"Sorry, Ben," she said. "How are you feeling?

"My head hurts, but I think it's from hitting the glass." His hand stroked the sore spot on his head. "What happened?

"You blacked out, Tennyson," said Kevin.

"What do you mean I blacked out?" He began to get restless on the bench. "Did you manage to catch Albedo?"

"No..." replied Gwen.

"But why? Guys, we have to go after him!"

"And we will, calm down!" Gwen put her hand on her cousin's shoulder, "But you need help, so let's take you to Grandpa Max first."

"What? No guys, I'm cool, look!" Ben touched his own body showing that there was no injury "See! Let's go back, our objective is Albedo!"

"Our objective is also to take care of each other, Ben!"

"Then I'll go alone."

Ben touches the Omnitrix disk, which activates with the Jet-Ray hologram already evident. However, as he tries to press the core of the watch, his hand hits a pink, extremely resistant bubble that coated the watch and his hand.

"What!?"

"Ben, give it up, we're taking you to Grandpa!" said the girl.

"Gwen, let go of my hand!"

"Hey there, kid!" said Kevin "I agree with you that we have to go after Albedo and beat the crap out of him, but seriously, you're messed up, so just stay cool and we'll take you to your grandpa's whether you like it or not!"

"What do you mean, messed up?"

Gwen and Kevin looked at each other in the rearview mirror. It was left to her to explain:

"Ben, when we were walking back to the car, we heard you scream. Right then, we ran back..."

"Screaming?"

"We saw you covered by the green glow of the watch, you were supposed to be transforming, but... You were howling in pain..."

Ben put his head down and tried to remember something.

"It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough for us to hear several of your voices at once, screaming and crying and begging for help from within the green light..."

"It was scary," said Kevin.

"When the green light was gone, you were standing up, your face was wet with tears, and then you collapsed."

"I-I..."

"You were out for about twenty minutes, Tennyson."

"What?"

"That's why we called Grandpa Max," said Gwen. "He said to drop you off with him and to go after Albedo. Maybe he did something with the watch and we don't know about it."

Ben was silent. He couldn't remember any of this. He felt tired, but it was 1:30 AM now, who wouldn't be tired? He thought. He looked at the landscape outside the car and saw his own reflection in the window. What happened there?

"Okay, I'll stay with Grandpa Max," he finally said.

"I'm glad you accepted," said Kevin, "because we have just arrived."

The car brakes sharply, just a few inches away from hitting the bumper of the trailer parked in front of Ben's house.

"Kevin!" say the cousins.

The trailer door opens and from inside emerges the figure of Max Tennyson with a cybernetic goggle resting on top of his head and advanced technology gloves on each hand.

"Hi, kids," said Grandpa Max with his characteristic smile.

"There you go, Mr. Tennyson, it's delivered." said Kevin, unlocking the car doors.

Gwen changed seats and moved to the front seat, while Ben went towards his grandfather.

"I almost forgot," said Gwen. She snapped her fingers, undoing the bubble around Ben's hand "Keep an eye on him, Grandpa!"

"Don't worry, Gwen," he waved goodbye. "Any news, let me know, and be careful!"

Kevin's car screeched as it left and continued down the street into the night. Ben got into the trailer right behind his grandfather.

"Grandpa, I..."

"Relax, Ben, Kevin already told me everything."

"And can you explain what happened?"

"No."

Ben stared sadly at the watch on his wrist.

"But I have a guess," concluded Max, who walked towards a panel full of buttons that appeared underneath the microwave oven.

"The Rust-Bucket never ceases to amaze me" Ben smiled.

Max pressed two buttons and the dining table sank to the floor making room for a circular pilaster with five metal spikes. The structure resembled a half-closed hand with its fingers pointing upwards.

"Come on, Ben, put your hand here in the middle."

"Grandpa... are you sure this is safe?"

"Yes, I'm sure. This will create a ghurtyl isolation field, preventing any of the Omnitrix's defense systems from hurting us."

"Like self-destruct?"

"Like that. Now, come on, put your hand in there."

As Ben leaned the watch over the pillar, a new blue bubble coated, not only his hand, but part of his forearm as well.

I've had enough of these bubbles, Ben thought.

Grandpa Max put on his glasses and pressed the activation buttons on the sides of his gloves. His appearance resembled that of a mad scientist. He reached inside the isolation area and cautiously investigated the surface of the Omnitrix.

"Ben, what happened to the watch? It has cracks in the surface of the disk."

"Albedo tried to rip the disc out of the Big Chill's chest. No, I mean, he tried to smash the disk actually..."

Ben strained his eyes to try to see inside the luminous bubble.

"Actually, Grandpa Max, the holes he made in the Omnitrix looked bigger before."

"Maybe the clock is trying to fix itself," Max removes his hands from inside the bubble and moves towards the panel. "Maybe if I scan it I can find out if there is any internal damage."

Max pressed a button on the panel and both watched from the roof of the trailer as a semicircular device descended and positioned itself over the ghurtyl field.

"I'm going to start scanning," Max said as he pressed a button on the confirmation screen.

A horizontal beam of light started a path from one side of the bubble to the other. As soon as the first wavelength of the scanner touched the surface of the Omnitrix, the clock changed color. It turned orange and a high-pitched sound was heard from inside the device like an alarm. A spherical electromagnetic pulse coated the clock and expanded inside the van to cover the entire residential neighborhood, immediately shutting down all electrical devices in the area.

Ben and his grandfather stood paralyzed in the darkness inside the Rust Bucket.

"Grandpa?"

"I'm here, Ben."

"What happened?"

"Probably some defense mechanism of the watch."

"But wasn't the ghurti-whatever field supposed to contain exactly that?"

"It did," Max opened one of the trailer windows. "The light only went out in the neighborhood, not in the country."

Ben's eyes widened.

"What do we do now?"

"You'd better get some rest, Ben. I'll try to get the power back on somehow."

One of the electric aliens would be of great help now, Ben thought.

However, the Omnitrix was running the typical red light that signaled "I'm recharging, so forget about being a hero for now."

"Are you sure you don't want help?"

"Don't worry, you can go and rest, I think that by sunrise everything will be sorted out," Max was pacing back and forth in the trailer, looking for equipment and tools. "I will contact Azmuth again as well."

"Have you spoken to him?"

"I tried, but I couldn't get him to answer me. Now go to sleep."

Ben left the trailer and the only light in the area was the crescent moon that reigned in the sky. Before opening the door to the house, he looked over his shoulder at his grandfather's trailer and thought about going back to help him, but realized that his hand on the lock was shaking.

Fainting is not the same thing as sleeping. I need to rest...

And he went inside.

#ben 10 ultimate alien #ben10 #ben 10 uaf #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 #writing #fiction #fanfic

[sophsun1]

To add my POV on @briankinneysimp post about Brian's insecurities in regards to Justin cheating on him. For me Brian has two personalities - he has the "Stud Of Liberty Avenue" one where everyone either wants him or wants to be him. The air of confidence he exudes, how he gives no fucks and does what he wants. This is what the group mostly sees him as and the rest of Pittsburgh. Insecure is not a word they would use in relation to him.

Then we the audience and sometimes the group ie Debbie/Michael/Lindsey get to see the other side of him. The softer side where his guards down and you can see he is deeply insecure in some areas of his life. He has a constant fear that people will leave him and an inability to believe that they would stay with/for him. He shows this with Justin (like the gifset I made) many times. Also when he thinks Michael's leaving him behind with both Ben and David. This is a totally natural and common reaction to growing up in an abusive home environment especially when you're a child and this shapes you growing up.

So cut to Season 2. Now in the beginning Brian did say "We're not in a relationship/ I'm single etc". But we enter a new era in this season because they make their rules and they both carry on in their relationship with the best intentions to stick to them - most importantly Brian does. Brian hasn't said I love you but he tells Justin in his own way that he does care for him and isn't letting him stay with him out of guilt anymore. Then the cracks begin to show

Justin cheats with the high school kid at the party. Brian realises when he kisses him and Justin just gets up and walks out the room. We the audience can see Brian's hurt. We get him at the gym working out intensely with the irony of Ted/Emmett teasing him that he's only doing it because he's scared Justin will leave him for someone younger and cuter. Without knowing how close to home they've hit. Neither of them discuss it further but we do see them at Babylon not really wanting to go home with anyone else but each other so they do.

Next comes the birthday party/cancelled Vermont trip with Ethan eventually entering the picture.

Justin starts an affair. I mean that's what it is. He's continually breaking the rules and lying to Brian.

We see that Brian knows that Justin's seeing other people when he tells Michael at the club. At this point even after he knows about the kid at the party and Justin lying to him about where he goes he's not fully mad at him. This might be unpopular but I have no problem with Michael telling Brian about Justin cheating. Brian's his best friend he was just looking out for him and I'm sure if the tables were reversed and Brian was cheating on Justin people would have a lot to say. Justin goes home and we get the scene you show in the gifs. Up until this point which I find very interesting Brian has never voiced a hurt reaction to Justin's cheating until he simply says "Go take a shower, you stink." Which is him lashing out because he's in pain, after talking to Michael he realises that Justin is having a full relationship behind his back.

For me he was hurt by Justin cheating on him. He was the first person he let his guard down for, he let him in and fell in love with him and then Justin did in Brian's mind what all people who are in love do - hurt each other. He asks Justin did he and Ethan have fun laughing behind his back about how they were sneaking around. It's like he could forgive him kissing someone and sneaking off for one night stands but to be in a relationship something he thought they were in that hurt along with the lies. Brian broke so many of his own rules when he fell for Justin, he never broke their vows and yet that still wasn't enough for the person who said they loved him. Michael says later on parelled in the cancer plot being young and beautiful and desirable is what Brian thinks is all he's worth which is really sad. His reputation for being the best there ever was that counted for nothing in the end - Justin still left.

That moment we get of Justin coming home and the shot of Brian waiting up not knowing whether he would return. And then he's pulling back the covers and holding Justin when he gets in, stroking his arm and looking at him with zero dialogue is one of my favourite moments. It shows his insecurities in full flow - the fear that Justin is going to leave him and he's terrified. Sadly turns out to be true and he does.

#britin #soph writes meta #brians insecurities #this makes no sense #its just word vomit #as usal #prob not coherent #but i wrote it #so here you go #feel free to ignore #brian kinney #queer as folk

[hamliet]

What Does It Mean to Save?

I keep seeing it said that Deku, Ochaco, and Shouto will “save” Shigaraki, Himiko, and Dabi, but that there will be no redemption and/or no survival for them. I’m truly not trying to vague these posts and everyone is entitled to their opinion, but literary criticism is fundamentally responsive so I’m writing this anyways.

I personally think that’s not BNHA’s definition of saving nor of redemption. So here, have a deep dive into literary tropes related to redemption, genre, and character arcs as they pertain to BNHA and the question of: what does it mean to save Shigaraki, Touya, and Himiko?

Before we begin, let me say that while we might be personally uncomfortable with redemption (there’s a redemption arc in BNHA I am personally quite uncomfortable with), that doesn’t inherently mean the narrative won’t go there. The key principle I’m operating on here is BNHA’s message that heroes save people. It’s held up as the highest ideal. 

So let’s talk redemption in BNHA-verse. With this guy, whose redemption arc I dislike in principle but accept as part of the story so don’t come for me stans and/or antis. I’m analyzing because it shows us what redemption means in BNHA-verse, whether or not that is satisfying to you personally as it fits/does not fit with your own morality/philosophy.

If Endeavor can be redeemed and live, and he’s Bakugou’s negative foil, I highly doubt Shigaraki and Deku as well as Touya and Shouto and Ochaco and Himiko will be any different. Why? Because Enji is an adult character. The others--well, Himiko’s age we don’t know, but we do know that Shigaraki and Dabi are technically adults. But does the story consider them adults?

(It doesn’t.)

Child-coded characters are generally more likely to survive a redemption, which I’ll explain more later. First I have to define what I mean by child-coding, because I DO NOT mean this in the way it’s often (mis)used in fandom wank. Child-coding is a real thing, but it is not done to infantilize and it has nothing to do with shipping.

Child coding frames the character as a child for a few narrative purposes to convey a story’s theme or purpose. For example, if it’s a coming of age story coding a character as a child even if they legally are not emphasizes their journey to an understanding of self-actualization, or a true understanding of self with self-awareness and an understanding of self-value. An example of an adult coded as a child is The Kite Runner, wherein Amir is a legal adult for half the story, even married for fifteen years so we’re talking 30s-40s, but he does not truly become an adult until he returns to his homeland and takes responsibility for a childhood sin. In Attack on Titan, the main characters are now nineteen, but are still struggling to take responsibility as adults and have only started doing so now that their mentors/parental figures have started dying.

Along those lines, in any kind of story, you can code a character as a child of someone, regardless of biological relationship, to convey the type of relationship they have (usually a mentor one). For an example of this, see Bungo Stray Dogs’ Dazai and Akutagawa. Despite their two year age difference, Dazai recruited him to the mafia, abandoned him, and Akutagawa desperately seeks his approval. Usually in these stories a character will “overcome” their parental figure. This can be done through overcoming their need for the parental figure’s approval in stories where the parental figure is kindly (such as in Harry Potter, when in the final book Harry, Ron, and Hermione leave the Weasleys to find the Horcruxes despite Mrs. Weasley’s please) or through like, killing/stopping/leaving the parental figure when they are abusive (see fairy tales like Rapunzel and Cinderella). The parental link to self-actualization is because it is childlike (and a part of actual psychology that is reflected in literature) to see yourself as a part of your parent; self-actualized person would see yourself as a distinct person from your parent, but also acknowledge the ways in which they’ve shaped you.

So, how do you code a character as a child? BNHA isn’t subtle about it, because Horikoshi seldom is subtle about anything. The villain trio are all coded as children.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Who cannot achieve self-actualization so long as AFO has access to his body, as he’s literally trying to possess him. He’s trying, but it’s not gonna work because Shigaraki can’t keep AFO and become an adult at the same time. It’s a choice the narrative is setting up: your dream of destroying, or your freedom? (To get the latter, he’ll probably have to destroy AFO).

Todoroki Touya, who is repeatedly emphasized as a small child when compared to his siblings, and yes, I know he’s now tall. Specifically he’s spotlighted as the child of Endeavor:

And he’s the least self-actualized one in a lot of ways, contradicting himself constantly. I’m not Endeavor, DUH! But these are Endeavor’s flames! He’s gonna have to choose one or the other, because the tragic irony is that the more he takes out his rage on those around him, the more like Endeavor he becomes.

And Toga Himiko (who might well literally be a legal child), who is actually the most self-actualized one thus far, because she rejects Curious’s child insistence (Curious holds her in a Pieta pose, based on Michelangelo’s statue wherein Mary holds a deceased Christ):

She’s still got, like, a way to go though:

Because Himiko also wants to be like the people she loves to the point where she loses her own identity in them, which is er, not self-actualization. So she’ll have to choose whether or not she really wants to be like the people she loves or whether she wants to live her own way, which she herself tells us how that would end (death):

Deku said it himself: it’s good to focus on what someone is doing now. And look, I have issues with this statement and how it’s framed. I’ve talked about it at length and it was doomed to fail because Shouto himself told us long ago that it was annoying to hear a righteous speech by a stranger when you hadn’t gone through the same, plus Endeavor kinda failed by choosing being a hero over a dad here. But, the principle is that if the past doesn’t preclude Endeavor from seeking a better self, why would it preclude three characters coded as children, one of whom is literally somewhat the product of Endeavor’s sins? BNHA doesn’t think the past keeps someone from a better future. 

So what about Dabi’s counterpoint, which is indeed valid? Well, redemption doesn’t mean the past forgets, either. It’s complicated and nuanced, and we can debate how well Horikoshi strikes this nuance (it’s got its flaws), and admittedly I don’t know how this will go down in the future. But it is asking Endeavor: how do you redeem yourself to the people you’ve hurt? And we have Endeavor asking this question to Touya’s shrine. I mean, the foreshadowing is obvious. Endeavor has to redeem himself by trying to save Touya. However, it will still probably come down to Shouto to save Touya.

For our three villains, it’s a little harder to predict... well, sort of. For Shigaraki it’s extremely obvious: he has to help take down AFO. Dabi probably has to do something to help his family (siblings probably), but it’s vague. Toga needs help and not condemnation, but presumably she’ll help Ochaco with something.

So, is this redemption? I’d define it as redemption in the eyes of the narrative. To address what makes a redemption is another essay unto itself, but if we bring in the oft-compared Star Wars example: did Darth Vader get a redemption? Did Ben Solo? Everyone says yes to both. However, only Luke witnesses Vader’s redemption, and only Rey Ben Solo’s. So the rest of the galaxy? Doesn’t think so. When I say they’ll be redeemed, I’m defining it as their role in the eyes of the narrative, not whether or not society will accept them or even whether their victims will forgive them (of note, in canonical novels, Leia never forgave Darth Vader despite learning he was her father and obviously knowing Luke’s account of his redemption was true).

So, redemption in a narrative doesn’t mean all of society has to forgive and accept them. Dabi has still like, murdered 30 people--many of whom were thugs, but he himself acknowledges they didn’t deserve to die. Additionally, he himself also acknowledges that the families left behind--their feelings matter:

But why does that mean they have to die? Why even does it mean they have to languish in prison forever? (If there’s even a safe prison at the end of BNHA which I kinda have doubts about.) Heroes have also killed: see Hawks as Exhibit A. In fact, some people want revenge on the heroes precisely because they arrested or killed their loved ones (jail isn’t held up as a rehabilitative place in BNHA’s world. In most countries it isn’t in real life, either, but again that’s for another essay). So why don’t the League’s feelings on Twice’s death matter just as much as the feelings of unnamed and unseen (and thereby less important narratively) characters?

Additionally, regarding death... the villains routinely get called on their death wishes. Himiko’s determination to decide how/when she dies is called out because this is right  before Twice overcomes his trauma to save her, and the next arc they appear in is when Twice dies trying to save her again. Dabi’s suicide wish keeps him from getting close to others, and it keeps getting thwarted. Shigaraki’s obsession with destruction and death is clearly not a good thing, and his rejection of his family’s desire for them to join him in death this past arc is growth.

In other words: what Dabi said and what Snatch said about families and how they feel matter for the villains too. The villains are their own weird found family (Dabi as the deadbeat prodigal brother of both his families). Their deaths--Magne’s and Twice’s thus far, and I’m not ruling out further deaths in the future--affect the others. People’s feelings on losing loved ones matter. The villains are people, as Himiko said herself this arc:

Their feelings about each other matter:

How would Touya dying affect the Todorokis? At least they saved him spiritually, I guess, but that’s absolutely lame narratively, and if you have Enji eventually do a sacrifice to save Dabi (pretty likely, even if I personally think Enji will survive said sacrifice) then what’s the point of Dabi dying? How would Himiko dying affect society? As a martyr like Curious wanted her to be, even a redeemed one? A tragic warning story? What even is the point of Ochaco saving her if that’s the case? If Shigaraki dies, well, who would mourn besides Deku? How would Shigaraki dying affect the surviving members of the league? He just couldn’t be saved physically? 

It’s not impossible some of this happens, but it doesn’t seem like great writing, especially with panels like, oh, these that show us BNHA’s perspective on death:

Sacrificing something is a type of death that occurs in stories; this should happen in a redemption arc, which is why I’ve been saying Enji needs to sacrifice his hero reputation to help save Touya and even then it’ll still be Shouto imo who does the saving. But physical death?

If you want further analysis of the latter two panels and how they relate to the ending, see here.

We already have another villain who will definitely die redemptively (Kurogiri--an adult coded character--because he’s already, like, dead), and Spinner and Mr. Compress aren’t coded as kids so I hold them with anxiety towards the end. But again, this isn’t me being ageist or saying this is the way things ought to be in fiction or real life: it’s me looking at writing tropes and saying that child-coded characters tend to survive their redemptions. See: Zuko. Why? Because the death of children or child-coded characters is a tragedy. When a child-coded character dies redemptively it doesn’t feel like a happy ending and if framed as such, it’s often criticized for bad writing (see: Ben Solo). Curious even called this out in her fight with Himiko. I would hope Horikoshi doesn’t end the story being like yeah Curious was right that’s the best use of Himiko’s/Dabi’s/Shigaraki’s arcs:

Additionally, as for the believability of a character getting a new chance after so much destruction and murder... well, it’s kinda a thing in shonen and even in seinen? For better or for worse, it’s a thing. We have Vegeta in Dragon Ball Z and Kaneki Ken in Tokyo Ghoul (Kaneki, by the way, is absolutely an inspiration for Shigaraki). We can debate how well-written these redemptions are (I personally have been quite critical of Kaneki’s despite wanting it to happen narratively), but it can be done. BNHA’s Japan especially isn’t as harsh a world as Tokyo Ghoul’s Japan, so it would make even more sense for something like Kaneki’s ending.

The reality is that the cycle of revenge via hurting people and then leaving hurting families and loved ones has to stop somewhere. Someone has to be the bigger person and step up and be like “naw.” That’s heroic. That’s brave. That’s sacrificial itself. Justice itself doesn’t really exist in its purest form without mercy.

There’s another genre-reason I don’t see death or jail as likely (I could see, like, maybe a mental health ward like Rei’s? But it’s too soon to speculate).

If saving is considered a good thing for the story, if it’s truly the highest ideal, then saving someone should be rewarded by the narrative. The characters who save should have a positive result to show us this a good thing.

This is why it doesn’t work for the heroes’ end journey to be accepting that some people cannot be saved. The notion of just accepting that you cannot do something, you cannot save everyone, you cannot, cannot, cannot, is called out as a flaw of society. Determination, on the other hand, is rewarded.

We see it with Deku as well as with Mirio.

So, what if they save them and the redeemed characters then go on to sacrifice themselves in their redemption and die (come to the same end)? If saving changes absolutely nothing for the saved person, if it’s too late for the saved from themselves to change and/or do anything that matters besides die, then the narrative theme of saving as important is left unemphasized at best and undermined at worst. Simple intrinsic knowledge that the kids “did the right thing” doesn’t cut it for a story with so much focus on physical saving when the kids are already doing the right thing; moral struggles about whether to choose to be good aren’t really Deku, Ochaco, or Shouto’s arcs. It works for Aizawa’s arc with Kurogiri, but not for the kiddos. If BNHA was more of a philosophical/spiritual text, that would indeed make sense, but it is not. Genre-wise, BNHA is a fantastical superhero optimistic story, not a gritty real-world set drama.

#bnha meta #mha meta #bnha 295 #mha 295 #deku #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #todoroki shouto #todoroki touya #todoroki enji #endeavor #todoroki family #toga himiko #all for one #afo #uraraka ochako #bakugou katsuki #aizawa shouta #bnha theory #mha theory #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #kurogiri

[teebeornotteebe]

"It's always been him"

I don't know y'all, this feels pretty significant. Two things:

Firstly, this declaration has impact. It sticks out and we all remember it and we are supposed to. I know Eleanor had a rebuttal that she delivered that seemed to soften the impact of Ben's inadvertent confession but I keep coming back to the words because, man they are heavy. And chosen deliberately. I mean, Ben could've said "you've got to be kidding me, why him?, or "she picked that guy"? He could have voiced his disbelief and disdain with different phrases and we could have still had Eleanor setting him straight. But, the writers wrote in "of course it's him, it's always been him" and they got BEN to say it. Not some annexed third party like Sasha or Trent, where we could easily just dismiss the significance of the choice of words.

Honestly, I don't know any triangles on tv where one end of the triangle openly voices out the inevitability of the other end 'winning' out, even if it was for irony's sake. Especially if the triangle is intended to go on. I'm curious to see how the show intends to play this particular declaration out because they dropped it in there for a reason.

And then secondly, what does Ben know about Devi and Paxton? For him to say 'it's ALWAYS been him', does that suggest that he's very much aware of how long Devi's been pining over Paxton? Something tells me he may have even mocked her over it at some point. Devi wasn't exactly shy about her Paxton haze after all. And if he did (c'mon, we know he did} boy has it come to bite him in the ass.

I wonder if we're going to get any insight into that next season. Because maybe Ben isn't so hung up over Paxton and Devi getting together as much as he's sub-consciously disturbed that Devi might be getting this 'prize' he probably always made fun of her about which would just so happen to leave him out in the cold. Because watching this scene again and again, his face and the WAY he says "of course it's him, it's always been him", in that almost whiny tone, and half pained, half frustrated look on his face? That smacks more of someone who's lost his favourite toy in a competition with someone else than someone who's experiencing sincere romantic dejection. Imo.

#daxton #paxton x devi #paxton hall yoshida #nhie discussion #ok maybe I'm reaching a little bit in that last one there #but something is off about the way Ben says it #and I think it's this #could just be an acting choice tho

[spade-riddles]

Tea 🍵 Time Responses

Tea Time! There's something in the bridge of Coney ISLAnd you all are missing!

🍵

Coney Island 🎤

_____________________

rainbowdaisy13 said:

Ok look into Isla Grant. She’s a Scottish folk singer and a lot of her song titles are like woah. “Daisy for Mama, You’re the Best Friend, Partners in Rhyme, Keeper of my Heart, Out of the Blue”

Could be a weird coincidence

lov4-kaylor said:

Maybe Something to do with the Gold Clock??? We just recently saw the Gold Clock in the Fearless De-Coding post from T. Maybe we still need to de-code something further with the Gold Clock. The word scramble was too easy for Ts style anyway!

a-swift-folklore said:

Why write it like IS-LAnd? My first thought was "Is LA"

sherryd23 said:

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey.. a universe away...

Anonymous said:

Isla is a Scottish feminine given name, and it just so happens to be pronounced EYE-la 🧐

Anonymous said:

ISLA / isn't there a famous treeline in LA? it's been in a lot of movies. bonus :drake's party was in LA

asteracaea said:

the only isla i know of is fischer...

cyberpunk89 said:

maybe it’s “name” in “when I walked up to the podium, I think that I forgot to say your NAME” and tea time anon made it Coney ISLAnd, so… ISLA the name? Still not sure, it’s too simple.

UPD: well. Taylor sings “ [your] name” on 3:19 and it’s 3+1+9=13. I hate these “13″ references even if it’s coincedence.

Anonymous said:

It's probably obvious, but the Trump family bought up huge swathes of Coney Island in the 60s and got entangled in legal actions over what to do with it. Locals were trying to revitalize the area but Trump Sr wanted to forget the fairground amenities and build more profitable apartments instead. I don't remember all the details but I think they took him on and he won. The setting adds a layer of sad irony to Taylor singing about losing the good times after the election.

Anonymous said:

re: tea time/ full disclosure i'm terrible with riddles but if you google gold clock nyc the most prominent that comes up is on fifth avenue (the 666 kushner bullding is also on fifth avenue). it's not much but i hope we can solve this

Anonymous said:

ISLA-Lisa baby name?

Anonymous said:

Okay the Coney Island bridge makes mention of a birthday and TT! anon hid the name Isla in their message! Could Isla be the name of the Kaylor child?

Anonymous said:

ISLA Blair, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.

lov4-kaylor said:

Could it be the babies name??? Ben??? Silly me that's the cat's name...

Anonymous said:

"When I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name " well she certainly did not forget to say Joe's name, so whose name could she possibly have forgot? 🤔😆

Anonymous said:

Anonymous said:

Well it could be Isla, as in the name, that's why it was capitalized. But if it was that simple why specifically direct us to the bridge? Food for thought: the bridge of the song has 11 verses/lines (according to google) and Coney Island has 11 letters. So maybe we should focus on the capitalized ones, which are 6-9? So on this part: "Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray / A universe away /And when I got into the accident / The sight that flashed before me was your face".

Anonymous said:

just dropping observations about the coney island bridge, maybe someone else can run with them

Isla is a (Spanish) girls name, that means island

when taylor sings your name in the bridge it sounds like someone is singing in the background/ there is an echo

the only other time this is the case is during the first three lines of the bridge specifically

your name is said exactly from 3:17 (11) to 3:19 (13)

one connection I made was to Taylor mentioning three kids on the last 'podium' where she thanked people. this seemed strange to everyone and feels like it was a placeholder for a name she 'forgot'/ couldn't say

@chosetherose said:

Ooo thanks TT!

First thoughts:

Isla is a popular baby girls name. Is this kaylor’s daughter’s name?

I need to listen to Coney Island again and think things through.

redpaintedgolden said:

i feel like it’s about

Were you waiting at our old spot

In the tree line

By the gold clock

the other lines are kinds self explanatory. and we know abot the birthday cake

Anonymous said:

Re TT Coney ISLAnd, the only thing that has been in my mind since the Grammys is the bit

And When I walked up to the podium

I think I forgot to say your name

Over and over..

So, the baby in Coney Island isn’t the same person that was named in the Grammys speech (obvious, yes)

But what’s really been haunting me about this song is the lyric “when the sun goes down”.. and coincidentally a certain embodiment of the sun or literal sunshine ☀️ went down (in the dark/out of the spotlight) around the same time evermore was released.

swift-79 said:

So I have a little time before a meeting so let see. London has a ferris wheel like a coney island. The London Eye. Lyric:"we're you waiting at our old spot. In the tree line by the gold clock".🤔🤔 So if it is about Joe why is someone waiting in secret! 😉😎🌈 So old golden clock maybe the Big Ben in London. Does it have tree lines?

Yes it does than next lyric:

"Did I leave you hanging every single day?"🤔

Another meaning for hanging can be "floating" She used that word not so long ago. 🤔🤔🤔

Lyric: "where you standing in the hallway with a big cake, happy birthday"

Now about the cake in the hallway we know that KK who left a Victoria Secret photo shooting to be at Taylor b-day or it about the cake in Miss Americana🤔

Don't have more time to decipher maybe this can be a start for another person to continue. I don't know if I am on the right path either. Good luck!!!! 😉😎🌈

kellykaylor said:

When I first saw ISLA in capital letters, i was thinking about the International Securities Lending Association, a trade association. But I dont think thats the part we missed.

So for all the NYC people out here: is there a physical bridge which u can take to coney island? maybe tea time anon was referring to an actual 🌉? swift-79 said:

Hmm Great Britain is an Island in the North Atlantic Ocean! 😉😎🌈

Anonymous said:

re: teatime anon, if the C in Coney ISLAnd is capitalized, perhaps the I would normally be capitalized as well, meaning the change would be the capitalization of SLA.

i don’t have much either than that but, SLA is an acronym for “Service Level Agreement” —which isn’t really a term in the entertainment world i don’t think but one example definition i found is “a guarantee of performance in a contract, with penalties for not hitting the published elements. For example, a customer might have a guaranteed 4 hour response window to equipment issues, or a guarantee on spare part arrival of 24 hours or less.”

#tea time #tea time anon

[faintingheroine]

A Lukewarm Defense of Rebecca de Winter

Look I am not going to argue that Rebecca was actually a good-hearted person. She was a bad person. She traumatized poor Ben and her treatment of Frank can be called workplace sexual harassment.

But I see people depicting Maxim as a poor man trapped in an abusive marriage and I just don’t agree. He had the instinct to kill her as early as her confessing her general sexual behavior to him in their honeymoon:

“She sat there, laughing, her black hair blowing in the wind; she told me about herself, told me things I shall never repeat to a living soul. I knew then what I had done, what I had married.” (...) “I nearly killed her then,’ he said. ‘It would have been so easy. One false step, one slip. You remember the precipice.” (Chapter 20)

Now, I think it is clear that Rebecca didn’t confess to being a serial killer or something. She confessed to being sexually active. Now, what that pertains to can be debated, did she have sex with multiple men, did she have affairs with women, or is it simply her not being a virgin? Either way, Maxim’s instinct to kill her there is horrifying. And it is also horrifyingly realistic, unfortunately.

Then they make a pact. Rebecca never cheats on Maxim, because she never lies to him. And we don’t actually know how much Rebecca was driven to marry with Maxim. She might have strived to marry him but this could also be an arranged marriage where both parties weren’t crazy about it. We don’t know. They make a pact. Rebecca will be able to carry on her affairs in exchange of managing Manderley excellently and putting a good face to the public and Maxim accepts. He isn’t a poor fifteen years old girl forced into an arranged marriage with an abusive man, he had a choice, he could easily divorce her, but he ultimately valued his reputation above his happiness. When Rebecca breaks this contract and brings her lovers to Manderley, he threatens to shoot Jack and ultimately shoots Rebecca.

Yes Rebecca does terrible things like her treatment of Frank, but Maxim doesn’t kill her because of these things. He kills her because she polluted the shades of Manderley by bringing Jack Favell into the grounds and then threatened him with someone who does not have his DNA owning Manderley. He does not shoot her because of jealousy or hurt, it’s an entirely pragmatic murder to prevent this latter possibility from happening. He does bring that gun to the cottage in preparation for an encounter with Favell, this is not a spontaneous crime of passion. And Rebecca manipulated him knowing that it will cause him to kill her, which does not say anything good about his character.

He does not feel one bit remorseful about the murder, he freely admits to that. Despite everything else that can happen afterwards, it was still worth it for preventing her son from owning Manderley. He is motivated enough to conceal the murder to the point of purposefully misidentifying a Jane Doe, which is horrible if you think about it a bit.

Some defenders of Maxim say that we would be ok with the murder if the genders were reversed. When some people defend women killing their abusive husbands those women are often battered wives who fear for the physical safety of themselves and frequently the safety of their children and who can’t walk away from the marriage without fearing for their lives. It is excused when it is regarded as self-defense. If a woman killed her husband for merely being a serial adulterer and having illegitimate children I would absolutely regard that woman as a horrible murderer. Also a simple gender reversal doesn’t work. Women and men are not equal in the society Rebecca and Maxim live in, and the attitudes towards the sexual promiscuity of men and women are absolutely different.

There are some other charges laid against Rebecca. Animal abuse is one of them, it comes from an episode related admiringly by Mrs Danvers of her whipping a horse bloody. This episode is certainly harrowing and is one of the most disturbing scenes in the book, but I think the disturbance is caused as much by Danvers’s admiration in relating it as much as the actual act itself. When put into context Rebecca is actually sixteen when this scene happens. It is also important to remember that hunting is the chief hobby of most of the characters in the book. They are not a class of people super sensitive about animal abuse. The same thing also can be said regarding the “incest” charges laid against Rebecca, these people are British gentry in the interwar period, while being with your cousin was getting less common, it was certainly not considered wildly abnormal, and no one in the book regards it as incest.

Regarding the trauma of poor Ben, this is certainly the worst thing Rebecca has done. And it is the first clue in the book to her true character. Rebecca threatens Ben with sending him to asylum so that he won’t talk about Jack and her being at the cottage. Remember that Maxim threatened shooting Jack if this happens. What Rebecca does is horrible but it is not motiveless cruelty, she does it for self-preservation. It is certainly not excusable and it does not make Ben’s trauma any less real, but it is not a sure sign of psychopathy.

I am not trying to paint Rebecca as a poor little victim, the whole point of the book is that she lived and died on her own terms. But I am very much disturbed by the real-life readers of the book excusing her murder by saying that she was emotionally abusive. My visceral reaction might have been caused by me coming from a culture where femicide and honor-killings are quite common. Many people in my country would still unequivocally regard an adulterous woman being murdered by her husband as entirely just. And there were multiple discussions surrounding femicide prevention about the time I started reading Rebecca, and I’ve seen in real time many men adopting the “emotional abuse by the wife” defense to explain away the prevalency of femicides. I am not joking. So I may be bringing my own cultural context into my reading of the novel. It might strike Western readers as merely a scandalous murder mystery, in my context there is nothing scandalous about Rebecca’s murder, it is a depressingly typical societal ill.

And Rebecca’s life wasn’t as glamourous as people seem to think it is. This is what Mrs Danvers says about her childhood:

“She was lovely then,’ she said. ‘Lovely as a picture; men turning to stare at her when she passed, and she not twelve years old” (Chapter 18)

And this is said by the woman who raised Rebecca. Her beloved cousin attempts to use her murder to get money, and his first response to learning about her having cancer is hoping that cancer is not contagious. Doctor Baker was clearly impressed by her stoic response to learning her illness and it was the most impactful part of the novel for me. She dies quite a bloody death. Rebecca’s life story gets very depressing when you stop to think about it.

I was put off by the possibility that the book might be trying to manipulate us into justifying femicide. But I think the last chapter proves that this was not really the intent. The last chapter was not the melodrama that I was expecting it to be. It was a farce laden with dramatic irony. And the last sentence of the book is “And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea”. The sea is Rebecca’s symbol in the book. They murdered her and concealed her murder and they don’t get to live in the house she created.

I am not saying you can’t love Maxim or you can’t ship him with the narrator. You absolutely can. And you can hate Rebecca the character. But I think excusing her murder on the basis of her being emotionally abusive is too much for me.

#Rebecca #daphne du maurier #repost because it does not appear on the tags #rebecca de winter

[mejcinta]

John Waker antis.

These are the kind of John Walker anti posts I just need to respond to:

“I didn’t even know there could be people actively defending that piece of shit but just for argument’s sake: he did get a slap on the hand?

Walker literally killed an innocent man in cold blood on foreign soil and mind you he didn’t do it in self defence or even during a fight, no he ran after the first guy he saw, took him down and decapitated him in front of a crowd and then left like nothing happened. May I remind you of the hateful treatment we (and by we I mean predominantly white countries) reserve to any person of colour who even dares to think something even remotely “submersive”? Yeah.

So yes, that white garbage fire got away with a slap on his hand because instead of being put on trial for slaughtering a man, he’s just sent home with dishonor or whatever cuz he’s the epitome of entitlement and privilege. Call that justice will you.”

Duuuuuuuuuude!!! Here’s just a little something I’ve obsereved about these types of individuals and their fake SJW Playbook.

1. They’ll identify with morally questionable characters a.k.a criminals who mess up their own circumstances in heated situations, then blame it entirely on a party *outside* of themselves and their poor choices. Nico, mind you, wasn't entirely innocent. He was an accomplice to Lemar's murder. And he can't say he didn't sign up for war when he chose to fight beside Karli. John was high on the serum and took the wrong stance, to be fair. But to pretend that Nico was a saint who had no idea what he was messing up with is something else entirely. And clearly, he admitted he had messed up when crazed up John was standing over him.

2. They’ll remind people, especially black people, how 'privileged' as white people they are, and how them coming down to 'advocate' for black people makes them 'better' white people. This is what I hate most about such so-called fans. They treat black people as objects to gain golden societal points from, as they ironically state over and over again, how ‘privileged’ they are to be born a certain skin color. With all due respect, I find any 'fan' or person that talks such shit to me, as if I ever asked for their help or ever saw myself as a 'helpless, poor little black person in need of a savior' the BIGGEST racist ever!!!

3. These fans think they earn points by calling people of their skin color, 'white garbage fire'. Dude, have you no respect for yourself at the least?? It's not virtuous to insult someone for the color of their skin, it's actually deranged and evil. And many of these John antis are in fact very deranged and small-brained. They can’t see beyond their unhealthy hatred for how someone looks or talks.

4. Making everything about race... Gee, where do I even start. The Falcon & The Winter Soldier has served heavy facts about how the government uses people to pass their sinister agendas. They experimented on Isaiah. Another shadow government organization kidnapped, tortured and brainwashed Bucky. John Walker and Lemar Hoskins were programmed to believe they were serving their nation abroad when all that brought was death and destruction to foreign countries. Biggest takeaway from here is that the government WILL use you fools. 

And what's the latest method Western governments are using to pass outrageous, tyrannical laws?? The excuse of 'racism'. Mass disarmament of nation's because 'racism'. Mass censorship of freethinkers and people that question government/try to hold it accountable because 'racism'. Black people must be inoculated first with an experimental vaccine because 'racism'. Open borders, mass child trafficking, sexual exploitation, pedophilia and dangerous notorious gangs getting in because it would be 'racist' to strengthen border protection. Oh, and black people shouldn't pass in Math because how could they when Math is 'racist' and black people can't and shouldn't compete equally with others in a subject that even African students ( Math is compulsory here in Africa) are really good at and consequentially pursue meaningful and empowering careers that take them as far as actress Lupita Nyong’o, writer Wole Soyinka , actor Eddie Gathegi or American surgeon Ben Carson????

It's ironic, and beyond me, that these SJW John antis don't see they are the ones that are government/establishment props.

Now the question is: is John Walker, a character that’s a war veteran, programmed/conditioned into the role of Captain America and had a (black) best friend and has a beautiful, loving (black) wife a 'racist' simply because Sam wasn't ready to take up the Shield and voluntarily gave it up to the Establishment????? (Thankfully, he’s come around now).

John Walker is now liberated from government control and wants to do things his way, and he's bad for that?? He's literally what all of you 'SJW' fans aim to be right? A rebel breaking free from government control and exacting justice the way they see fit?

This is the big irony with John antis. Tell me you're petty without telling me you're petty, I guess.

#this needed spelling out because of how detached from reality people are #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #Captain America #john walker #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #US Agent #falcon #winter soldier #Zemo #baron zemo #james buchanan barnes #hydra #avengers #sjws #racism #john antis #government tyranny #government control #heroes #anti heroes

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

Hey there, you made a post recently bashing one of mine. Totally fine to disagree but bashing other people's posts aren't the way to go about it. Both posts you were bashing were speculation and if you really had a problem with it, you could've left a comment to open up a real discussion about it on my post or the other person's.

I think you misread some of the tones in the posts. We were exploring political themes in a fictional universe. These sorts of things aren't for everyone and there's a wide variety of perspectives on the subjects. The other person's was, as I interpreted it, a "hey what if this happened" sort of post. Mine was a theory about the dynamics between species based on what we see in canon. I don't think either warranted the reaction it got from you, especially considering the fact we're talking about a cartoon. Perhaps they are darker interpretations but not impossible. No bold, declarative statements were made. No one was pushing their thoughts on others. Both were just people sharing their thoughts on possibilities we could not see in canon.

Again, it's okay to disagree. You, however, took it a step further. I deal with discourse on subjects more serious than a cartoon so I really don't care if you think there's something wrong with this but I'm getting the sense you are trying to start drama in the fandom which really isn't appreciated. This is generally a positive space and it's not hard to match the tone, even when you don't agree.

If you keep this up, I'll just block you so we don't see each others posts. Can't speak for the other person, of course, but they're a respected member of the fandom so I'm sure people would also appreciate it if you didn't go after them.

But I will ask two things of you. If you continue making posts like this, consider using a more respectful tone. I have no idea how other people you have bashed reacted but you are saying these things about real people, many of them likely minors. It's not hard to be courteous.

The other thing is to not use the delusional tag or call people insane. Maybe some people have some hot takes or discuss theories in a sphere a bit extreme for a cartoon but that does not mean it's okay for you to directly attack them. And, some of the words you used are ableist language. I am not disabled so I am not necessarily affected by it but a bar must be set and I'm setting it pretty low. You can continue what you're doing but do not disrespect people or use ableist language. Even if you don't care what I think, note that chances are people will not take you seriously if you sound like a child throwing a tantrum or speak like you're trying to hurt someone.

Even though I disagree with your tone, I will admit you weren't completely off target. You had some good points. And if you had brought them up in a respectful manner, I would have been happy to have a discussion about it. But, you didn't and here we are.

Where the hell do I even start with this?

Ok, first of all NO I'm not trying to start drama. I'm expressing my distaste on a trend I've seen in posts in the Ben 10 tag where this echo chamber perpetually spews out ridiculous baseless shit.

"A generally peaceful space" lmao, you mean like the time several users INSISTED Cracker isn't a slur and you can't be racist to white people, after a user called another one it while shamelessly and without irony claim they wouldn't stoop to bullying like @xcatxgirlx was wrongly accused of? Or the fact several users adamantly and insistently warp and twist her words to fit their delusional narrative where she's apparently the next spawn of Satan or whateverthefuck? Or the fact if you disagree with said echo chamber they'll call you bootlicker and say you have brainrot.

Also can you quit with the victim complex? I'm not going after anyone, I'm refuting claims and headcanons by pointing out no such thing is even remotely hinted at in canon.

Gods at this point I'm going to have to pin dictionary.com with how often I've had to quote people the definitions of words.

having false or unrealistic beliefs or opinions:

In other words ideas not based in reality or that can be gleaned from pertinent information. Reality in this case being the canon of the series.

Saying Ben wanted to kill Kevin because he was jealous of him saving the day in the Forge of Creation episode is FLAT OUT DELUSIONAL. Full stop.

Saying the Plumbers would practice brutality and gay bashing at the drop of a hat DURING PRIDE MONTH is utterly baseless and ridiculous, not to mention actively insensitive to irl acts of such. Their WHOLE THING is keeping the peace and anyone practicing police brutality would get jailed JUST LIKE THE NUMEROUS TIMES IN CANON THEY'VE DEALT WITH EVIL PLUMBERS.

Saying the Galvans are totally discriminating against a entire species is absolutely baseless especially when shit all is preventing said species from basically doing whatever the fuck they want. Baz-El is literally a damn archeologist after all.

You want to know what all those things have in common?

They take the flimsiest of "evidence", ignore context, and actively distort facts to shine things in the worst light possible, like a corrupted fun house mirrors from hell.

Also why would I ask for permission to document for posterity posts I reference? I'm literally only doing that shit so they can't say said posts didn't say what it did or if said posts are erased. It's no different from using the Way Back Machine to check on old posts.

Also also, like for future reference PLEASE add spaces to your posts. Your ask was honestly kind of hard to read.

#ben 10 #asks #plumbers #kevin levin #ben tennyson #galvanic mechamorph #galvan #mini omni rant #delusional ben 10

[beauregard-s]

Verdigris | Bill Denbrough

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader (18 yo in this one)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, mild hate-to-love trope and mentions of cheating and toxic relationship

A/n: ‘The one with Baseball Player!Bill and the song Verdigris by Gus Dapperton’

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He can’t stop watching you. 

At the bowling alley on a Friday night. Your arms crossed, a hidden smile on as one of your friends rolls the ball and misses the pins miserably. You probably had a night off, or else you’d be at the arcade trying to tame the thirteen-year-olds that keep fighting over the Pac-Man machine. 

Bill can’t stop staring and it’s annoying beyond belief.

“For fuck’s sake, Bill! Are you playing or not?”

He’s forced to drag his attention away from you under Richie’s hiss only to perceive how everybody is staring at him - except for Ben checking on his shoelaces after tripping on them at least twice already. The looks range from Richie’s pissed one, to Mike, Beverly, and Eddie’s confusion, and laying on Stan’s impassivity.

“I just puh-played two rounds ago, Richie, stop m-mah-messing the order,” he complains, yes, but stepping up and grabbing himself a ball is the same as calling his own bullshit.

His move is absent anyway, only hits three pins because he backs off as soon as the ball leaves his fingers, making room for Ben to go next. Standing more in the back so he can turn his head in your lane’s direction again, all the way across the alley.

Only in time to watch you striking for the second time that night.

Only in time to catch how your eyes automatically fly in his direction right after that.

It’s quick, just a few seconds before you turn away again like at school two - or three? - weeks before, when you shouted out loud in a hallway about how you were cheated on, a thing many girls would hide, never talk about and pray for it to never come up. But you didn’t. When Henry Bowers leaned by your locker and probably tried to slide in some smug explanation, you shut the metal door so loud people around turned their heads and others who didn’t hear it from the first time caught on what was happening as soon as you told him to go ‘get his dick wet with Anna Thompson from now on’.

That being said you stormed out, and your eyes met his because he was frozen in a trance not perceiving at first he was blocking your way.

He couldn’t call you a bully, but nor could he call you an angel. You were Bowers’ girlfriend for quite a while, never messed with him but was never smooth either. You always stood neutral about Bowers tormenting him, almost bored, he noticed. Maybe uncomfortable with the situation if he overthought on that?

Never mattered. Bill recognizes he doesn’t know much about you, never got interested in doing so. Never needed to. You are just y/n, Henry Bowers’ blessed girl - because, thinking about it, yes, someone must be somehow holy to endure that one. Y/n, who he thought that barely minded him but still locked eyes and seemed to flash him a very inconspicuous smile that brought him back to Earth and made him move aside to let you walk into your 6th period class.

Y/n that since then started to hover above him like a little bird of prey, keeping those secretly mischievous eyes on him whenever they shared the room. Driving him insanely curious to find out what all of this is about.

“I swear to God, Big Bill!” Richie cries out in frustration, clapping his hands together in a desperate try to get his attention, “it’s your turn again!”

***

“Homealone again?” Stan asks while buckling up on the driver's seat after leaving the alley almost forcefully when the place closed, Mike’s horn breaking the late-night silence as he leaves to take Ben and Bev home.

“Yeah, for the weekend.” Bill sighs, sinking into the seat and smirking. “Why? Wanna throw a p-party?”

Stan snorts in the dark, turning the keys for the headlights to break through the darkness ahead. “Not after the last one,” he starts the car and leaves while Bill recalls the last party they went to. The party where around 1 am everybody started gossiping about how someone entered a room without knocking and... 

“Y/n l/n, then?”

Bill moves uncomfortably. Of course, the party where everybody found out you were cheated on before you could do it yourself. Stan Uris really sees everything, knows everything, and perceives everything. And also have the gift of smoothly leading people into the point he wants to get to.

“I don’t think so,” Bill says. 

Stan swirls the steering wheel to the left into a quiet street, suffocating another laugh. “So you’re telling me you were not perving on her the whole night.”

“I wasn’t p-puh-p-perving!”

“No!” Stan’s laugh finally comes filled up with irony. “At the bowling alley, at school, whenever she shows up during practices and her great presence disturbs you to the point you miss the pitches… Since she broke up with Bowers, whenever she’s around your mind goes wasted”. Bill grimaces and he goes on. “And judging by tonight, she seems to be at the same place as you are.”

“She’s not at the same p-place as I am because I’m not at any p-place, Stan.” Bill sticks his arm out of the window into the cold breeze, feeling something boiling inside him. That annoyance again. “She’s been teasing me since she broke up with her dear b-boyfriend, it’s all.”

Stan slows down at a crossing, making a snap noise with his tongue. “How convenient, no?” Bill scowls, eyes off the road to look up at his slightly raised brows, and he goes on, “Bowers’ girl gets cheated on and then starts flirting with you, Bill Denbrough. The guy who had his lip split open by those fists more times than we could actually remember.”

“Tell me about it…” Bill’s voice barely comes out as he watches the stores slowly turning into houses with dark windows and faded front porches, trying to smother that burning feeling inside. 

“And you’re playing her game,” Stan adds calmly.

Bill snaps his neck towards the driver's seat again but Stan only shows that same impassivity from earlier, eyes solely on the road. “Don’t tell me you’re not, because you are. I saw it tonight. Besides it, we all know you’re that sucker for unbecoming stuff.”

Bill shakes his head, gnawing on his cheek in bitterness as the car stops in front of a two-floor house and Stan turns the keys, sending them into silence and darkness again, turning on his seat to face a skeptical Bill unclasping his seatbelt harshly.

“I am not. I wanna f-find out what game is she p-playing b-but I’m not playing it myself.”

“Okay,” Stan taps onto the wheel, grinning in his disbelief because he knows Bill well enough to know he may sound like he has his foot down when he’s in fact as unsteady as sand. “But she could put you in big shit trouble, you know?”

Bill gets out of the car, leaning into the window as soon as he closes the door, drawing a cockish grin. “Yeah b-but, again, I’m not playing her game, Stan.”

He assured himself that, even though his mind wanders towards you until he goes to sleep and even though you remain there when he wakes up Saturday morning. 

He’s not playing your game.

But you’ve been testing his limits, slowly getting under his skin somehow with so little effort. Catching his attention when he doesn’t want to give it to you. You’re guaranteed trouble and he hates how you leave him restless whenever you are out of his sight and trouble his mind whenever you are both sharing space.

But he’s not playing your game.

Yet he still finds himself waiting outside the arcade later at night, at a discreet distance with his hands tucked in his jacket’s pockets to keep them from freezing under the fall weather. Bill watches you leading the last kids outta the place, promising an upset little guy they’ll be open early the next day too and turning the sign hanging on the glass door as soon as they leave to warn everyone the place is finally closed. The sweet way you talked to the kid doesn’t match the troublemaker image he painted of you in his mind throughout the day.

He’s not playing the game, but he’s ending it before he goes insane. Being a chess piece is not on his plans. He doesn’t know where you’re going with all of that so he walks into the store, immediately catching your attention.

You’re checking and closing the cashier when the noise makes you look up from behind the counter only to find the surprisingly-not-so-popular pitcher of the Derry High School’s baseball team standing there in between the flashing machines. 

“Hey there, Denbrough,” you say softly, bringing your attention back to the dollar bills. “We’re closed.”

He taps his foot, trying to find the words to say what he wants to say because even though he planned talking to you the whole day, suddenly he feels lost and vulnerable under that nonchalant way of yours. 

“I know, I didn’t come to play.” Bill feels proud of how steady he sounds although he’s clenching his hidden fists. He has the slight impression you are not as confused as you seem when you eye him again. This time deeper. 

“How can I help you then?” 

He thought he had a solid plan, but he doesn’t at all. All he can think of is how did Bowers get you? A straight A’s girl with such sweet talk, pretty face, and bold demeanors. 

“You can help me by stopping m-messing around.” There goes his steadiness through the window, every single drop of it when your lips give him a lopsided smile, closing the cashier and pulling a bunch of keys out of a drawer.

“And what do you mean by messing around?” you walk around the counter and passing by him because even though Bill Denbrough is standing in front of you straight out of a dream in his stupid letterman jacket, a robbery wouldn’t be welcome and you gotta lock the doors and close the curtains. That blocks all the light from the outside, sending both of you into a gloom only lightened by the neon lights around. 

“I mean all the flirting you’re doing.” His voice deepens a tone. “ I want you to stop it.”

He looks adorably anxious, of course. All fidgety when he’s trying to confront you that way but flinching when you turn on your heels to face him, his hands still in his pockets for what? Hide his nervous manners?

Not that you’re that secure yourself with your sped up heart. You wish you had pockets too so you could hide how you poke a cuticle on your thumb.

“I’m not flirting with you,” you say simply. “I know you’d like that, but-“

“You wish, l/n” he hisses and you know you’ve hit a weak spot. Also not that you didn’t know said weak spot exists.

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not getting in trouble for it.” Bill steps closer, letting his sweaty hands finally fall to his sides. 

“Again, I’m not the one messing around” You see his jaw clench, and go on leaning back against the Donkey Kong machine. “You are.”

Bill snorts and the way he runs his fingers through his auburn hair messing it in frustration makes things to you. Yes, Bill Denbrough in his lettermen jacket is stupid… stupidly hot, even if you hate admitting that.

“I’m n-not-“

“Are you sure?” You defy him, resting your hands on the machine and accidentally hitting the joystick. “So you’re telling me you’ve not been leering me around, casually hanging out with your friends by my locker or… Following my ex-boyfriend around to make sure he’s not coming close to me, Bill?”

Touché. 

You never called him ‘Bill’ before, but thought it would match the soft-turn your voice takes and the little ‘got you’ move you just made. Bill thinks it raises a level. He said he didn’t come to play, but it feels like he did and now he’s losing because you know something you shouldn’t. 

You know last Tuesday he followed Patrick Hockstetter’s car because he saw them harassing you when you were walking home after school. He watched when they pulled over by the sidewalk, Bowers leaning out through the window and saying something that made you argue with him for a while before you kept walking and they drove out. Bill should’ve turned right and drive home, but he turned left and followed them instead, made sure they went home and not after you. 

“I was just trying to m-muh-make sure you were safe,” he reasons but inside he’s recognizing his failure.

Maybe you’ll call him a creeper for that? No, you just bat your eyelashes.

“You really have an unforgiving hero complex.”

“I don’t have a hero complex.”

He does. And maybe an unforgiving crush too because he realizes you’re not the one hovering here. He is. He always thought he never paid attention to you but he did all the time in the deep of his head, dreary by the fact that you ended up with someone like that disgusting jerk.

“A hero complex and a huge neglect towards yourself, apparently” you bicker, the changes in his mind showing briefly in his expression.

“Okay, I m-may be the one m-messing around but you don’t seem like you’re trying to run from it.”

The others have already warned Bill about that, his lack of fear and his broken anti dumbness filter, mainly Beverly, but there he is again. Making dangerous, uncalculated moves, totally improvising his next step to avoid a checkmate from you.

He’s kinda angry, maybe embarrassed, eyes locked on your as he comes closer. You don’t answer because he got a point. From the moment you noticed Bill paying more attention to you after you were publicly free from Henry, you never intended on cutting him off. You fed the fire and now, with his eyes so deep in yours and the smell of his cologne all around you, you let him taste a bit of power to decrease that embarrassment of his. 

“Are you trying to imply that I want you too?” You whisper, no need to talk louder with his chest an inch from yours like that. 

He likes how beautiful you look like that, face shining in verdigris tones flashing from the next machine, the way it turns you into neon pink and back to the blueish-green. He likes how daring you look even if he’s towering over you, inches taller, little knowing how you’re putting on a fight to keep yourself solid and your thoughts in place. Without much success when he leans in and brushes his chapped lips along your soft ones.

“Again, you wish, l/n.”

The previous moves were yours but in a turn, you’re the one getting the final checkmate when you give in and pull him into a kiss. A greedy and heated kiss that showed how you’ve been craving each other. Bill presses against you as he’s trying to challenge the laws of physics, his tongue licking into your mouth as your hands clutch on his thick jacket, feeling his broad shoulders underneath. His hands cup your face, his thumbs gently tracing up your cheekbones in contrast to how roughly his lips take yours, only for a moment before his arms embrace your waist and he smugly slides a large hand into your jeans’ pockets.

He swore himself he wouldn’t play your game, but he feels like he did and just lost it when he leaves your lips and trails the tip of his nose down your neck, feeling how you softly quiver in his arms, breathing in your perfume. Pulling away before everything goes to waste.

“As I said, totally n-not running away from me,” he mutters, leaving you. 

You shake your head slowly, a mazy little smile glued on your lips. “Screw you, Denbrough…” But the words drip out like honey to him as he walks backwards towards the door. 

Bill turns the keys still in the lock behind his back, flashing a cocky grin at you as he pushes the door open. He feels defeated, you do too but somehow none of you regret what just happened in the empty arcade. He can see you don't by the way you look at him as he leaves. It’s not just one of those glances anymore.

He feels defeated, but maybe it will be worth it.

“S-see you later, y/n.”

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough fic #bill denbrough fanfic #bill denbrough fanfiction #it #it imagine #it fic #it fanfiction #it fanfic #the losers club #the losers club imagine #the losers club fic #the losers club fanfic #the losers club fanfiction #the losers club x reader #beauregardwrites

[dacompanionreactions]

How would cast of Da:I react to sweet Cinnamon roll Inky to be a Writer of most dark popular psychological-thrills and horror books (they read them and was also surprised to find a official permission of Chantry Divine to publish there books with controversial religious motives)? Like, he/they/she is Thedos version of Ito Junji, Stevan King and Tarantino.

Cassandra is utterly shocked. First at The Divine for allowing such controversial, dark and thrilling books to be published, and second at the Inquisitor. "You... wrote these?" She can't fathom how someone with such a tender and gentle personality can write such gory books. One time, she asks them to write a short romance story for her. They did not disappoint.

Varric loses it. He loves it! His friend, the softest person he knows (apart from Daisy of course), the author of the most gripping and graphic novel he's ever read. "Andraste's ass, this is the best news I've had all week." He'll ask them to collaborate, and the two of them write a book that could rival Hard In Hightown. It's gory. The illustrations are nightmare inducing. It's perfect.

Solas is surprised that the Chantry allowed the books to be published. Some of the Inquisitor's books contain very controversial religious views. Essentially, it's blasphemy. But they're brilliant. He finds himself hooked on their books as much as he'd hate to admit it. Solas accidentally reveals this when he asks when the next book is coming out.

Dorian almost spills his wine on himself. "Vishante kaffas! I did not see that coming." He's an avid reader of their books, partly for the fact that they're really good, but mostly for the fact that they're banned in Tevinter. Dorian is surprised that they're not banned in Ferelden too. Southerners always continue to surprise him.

Sera laughs so hard she's doubled over and her stomach hurts. "You wrote...? You? OH MY-" She explains that she got into them when she stole a noble's collection as a prank. Sera looks the Inquisitor up and down. "You really don't seem the sort to be writing this kinda stuff."

Blackwall starts wheezing until he's almost on the floor. The irony of it is hilarious. The Inquisitor is probably the nicest person he knows... he's finding it hard to see them writing such controversial and graphic books. Not to mention that The Divine approved of them. He's getting a headache from laughing about it.

Cole doesn't really get all of the fuss. He's read the books. Some of them confuse him. In other books, he can see clearly what the Inquisitor was thinking while they were writing them. "Your books bring joy to people, sometimes fear and disgust, but mostly joy. It makes you happy."

The Iron Bull is elated. He's had this sneaky feeling for a long while that the Inquisitor was hiding something. "I just knew, Boss. Ben-Hassrath training." He regrets getting Krem into the books because Krem shared them with Dalish, Dalish shared them with Rocky, Rocky with Stitches and the list goes on. The Chargers want signed copies, so Bull is the one that has to ask. "Not my idea, Boss."

Vivienne finds this absolutely priceless. Her favourite is definitely the book where mages resided in the Chantry. Naturally, there's a rampaging monster that kills half the characters by the end, but Vivienne appreciates the concept. Still, the Inquisitor? "I had no idea, darling."

Cullen found out after the Inquisitor accidentally left a signed copy on the war table after a meeting. He picked the book up and couldn't put it down, which is saying something for a Commander who gets no free time. "You wrote this?" Cullen's impressed. There isn't much able to distract him from work. The ability to write such gory literature is slightly concerning, however.

Leliana knew. Don't ask how, she just knew. She's read every single book. At some point Leliana got her hands on scrapped drafts and unfinished illustrations. She loves the books, the twists, the religious controversy, the bloody illustrations, all of it.

Josephine is a bit wary at first. She hasn't read the books by the time the Inquisitor tells her, but she has definitely heard of them. Josie decides to finally read one and she was hooked. The books are so well loved that she managed to form at least ten alliances based on them.

#dragon age companions #dragon age inquisition #cassandra pentaghast #dragon age cassandra #varric tethras #solas #dragon age solas #dorian pavus #dragon age sera #dragon age blackwall #dragon age cole #iron bull #the iron bull #madame de fer #dragon age vivienne #cullen rutherford #dai cullen #dragon age leliana #josephine montilyet #inquisitor cadash #inquisitor trevelyan #inquisitor adaar #inquisitor lavellan #dragon age inquisitor #the herald of andraste #herald of andraste