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#I need to draw Ben more he's so fun
drawnfamiliarfaces · 5 days
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Heroes of Millennium (HoM) AU
Act 1, Omake (Extra): Master of Time - (here)
Act 1: What was left behind. - read here
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estussoupguy · 1 year
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started this little dude a couple months back but had no clue what i was doing when i started colouring and gave up
cleaned him up and made him pretty enough to share lol
i dont think drowned corpses bleed like that but he looked weird without it
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bellatrixscurls · 8 months
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exquisite weather today, no? | part i
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warnings : smut, dom anthony and sub reader, pet names, fluff, ben and colin being little shits, reader is kind of naive given the action takes places sometime in the 1810s.
summary : anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand?
a/n: please enjoy part one of my new series until i am done with the james and sirius fic, thank you! <3
“You are telling me that you have not slept in that way with your wife?” Benedict stops in their way down the halls, looking very much concerned. Anthony hums, checking his clock.
“But you’ve been married for almost a year now!” the younger brother exclaims, looking up at the viscount with a frown.
Anthony smirks and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Not that it is any of your concern, but we do things. Together. Alone” his lie is obvious, but still, he leaves Benedict stunned in the middle of the hallway.
When he finally realises that the maids are looking at him funny, Benedict clears his throat and offers them a polite nod, before following Anthony into the drawing room.
Ah, here you are — sitting next to Colin on one of the sofas. With Anthony distracted, speaking to Daphne about the ‘Hearts and Flowers’ ball, he approaches you carefully, sitting beside Colin.
“Exquisite weather today, isn’t it?” he gives you a nod and you mirror his action, smiling, “Indeed it is, Ben.”
Colin looks between the two of you, back and forth, a confused smile gracing his lips. “This is not about the weather, is it?” he whispers through gritted teeth.
Benedict’s smile turns into a grin when the words leave his brother’s mouth. “I am, in fact, glad that you asked, Colin!” he says happily, “I came here because I need some... advice, from Y/n.”
Raising your eyebrows, you look at him in curiosity, “and what could someone such as yourself need advice for?”
Benedict thinks about it for a moment; should he say it? He means no harm but... a little fun won’t hurt... will it?
“Sex” the words leave his mouth and Colin chokes on his tea, eyes wide as he looks back at Benedict. ‘Are you mad?’ he mouths to his brother, but the second-born chooses to ignore him and look back at you. “So. Y/n?”
Benedict finds you looking up at him with wide eyes, lips pursed as you tried to search for that word in your mind, but with no results. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Ben.”
This time, it is Colin looking back at you, a deep frown settling on his face. “Pardon? Anthony is your husband, there is no such thing as not knowing what sex is.. Does he refer to it differently?”
“You know... when you’re alone, naked, and he towers over you. That thing he puts in between your legs” Benedict quips, already very much content of where Colin has taken the conversation.
“He towers over me?”
The two burst out laughing at your cluelessness and, from the other side of the large room, Anthony’s brows furrow in concern.
“His cock, sweetness. What he has between his legs. I’m sure he spoils the crap out of you with it every night” Benedict taunts and Colin laughs breathily, adding on “or maybe he does not, brother. Seeing that Anthony is so busy all the time. He has more important things to take care of, I suppose.”
At this point, your eyes are teary and your hands are shaking as you listen to your brothers-in-law tease you endlessly. You are not aware of the meaning behind it, though.
In a moment, you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you up against the warmth of someone’s body; Anthony. As you look up at him, his heart shatters and his jaw clenches. “I do not know what you did, but be sure that I will find out. And when I do, I hope you will be taking a walk far away from here. More walks.”
And with that, he takes you away from his brothers and rest of the family, not bothering to excuse himself or you, his face red with hatred. He doesn’t know what his brothers told you, but he is positive that it managed to hurt you... And Anthony cannot bare seeing you hurt.
His hand grips yours tightly, in a possessive manner, not hurting you. He is always gentle with you, no matter the circumstances.
Once you reach the wooden door, Anthony ushers you into the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back, following closely behind before he closes the door.
“What did they tell you, my love?” his tone is alarmed and so are his hands, twitching at his sides.
When your eyes finally meet his, they are still filled with tears, sadness pulling at your heart. “Am I a burden to you? Am I- not pretty enough?”
Anthony’s heart breaks and he realises that he’s never seen you so sad before, not even when you were merely a couple and you had family issues.
“Angel, you have to tell me what it is that they told you. I need to know” he repeats through gritted teeth, ready to walk down those stairs and strangle Benedict and Colin.
“Sex” you repeat Benedict’s words unsurely, glancing up at Anthony. “Told me you are too busy for that. And I- you have never told me of that.”
At this point, his hands fly to your waist and he positions you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your lower body as he turns you to face him entirely. “My darling- They told you that? I-” he seems at a loss for words, and finally, his lips fall into a straight line and he lets go of your hand for a second, walking away from you, and to the floor mirror in his room. You pout as you lose his warmth, and your brows furrow when you notice him pulling the mirror towards you.
He takes his hand in yours and he helps you to your feet, your bottom lip wobbling when you catch sight of your teary eyes, but Anthony notices immediately, and his hands move to hug you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“You are so beautiful” he says softly, placing a kiss on the side of your neck, nosing at your skin as he continues speaking, “Undress for me, my love.”
Breathing having picked up, your eyes widen anxiously as your hands find his. “Anthony-” “I want to show you how good I can make you feel. Trust me. Please” he pleads, his eyes looking helplessly into yours. You give a curt nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage.
Your shaky hands move to undress yourself and Anthony helps peel off your dress and chemise, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him.
Anthony lets out one of the most obscene sounds when he presses his clothed body to your bare one, and you can feel his erection pressing into your backside, not that you are aware of what that is. Yet.
“Your hand. Move it down your body” he commands rather softly, watching you through the mirror. Your cheeks heat up but you obey nonetheless, your left hand stopping right above your lower stomach, “Lower. Touch your pussy for me, sweetheart.”
“Alright” you take a deep breath, your hand sliding further down your body, resting at your cunt, your warm touch making you shiver. “Feels odd” you whine, eyes pleading as you find his eyes through the mirror.
He bites his lip, his eyes closing for a moment before he is able to look at you again. “It shall feel good in just a moment... Can- Do you want me to show you?”
“Yes, please” you whisper and his hand instantly reaches to your cunt, using both of his hands to spread you open, your folds damp and spread out for him. “S’pretty” you say absentmindedly, dreamily staring at yourself in the mirror.
“Yes it is” he hums, grinning widely against your shoulder. His middle finger taps your clit twice, and he smirks as your body jolts up. “See this, darling? It’s your clit, your little button... You can rub it whenever you wish to feel good.”
“Whenever I wish?” you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.
“Yes, sweetness” he hums, his cock hardening at the thought of you wanting to touch yourself, let alone to the thought of him. “And if you want it to feel even better, you must-” with your hole dripping wet, Anthony manages to slip a digit right inside of you, causing you to gasp in both slight pain and excitement. He is finally giving it to you.
“Anthony- what is this?” you ask curiously, Anthony’s finger still inside of you, leaving you to adjust to the sudden intrusion.
“Bit of stimulation before I can give you my cock, bunny. Or, as my dear brothers wish to call it, have sex” he chuckles lowly and starts pumping his finger into you, your fragile body shaking, your knees ready to give out, but you know that he is here to catch you.
“Great” you reply breathily, one of your hands slipping into his.
“You must relax, my love” he tuts, moving his finger in and out slowly, the feeling leaving you bucking your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back. “Let them enjoy the show” he eyes you intently through the mirror.
You look at him rather confused, but his other hand moves to cup your jaw and gently turn your head to the side, towards the door.
A door cracked open. Benedict and Colin.
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enviedear · 6 months
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nervous neighbor ⟶ ben solo
description ⌙ you're back at home from university, living with your parents for the summer because it's cheaper than trying to pay for an apartment while on a student's salary. but after you meet the new neighbor's son, ben solo, you're not so sure it's worth it.
pairing ⌙ neighbor!ben solo x f!reader
warnings ⌙ inebriated reader & ben, they're smoking weed and being petty together, mean!ben because when do i not make him a bit mean, ben jokingly attempts to solicit reader, reader has a blatant sort of fascination with ben, ben has severe blatant yearning for reader, reader is described to need a belt to wear ben's pants (don't question me it comes up), some high kisses (they're so fun oops), somewhat getting caught, tiny little bitty cliffhanger, ben's personality is totally based off this brent faiyaz song lmao
word count ⌙ 3.5k
— request (frl especially for ben/kylo) | masterlist
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i love the idea of neighbor!ben so ofc i had to put my thoughts into a little fic! if anyone is interested... i wouldn't be mad at making this a series. i love neighbor!ben!
the sun is low in the sky, casting a warm and appreciated golden glow on the world around you. you revel in the sanctity of the suburban environment as you step outside your front door. the rays burn into your exposed shoulders, spaghetti straps lightly digging into the skin.
the fragrant scent of freshly cut grass hangs heavy in the air, leaving an earthy flavor in your mouth. you pull at the hem of your shorts, feeling the soft fabric brush against your exposed thighs as you make your way to the black mailbox straight ahead.
you flip through bills and junk mail, all in your parent's name for a minute before you hear the unmistakable rev of a car engine approaching. the engine seems to purr the closer it gets, and you're all too familiar with the sound. you feel glued to your spot as it approaches.
soon enough, ben solo's sleek aston martin swerves into his driveway, coming to a stop just a few feet away from his closed garage door. you watch as he gets out of the car, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead, and meets your gaze with his severe brown eyes.
there’s something about the way he looks at you that causes your heart to race. the sensation is unwanted or, at least, you tell yourself it is.
he looks like he always does; clad in dress pants and a pristine button-up, face etched with subtle haughtiness, and pink lips curved into a deliciously heretical grin. the previous sanctity you felt dissipates as his stare beats down on you, hotter and more all-consuming than the sun above.
"neighbor." he anoints, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "how much allowance are mommy and daddy giving you for checking their mail?"
"very funny," you retort, eyes rolling, "maybe they're drawing from the same funds your parents did when they bought you that ridiculous car."
you liked playing this game with ben. where he attempts to seem as if he's got something over you, some unspoken win. as if you're not both twenty-somethings still living with your parents.
he does have an actual retirement plan type job though, so, perhaps, he has you beat in some areas.
he works full-time, a fact you learned after dinner with your parents and his. brought up by your parents so they could dote on him— effectively buttering up han and leia further. the ass-kissing earned the family privileges to their in-ground pool though.
he's pretty prestigious, unfortunately. ben organa-solo, the youngest associate at his legal firm. he apparently had over forty offers of employment before he ever even looked at the bar exam.
he's doing well, sure— but the sheer fact that he still lives with his parents is enough to quell your nuanced jealousy. somewhat.
"my db-nine can never be called ridiculous. do you know the specs on this car?" he taunts, opting to lean against his aforementioned car.
you begin to turn away from him, not willing to go into a conversation regarding his stupidly expensive automobile. you can feel your ears warming as you try to ignore him, but ben is relentless, as usual, "you know, you really should relax a little, i'm only joking, kid.."
"excuse me?" you snap, fronting him again and crossing your arms defensively, "i am plenty relaxed, solo. thank you very much."
in truth, you haven't been relaxed or even casual since the organa-solo's moved in eight months ago. wealthy and recently retired, leia and han are amusing, charming, and almost constantly travelling.
the pair managed to befriend your parents the second they moved in. bringing over a plate of brownies, the duo easily meshed with your parents, making for countless dinners, conversations, and visits between the two homes.
the opposite can be said for ben and you. when you finally met him, a few weeks after his parents moved in, it was because he was yelling at your dog for 'purposely' pissing on one of his tires. since then, you haven't exactly seen eye to eye.
"mhm, of course," he drawls sarcastically, "that's why you're always so wound up,” he’s smirking now, "you ever thought about smoking a joint or something? might help you chill out."
"really?" you scoff, raising an eyebrow, "that's your solution? drugs?" you choose to ignore his quip about you being tightly wound. as if he's not— you've seen him after work, he always looks tense, shoulders tight. at the recollection of his job title makes you almost comment on his choice of illegal activity, but you stop yourself.
maybe this was his vice after hours of listening to legal jargon?
"i'm just offering a suggestion. i've got pot and an empty house." his voice is biting, holding his hands up defensively, "take it or leave it, kid."
your mind is wrought with confusion over his words. in the few months you’ve known him, you would have never thought he’d be suggesting what he is.
ben solo, who drives an aston martin, only wears button-ups or suits, and is always willing to make you look or feel idiotic, is trying to convince you to smoke pot with him.
you worry for a brief second if you’re deluded.
you would have never suspected the famed judiciary to unwind in such a way.
no, your first guess would have been whiskey, or maybe something a bit more scandalized and indecent. you try to shake that idea out of your head.
"fine," you blurt it out before you can stop yourself, surprising both you and the arrogant figure in front of you.
"seriously?" ben questions, his eyes widening in apprehension. "you're actually going to do it?"
"yeah, solo," you shrug, drawing out the first word, trying to sound more resolved than you feel, "nothing i haven’t done before."
"okay, cheech," he mutters, grinning wickedly, "let me smoke you out."
you follow him into his house, heart pounding in your chest. you're familiar with the layout— almost identical to your own home, only nicer. everything is nicer.
the air inside is cool and smells faintly of lavender, mixed with something decadent you can’t quite place. glancing around the space, you take it all in. it feels different now that you're alone with ben. less homey and more belly of the beast.
there are windows everywhere, letting in an abundance of natural light despite the evident tint. the furniture is modern and obviously hand-picked though comfortable and no doubt, expensive.
you try to make yourself cozy on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. ben disappears for a moment and returns with a tray, a red grinder, a lighter, and a baggie of green herbs.
your hands go clammy as you watch him grind it down. you try to wipe them on your pants, hoping he doesn’t notice.
he doesn’t seem to, instead beginning to roll a joint, packing the herb down with his thumb. his movements, precise and hypnotic. he's defiling all previous conclusions you had of him. he’s sure, magnetic, and undeniably confusing.
“ready?” he asks, holding the rolled paper out to you. you nod, and he lights up the twisted end, inhaling deeply before passing it over to you.
you place the joint to your lips, feeling the warmth of the light spark grazing your fingers. the earthy plant kindles with a soft crackle, and you inhale deeply. smoke fills your lungs, coiling inside you.
the cloudy smoke immediately hits your entire sinus system, choking you on its descent down.
you cough and ben laughs, “shit, take it slow, kid.” he huffs, before handing you a tepid water bottle, no question he figured you'd wind up coughing a lung.
you drink gratefully, feeling the water cleanse your burning throat. you look at ben, who’s watching you intently.
your eyes are watery and slightly hazy, but ben has never look better. eyes red and low, posture easy with one arm behind his head, and faint pink flush.
“what?” you ask, self-conscious. the room seems to swirl around as ben sits beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body.
"nothing, neighbor," his stare is mocking, "do you feel relaxed yet?" he asks with a smirk.
you give him a meager thumbs-up, suddenly lightheaded and giggly. your thoughts are wondering to ben's pretty lips, but your mouth remains whetted and silent. adorning thoughts remaining within your capricious mind.
the tension in your body melts away, and you lean back against the couch cushions, letting out a deep sigh. ben's hand brushes against yours to steal the joint away, and you feel the heat of his touch all the way to your toes. it's as if the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and nothing else exists.
“are you cold?” he asks, taking a drag, dress shirt sleeves rolled up, leaving his arms on full display.
you look at him, bewildered for a second, and he continues with an eye roll, “you’re shivering.”
looking down at your body, you note that you indeed are. either from the weed or the proximity you have to your novel neighbor.
with a gentle breath, you reply, “i guess.”
he holds the joint with his lips as he stands to look down at you, “c’mon i’ve got blankets in my room.”
you look up at him, unsure of what to say, but find yourself bobbing in agreement. you follow him upstairs, the both of you languid in reaching the destination. when you do finally get to his room, you note the array of muted jewel tones and dim light, different than the rest of the house.
ben keeps his blinds partially closed and curtains that mostly fall in front of them. his bed is huge, pristine white sheets and an inviting navy bedspread.
you watch as he pulls out a thick woolen blanket from his closet and spreads it over your shoulders. you feel the weight of it settle over you, cocooning you in warmth.
"better?" he asks, voice low.
you nod again, feeling the hazy ardor of the drug swimming through your body. everything feels fuzzy, and for the first time you don't feel so out of place with ben.
he takes a seat beside you on his all too comfortable bed, the aroma of his pomelo-scented cologne filling your senses. you discern it's probably dangerous in some way to be alone with ben like this, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care or reason why.
you let yourself peer into his large and expansive open closet. clothes, mostly suits and dress shirts, hang neatly on identical black hangars. he's tidy. the fact feels unmistakable, and you think you should already know just by the way he carries himself.
ben's voice interrupts your absent mind, "anything you like?"
you look back at him, leaning up against the headboard of his bed, joint billowing smoke from its rested position in his fingers. he looks less severe like this, less perfect, more mortal.
you're certain the drug has taken effect now because when you move to get closer to him, it feels as if you're floating.
you take the joint from him, stealing another hit before replying, "you just have a lot of suits. i wonder if you own anything besides them. i've never seen you in anything but."
"is this one of your long-winded jokes?" he briefly closes his eyes, but you can see them roll through his lids, "because if so, i'll kick you out. i won't hesitate to send you back to your house, neighbor."
snorting, you take yet another hit of the joint, "i did see something i liked, actually." you confess, your drugged mind deciding to be just a bit genuine.
he hums, "really? i've never seen you in a suit, or anything formal."
the sentence sounds stupid coming out of ben's mouth, but you chalk it up to his tipsy state, "maybe you will. one day."
your reply sounds equally as dumb, but you feel good, and you're actually having a conversation with ben. one that doesn't involve him undermining you or snickering at what you're saying.
"really? wanna try mine on? for practice." ben is smirking, eyes narrow, searing, and bloodshot.
you give him a ditzy look, joint still dangling from your fingers, "whatever, solo."
ben lets out a genuine giggle at that, and in your inebriated state, you smile at the sound. his dimples are on full display as he leans further into his cushioned headboard, eyes glazed and focused purely at you, "i'll pay, if you do."
his face is gentle, almost winsome, but the words that tumble out of his mouth sound murky— riddled with a slight hint of hunger. for what exactly? you're not sure.
your lips contort into a frown before you reply, "you'll pay me to put on your clothes? god, ben how much did you smoke?"
you mean for your words to come off as a joke, easy and light. instead, it comes out as timid and shy. you'd normally feel a tinge of embarrassment but either the drug or ben's starved stare makes the would-be feeling detach from your mind.
"enough." he shrugs, answering your rhetorical question, "i've got five hundred in my wallet right now," he pauses, leaning over to you and grabbing the joint, fingers brushing against yours, "and i want a show."
your mind seems to blank for a second, leaving you to blink your dry, red eyes in front of him. when the small wave of shock subdues, you reply, "i don't know how to give you a show."
ben shakes his head slightly, his eyes still set on yours, “yeah you do. swear it's not hard, kid.”
“says you,” you giggle, “but i’ll try on your clothes. for the money.”
he breathes in, contented, “for the money.”
without much more thought, you rise from his plush bed and make way for the closet. it's big enough to be another room, a stark contrast from your own closet, and it smells of his citrusy cologne merged with the lavender scent throughout the home. you find it comforting.
you look back over your shoulder, ben's watching you intently from his seated position, "what should i start with, solo?"
he hums before replying, "your pick, neighbor. what's mine is yours."
you can't help the dorky smile that graces your lips at his sentiment, even though you know he's being flippant. you hastily turn away from him, hiding your weak-willed reaction.
taking a deep breath, you begin to rummage through his wardrobe. your fingers brush against the luxurious fabric of his suits before settling on a satin black button-up that looks silky smooth to the touch.
you grab it and turn around to face ben, who's now standing and walking towards you, his eyes fixed on the shirt in your hand.
"that's a good choice," he says, his voice low and husky, "you'll look better in it than i do."
you roll your eyes at his comment but can't help the warmth that shoots through your body at his words. you quickly slip it over your cropped tank, eager to see it on.
as you're buttoning it up, you feel his swarthy eyes on you, watching your every move. you can't help but feel giddy with his ardent gaze and your own euphoric state of mind.
as you finish up the last button, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the ornate mirror hung upon one of the closet walls. you look decadent in his pompous shirt.
the feeling of contentment that washes over you is startling.
it's a beautiful cut of fabric, but it's the way it represents the achieved man behind you that has you stalling. you notice ben's breath hitch as he takes in the sight of you.
"i was right. it looks much better on you." he says, his voice rough.
you grin at him, feeling a newfound confidence wash over you, "is that right, solo?" you question, your demeanor one of leisure.
without warning, ben steps forward, right hand coming to rest on your shoulder as he leans down to you, "here," he says, his breath hot against your ear, "you missed the first button."
his fingers dance at your chest, fastening the skipped button. you fight a smile at the act, keening at his rash action. high ben is certainly less sardonic than sober ben, finding a nice middle ground at graceful teasing.
"you pick the pants, and grab a belt so that they'll fit." you smile.
he hums, pulling away and trifling through his clothes. his nimble fingers card through various pairs of slacks, settling on a matching black pair.
he turns on his heels, facing you. he raises his brows, a silent request for you to take the pants. when you do, his hands begin to fumble with his belt.
your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, "what are you doing?"
"i want you to wear this one. just let me play dress up with you, doll." his black locks are falling into his eyes.
you huff out a weak chuckle, focused on his action and new endearment. when the belts slides away from him, you notice the way his slacks droop slightly.
with a curt and nervous smile, you slide up the dark pants, fitting his belt around your hips afterward.
you study yourself in the mirror, opting to tuck the shirt into the pants messily— an attempt to somewhat display your waist.
ben comes up behind you, hands resting on your shoulders, humming into the top of your head, "i quite like you this way. ever thought about getting an office job for me?"
you give him a sarcastic pout, "for you?"
he smiles, canines showing, "yeah, doll, just for me."
you're dizzy at his words, "yeah, then who'd watch my parent's house all day? it's a full-time job being a stay-at-home daughter, you know."
ben groans a bit at your words, "that makes you sound like a little brat, you know." he drawls out the last two words, mocking.
you smirk, facing him now, lips becoming level with his when he leans down to stare into your eyes, "my mom calls me a brat sometimes. she says i'm never going to find someone acting like one," you pause for a beat, "d'you agree, ben?"
at the emphasis of his first name he sighs and lets his hands fall to your waist, "i agree that you're a fuckin' brat," he cranes his head closer, breath brushing against your lips, "but i don't think i mind very much."
your eyes flutter against your better judgment, and ben takes an evident note of the fact. his hands tighten at your waist, fingers digging in possessively. you feel a beat of caution before it flies away from your resolution. you press forward just as he does the same, lips meeting in a slow, heady, absolutely exalting kiss.
ben's fingers dig into you, timidly pulling you further into him. you crumble at his touch, hands fisting into his hair as he deepens the kiss further. he tastes of sweet honey and sunlight that fills you with warmth and affection.
you're both weakly fighting for more— an incessant craving for each other that quickly overtakes your common sense. the looming man continues to cast an unbreakable spell with each aching kiss as his gentle hands caress every inch of exposed skin on your body.
you let his hands fumble with the buttons of the borrowed shirt, slowly slipping it away from you. it brushes past your shoulders, and ben breaks the hungry kisses to trail sloppy ones on your exposed neck.
you're lost in the feeling of him— all-consuming. neither one of you willing to be pulled back to reality— but eventually you both have to break away from one another with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks. ben looks down at you with an amused grin on his face before planting a chaste kiss on the top of your head.
you hum and he mutters against you, "you like that? hm?"
"duh," you steal a glance up, "feels s'nice." there's a stupid grin stuck to your face.
"you taste so good, doll," he places a teasing kiss at the dip at the bottom of your neck, "and your lips are so fucking soft."
you give him a questioning look, lips upturned, "really? sounds wild coming from the same man that just called me a brat."
he hums darkly, "you being a brat," he places another kiss to your exposed neck, "just makes this little game of ours more interesting," one of his hands lifts your chin, pulling you closer, "c'mere, kid."
his lips are back on yours, less languid and with much more fervor. you feel so full in his arms. divinely entangled in the coveted luxury of ben organa-solo.
suddenly, you hear commotion from downstairs, drugged mind abruptly anxious.
"what's that?" your voice is barely above a whisper.
ben growls, "fuck— i'm sorry doll, i think my parents are home." you catch the faint flush on his cheeks.
you bite your lip, concerned, "but... i'm high. and wearing your clothes."
ben is about to say something else when the deep baritone of han solo's voice booms from behind his closed bedroom door, "come on out, son. the neighbor's are over for dinner. their daughter should be here soon," han's voice drops a bit, "and try to ease up on the flirting this time, okay?"
you stifle an uninhibited giggle, earning a glare from ben.
"yeah, sure. just let me get out of my work clothes," he peers down at you, eyes wicked, "don't want them to think it's all i own."
your eyes widen at his subtle dig, and he seems to revel in your amusement.
han grumbles something back before leaving. your breathing is erratic for a good few seconds. ben's hands remain on you, gentle grin on his lips.
"you heard the man. dinner." his voice is low, and you fight the urge to pull him into another kiss. the thought of more than kissing weighing heavily on your stoned mind.
your reply knocks the smile off of his face, "how are you going to explain the fact i'm already with you and high off my ass?"
he groans, head falling into the crook of your neck, "shit."
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holylulusworld · 1 year
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Him, him or him?
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Summary: It’s your birthday and you decide to attend a speed dating event for fun. And fun it is…
Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Soldier Boy & Dean Winchester x Reader/You
Warnings: self-indulgent fanfic, multi-fandom fanfic, speed-dating, cocky Ben & Dean, implied smut, mentions of oral
A/N: I wrote this one for my birthday but used Y/N so anyone can be the reader. I’m a thirsty hoe, what can I say?
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“You want to do what?” your friend gapes at you. “But you said that you’d rather die than go on a blind date or ever consider speed dating.”
“Uh-it could be fun,” you smirk. “You know, I can tell every guy a different story. For one I’m a stewardess, for the next an exotic dancer, and maybe I’m a dominatrix too. Let me fuck up speed-dating for them as they did with the dates I had to endure. “OH! Maybe I fake I’m going into labor next time.”
“Y/N, spending your birthday with strangers is not how I imagined the day would play out. We still can go to a club or have dinner at your favorite restaurant.”
“It’s on my bucket list, babe.”
“Speed-dating is on your bucket list?” she huffs. “That’s lame.”
“Speed-dating and messing a date up,” you grin. “Let me have some fun before I’m getting too old and lose my teeth.” You chuckle. “Come on, I didn’t doll myself up to not have some fun…”
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“Hi, uh…I’m James,” the first guy sitting opposite you seems to be a little shy. He’s hiding behind a base cap and twiddles his fingers. “I came here with a friend. He wanted me to meet other people.”
“Y/N,” you hold out your hand. “I came here to…meet other people too.” You won’t mess with this guy. He seems to be nervous and shy. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” he mumbles. “So…what are you doing for a living?” James wants to know. “I’m kinda between two jobs.”
“Oh, I’m a Y/P (your profession),” oddly, you don’t lie to him. There is something about this man making your heart beat faster. “You said that you came with a friend. Is he looking for a date too?”
“Kinda,” James sheepishly looks at you. His soft blue eyes look you up and down, and for a moment it seemed there was a glint in them. “So, doll. Did you do this before?”
“No,” you sigh. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. You want to ask James if you want to talk somewhere else, but the bell rings and he says his goodbyes. “Aw, he wasn’t too bad…”
You watch James switch to the next table. He barely looks at the woman sitting opposite him.
“Hi,” a deep voice pulls your attention toward the man sitting down at your table. “I’m Steve. You just talked to my friend.” Damn, a tall blonde hunk took James’ place, and you fear this was an awful idea. “Did he talk to you?”
“Yes. He was a little shy but nice to talk to. I’m Y/N by the way,” you hold out your hand for Steve too. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same, doll,” he lowers his head and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You giggle as it’s a little old-fashioned. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Do you have any hobbies?” you look him up and down. Steve looks familiar to you, but you don’t remember if you met him before. 
“I like to draw, and work on my bike,” he explains in a hurry. The bell will ring anytime and then he’ll need to switch places with some other guy. “Maybe I could draw you if I had more time…”
You lift one brow.
“Crap. I didn’t want to come over as a creep. It’s just you’re a pretty dame and I’d like to draw you, doll.”
You don’t get the chance to answer. The bell rings again, and Steve leaves your table. He gives you one last glance, smiling as you watch him go.
“Crap. He was kinda cute too…and tall,” you mutter under your breath as another guy walks toward your table. His legs are bowed, and he has this sway in his hips you can only call cocky.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” he smirks, and his stunning green eyes sparkle as he turns the chair to sit astride the chair. “How’re doing here? Saw the other guys. Hmm…you can do better.”
“Hi. What’s your name?” you ask, holding out your hand for the cocky guy.
“Name’s Dean. I’m an Aquarius, enjoy sunsets and frisky women. You can find me on Tinder under Impala67.” 
You chuckle at his eagerness. “That was a lot of information within a few seconds.”
“We only got three minutes. Now that you know a few things about me, you can tell me everything about you. How about you give me your name first.”
“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Dean,” you shake his hand too. Unlike the other guys, Dean doesn’t let go of your hand. He holds it while you try to tell him more about you. “I like sunsets too, and cocky guys. I assume your username has something to do with your car.”
“My baby. A 1967er Impala. Black. She’s a real beauty,” he leans closer and smirks. “With a huge backseat.”
“Bold and cocky,” you chuckle as he flashes you an adorable smile. 
He sighs as the bell rings again. “Three minutes are much too short to get to know each other. How about we meet outside and see how the night plays out? I’ll be waiting for you if you want me to.”
Someone clears his throat behind Dean’s back. “Buddy, it’s my turn,” the man says as Dean turns around to size the man up. “You had your chance. Now get out of my way.”
“Uh-Dean. Maybe you should switch to the next table,” you try to stop them from fighting. 
“You can have the chair, not the girl,” Dean snarls at the man. He looks over his shoulder and flashes you another smile. “See you later, sweetheart.”
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You started with three great men. Sadly, the next men weren’t as nice as Dean, Steve, and James. They talked mostly about themselves, money, their exes, or, and that’s your favorite, how much they love blowjobs.
“Shit, how many more,” you huff as the bell rings one last time. “Hi. My name is Y/N. And no, I won’t give you a blowjob after we are done here.”
“A tempting offer,” the man sitting down chuckles. “But I would never ask a lady to give me a blowjob before giving her heads.”
“What?” your head snaps upward and you meet another cocky smirk. This one seems to be even cockier and more self-confident than Dean. He leans back in the chair and runs his hand over his beard.
“You seemed rather bored, sweetness. How about you tell me something about yourself? Name’s Ben, or the guy giving you multiple orgasms if you want to.”
“Whoa, you’re very…” you don’t find the right words. Is he intense? Cocky? Or arrogant. Maybe a mixture of all.
“You like sunsets?” he asks. “I heard you talking to the other guy. The one with the car he calls Baby.”
“Did you spy on us?” 
“I saw you and your friend before you entered the building and thought I should keep an eye on you, Y/N. You never know if a creep tries to get handsy,” Ben smirks as you lean back in your chair. You’re a little shell-shocked at his admission. “I only had eyes for you today. How about you forget about the other guys and come with me? We can have dinner…and more…”
“Whoa, you just admitted that you followed me and my friend. I don’t think this is the best basis for a first date,” you raise one hand to stop him from talking to you. “The others at least didn’t act like a creep.”
“I want what I want, sweetness,” he shrugs. “I’m not hiding that you caught my attention. It’s been a long time since a woman got my attention like you did.”
The bell rings one last time. You don’t know what to think or feel when Ben gets up from the chair. He smirks and taps the table three times. “I hope to see you later. If not, it was a pleasure talking to you.”
“Same…” you stammer. He makes you a little nervous, but at the same time, you’d like to get to know more about Ben. 
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When the show is over you walk toward the organizer to hand them your list of the men you’d like to get to know better.
“Miss Y/L/N, four of your dates tonight submitted a list to us with only your name on it. They wanted me to give you their information,” the organizer says. She hands you a piece of paper with the information about Steve, Bucky, Dean, and Ben.
“Uh-thank you,” you take the piece of paper, awkwardly glancing at the information. “What now? Do they want me to call them or…?”
“That’s up to you, miss. You can call them or ignore them. If you liked one of them, you could get in touch with him,” she says. “If you would excuse me now.”
She leaves you to talk to other women. “BABE! Did you get a number or two?” your friend happily shows you the number of one of the guys she met. “Show me yours.”
“I got…uh…four,” you show your friend the information you got. “I just don’t know which guy I liked more. They were all four really…”
“Hot? Sexy? Fuckable?” she swoons. “You know, maybe two of them are up to a threesome.”
You choke on the air. “What?”
“Guys like shit like that.”
“I can’t ask them to have a-“ you huff. “Steve and Bucky are friends.” You lick your lips. “I mean. Friends share things right?”
“You nasty little slut,” your friend snickers. “Do you want to ask them for a night to remember?”
“I could just rename birthday and call it dick-day from now on,” you muse when your friend’s eyes widen in shock. “It was your idea, remember. I have a threesome on my bucket list too…”
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“Hi-hey,” you walk toward Steve and Bucky. “I got your number and was asking myself if you are up to having…” your eyes wander toward Dean and Ben. You frown and wonder when they got best buddies because Dean is laughing about something Ben said. 
“What did you ask yourself?” Steve places his hand on your shoulder. “Doll, talk to us.”
“I don’t know. I was wrecking my brain to decide on whom I want to call,” you sigh deeply. “I liked you, and your friend. But there are two other guys I liked too.”
“Oh-four-leaf clover of hotness,” Bucky smirks darkly. “What do you say, Stevie? Are we up to some competition? I’d like to see her on all fours, serving me and you like a good slut.”
“Gentlemen, did we already decide on who is going to have her first?” you gasp as Dean and Ben step toward you. 
“What? I don’t understand.”
“We talked about inviting you to spend the night with us, sweetheart,” Dean whispers in your ear. “What do you say, Y/N? Do you want to come with us and have a sexy four-leaf clover of hotness all night long?”
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Tags in reblog.
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roxygen22 · 2 months
Text
Paper
"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series
Summary: Reader and Willy discover that Ben/Bean is an aspiring artist. Age: 3 & 17
<><><><><>
You were outside hanging clothes on the line to dry when you heard the back door slam and little feet running toward you. Before your brain could register what was happening, you were nearly bowled over by the force of Ben running into your leg.
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You looked down to find that Ben had buried his face and balled up his fists in your skirt. "Pa ell a mm," you heard his garbled speech muffled by the fabric. You knelt down and pried his fingers loose so you could look at his red, tear-streaked face.
"I'm sorry, Benny. I couldn't understand you when your mouth was covered. Take a deep breath." You inhaled deeply through your nose and out through your mouth a couple of times, motioning for him to copy you. "Good. Now, try again. What's all this about?"
"P-papa lelled at m-meeee." The boy started sobbing again.
"Oh dear. What happened?"
"I..." he sucked in a breath. "I wanted to dwaw him a picture. I saw paper on Papa's desk..."
"Ah, I see. Did that paper already have words on it?"
"Only on fwont. I dwew on back."
"Oh, Benny. We talked about asking before you touch anything in the study. Papa has very important papers in there for the shop and factory."
"I'm sowwy." He looked up at you with big puppy-dog eyes. You cupped his round cheeks in your hands.
"I know you are. But I'm not the one you need to apologize, too. Why don't you go inside to your room and play while I go check on Papa. After that, you can tell him you're sorry." Ben nodded, then shuffled through the back door to his room with his head hung low.
It was out of character for Willy to snap at anyone. The man typically had the patience of a saint, so you knew Ben must have drawn on something important. You quietly stepped into the study and spied Willy slumped in the armchair, one hand supporting his forehead and one foot kicked out. It looked as if he had collapsed dramatically into it.
"I made him cry," Willy said morosely without looking up. "I didn't- I didn't mean to. I shouted his name. I was just trying to get his attention and stop him before he did more damage. I...I startled him, and he ran off to you."
"Full name or nickname?" you asked as you sat on the sofa next to him.
"Full name," he groaned.
You grimaced. Ouch, you thought. Willy hardly ever referred to the boy as anything but Bean and almost never as Benjamin unless introducing him to others. It's on par with your mother using your middle name when you were in trouble. You shuddered slightly. That probably wounded Ben worse than the volume. "What did he draw on?"
Willy held up the face page of a contract with the hand not supporting his head. He had yet to look up at you.
"Oh dear."
"I'll ask Beth to type up a new one tomorrow before the meeting. It wasn't worth raising my voice at him. I...I just had a long day and...of course, that doesn't excuse anything. Is he okay?"
"He'll be alright," you said soothingly as you placed your hand on Willy's arm. "He's calming down in his room. Like you said, he was startled. You are usually the fun one, not the disciplinarian."
"I should go to him," Willy said as he stood from the chair. You returned to your previous task of hanging out the laundry so they could have some time alone to make amends.
Willy walked to Ben's room and gently knocked before pushing the door open. Ben looked up at him from his desk with big sad eyes.
"Hey there," Willy said softly.
"I dwew you another picture. I'm sowwy, Papa," Ben said pitifully as he handed Willy a piece of paper.
"Oh, Bean. Is this the factory?" Ben nodded excitedly. "Wow, such great detail! Is this what you wanted to draw earlier?" Ben nodded again, with less exuberance this time. Willy's heart broke as he saw his son's face fall.
"Hey, buddy. I'm sorry for raising my voice and scaring you. That was a very important paper you were drawing on, and I needed you to stop."
"I know, Mamma told me I need to ask first," he responded dejectedly. "I just had a picture in my head that I wanted to dwaw when I was by your desk."
"Ah, that I understand. Sometimes my ideas don't come to me at convenient times, either. Tell you what. How about I set up a drawer with paper that's safe to draw or write on whenever an idea strikes. You never have to ask for permission as long as it's from that drawer. Deal?"
Ben's face lit up again, and he stuck his tiny right hand to shake. "Deal!"
Willy shook his son's hand with his right and looked down again at the picture in his left. It was incredibly well done for Ben's age.
"Can I take this to the factory with me? I want to frame and hang it. If you draw more, I'll have a whole gallery wall of Benjamin Wonka works."
Ben giggled, "Okay, Papa!"
<><><><><>
Over time, Ben's art skills matured to charcoals, watercolors, canvases, and paints. Willy spotted the talent early and took great pleasure in encouraging it, supplying it. Fourteen years later, he had indeed collected enough of Ben's work to fill multiple walls.
"People need to see this."
Willy decided to surprise Ben by converting one of his shops into a limited time art gallery for his 17th birthday. He somehow managed to promote what ended up being the town's social event of the season while also keeping it a secret from his boy.
It was finally the night of the big reveal. "Papa, why are we going to the shop so late? I thought we were going to meet Mamma and Charlie for dinner?" Ben walked shoulder to shoulder with Willy. They were nearly the same height now.
Willy was vibrating with excitement. "I just need to pick up something I left there," he bent the truth slightly. "Your birthday present."
When they arrived, Willy unlocked the doors to reveal a magenta velvet curtain blocking the entry. He took the gold pull cord in his hand and handed it to Ben.
Ben looked at the tassel in his hand, bewildered. "What is this?"
"Your gift! Pull it and find out." As Ben pulled the cord, the curtain drew back to reveal...
"Surprise!!"
Ben stood there with his mouth ajar as he looked around at you, Charlotte, Noodle, his friends and girlfriend. Everyone rushed him for a celebratory hug. He gave you a kiss on the cheek. Then, the background details caught his eye. The crowd separated as Ben made his way to look at the walls that were now decorated with his paintings rather than shelves of candies and chocolates.
He browsed in awe until he stopped at the penciled sketch of the Wonka factory, gently tracing the golden frame with his fingers. He felt Willy step up beside him and gently squeeze his shoulder.
"Happy birthday, Bean."
Ben looked over his shoulder to reveal misty eyes. "Thanks for always being my biggest fan, Papa," he said reverently.
"I'm glad I could be right here beside you when your talent is shared with the world."
<><><><><>
A/N: I think it's safe to say that Willy would be his kids' biggest cheerleaders.
<><><><><>
Masterlist
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sirfrogsworth · 1 year
Text
The Babylon Bee School of Comedy
Have you ever wanted to make Elon Musk reply to you with a double cry laughing emoji?
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If you crave that sweet billionaire validation you need only follow this carefully crafted conservative comedy content creation course for that powerhouse of online satire... The Babylon Bee.
Soon you too could be bootlicking billionaire balls with the rest of The BBee writers.
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Are you ready to get your learn on?
Let us Bee-gin.
The number one most important rule that all The BBee writers must internalize to their core...
Conservative comedy abhors effort.
Brainstorming for hours on end to craft the perfect premise and punchline... is for the Libs. Check out this Facebook meme that got 10,000 likes.
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Can you order Starbucks from a bar? Doesn't matter, it's a snowflake drink for a snowflake Lib.
Does this joke not have an actual punchline? Doesn't matter, get lost you stupid Lib!
Is this technically a joke by definition? Doesn't matter, if you believe it is a joke, then it's a joke! Just like modern currency.
If you put too much thought into a joke, it might grow in complexity. That could be confusing! The death knell of any conservative joke are the words, "Hmm, that's a thinker."
This brings us to rule number two...
NO THINKERS!
Let's take this Ben Garrison comic as an example.
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Spell everything out! Label everything! Don't leave anything to the imagination! If your audience has to figure something out or draw their own conclusions, what fun is that?
Conservatives want to hear things that are familiar. They want their beliefs parroted back at them. You must regurgitate those beliefs and then just make it *sound* like a joke. Don't break new ground or introduce new ideas. Don't get all caught up in interesting wordplay or clever puns or subverting expectations.
All expectations should be fully verted.
That is definitely a word because I saw someone use it on Facebook. End of research.
Here is a helpful tip. If you can't imagine the joke coming out of the mouth of late night comedy genius GUTFELD!, then you need to dial it back a bit. Do not surpass GUTFELD! levels of humor. GUTFELD! is your touchstone.
youtube
Oh, GUTFELD! I laughed so hard I FELD it in my GUT.
See, I went too far with my fancy pun. That is not the GUTFELD! way.
But what happens if inspiration is fleeting and you can't pay attention to your comedy writing task because you don't believe ADHD is real and thus you are unmedicated?
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Don't you worry. If you do happen to get writer's block or are distracted by a funny Pepe meme or a shiny object, just call your racist uncle and say the magic word... "Bidenflation."
As the ensuing unhinged rant darts from subject to subject without any kind of connecting theme, just start writing down every right wing buzzword you hear. Then just insert those buzzwords Mad Libs-style into a derivative joke format.
Let's practice!
Ex. 1: Why did the PRONOUNS cross the BORDER? To get to the DRAG QUEEN STORY HOUR!
Ex. 2: How many GENDERS does it take to GROOM a lightbulb? Two! One to hold the BUTT PLUG and one to GO WOKE, GO BROKE.
Great start! I'm sure with a polishing pass those will make more sense. Or not. The bar is pretty much "will it get clicks?" so we're not too worried about coherence.
Heh... Mad Libs.
U MAD, LIBS?
Get it? Cuz Libs are always mad? About the normalized bigotry and whatnot.
Jokes are always better when you need to explain them.
Oh! That's another rule. Write that down. Wisdom like this is why I am teaching this course, of course. Hah, that's like that horse show song. I got jokes coming out the wazoo. Wazoo is my butt, right? Siri, is wazoo a butt? Oof, I'm kinda spacing on what the next lesson is.
I really wish Matt Walsh hadn't flushed my Adderall down the crapper.
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Can I get a second opinion? Top Gun was so good. What does Tom Cruise think about ADHD? He always has good takes on stuff like this. Did I leave my oven on? Shazam, what song goes doodoo doo doo doooooo? Can you vacuum a yard? Has anyone tried that? That sounds more like a marijuana thought than an ADHD tangent. I should double check the THC content of that cotton candy vape juice.
I'm flyin' off the rails over here.
Matt, are you super duper sure it's not real?
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Okay, fine. I'm an "energetic boy."
I hope whichever fish absorbs my meds is extra focused on whatever fish shit he needs to get done.
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COMEDY WRITING!
Sometimes it is best to learn through observation. Let's eavesdrop on an actual The BBee writer's room to see how the sausage is made...
"So what did your racist uncle have to say?"
"Well, first he texted me a cameraphone picture of Trump as an astronaut that he wants me to print out cuz he doesn't know what a crypto wallet is... but then he said all the woke schools are turning kids into a bunch of gay commies."
"EUREKA!"
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Classic! The BBee writers strike again. I mean, they aren't striking. There is no commie clamoring for a union at The Babylon Bee. That's for damn sure. FOCUS!
Do you get the joke though? With the kids and the gay and the communism?
Because all of those woke schools totally cover complex economic theories in 4th grade and all it takes to turn gay is a little persuasion from a teacher with green hair. Libs of TikTok wouldn't lie about that. End of research.
Look at this public school teacher!
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I mean, you knooow she has a litter box in her classroom. I can just sense it. End of research.
Sure... it is just a context-free picture of a person with green hair in front of a flag and you cannot actually judge the quality of their teaching ability from this. But yoouuu knoooooow she is skipping right over grammar lessons and giving detailed instructions on how to turn gay.
Step 1: Look at a bunch of butts. Step 2: Touch a bunch of butts. Step 3: Gay sex a bunch of butts.
(Replace butts with cooches for lesbians.)
Grooming accomplished.
And you definitely shouldn't look up that green-hair'd, nose ring'd educator and research her any further. Extensive research is for the Libs, bro. Because you definitely don't want to discover she is a passionate high school English teacher who makes fun content on TikTok in the hopes that people will buy things off her wishlist so her students will have a better learning experience. I mean, caring about her students? That's so gay.
YoooOOOuuuUUU knnnooooooOOOw she is a bad teacher because she has green hair and a flag. End. Of. Research.
So... you have your gay communist headline that is perfect to get all of those sweet conservative clicks. But you still have a full webpage to fill out with more words and stuff.
Now I want to see if you learned anything from my perfectly focused and informative teachings. I want you to write some jokes about kids becoming gay communists.
Ready? GO!
Joke #1 Little Billy has wealthy parents so all the students will share his cookie at snack time.
Joke #2 At the beginning of the day, students pick a new gender out of a hat but all the kids fight over Attack Helicopter.
Joke #3 At lunch, the students have to stand in a peanut butter and jelly bread line.
Joke #4 The teacher makes the kids take turns combing each others' hair for a grooming session.
Wait a sec... are those... THINKERS?
No no no no no! You made my brain all confused and thinky!
You need to calm down, you overachieving silly billy. You forgot the first rule... NO EFFORT.
Just make the same joke over and over again with slightly different wording. EASY!
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Remember the classic final rule of comedy...
Jokes always get funnier the more you repeat them.
Anyway, that's probably enough... joke.
Now let's close this article out!
Maybe we can drop the pretense this is comedic satire and just do some hardcore pandering. Gotta own the Libs, amirite?
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Gender theory and drag queens and guns, oh my! That is pure pander-monium.
Just shove those factless tactless Tucker talking points straight down their gullet. They'll forget this was supposed to be funny and shake their fist in the air with exaltation. And it's definitely a great idea to put the thought of gunning down drag queens in their heads. That won't backfire in any way!
Congratulations! You are now ready to "write" for The Babylon Bee.
Please purchase this official Trump NFT certificate for $99 that acknowledges that you have completed this course and have a very poor understanding of what satire actually is.
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End of research.
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fbfh · 7 months
Text
curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 6
wc: 2.8k
genre: slowburn, best friends to lovers, painful tooth rotting fluff
pairing: Audrey x Ben, eventual Ben x daughter of alice!reader
warnings: ben's deeply repressed feelings looming ominously in the distance, audrey being an absolute bitch but what's new, op fixing the lore with nail glue and packing tape, Evie is a fucking icon as always
summary: After a long day fighting your way through a mountain of paperwork, you find yourself unable to sleep. Sneaking into ben's room always does the trick. Mal can't find a love spell in her spell book, but she finds something that should work almost as well.
song recs: spring fever - sub urban
a/n: the one thing that pisses me off is that there is no canonical use of love spells in the disney universe outside of descendants. they literally don't exist. genie says no making someone fall in love with someone else. you'd think they would know their own lore /lh
anyway fangz to cici as always (i am so sorry about buggy) and also as always, an optional fit for your viewing pleasure
tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @sunshineangel-reads @strawberry-cake1 @dustyinkpages @kiara7777
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You spend the next several hours by Ben’s side as you bounce between various meetings, and of course, your etiquette lessons that you’ve been attending since you were no older than a twizzleroot blossom.  They're not really etiquette lessons, not anymore. They were when you were young, you would attend a few times a week with all the other kids your age. You’d learn how to drink tea, how to write thank you notes, and all the other things you need to know to feel comfortable in royal high society settings. By the end of middle school, most of your peers were no longer in attendance. 
You and Ben, however, used the opportunity to learn about more and more of the nuanced aspects of politics, social graces, and media training. Your parents were both glad for this, and since you seemed on track to be real politicians and not just socialites, it was a perfect fit. However, saying that you have to go to your class for advanced political studies, world history, social graces, and media training is a little too clunky for your taste. You and Ben never grew out of calling them etiquette lessons, so the name stuck to this day.
On this day in particular, you now find yourself sitting next to Ben at a large table in one of the many makeshift conference rooms on campus. You’ve been in and out of meetings and lessons and debriefings about the Isle kids’ arrival, and now you’ve finally made it nearly to the end of your to do list. Ben insisted you didn’t need to stay late with him to do all this paperwork, but you insisted equally as much that you wouldn’t dream of leaving him to do it all himself. Now as Ben skims the monotonous text, signing on lines and initialing boxes, you dig through a seemingly endless database of forms, trying to find the right one. 
You bounce increasingly obscure form titles back and forth for a few minutes. After coming up with nothing, Ben lets out an amiable laugh. He should have expected something that seems straightforward would take at least ten times as long as it should. That’s government for you, that’s what his dad would say. A knock at the door draws both your attention, and Jane pokes her head in awkwardly. She tucks a section of her dark blunt bob behind her ear, then speaks nervously. 
“Uh, hi. My mom sent me,” she says in a quiet, hesitant voice. “She said she’s going to be about half an hour late. There was a problem with some ducks in the forest, or something?” 
Ben smiles at her politely.
“Thanks, Jane.” Ben says politely. Jane nods and leaves quickly, fussing with her short hair. You let out a puff of air from between your lips.
“Even more delays…” you murmur, clicking onto page 23 out of 66 of forms to look through. “How fun.”
Ben chuckles, agreeing as he stands up to stretch his legs. He walks around for a moment, and turns on an extra lamp. It’s starting to get dark out, and the last thing either of you need right now is eye strain. Wait, it’s already getting dark out? He stops in his tracks.
“Shit.” He mutters, reaching for his phone on the table. He completely forgot about dinner with Audrey, but he has to find these forms and get them filled out tonight. You try not to look like you're listening too closely as the phone rings, but Audrey’s voice is quite hard to ignore. Before he can greet her, she’s already demanding to know where he is and why he’s late.
“No, no. I- I didn’t forget. I… well… uh, no. It’s-” Ben rambles around Audrey’s interjections. He gets up, pacing around a little, and walking across the room away from you. He doesn’t want you to have to hear this. 
“We’re just running behind. No- No! I would never intentionally… stand you up… I-” 
“Right!” Audrey snaps on the other end, forcing a smile. “Well then. Maybe we should just cancel!” 
“Wh- uh, okay. I- I’ll make it up to you. We can… uh, later this week? We’ll - before the next tourney meet? I…” 
Ben sighs and pulls his phone away, looking at the screen. Call ended. He walks back over to the table, sitting down to continue trudging through the task at hand. You wordlessly slide a teacup over toward him, the colorful porcelain filled with warm chai, perfectly sweetened. He cracks a smile, and accepts the cup. 
“Thanks, bunny.” He says quietly. You hum warmly in response. You settle back into your comfortable silence, trudging through forms and digging through documents. As you sit across from each other, the pile of completed paperwork steadily grows taller. Hours pass, and you don’t realize how late it is until you’re finally ready to call it quits for tonight. You stumble through your bedtime routine, grateful that you have your muscle memory to carry you through. As soon as your head hits your soft pillow… nothing happens. You toss and turn for a few minutes, trying to get comfortable, then let out an irritated sigh. You managed to get through such a long day and mountains of paperwork, and you still can’t sleep. 
In the opposite wing of the dorms, Ben has no trouble winding down. He’s cozy in his silky royal blue and daffodil yellow sheets, and he’s satisfied with a long day of hard, productive work. He lets out a soft breath, feeling himself teetering on the brink of sleep. Then he hears his door creak open. Soft, muffled footsteps creep across the wood floor, then grow silent as they meet the expansive carpet covering the majority of the floor. He doesn’t move, doesn’t open his eyes, but he can feel someone crouching next to his bed. 
“...Ben?”
He cracks a smile at the sound of your voice, how quiet and tiny you sound in the lateness of the night. You smile a little too when you see him fighting a little grin. After a moment, he answers. 
“Yes bunny?”
“Are you asleep?” You ask carefully. You wait in the darkness for him to answer. 
“Yes.” 
You smile at his sarcastic response, letting out a little breathy giggle through your nose. You kick off your bunny slippers - complete with little tophats - and crawl into bed next to Ben. He’s already scooching over and lifting up the blankets for you, pulling them over your shoulders the way he knows you like. 
He doesn’t need to ask if you couldn’t sleep, he already knows you couldn’t. You’ve been doing this, sneaking in for sleepovers when insomnia gets the best of you, for as long as he can remember. Something about his presence comforts you, relaxes you through even the longest, most never ending nights. No matter how tired he is, he’s always happy to be there for you on nights like tonight, he’s always happy to keep you warm and talk you to sleep. 
And that’s just what he does. He lets you lead the conversation, rambling about whatever springs to mind, emptying out your brain so you can rest. He’d like to think he knows you pretty well by now. He knows just what to do to help you settle down, to give you the best chance of having a restful night. It’s no surprise to him that you mostly seem to be thinking about the Isle kids. 
“I mean, this is real. Our actions mean they get a chance at a better life.” You mutter drowsily. Your cheek is squished against his pillow and your words are heavy with fatigue. Ben can’t help but think it makes your Wonderland accent that much… cuter. 
“Yeah,” He agrees. He traces his hand along your back soothingly. He glances down and notices you’re wearing the white button down shirt you sometimes wear as a pajama top. He asked you about it once, and you said it made you think of him. He smiles a little as he settles back into his pillows.
“I just hope they’ll be able to assimilate well.” You say, a tone of worry now present in your words. “The only thing worse than doing nothing would be having their decisions made for them because of social pressure…” 
“We’ll keep a close eye out for that.” Ben says. His voice is husky and drowsy. It fills you with warmth, with an appreciation for him and the way he stays up with you even though you know how tired he must be. You nod a little, then find yourself rambling again. 
“I just wish there was a way to guarantee that they felt welcome and not… ostracized.” You mumble. You inch closer to him, snuggling into his warm chest and listening to his soothing heartbeat. It speeds up almost imperceptibly as you do.
“Make sure they know that we know them as people. As individuals, and not just…” You continue, cutting yourself off with a yawn. You stretch a little as you do, then curl back up. Ben looks down at you, smiling a little at how sweet you are, at how clingy you get when you’re sleepy. 
“As the children of their parents…” You finish. Ben hums in agreement. He notices how heavy your eyes are getting, how your speech is slowing, how the flow of your thoughts have gone from a fully blasting garden hose to a subtly dripping kitchen sink. You’re about to fall asleep, which means he can let himself sleep too. He couldn’t have gone to bed before now if he wanted to. If he knows you can’t sleep, he won’t be able to either. But feeling your soft breaths across his skin, feeling the way your chest rises and falls as his hand lays comfortingly on your side, knowing that you’re warm and safe here, with him… Ben feels more relaxed than he has in a long time. Probably since… the last time you couldn’t sleep. 
Sometimes when it’s just the two of you like this, all drowsy and late at night, in the moments before he falls asleep, Ben sometimes gets… weird thoughts. Weird, random, impulsive thoughts that are not at all like him. Totally out of left field stuff, like… wanting to kiss you. Like, really, really wanting to kiss you. Sometimes that turns into wanting to hold you, too. And not like this, not holding you platonically, like a best friend, but… holding you a different way. Maybe wanting to hold you tight in his arms, and lay you down in his big, silky bed, and… 
Ben squeezes his eyes shut tight for a moment before relaxing his face. He puts a manual stop to that train of thought, absolutely refusing to let it continue anymore. He won’t entertain it, he won’t let it heat up his cheeks anymore. He doesn’t like thinking things like that about anyone, and he certainly won’t let himself think anything like that about you. He sighs softly. These crazy thoughts will be gone by the morning. They always are. They have to be. 
Besides, it’s so late, he won’t even remember this by the time he wakes up. That’s what he always tells himself. The last thing he would never admit to anyone - not even to himself - surfaces right before he falls asleep. It must be the late hour, where everything vulnerable feels completely abstract and intangible, but he thinks it’s a lot easier to stop himself from thinking those things about Audrey than it is to stop thinking those things about you. 
While you and Ben drift off to sleep, safe and sound in each other’s arms, someone else is wide awake. Sitting in the dorm she shares with Evie, Mal sits on her bed, scouring her spell book exactly like she’s been doing since Ben left earlier that afternoon. After hours of hitting brick wall after brick wall, Mal is met with the back cover of the book. Again. She lets out a frustrated noise, and flips back to the beginning.
“There’s not a single love spell in this whole fucking book!” She exclaims. She looks over the first few pages, reading them more closely in hopes that she somehow missed something. Evie sits across the room in front of a lit up mirror, plucking meticulously at her eyebrows. 
“Are we…” She winces, then inspects her skin and eyebrows again. “Are we sure we need a love spell?” 
Mal rolls her eyes at the question. Yes, obviously they need a love spell. Evie is oblivious to her irritation, and continues thinking out loud around her careful use of the sharp tweezers in her hand. 
“I could… just work my charm on him. All it would take is one look into my…” Another wince. “Hypnotizing eyes, and he’d be wrapped around my finger.”
She leans back, taking a final look at her work, more satisfied with her appearance now. 
“I mean, he’s not really my type, but…” she shrugs, and looks at Mal, waiting for some kind of reaction from her. Mal doesn’t look up at Evie’s eyebrows, she just keeps digging through her book and ignoring the sound of Carlos and Jay playing videogames.
“No, we need a spell. This has to work. It has to be foolproof.” 
Evie grabs a jade roller and some hydrating gel. She still can’t believe how amazing the makeup and the skincare in Auradon is. She hasn’t seen one half wilted aloe plant, and this gel is infused with roses from Aurora’s moors, glacier water from Arendelle, and caviar fished from the Caribbean. She can’t wait to get her hands on a decent blush, and a lip liner that doesn’t double as eyeliner and an eyebrow pencil. 
Evie notices the scowl on Mal’s face as she hunches over the spell book. Normally she would scold Mal for making faces that will give her wrinkles, but now that she has her hands on retinol, hyaluronic acid, and hydrocolloid patches, she can fix any stress wrinkles Mal brings upon herself. After what feels like an eternity of searching the same pages over and over, something catches Mal’s eye, causing her to stop in her tracks. It’s more of her mothers rambling annotations and scrawled notes, this time on the topic of hypnosis. 
Hypnosis can be useful as long as you’re stealthy with it. Jafar got sloppy, he kept hypnotizing that stupid sultan over and over, not bothering to use hypnosis for it’s true purpose - a means to an end. If you’re an evil genius like I am, and you use hypnosis sparingly, no one will be the wiser. Don’t get me started on that oversized calamari - Ursula has to be the best example of what not to do when you’re hypnotizing a bonehead prince to make him think he’s in love with you. Something as easily breakable as a necklace? Please. Besides, everyone knows the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. 
Her mother’s scratchy handwriting goes on for a while, some anecdote about her and Mal’s father, something she’d rather not read. Ever. She thinks back to what Evie said about wrapping Ben around her finger, and in one desperately needed moment of clarity, everything falls into place. A plan begins to form in her mind. 
“This… this could work.” She says. Those three, quietly spoken words get the attention of everyone in the room. Evie sets down her gua sha stone, and Carlos pauses their videogame. They all walk over, hesitant and eager to hear what Mal figured out. Mal lets out a laugh of disbelief. It seems so simple now, she wonders why she didn’t think of it sooner. She can just hypnotize Ben into falling in love with her. She can trick him into thinking that he loves Mal more than he’s ever loved Audrey, then - boom! Front row seats to coronation, which means front row seats to stealing the wand out from under their noses. 
While Mal silently hashes out the details so she can tell her friends, Evie inspects her cuticles. She really should push them back. She stands up, grabbing a cuticle pusher and an orange wood stick from her pencil cup before making her way back over to Mal’s bed. As the three of them wait with bated breath, Mal looks over the hypnosis spell again and again. After a few moments, she tucks a piece of paper between the pages, marking her spell to reference later. She slams the book shut, and looks up at her friends.
“Come on guys. Let’s go bake some cookies.”
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[ID: 11 doodles of Umbrella Academy characters in a style imitating the webcomic Paranatural. Allison, Luther, Diego, Klaus, Viktor, and Lila are drawn as kids, approximately 12 yrs old. Ben is a similarly aged ghost. Hazel, Cha Cha, and the Handler are present as well, all looking vaguely villainous. Five is drawn to be maybe in his twenties. All of them have colorful smoke rising from them indicating the powers from Paranatural, except for Viktor and Lila, for whom the smoke is white. End ID.]
Look, a Paranatural au! I wish I had been hit by this muse in time for Masked Author/Artist, but alas it was not to be. If you've read Paranatural is you can probably guess.... basically everything there is to know about this au. If you haven't read Parantural, you should!! It's a wild ride! But also I rambled for a super long time about it under the cut
Everyone has cool spirit powers and can see the dead, so Klaus isn't special sorry Klaus. I'm making up for it by making him directly possessed by a spirit that gives him superpowers, instead of everyone else who has to use a possessed object to get superpowers. I didn't put a ton of thought into what Cool Accessory (possessed object) to give the kids so I could change that later, but for now Allison has a megaphone, Diego has a yo-yo, Viktor has his violin, and Luther doesn't have anything because his dad thinks he needs to learn to control spirit energy on his own. Klaus doesn't have any either because he's possessed directly. I adjusted the rules of Parantural slightly because [Paranatural spoilers!!] in the comic someone with white energy can connect with spirits whose energy is any color. Viktor's should absolutely be white by show rules, but that power set suits Lila a lot better. So in this au, the rules are adjusted so that white can only connect with white, and Lila's is actually colorless (IE, it only looks white now because the background is white). She can't bond with any one spirit for long, but she can bond with any of them for a short time.
Hazel, Cha Cha, Five kind of, and the Handler are all members of a version of Paranatural's Consortium, which I'm just going to call the Commission again because why not. As you may be able to guess, it's slightly more villainous in this au than the Consortium. I wanted AJ to be a high ranking member, but if I made him the Handler's spirit then we wouldn't get to see him ever, so I made him Five's. This was before I remembered that people possessed by spirits look more and more like their spirit over time so the fish head thing could still totally work, so I might revisit that. Hazel and Cha Cha's spirits look like thier masks, of course. I didn't spend much time on the mask/spirit redesign so they're not as fun and funky as I'd like, but they're still reasonable stand-ins. The Handler is this version of the Boss Leader because.... duh. If you've been keeping up with Parantural and are wondering about how That One Thing About Boss Leader translates... I haven't decided yet.
Five is the Mr. Spender of this au. He is possibly the least Mr. Spender-like character to ever exist, but look me in the eyes and tell me that acting as the teacher-supervisor of a club of unruly kids that can see ghosts who is secretly part of a nefarious (?) organization is not where he belongs.
I have a few more doodles of this waiting in the wings! Mostly of Five because I love him. But also if you have stuff you want to see, send it in. No promises I'll draw your suggestion, but the main obstacle between me and drawing more of this is not having concrete ideas for situations to put characters in
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Kaiju Weeks in Review (September 10-30, 2023)
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I adore Godzilla Final Wars, but it's a movie with an identity crisis, unsure whether it wants to be headlining a Toho Champion Festival or mesmerizing American teenagers at a mid-aughts multiplex. @spacehunter-m's Final Wars 2004: The Year We Make Corn-Tack gives it a strong tug in the first direction, whittling the runtime down to 77 minutes and replacing most of the music and sound effects. She was inspired by Space Warriors 2000, of all things; as she put it, both films are "largely comprised of nonstop, monotonous action." As in that bizarro Ultraman compilation film, the kaiju trash-talk each other. It makes you wonder why Ryuhei Kitamura didn't at least bring back the speech bubbles from Godzilla vs. Gigan. Kaiju fan edits are rare, and this is in a class all by itself. Download it here.
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Shigeru Kayama's novelizations of Godzilla (1954) and Godzilla Raids Again are out—hopefully the first of many to come. My copy only arrived on Saturday, so I haven't had the chance to read the whole thing yet, but I've made it through Godzilla. It's interesting to see Kayama, who wrote the initial treatment, take another swing at the story after the film was finished. He puts back moments like Godzilla eating a cow and attacking a lighthouse, and is also more overt with the wartime allusions. There's an incredible moment where Dr. Yamane muses that studying Godzilla and learning his secrets could be Japan's way of redeeming itself after "caus[ing] a great deal of trouble to people throughout the world." Note that these are novella-length, so much less in-depth than the novelizations of American Godzilla films you might be used to (Godzilla Raids Again is less than 80 pages). The book ends with an afterword by translator Jeffrey Angles contextualizing the tales.
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Godzilla: War for Humanity continues to be a standout IDW miniseries. There's a new and very weird monster in the second issue, plus a no-nonsense Mothra (she tries to recruit Godzilla to fight Zoospora by shooting him in the back of the head and dragging him into the ocean in front of Minilla).
I've also got to mention the solicitation for another Godzilla Rivals installment, due December 20. Nola Pfau is writing, Megan Huang is illustrating.
Jen Onça is not excited to start her new, fast-paced fast-food career at Minilla Burger, but she'd much prefer a mundane day to the sudden return of Megalon! The monster brings destruction, trapping Jen in a forgotten lab deep beneath the restaurant with only the half-built form of Jet Jaguar to help her get out! She must repair the robotic defender to save herself and the city, but first she needs to escape the rubble trapping her in this tense adventure!
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Yuzo the Biggest Battle in Tokyo, Yoshikazu Ishii's follow-up to Attack of the Giant Teacher, has also been picked up by SRS Cinema. No release details yet. I can't really speak to the film either, since it screened at the same time as Yumiko Shaku's panel at G-Fest, but as you can see from the poster, it's set during the pandemic.
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The GAMERA -Rebirth- Gyaos has joined Godzilla Battle Line as an unusual sort of swarm unit. Your first summon of the match calls forth two sub-adults, and by the fifth summon you're sending out two sub-adults and three adults, still for four energy. They're probably the best swarm in the game, though still highly vulnerable to AOE units like Godzilla '01. I'm having fun with them in the Challenge Battles.
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Notzilla, one of the sharpest kaiju comedies out there, is unexpectedly getting the graphic novel treatment. Mitch Teemley is adapting his own screenplay, with art by Zumart Putra. The comic is already finished, although I'm not clear on how folks who didn't back the Kickstarter (which wrapped on September 11) will get it. Useless trivia: the terrific cover above (one of four) is by Ben Dunn, who wrote the How to Draw Manga book I poured over in middle school.
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After Troll shattered Netflix streaming records (according to Netflix), it's not super surprising that the company wants a sequel. Priority one: coming up with a title that's not Troll 2. Screenwriter Espen Aukan and director Roar Uthaug will both return.
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Toy highlights of the past few weeks:
After confusing everyone by teasing its silhouette the day before April Fools', Tamashii has fully unveiled an S.H.Monsterarts Godzilla '72, a rare Showa figure from the line. It comes with two heads, one of them bloodied (see above). Due at the end of February.
After finally running out of ways to repaint their mold of Hedorah's Perfect Stage, Bandai is making a Movie Monster Series figure of the kaiju's Landing Stage. A Godzilla Store exclusive, it'll be released October 25.
After over two years, Funko is releasing a trio of Godzilla Singular Point Pops. Hopefully they go all-out with this show—it's not like there's any other plausible way for a Satomi Kanahara figure to exist.
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Laigan oneshot
(I’m just having fun with these ship names now)
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Ashlyn stepped to the front and clapped her hands. “Ok, so.. my parents have been saying that in order for us to survive, we need to work as a.. team.”
Taylor tilted her head. “Don’t we already?”
“Apparently bonds formed only from trauma aren’t strong enough.”
This seemed to blow everyone’s minds as they all said, “They aren’t?”
Ashlyn shook her head. “No.. so, I’ve decided we are going to split into teams of two by having three people draw one name from a hat.” 
Ashlyn turned and picked up a baseball cap filled with torn papers. 
“So, who will be drawing names?”
Taylor, Aiden, and Ben all rose their hands. 
Aiden jumped from the bus seat bounded forward excitedly as he drew out a name. 
“Let’s see.. LOGAN!”
Logan damn near fell out of his seat as he exclaimed, “HUH?!”
Aiden plopped himself right next to Logan and Logan tried to make himself as small as possible in his seat. 
Why did it have to be Aiden?
Logan would’ve taken Ashlyn, or Ben, or Taylor, or even Tyler’s aggressive attitude!
He slowly turned to face him and give him a friendly smile. 
Aiden smiled back and Logan felt his blood run cold and he quickly turned away again. 
Why is he so creepy?! he thought anxiously. 
“So, uh, Ashlyn!” Logan blurted out. “What sort of team building exercises are we going to do?” 
“Well.. my dad said that in his time in the military, the best way to form bonds is helping each other in life or death situations, and having heart to heart conversations. And, well, we already have the first one down.”
Everyone looked a little confused. “How are we supposed to have those just.. casually?” Tyler asked as he sat next to Ben. 
“I don’t know!” Ashlyn exclaimed. “That’s just what he said!”
Everyone looked awkwardly at their partner. Well, except Aiden. Logan was pretty sure it was impossible for Aiden to feel awkward. 
“So, um.. Aiden.. you like.. dangerous stuff?” Logan asked, trying his hardest to keep himself from freaking out. 
“Ya! Haha, one time I jumped off a ski lift. The way my ankle snapped was so weird, but also funny, haha!”
“Oh, um.. ya.. haha..” Is he purposefully trying to freak me out?! What the hell?! Someone help me!!! “Um.. well.. one time I was on a hike with my family with our dog and he ate some oleanders.. that was pretty messed.. haha..”
“Oleanders?” Aiden asked, suddenly seeming genuinely interested. 
“Oh.. um.. they’re these really toxic flowers. They can cause irregular heartbeats. And seizures. My dog had a really, really bad seizure after eating it. He just kind of.. flopped around before he dropped dead.. haha..”
Aiden’s eyes widened and he cleared his throat after a moment. “Descriptive..”
“Huh? Oh! Uh, I’m sorry! I, um.. I didn’t really think about it!”
“Ha, it’s fine, man, don’t worry about it!” Aiden said, wrapping his arm around Logan’s shoulder. “You got any more stories to tell?”
“Oh.. uh.. oh! So, my aunt works at a hospital and one time she was babysitting me and I had to go to her work. And this patient had burst into the hospital, vomiting everywhere and passing out. He had eaten a death cap!”
“A death cap?! That sounds so cool, what is that!”
Logan wasn’t even aware of the proximity of them, or the fact that he was talking to Aiden. He was just excited to talk about things that interest him. 
“They’re these very poisonous mushrooms. They cause nausea, low blood pressure, and vomiting. The mortality rate for eating them is at 30%!”
Aiden seemed a little let down by that number. “30%? Really? What’s the most poisonous mushroom, then?”
“Oh, um.. the death caps are..”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s it? Man, that’s just so low..”
“You.. want more people to die??”
“Well, no. But it just makes it more interesting, doesn’t it? Kind of like the same morbid interest of watching true crime..”
“I guess I understand?”
There was a moment of silence between them. 
“Do you know all these plant facts because your grandparents are florists?” Aiden asks. 
“Oh, ya..”
Aiden smirks. “Kind of like how they got us access to drugs?”
Logan’s shoulders jerk up and he quickly gets defensive. “H-hold on, it’s not what you think! They were just able to get the drugs because they have poppy flowers which are used to make opioids! N-NOT THAT THEY MAKE OPIOIDS OFTEN, OR EVER!”
Aiden burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he fell out of his seat. “Oh! Oh my gosh! Your face! Haha!!”
Logan’s face went red and everyone turned to look at them, curious. 
“Ummm, A-Aiden.. it wasn’t that funny.. haaaa..” He grabbed Aiden’s arm and pulled him back into the seat. “Quit being so loud!” he said quickly, his face bright red. 
“You quit being so embarrassed all the time!” Aiden countered. 
“I-! Ughh.. Aiden..” he whimpered, covering his face. 
“Pfff.. cmon, Logan. Keep rattling on random facts about deadly plants!”
He still seemed hesitant before saying, “Have you heard about the Sandbox tree?”
“Oh? No, I haven’t!”
Logan smiled, knowing this would be right up Aiden’s alley. “Their seeds.. explode!”
Aiden gasped. “No way!”
“Ya!”
“How dangerous is it?”
“Pretty dangerous. It can severely hurt humans. Not to mention that it’s poisonous all over.”
Aiden burst out laughing and pat Logan’s back. “You know what I like!”
Logan laughed along with him as he rattled off more plant facts. Eventually plant facts moved facts about how deadly space is. 
“They actually have no idea how black holes function?! Movies lied to me!” 
Logan snickered and nodded. “Same here!”
“What do you think happens? When you enter a black hole?”
“Hmm..” Logan thought for a moment before saying. 
“You’re lost in a void. There’s no up, there’s no down. There’s no escape. Only fear and loneliness and existentialism as you stay there forever. Your cells won’t age or change.. so for eternity, you’re stuck there, never able to achieve freedom…”
He looked up at Aiden, who seemed very, very surprised. 
“O-OR, UM… maybe you just come out on the other side! I-I dunno, haha!”
Aiden chuckled and shook his head. “You have some pretty dark thoughts. Just different from my kind of dark. I like it, though.”
“Y..You do?”
“Ya! You should say more stuff like that. It’s really interesting!”
“I…”
“All right everyone!” Ashlyn exclaimed. “It’s getting late. Cmon, we don’t wanna fall asleep on the bus.”
Aiden stood up and held out a hand to Logan. “Cmon.”
Logan was surprised by Aiden’s genuine friendliness before smiling back at him and letting him help him up. 
“I think today was really a smart idea, Ashlyn,” Aiden said to her. 
Ashlyn nodded. “Glad to hear it. My dad will be proud of us, I think.”
Logan smiled at that. Proud of him…
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Kaishin Reveal and What It Means For You
Okay I need everyone to keep their shit together because I think this is being blown out of proportion. What follows is a quick rant about what the hell is going in the DCMK fandom and what is going on in fandom in general cause I don’t know why I’m seeing so many people lose their shit over something that was most likely going to happen followed by a quick lesson by a ‘fandom elder’ on how to ignore canon and make a ship your own. 
Spoilers ahead and whatnot. 
April 11th the DCMK 27 movie came out and information was revealed about how Kaito Kuroba and Shinichi Kudou are now cousins. Twitter lost its mind, Tumblr lost its mind, Discord servers are being created and now everyone is wondering what the hell should they do. 
I’m going to be honest, if you are a creator for KaiShin, please don’t delete your work. 
Either archive it or orphan it but please don’t delete it.
You put time and effort into this, into something you love, and just because the mangaka is so SO set in his ways of every single ship being friends to lovers does not mean you have to follow the same format. This doesn’t make you an incest shipper or whatever, it doesn’t make you a person who you don’t want to be, it’s just something that you had no idea of knowing was going to happen and I hope that you can look back at it fondly. 
Anyways, for those enjoying Kaishin on the sidelines all I’m going to say is Pick a Lane. 
Ignore Canon 
If you are an old time shipper then this may not be new for you. I mean Gosho literally had another ship that turned out to be cousins like at this point it’s ‘who is my cousin’ being played in the entire Detective Conan manga. You either already guessed it, are an active incest shipper (hi, hello, tis a me) or you are used to your favourites dying. This situation is no fucking different. 
Wolfwood is dead, in my head he is alive and well and treating his Plant husband right. 
Sora is missing, not in my head where he is kissing Roxas and Riku and Kairi and whoever else wants to get at the sunshine of the KH universe. 
Ben is dead, NOT IN MY REYLO FANFICTION. 
If you are a person who actively kept up with the manga or actively kept up with the show it is possible to ignore canon because they do not suddenly go super deep into being cousins and knowing about each other. They both don’t know if they are cousins or else the jig would be up immediately and the manga would be finished. You CAN ignore canon and if Kaishin is a ship that brings you joy and just serotonin production I implore you guys to choose this lane if you still want to enjoy Kaishin. 
It’s by far the healthiest option and teaches you how to curate your own fandom experience. 
Alternate Universes and You 
I was in the Hannibal fandom for a while and I clearly remember the ‘Hannibal is not a Cannibal’ tag on AO3. I thought it was hilarious but I would never dare to make fun of it because that is a prime example of CURATING YOUR FANDOM EXPERIENCE. 
Here are some examples on how you can start tagging: 
Not Cousins AU
Kaito and Shinichi aren’t family 
No Family Relation AU 
Pre Kaishin reveal 
Or just make a quick blurb of how you mean this drawing/fic to be perceived. Again, this is your experience and you get to make the space you want to make. It’s up to you to make/interact with the content that makes you most comfortable. Again, if you want to delve into AU’s then that is up to you and I think it’s a pretty good lane for those who just feel weird about the whole reveal. 
Stepping Away
Your moral values are your own, people, and I am in no position or even want to judge them. If you feel uncomfortable about this now, see your love for Kaishin diminishing because of the reveal or just don’t see yourself shipping Kaishin in the future then you are more than capable of measuring your response and stepping away from the ship entirely for your own health. 
Is it going to be sad? Yes, but they are fictional and I recommend having an idea of what you have in your life outside of fandom that makes you happy that you can focus on as you go through this. College, work, whatever hobbies you may have taken up–hell put all your eggs into another ship that you know also brings you joy! 
Do not let this dictate your day or your month or your year. This is just fandom, you don’t have to make a big statement unless asked about it, you do not have to justify your decision to anybody, curate.your.fandom.experience. 
I’m going to end this with a repeat of what I just said. 
This is all fictional. We are playing in a fictional sandbox where we can all make whatever we want in any capacity and as long as it is tagged correctly then nobody’s lines have to be crossed. If you just started enjoying Kaishin, find out how you still want to enjoy it or step away. If you have shipped Kaishin for a while, do the same fucking thing! The east side of the fandom is having a field day with the movie, why can’t the west have some fun too?! 
I’m going to ship Kaishin (however all my reblogs will be moved to my other blog for incest-y stuff and just other content people may not vibe with in general) and hell I might just join the Kaishin Big Bang for the hell of it because I have been shipping this ship since I was 15 years old and I’m about to be 30 so….I’m staying fucking seated cause you aren’t getting me out of this chair, Aoyama, you aren’t getting me to ship Aoko with anyone other an Akako so suck on that. 
Be safe, be smart and curate y’all.
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pasta-in-the-pudding · 9 months
Note
WAIT THE ROOM HCS WERE SO ACCURATE?! WE NEED MORE PLS 🙏
Oooh thank you! Like last time, i will be doing my next most popular creeps!
Thank you so much for requesting!!
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Homicidal Liu
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His room is on the second floor, and is the fourth door to your right
His door has fake vines on it, just to give it some ~spice~
His bed is on the left side of his room, its queen sized and he makes it every morning
He has light green bedsheets, pillows with white pillowcases, and a brown comforter
His room is a mix of cottagecore and dark academia
He doesnt have a nightstand, so he puts everything on his desk
Laptop, tablet, hairspray, medications, etc
He has a very big bookcase, where he stores all of his books, trinkets and plants
He has a lot of plants btw
Total plant guy
He picked up taking care of plants after reading that surrounding yourself with life can help with depression, and after a while he just enjoyed having plants
He has a lot of succulents bc those are his favorite, but he also has a lot of flowers, most of which, are kept on his window sill
He also likes candles, so his room and clothes typically smells very good
He likes candles that smell clean
Like fresh linen, cotton, daisies, etc
This being said, he usually smells the best
He has a tv mounted on his wall in front of his bed, but he doesn't use it much because he usually spends his time reading
He also has a 3ds, which he usually carries with him for when he gets bored on missions
His favorite game to play is cooking mama
He has fairy lights strung across his ceiling, jeff makes fun of him for it but he refuses to take them down
He doesnt have many stuffed animals, as that could trigger a little to the front of the headspace, but he does have 2 or 3 teddy bears he keeps stashed in his closet just in case a little is pushed to front, and needs something for comfort
Speaking of his alters, he tries not to have many things in his room that triggers disassociation or switching
He tries to keep his room as "his space", and his alters have other places in the manor they can go to feel comfortable and happy
His room is very tidy, the occassional dirty dish sitting on his desk
Hoodie
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His room is located on the third floor, and is the second door on the left
His door has a bunch of stickers on it, most are from the children of the manor, so he has a lot of dinosaurs and unicorns, but occasionally someone like BEN or clockwork will come along and slap a sticker on there
He enjoys the stickers, he thinks they give his room some character
His room is fairly plain, not many decorations as he doesn't spend much time in his room
His bed has plain white sheets and pillows, and a black comforter
He has a rug on his floor, it is just a basic black rug
He also has fairy lights
He has an acoustic guitar, and occassionally plays with Natalie
His desk has his meds, laptop, and iconic hoodie on it
His room probably smells like a mix of cologne and cigarettes
He doesnt really smoke himself, but when he's hanging out with Tim, Tim usually smokes
He has a small couch in his room, placed next to his bed with a few small pillows and a blanket on it
His tv is on the wall in front of his bed
He absolutely has those fake wisteria things on his ceiling above his bed
He has a minifridge next to his bed where he keeps mainly drinks
He also has a framed picture of him and masky sitting on top of the minifridge
He has a few pictures of his friends here and there, and also hangs up drawings the children make for him
He also has a doll on his desk, it is the doll he uses when he plays with sally
He is very protective of the children, as he wishes he could have his own someday, but knows that will likely never happen
His room is also pretty clean, the worst of it being a few dirty clothes here and there
Killian Lynch
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His room is on the third floor, and is the fourth door on the left
He doesn't have any decorations on his door, just the bronze plate with his name on it
He has a queen sized bed, and it is a bit higher than most beds
His bed also has a canopy, the curtains being a deep purple
He has black pillows, purple sheets and a black comforter
His main light is a black chandelier, it is almost never on though
He has blackout curtains, allowing no light
He does, however, have LED lights that are almost always on the magenta setting
He has a candle obsession, but not scented candles, he's obbsessed with pillar candles and taper candles
He has so many taper candle holders and snuffers
More often than not, he has almost all of his candles lit
He also has a lot of books, but keeps them in a stack on the floor of his room
I feel like hed also enjoy the fake vines
He has them all over his walls
His room probably smells like incense, as well as his clothes
His desk is probably the best organized in the entire house
He has so many things on his desk, but because he keeps it so organized, it doesn't look like much
I can see him being an enjoyer of literature, often writing in notebooks he finds about his theories about different books he's read
His room is spotless almost all the time
Julius the dressmaker
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His room in on the third floor, and is the fourth door to your right
His door is very decorated, having a wide array of colors, paintings he's painted over, pictures, scraps of fabric, etc
The second you walk in his door, you are hit in the face with all of the things he keeps in his room
I definitely see him as being a maximalist
His room is cluttered and messy, you can barely even see his bed over it all
His bed, isnt even really a bed either
He keeps his spare fabrics, threads, etc on his bed
Definetly not as bad as Jeff's room, but yk
I feel like he would have a lot of leopard print
His walls would also be very much covered in wallpaper, posters, fabrics, sketches for things he wants to sew, etc
His room probably smells like fruity perfume
Def not clean but at least it's not as bad as Jeff's
Jane the killer
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Her room is on the third floor on the first door to your right
Her door has been painted a dark purple
Her room is very gothic
Her bed sits on the wall right in front of her door, and like Killian, she has a slightly higher up bed, with a canopy
Her curtains, however, are very sheer, and they are black
Her entire bed spread is black as well
Her walls have been painted purple
She almost always has a speaker playing music, it really sets the vibe for her room
She is also obsessed with pillar candles, and always has them lit
She has blackout curtains so that the sunlight doesn't ruin the vibe
Instead of using her closet, she has a very victorian-esque wardorbe
Her closet is instead used for the things she collects, such as original victorian clothing, artwork, etc
Speaking of artwork, she has a lot of victorian artwork on her walls
Most are just reprints as she obviously can't afford the real things
Her room is very clean, and always smells like her perfume
She has two nightstands on either side of her bed and she keeps her prosthetic, meds, phone, etc on them
She also has 2 pet rats
They are both boys, and she's named them Lucifer and Aristole
She treats those rats so well they are her sons <33
Jason the Toymaker
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Jason has no need to sleep, being a ghostly entity of unkown sorts
So instead, he's transformed his room into his workshop
He is located in the attic, along with Lj and Candypop
The attic has been separated into 4 main rooms
A room for Lj, a room for Candypop, a room for Jason, and a bathroom they all share
So when you walk into Jason's room, it appears as if no one has ever lived there
The entire place is covered in dust, and smells of old lady perfume
The entire room is surrounded by huge shelves, where hundreds of dolls sit
In the middle of the room, is Jason's sewing machine and a basket where he keeps all of his materials
There is a small wardrobe with a built in mirror where Jason keeps things such as his clothes, his perfume, his makeup, etc
And the only light source is an old window with old blinds, that looks as if they could fall apart any minute
Despite the downright gloomy vibe to the place, Jason thrives in this environment
Surrounded by his dolls and with nothing but his sewing machine to distract him, he finds he gets some of his best work done here!
He also has some doodles the children have made pinned to his wardrobe, each doodle detailing different outfits they want made for their games of dressup
And who better he to make such outfits?
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david-talks-sw · 4 months
Note
any new Star Wars essays in the making, or are you moving on?
I don't know, honestly.
Part of it is "life gets in the way," I'm working a lot and so whatever time I have left is spent just messing around or meeting with my loved ones.
I've got a bunch of stuff in my drafts. I don't mind sharing it here, most recent to oldest:
Sort of a joke post of me pointing out how stressful being George Lucas' producer must've been, like this guy really DIDN'T WANT to write his fucking scripts, did he? Poor Rick McCallum. Abandoned because who gives a crap.
'Ask' reply on how EU-fueled fandom perception of the Jedi was flipped by the prequels.
'Ask' reply about the themes in Ahsoka and why the show doesn't know what it's about. Problem is, I go about it starting from the basics, so nobody's gonna sit through reading a tematic breakdown of the first Pirates of the Carribean movie, The Batman and the original six Star Wars films before I even get to the show at hand.
"Part II" post about what Ahsoka, Rebels and TCW get right about lightsaber duels, which the Prequels never did.
Quote collection & analysis on just how complex the Prequels were meant to be (in the late 80s, Lucas intimated that the Sequels were the story that was supposed to have gray morality, not the Prequels)
Quote collection on how the themes and principles of Star Wars align with Lucas' own opinions and philosophies.
Quote collection on Lucas defining Anakin's flaws.
Quote collection on Lucas talking about the fact that we need to be more proactive, which aligns with what Lumi points out sometimes about the Jedi: they should've been more politically engaged because we all should be.
Why I approach Lucas as "word of god".
Personal life/joke-y post dating from the time of the WGA strike about how Jack Black's School of Rock lyrics "In his heart he knew, the artist must be true, but the legend of the rent was way past due!" applied to me. Abandoned because I didn't wanna bum everyone out.
Correcting the notion that Dark Times-era Jedi such as Kanan or Ezra or Ahsoka represent what Jedi were supposed to be.
A comprehensive end-all outlook on how Anakin's flaws all tie together. I've written this one twice and I don't know how to differentiate it from my other posts.
A secret "Part 3" to my TLJ Luke post, in which I point out that RJ's being too "indie", while being a strong point for a big chunk of the film, hampers the film's ability to make Luke feel as badass as he does on paper. I want to illustrate a storyboard for this one, but that takes time.
The evolution of Star Wars' approach to transmedia.
Debunking Star Wars myths: a (very) comprehensive outlook on children in the Jedi Order.
Problem is that only like 2/3rds of these are fully-written... and I still need to find the relevant clips, turn them into GIFs, etc etc.
There's many other interesting Asks in my inbox btw. But I'm already behind on all these, so I haven't begun to touch them.
Then there's the drawings.
I wanna draw a comic of the meeting between Yoda and Dooku in Dark Rendezvous. I wanna finish the comic fight between Maul and Ben. I wanna draw Mace, Shaak Ti, I've got a Luminara fan-art that was supposed to be ready for Jedi June 2022 and an Anakin drawing that looks weird. No time, nor am I skilled enough. (Like, I trace, that's what I do, it's not a secret I've said so before... but it takes me a long while to do so. I'm not fast at drawing, let alone coloring.) I could commission some of these, but there are obvious obstacles there.
There's fun tidbits I've discovered here and there but nobody will care about them and I usually try to not drown my blog with bs posts.
Then there's the bigger problem.
All the things I've listed above? I'm not 100% motivated to finish. But a lot of the new stuff I wanna write about is hella negative.
I had a lot of stuff I wanted to say about Ahsoka. But it wasn't all good. It was mostly me bitching, be it about the show or the fandom's reactions to it.
I've also got more stuff to say about Filoni's take on Star Wars, but I've talked about why it's inaccurate like 8 times already, and I don't actually dislike the guy, like there's plenty of things he knows and does that I think are awesome but also people won't stop putting him and his takes on a pedestal and--
oh shit, there's Acolyte too, I forgot about that, gray morality galore, here we come. But here too, like... I've talked a couple of times about why this entire gray morality thing is actually just the gen X-ers trying to make the prequels "cool" and "complex". but I've never explored properly, with quotes and research and shit. but i've talked about it so many times that at this point it'd end up like the Filoni rants, redundant. "we get it already." as if this show didn't have haters lined round the block for absolutely sexist reasons.
Don't get me started on the mountain of lies and/or idiocy that is the YouTuber Star Wars Theory.
And yet he said one thing a few months ago which struck a chord within me and it's the fact that Andor is awesome, excels on all levels because it's treated seriously, like a proper show, not a Disney Plus one... why wasn't Obi-Wan Kenobi? Why wasn't Book of Boba Fett? And I've already established multiple times that I enjoyed Kenobi (yes, including the Reva parts) and I've established that I know what they were going for in Fett and I've established that this is mainly a "Disney Plus didn't know how to structure a fucking show pre-WGA strike" issue more than anything else... but when I think about how these could've been treated instead? When I look at the characterizations and emotional stakes of like Fargo Season 5? It's infuriating. Because it's not bad (talking about Kenobi, BOBF is awful)... but it could've been EXCELLENT and instead it was just "okay" to "good".
I just miss live action lightsaber duels, man. Like, good ones.
and i dunno. maybe I should just let it rip on all this. "go off, king!"
but I think there's so much negativity re: Star Wars that adding my thoughts on these subjects, no matter how structured and reason, will just blend into a wave of needless, un-constructive hate.
maybe I should finish the writings in the drafts and just post them with no gifs, maybe just still images?
but doing any of that feels like a step back.
So that's where I'm at right now.
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fandom-chic · 2 years
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Happy Little Family: Chapter 9
Summary: When Vought asks the unthinkable, you are forced to play house with certified psychopath Soldier Boy. Your life (and dignity) may be at stake, but something about him draws you in.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Y/N
A/N: FINAL CHAPTER! Thank you all so much for tuning in. This was such a fun ride, and who knows, maybe a sequel is in the works.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8
And you waited. You did not know how long you would have to wait, but it was Ben. Although he makes you all kinds of angry, he’s yours. And you would wait one thousand years just to hold him again. 
So you waited. The first month away from him was nothing special for you. You expected him to be gone this long, at least. All you knew was that missions could take a while. Especially ones that seem like they are meant to be death traps. You tucked that thought away and decorated the nursery. 
Month three away from him was when you started to become wary. You guessed that that wariness had been heard by the Gods when a big black van pulled into your driveway. You knew it couldn’t be good news, especially when Wayne Peterson stepped out of the car. You clenched your fist around your coffee mug and watched as he approached the porch. 
“Good afternoon, Ms. (Y/L/N). May I sit here?” He asked, motioning next to you. You give him a small nod as he takes a seat. “The baby’s due soon, isn’t he?” You instinctively rub your belly, not wanting Wayne to even think of him.
“Yep, only a few more weeks.” You say, focusing on your son.
“Good, good.” He mumblesd to himself. You tense up, not wanting your son to be anything to him. He then turns towards you; you knew this couldn’t be good. “I have some bad news.” 
“What else could it be?” You say, trying to sound defiant to this man that seems to rule with an iron first over your life.
“Ben’s dead.” Your heart stops.
“What?” Was all you could muster.
“He died in combat in Nicaragua. A hero.” You stare straight ahead, appalled. 
“B-but… he’s supposed to come home.” You stutter as a tear rolls down your cheek. There is silence between you two as you come to terms with the new piece of information: you will never see Ben again. 
“I’m sorry (Y/N).” That was all Wayne could say. It sounded as insincere as any other lie he has told. 
“No, you’re not.” You say, now facing him. “You killed him.” You wanted your words to cut. To make him feel some fraction of the pain you felt. But all he did was shrug.
“He was an employee on the job, and these things happen.” At that, he stands up. You can’t bring yourself to rise. “But, I guess there is a caveat to this news.”
You brush a tear off your cheek, “What?” You whisper. What kind of caveat could there be?
“Since Ben has died, your contract with Vought is void. You and your son can fade out of the zeitgeist and back into nothingness. That’s gotta mean something.” This makes you rise as quickly as your lopsided body would allow you.
“You know what, Wayne? It means fucking nothing. You took everything from me. Things and people I didn’t know I needed, and you kicked me to the side.” You try to stand as menacingly as you can in your pregnant state. “There is a special place in Hell for you, and I hope you burn.” At that, you told him he could leave, and he did. And so went your last tie to Vought. Well, last negative tie to Vought.
Your son was born early. He arrived into the world two weeks before he was supposed to. Too far away to have driven to the hospital and too lonely to have had someone with you, you called the town doctor who helped deliver your boy in the comfort of your home. As you stared at your little boy, all you could see was him. You could see his nose and his lips already taking shape on your son’s face. You brushed a hand across one of his perfect cheeks. All you could do was smile because, in all this chaos, you got the light of your life. 
Jamie was his name. It felt right for him. He was the new love of your life. You knew his father would have felt the exact same way. 
Although the joy of a new baby was endless, it emphasized how alone you both were, especially when it was only you taking part in midnight feedings and cleaning spit up. In those moments, you would throw on one of Ben’s old T-shirts and hold your son. Your two favorite boys were with you.
A year passed faster than you thought. It wasn’t until Jamie was up and walking that you noticed how much like his father he was. You especially noticed when he lifted the coffee table with one tiny hand and threw it to the side. From that moment forward, you made sure his abilities were a very well-kept secret.
Four more years would go by even faster. Jamie started school, and you were truly alone again. You needed something in your day. You started working at the library in town. It wasn’t the most exciting activity, but it was something to take your mind off the fact that your son could be taken by Vought at any second.
Five more years pass before you consider going on a date. It all happened rather quickly from there. While putting away the returns of the week, a kind man approached you. His name was Rick, and he was a mechanic. He was perfectly fine. He told you that you were beautiful and he wanted to take you to dinner. Surprising yourself, you accepted. As you were stepping into your favorite dress, almost ready to go, you realized it wasn’t possible. When Rick arrived to pick you up on what was probably going to be a perfectly adequate first date, you had to decline. He knew why. You watched as he drove away, kicking off your heels.
Before you knew it, Jamie was 18. He was a man and one you could be proud of. No, he wasn’t the best student, you could blame his father for that, but he was kind. He was sweet. He sat down in the middle of his senior year of high school and told you he wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father. You froze for a minute, terrified that Vought had gotten their claws into him. He managed to assure you he was fine but that he wanted to become a firefighter. Put his strength to use and maybe save some innocents while he’s at it. All you could do was smile and hold him. Once he graduated, he was gone to save the world.
The years would now go by at rapid fire. Your routine turned into a never-ending day of tea, the library, and sitting on the porch, waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. You had managed to lose track of time until 2022 rolled around. Your bones were beginning to ache, but that just meant you would reunite with Ben sooner. 
As you rose one morning for your coffee, you heard a knock at the door. You stretched, put on a robe, and made your way to the door. The neighbor probably needed eggs for breakfast, which you had plenty of from your chickens.
When you opened the door, it wasn’t a neighbor who greeted you.
“(Y/N).” He said. You stand there, stunned. Before you could respond, he pulls you into an embrace. “I’m home.”
The End
Taglist: @globetrotter28@bowlegsandbiceps@bxdbxtxh15 @curlycarley @deliriouslybi @spn730015@valkyrie418 @lacilou @siospins2 @little-x-wolf @ackles79 @lokigonnakmsforbucky @sithlordpadawan @planet-ashtroid @capswife @azgucci @lovepeaceorelse @whitequeenasitbgan @ria132love @zamfir707 @liuope@muiltishipper@deans-baby-momma@this-is-me19@likearaindropfilledwithgoldust@kyrieshoka @dohmeti @infinityonhighhhhh @moonshineinasippycup@spopovich @impalaspixie@ryethebrokengae@spnwoman@love-jackles@quixscentsposts @jassackles @iamtranscending@junie-keene @mrschapter @howlerwolfmax @slamminmine
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suzannahnatters · 1 year
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Trope Talk #1: Enemies to Lovers: A Deeper Dive
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Reports of my death have been exaggerated, but not greatly. While I was in bed for a week lately, roleplaying a Victorian invalid, I watched a YouTube doing a deep dive on the enemies to lovers trope. While it was really fun seeing her break down subtropes (hate to love, rivals to lovers, reluctant allies, villain romance, and more - all of which I adore), I found myself somewhat disappointed by her attempt to discuss the deeper issues surrounding the trope. Like, yes: a lot of people enjoy things in fiction that they would not enjoy IRL and mature readers CAN distinguish between fantasy and reality...but also the media we consume DOES shape us, not all readers ARE as mature as we'd like to think, and while this trope can be executed in a way that's not problematic, it can also be executed in a way that is. Even if we wouldn't all personally draw the line between toxic and healthy in precisely the same place, I think that line does objectively exist. So, here are some of the ways I've subjectively drawn that line in my personal writing and reading when it comes to this trope...
SOME WAYS OF DOING ETL RIGHT
1. Not everyone is going to agree as to what's healthy and what's not, and it's important to listen to others.
Some are going to be mad at me for loving this trope at all, and some are going to be mad at me for thinking that one still needs to exercise judgement and that not everything goes, but hear me out. As a writer, the harder you go with this trope, the more divided your audience will be. Given that we all tend to draw the lines in different places, I think that listening to each other and discussing the reasons behind our own preferences and choices is going to help all of us understand the stakes, avoid hurting or triggering readers who have trauma from toxic relationships, and extend grace to storytellers who don't make the same decisions we would. And we shouldn't be defensive that this is necessary. ETL is actually a fairly new and under-explored trope, which I think is part of why it can be so divisive, especially in a post-#MeToo landscape where a lot of us are starting to rethink the controlling men and helpless women in pairings we've been conditioned to see as romantic. Meanwhile, as an author with a deep love for this trope, I hope that posts like this will help more cautious readers to understand that writing about dark and spiky relationships doesn't necessarily mean romanticising abusive behaviour. Either way, I've benefited from listening in humility and I truly think my stories are better for it.
2. Remember that evil is not misunderstood.
If you'll be writing ETL, then you need to decide early on if the love interest is evil or just misunderstood, and be careful to write him accordingly and be honest about it. If the love interest literally goes around killing innocent people, deal with that. That's evil, that's not (just) a traumatic childhood. On the other hand, if the love interest is antagonistic because of a misunderstanding, but is a fundamentally decent person deep down, he probably wouldn't casually slap the heroine around or otherwise act like a jerk. One mistake I used to see a lot of writers making (less often these days) is trying to convince me that some loathsome jerk is just misunderstood. No, if he's been doing bad things, don't try to explain his guilt away. Confront it head on.
THE LAST JEDI was my gateway drug to ETL precisely because I'd never seen this trope done so beautifully and so uncompromisingly: when Rey is forced to face the fact that the boy she likes is unrepentantly evil, she refuses to join him, explodes him and gets out of there. Ben isn't ready to seek repentance yet; he's a proud, if wavering, villain. Because the movie was absolutely honest about the evil within Ben, I was able to genuinely hope Rey might confront that evil and exorcise it, instead of being gaslit into thinking it was all right.
By contrast, in the very Bluebeard-vibes kdrama MASK, the love interest believes he's responsible for the death of his late fiancee and is being manipulated by the villain into thinking he's criminally insane. As a result, he believes that he's going to kill the heroine, his new wife. Physical touch and dirt are both triggers for him, too, and what the audience sees as a trauma response comes across to the heroine as strong hostility. He tells the heroine he is going to kill her, and she believes him, but the truth is that he dreads it as much as she does. This is a really beautifully done form of misunderstanding. Just remember that to be believable, misunderstandings need to be resolved fairly quickly.
3. Enemies doesn't need to mean hatred or toxicity.
While hate to love is a valid subtrope - especially in contexts where the characters aren't literally trying to kill each other, like in a contemporary romcom - ETL does NOT need to involve toxicity. There's a difference between ordering the assassination of an enemy, versus strangling your wife to terrorise her into obedience; both are bad, but only the latter is classic domestic violence, which casts doubt on any "HEA". Enemies need not hate or even abuse each other to be at odds; they may feel deep personal respect for a worthy opponent, who just happens to be ideologically committed to an opposing cause and therefore duty bound to antagonise the other. Personally, these characters may like, respect, or even passionately love each other - but thanks to duty, they're obliged to thwart each other.
A favourite example of this is Nikita and Michael from the spy show NIKITA. The pair started out as master and pupil before becoming coworkers for a rogue government agency, Division. Now Nikita has gone rogue herself and is working to bring down Division. She knows that Michael is still hanging in there for several reasons - he still believes Division serves his country, he's been skilfully manipulated by the head of the agency, and above all he feels the need to protect Division's young agents who are increasingly exploited by them. Nikita still has respect for Michael because of all these things and because he's the man who trained her to be as awesome as she is - and because she's his best student, Michael returns the sentiment and still goes out of his way to protect her, even as he's trying to hunt her down. Midway through the season, Nikita tries to protect Michael by preventing him from taking out the man who once killed his family - at which point Michael's view of Nikita sours. But she never stops respecting him and he's still willing to work with her when necessary to protect his agents. Throw in some mad chemistry and you've got the ingredients for a perfect ETL situation - although it has some hostility from Michael's side, it's never without that solid core of care and respect for each other. This is what makes the romance work, of course; all romances need a good reason for the character to care about each other. 
4. Remember that ETL is a fundamentally transformative relationship.
This builds on my first point. In ETL, unless there's a valid misunderstanding at play, there are probably moral/ethical differences between the characters. Thus, a huge part of your romance needs to be about resolving those differences, usually for the better. In other words (unless you're really into a corruption arc for the protagonist), the villainous/antagonistic character needs to genuinely repent and change, and we need that change to be demonstrated convincingly in story. At this stage, then, a good ETL story becomes about character growth, which means that it cannot be rushed. If the love interest has genuinely been evil, then he needs to change and prove it.
LOVE BETWEEN FAIRY AND DEVIL is a great example of a transformative ETL story. At the beginning of the drama, Dongfang Qingcang is a terrifying evil overlord who has frozen his emotions, killed his own father to rise to power, mastered hellfire magic and terrorised the three realms. As the story unfolds we do learn that there are some misunderstandings: Dongfang's father is the one who destroyed his emotions and forced him as a child to kill him, as well as instilling in him the fear that his people will be destroyed unless he conquers their enemies. But, this doesn't make Dongfang's villainy okay. Even after his emotions have been reawoken by our adorable heroine he still needs to realise that invading her homeland is not the right way to say thank you. By the end of the story we see that Dongfang is indeed a changed overlord. It takes a while, but it is believable.
5. Related, the characters should be a match for each other, especially when it comes to power and to morals.
I think a lot of the objections to ETL and villain romance pairings come from a perceived mismatch between the two characters: a weak person with a stronger person, or a pure and good person with a despicable manipulative blackguard. I think that it's always a good idea to balance this out. If your story begins with the love interest kidnapping your heroine to be his queen, why not let your heroine run a coup and replace him on the throne - right when he least expects it? The fact that your heroine is willing to get her hands dirty when it comes to this antagonist is not just delicious drama - it's also evidence that the two of them have more in common than they might think, and that in a longterm relationship she won't have any problems standing up to him. Alternately, if your heroine is going to remain pure and good throughout, she should probably be a match for the villain in terms of power, however that is measured in your story (and it can be a totally different sort of power than the villain wields). One of the most delicious things when watching any villain fall in love is finding the one woman whom he's absolutely helpless before.
I think Holly Black did this really well in the FOLK OF THE AIR trilogy. At first, Jude is a powerless mortal in the deadly fae court, and Cardan is the fae prince who delights in tormenting her. Jude proves herself far more cunning and ruthless than Cardan as she maneuvers the two of them into power as reluctant allies. It's clear that what Jude lacks in magic she makes up for in sharp intelligence and will to survive, and her ability to find a happy ending hinges on her ability to let down her guard and be vulnerable to Cardan. On the other end of the scale, Beauty and the Beast in most of its incarnations is about two kind people who want different things for sympathetic reasons, so that even though Beauty is held captive by the Beast we can understand the Beast's desperation to break his curse (and the Disney animated classic makes his motivations even more sympathetic by imposing a rapidly narrowing window of opportunity in which to do so). The Beast is truly gentle, and Belle is just spirited enough to snap back at him when he snaps at her. Both these stories work because the lovers are fundamentally a match.
6. Be creative.
There are all sorts of ways to create that delicious see-saw between "I adore you" and "I am going to kill you". The kdrama THE MASK, as mentioned above, uses the hero's mental health in an incredibly respectful way to create a sense of antagonism. The kdrama FLOWER OF EVIL does something similar. In Megan Spooner's absolutely incendiary SHERWOOD, there's a scene where the love interest goes from nearly killing the protagonist to tenderly embracing and caring for her within the very same chapter. Normally this would be the red flag to end all red flags, but it doesn't work that way here. How did Spooner manage it? Simple. The love interest doesn't know that the outlaw Robin Hood, whom he's trying to capture, is actually the same person as Maid Marian, the fair lady he's in love with - and when a quick costume change takes our heroine from one persona to another, the love interest's behaviour changes too. The emotional rollercoaster is real - but only for her.
7. There doesn't need to be a HEA.
I know, a lot of you are going to be up in arms about this, but it's true. Sometimes, especially in a straight up villain romance, the villain shouldn't get the girl. Maybe that's because she wants someone else, maybe it's because he's too manipulative and evil to be convincing as a long term relationship. But, let me frame it like this: why limit yourself just to writing the viable romances? There's a lot of good fun that can be got out of unviable romances too. You may not feel comfortable settling down with the villain, but that doesn't mean he can't be kissed :3
For example, in THE RINGS OF POWER the showrunners did something I never expected and gave Sauron himself a little crush on his greatest nemesis, Galadriel. The final episode, as he revealed his true identity and did his level best to manipulate her into joining him to rule Middle Earth, put joy into the souls of fangirls everywhere. It also caused a whole lot of people to clutch their pearls for some reason which remains opaque to me. After all, Tolkien was the man who wrote Eol, Maeglin, Wormtongue, and that moment when Morgoth himself was perving on Luthien Tinuviel. That aside, this is never going to be a viable match. Galadriel is married and hates Sauron's guts and Sauron is still a manipulative snake whose plans for healing Middle Earth involve him ruling as its lord and master, hopefully with Galadriel at his side. Galadriel doesn't fall for it for a second, which is one of the very things that makes this kind of story so incredibly satisfying to me. The fact that she won't succumb to his manipulation and temptation is incredibly empowering. As in THE LAST JEDI, the ball is in Sauron's court as to whether he changes to deserve her. And of course he won't - not just because he goes on to become the Lord of the Rings of Barad-dûr but more importantly because he never loved Galadriel for who she is but because of the way she made him feel, powerful and purposeful.
Not all villain romances need to end this way, of course, because some villains are capable of change. I think this is what makes Reylo viable where Haladriel is not. While Sauron and Galadriel each appeal to the EVIL in each other, Rey appeals to the good in Ben; he meanwhile desires the Light in her. This is why her refusal does ultimately prompt him to change, although of course the story's resolution was massively bungled in THE RISE OF SKYWALKER.
8. Love should be what the villain needs - but not what he wants.
It's hard to make absolute rules when it comes to any artistic choice, but this is probably the closest I come when dealing with this trope: because there should be consequences for the love interest's misdeeds, especially when it comes to the heroine. I call this the POTO rule: if the love interest wants the heroine romantically or sexually abuses her, he should not be rewarded by getting her. Enemies to lovers may fight over anything by any means, but not over romantic or sexual possession of each other. If the villain becomes a villain in order to possess the heroine, then a HEA for them involves giving him exactly what he wanted and thereby justifying his bad behaviour. Mind you, this doesn't mean the love interest can never want the heroine on some level; if he did not then this would not be a romance. We're talking about his most fundamental motivation and his most important story goal. She should not be either of them; she should be a distraction, an impediment to them.
This is simply good writing sense. Enemies to lovers normally implies a positive change arc for the love interest. Every good positive change arc involves a character who Wants one thing, say, to rule the world; but Needs something totally different - the capacity to make peace through compassion, say.  Such characters may or may not get what they Want, depending on how good it is for them and the people around them, but they'll always get what they Need. This is why I think ETL works best when the heroine herself is the thing the antagonist doesn't know he Needs. As an enemy, and even more so if he's a villain, he's likely to be unscrupulous in getting what he Wants, and he shouldn't get her for the same reasons that characters often don't get what they Want. Think about it: the villain probably needs some hard consequences for what he's done. He can get them, *and also get the girl*, but only as long as the girl isn't the motivation for his crimes.
{How does this fit with the "stolen bride" genre of story, usually a fairytale? Do I disapprove of those on principle? Mm, no. If the bride was stolen primarily because the kidnapper claimed to have a romantic or sexual attraction to her, I might object. But there's usually some other motivation. He wants to break a curse; he wants to annex her kingdom; he wants to keep her out of his enemies' hands; he might have been ordered to marry her by someone he dares not cross, or bound by an ancient custom; in any case he ought not to be personally motivated to control or possess her. This is one of those grey areas where lines blur and it's wise to listen and be careful because so many real women have been trapped in marriages to real live villains; but the thing is very doable under the right circumstances.} 
I call this the POTO rule because it was inspired by THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA. In this story, Erik is obsessed with Christine to the point where romantic and sexual possession of her drives everything he does. He kills, manipulates, and gaslights everyone at the Paris Opera in an attempt to win Christine's heart, and ultimately he's willing to threaten to kill the man Christine truly loves in order to get the thing he Wants: Christine's hand in marriage. Now, I know a lot of you ship this pairing and I'm not going to scold you for it; maybe you ship them the way I ship Haladriel, loving the relationship without thinking it should end in a HEA, or perhaps you think Christine can fix Erik through some genuinely transformative plotline, or maybe you just want Erik to get what he wants even though it's messed up, and whatever it is I hope you have fun with it. But personally, from the perspective of a published author with a sense of responsibility to my readers, I really think the story ended in the best possible way. Erik doesn't get what he Wants (Christine) but he does get what he Needs (a transformative moment of transcendent compassion that enables him to act in a truly loving manner, by letting Christine go).
So, most of the time, I think it's wisest if the heroine is what the love interest doesn't know he Needs. Again, LOVE BETWEEN FAIRY AND DEVIL does this SO well. Dongfang Qingcang doesn't have time for love - emotionless and too busy Evil Overlording, he's never been in love before. So, when he's saddled with an adorable, dimwitted flower fairy, he can't wait to break the spell that links them together so that he can kill her and get on with his villainous plans. When her emotions begin to infect him, he can't help falling in love with her, even though he fights it every single step of the way. She's absolutely not what he Wants, but she is everything he Needs to thaw his frozen heart and teach him to act with compassion and empathy. Even though he spends much of the series planning to kill her, the HEA doesn't strike me as being Problematique the way that an Erik/Christine HEA would be - because a HEA with Orchid represents the moral growth that Dongfang needs, rather than the selfish desire he wants.
9. Maybe the villain's HEA is with someone else.
This doesn't mean a villain is irredeemable or shouldn't get a HEA. It just might mean that his HEA is with someone else. (Unless he's actually a rapist. Then just light the man on fire.) Erik shouldn't get Christine because he's done so much evil in order to possess her. But, once she's broken through to him to show him compassion, he might be ready to learn to love and to make amends for his past crimes...perhaps with someone else.
This was a huge part of the inspiration for the character of Vasily in my Bête Epoque stories. He does something which traumatises the heroine so much, there's no realistic HEA for them. Like Christine, she forgives him anyway, even in the midst of betrayal. And like Erik, he finds he's unable to go through with his villainous plans. She gets her HEA with somebody else, but I found myself with this incredibly compelling character whom a lot of people were pulling for. Vasily has already learned a huge lesson through having loved and lost my first heroine - so when he meets my second heroine, even though in a lot of ways he's still a treacherous monster, he's able to start afresh, and do better, with someone far more resilient who holds far greater power over him.
10. Individual characters will need individual things.
Finally, I think it's necessary to use judgement based on the individual characters and what they need. This is another reason why it's so difficult to make hard and fast rules here. For instance, I said that if the enemy sexually assaults the heroine he should forgo any hope of a HEA with her. But I think we've all seen romances that involve, say, some dubiously consensual kissing, which we can understand the kissee forgiving. By the same token, the act which disqualifies my character Vasily from his first HEA is not sexual assault but something which is coded that way within the story world, and experienced that way by the heroine (vampire bite). The fact that it's not literally sexual assault is what makes it possible for Vasily to get a romantic second chance, but the fact that it is figurative sexual assault is one of the main things that decided me against a HEA the first time. So, I think that whether you're a writer or reader, it's important to exercise judgement based not just on the things that are obvious, but also on less obvious things like the characters' specific needs, the thematic symbolism of the story world, and more.
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So those are my best ETL writing guidelines - and again, this is only what works for me! I think it's really hard to make hard and fast rules for any artistic work, but from thinking about what works for me and what doesn't, these are some of the lines I've drawn for myself. If you're reading this, I hope it provokes some helpful thoughts :-)
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