#BEN????? THAT SCENE WITH BEN IN THE BATHROOM?????

[astudyintheburningofhearts]

THE HEARTSTOPPER SEASON TWO OFFICIAL TRAILER HAS ME IN NEAR TEARS OK.

[deathsbestgirl]

okay so i see a lot of people talking about “i wish i had two lives: one for god, and one for you” / “i wish i had two lives: both for you” and like god, yes, so sickeningly romantic in the best way. but i just want to talk about the implications. like it really does make me a little insane.

first, david's putting her on the same level as god?! the priority, devotion, belief, love. kristen is saying 'yes, i understand,' she wants both too. she loves their work, she's happy to follow him around investigating miracles & possessions & demons. even as a non-believer, a lapsed catholic. it's one of those 'it doesn't matter if i believe in god, i believe in you' things (VERY mulder/scully coded and it's eating me alive)

like THATS CRAZY!

and because i haven't been seeing anything about it: ben piping in and kristen saying another for ben too just MELTS me. i know david & kristen's relationship is more to the fore, but like. BEN. the things he does for kristen without question, without judgment. if there's anything, it's only concern & care for her, and kristen loves ben so much. i can't actually picture david & kristen without bending over, and i don't think they really can either. they've really created a family together.

[rainparadefromhell]

a short new clip (posted by netflix india) shows devi really upset, after the prom crash (i assume). ben comes in and she looks surprised which means she did not invite him over.

?-??#$?

what is this scene gonna be???

[dribs-and-drabbles]

You mean to tell me that we got NO resolution of Ben and Chopper's conversation by the pool AND NOT EVEN ONE SECOND of them in the trailer for next week?!?!

[syrma-sensei]

→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.

gif credit.

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: explicit.

warnings: vought's ungodly shenanigans, mentions of cheating, couple fighting, angst, misogyny, antiquated mentality, dub-con, power imbalance, fingering, forced orgasms, angry sex, cock riding...

word count: 3.4k

summary: being america's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free...

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @venus-haze, @thebiggerbear...

A/N: I'd like to thank my two pretty moots, @kaleldobrev who's been always there for me, listening to mental blurbs and chaotic spews of unhinged ideas and continuous mind dump ❤️ and @zepskies who bares my energy, which can be a bit much, each time I spam her dms with life cringing memes and awaful reacts ❤️

Kneeling down on one knee, your mitted hands hoisted the oven door close as you hummed a melody to yourself. Turning on your heels, you stood up and gave the dining table a once-over before allowing a proud grin slip on your lips.

“Perfect.”

Then your eyes glanced at your watch. It was half an hour past seven in the evening. Perfect. There'd be enough time to pamper yourself in a relaxing shower and spruce up with no rush before your husband was home.

You gave the dining room another glimpse to make sure everything was in place before you headed to the bathroom upstairs, walking through the living room where the T.V. displayed a Soldier Boy anti-drugs commercial.

A snore escaped your nose upon hearing the phrase: “Just say no.” Remembering how your husband threw a fit behind the scenes at how stupid it was, to the point of getting Stan Edgar himself on the line for him to find an alternative to it. Because no way he was saying that shit.

“God, I sounded like a fucking douchebag,” He'd told you in his dressing room, a smouldering reefer hanging between his lips — the irony, after they wrapped filming up.

You'd giggled, playfully plucking it from his lips to take a drag of your own, “No, baby, you did just fine.” You purred, and his mouth curled up into a small grin, “The public needs that y'know…” You tipped his chin up, your polished, long nails grazed lightly to his skin, “You're America's golden son, right? You're the man everyone should look up to.”

“Damn sure they should.” He'd chuckled, leaning down for a kiss which you gladly welcomed.

Being Soldier Boy's wife came with many many perks, but it also had its downsides, one of which was to have to deal with his short temper. But what could you say? You loved the man. Ardently so; you literally fought the world to have him all for yourself despite Vought's disapproval of your nuptial.

You savoured the victory when you married Ben in a small ceremony without Vought's blessing. It was like a slap to them when Ben imparted upon them the happy news, he delivered them a severe black eye, especially the vainglorious bastard Edgar. Who had once told you that you and Ben wouldn't work out, for it was simply "inconvenient" for a superhero like Soldier Boy to be involved in a serious relationship with a mere… human; it'd be a "disappointment" in the public eye, as he put it. Like he had a say in the matter.

But here you were, with a ring on your left hand to swagger about, and happily married to America's first hero, Edgar and Vought could say hello to your middle finger.

To nobody's surprise, you resented Vought, and held such abhorrence against them for not letting you and your husband live the life you wanted for yourselves. Despite your personal efforts, your proclaimed triumph was soon cut short because Vought declined to go public and endorse your marriage. Not that you and your husband gave two shits about their approval, but the rules were rules. And their lawyers affirmed that a public exposure of your marriage might damage Soldier Boy's rep, therefore, Vought's; given the fact that you were more than thirty years younger than him. They couldn't have it said that the hero of heroes was a creep even though they'd tried to conceal his age when he and Phoebe Cates starred in Love And War because it started to seem fishy. It was expected, though. But what you didn't see coming was Ben's response, or lack of response as to put it.

Despite being even more obdurate about this marriage than yourself. You felt terribly abjured by your husband. You'd thought he'd fight for you, for what you both had, and he'd want to let the world know about you. It'd broken your heart when it dawned upon you that Ben wouldn't risk his fame and glory for anyone, for you. Reluctantly, you bit the bullet, you had to, for him, because you loved him, and would do anything to keep this marriage intact. If you had to compromise for it, then so be it. You didn't care.

To your solace, Ben never changed after the frustrating incident; he was still the man you fell in love with. He might be smug, crass, and insufferable to everyone but you could still perceive the tender side he had though he'd never actually admit it, and you never pushed him too much. You were subtle enough to know when to stroke his ego and when to tease it. He was a man, after all. But it was obvious; he was a doting husband who cherished you in his own way. He showered you with gifts, and pampered you when he could. And he was eager to have babies with you. He never ceased to express how rapturous he would be if he were to have a son. A child with you.

Sure, you had your own qualms about that particular day, and there was more than a time you wanted to have a conversation with him about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to screw it up with stupid doubts. If Ben hadn't truly loved you, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did, he wouldn't have brought you to his workplace to have you at his side — and to poke Vought's eye every single time. He wouldn't have let you in and told you about his family and his dad, about his fucked-up childhood and how he became a hero.

No, your bond was bigger than any fleeting thoughts of incredulity.

You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.

Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.

The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.

On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.

Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.

Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.

You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.

Soldier Boy finally found the one!

Your heart paced up with each press.

A long awaited power couple is now here!

Vought just shocked the world by—

And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…

It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.

“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.

Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”

You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.

Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”

Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.

You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.

“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”

You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.

“Honey, I'm home.” Ben announced once he stepped in the house. He sighed, putting his shield down and making his way to the kitchen where you usually would be, making his dinner. He didn't take his boots off though he knew you'd throw a fit about it, but let's just say that teasing and screwing with you was his favourite hobby. His anticipating grin soon dropped and a small scowl knitted his brows when an odd mixture of scents wafted into his nose. His eyes dilated at the unusual messy scene in the kitchen; the table was flipped over, glass splints scattered all over the floor, freshly-cooked food covering the carpet beneath the dining table, and a chocolate pie was squashed into the wall.

With a pacing heart, Ben cried your name, and hurriedly climbed up the stairs. His feet darted to the bedroom when he heard you sniffling and weeping.

An audible sigh of relief flouted out of chest when he saw you. Your hair was wet and a damp towel wrapped around your body, but his eyebrow quirked up when he noticed you packing a bag on the bed. The fuck?

“(Y/N), the fuck is going here?” You scared the shit outta me. He wanted to say, after the shitty day he had, he just wanted to have you in his arms and play with your hair.

You startled for a moment when you heard his southern accent. You used to be fond of it, but today you were certainly not.

“I'm leaving.” Your answer came out curt, your hands tugging your bag zippers close.

You heard his footsteps getting closer until you felt his hand on your bare shoulder, “What happened to you, sweetheart?”

You pulled yourself away from his hold, hissing, “Don't you fucking touch me!”

He didn't seem to heed your warning as he reached a hand to your face. Gritting your teeth, you spun around with your hand ready to deliver a slap to his cheek. However, and no matter how fast and pissed you were, he was always quicker and alerter. Fucking supe.

“You don't get to touch me ever again you asshole!” You shrieked, yanking your wrist from his grasp, your wet hair stuck to your face, chest heaving with each breath. 

“The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!” He growled with a deep scowl, “Just left you all happy and giggling in the morning, is it here? Your time of the month again?”

“Fuck you!” You spat, clenched hands rising up to his chest, “You're my fucking problem,” You jabbed a fist to chest, though he didn't move an inch, but damn didn't it feel good! You blew another punch to his stupidly firm chest again and again.

“Fucking Christ!” He grumbled, and with one strong arm, Ben wrangled your back against his chest and caged you in his steel hold, one hand securing both of your wrists above your head, “Calm the fuck down!”

Legs kicking and hands tugging, you tried to wriggle out of his arms but to no avail, you felt so helpless against his raw strength. Your anger and frustration poured out of your mouth in a wailing, broken voice, “Leave. Me. Alone!” You bellowed, “Go to your fucking Crimson Bitch!” Two rivulets of tears drizzled from your eyes again, “Go to your fucking Tess and let her fire-crack your nuts, you fucking pussy!”

“Christ on a cross, do you hear yourself talk, woman?!”

His eyes widened before his eyebrows scrunched deeply. He took you off guard when he brought you down to the floor as he crouched on one knee. Your towel unwrapped at the sudden movement and you were naked beneath his eyes. His hands were still holding you in place.

Two green eyes regarded you softly, “You really took that marketing shit for real?” He thumbed your lower lip, and his free hand trailed down your naked form. “Fucking hell, thought you were way smarter than that, sweetheart.” You shivered from both the cold and his touch, his sinful reaching your mound, “You really think I'd fucking leave you for her?”

You couldn't suppress the moan when he stroked your throbbing clit. A shot of arousal seeped out of your opening much to Ben's satisfaction. Anger made the colour of your face rise, “Fuck you! Fuck your bitch! Fuck Vought!” You spat, your eyes burning holes into his as he proceeded toying with your flesh until your voice broke, “Y-You want me to buy your shit — Ah!” Two of his thick and expert digits entered your slit, massaging your love spots thoroughly. “After you didn't stand up for our marriage?!” You groaned, hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers.

“Is that so?” His brow quirked up amusedly. Was this funny to this bastard? Was your marriage some kind of a joke to him?

You gasped as he deliberately hit your weak spot; sweet, delightful coils fluttered at the tip of your stomach, “I was under the fucking impression that you had your pretty, little head wrapped around how this fucking business worked!” He snarled.

“Fuck you! I hate you!” Your body snapped as you came abundantly on his fingers which made him grin slyly down at you.

You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, so you took your window and jerked yourself free. He was shocked when you pushed him down on the floor and straddled his hips, your dripping cunt was drenching his pants with your cum. He raised a playful brow at you but soon was replaced by a shocked frown when you slapped his irritatingly handsome face.

“Fucking hell, you fucking little ballbuster—”

You shushed him with a finger on his lips, “You're fucking mine, Benjamin, you hear me! You're fucking mine!” You hissed, having no idea where your vigour came from as you tore his shirt off of his chest. His length poked you when you gazed with searing fire in your eyes at his, “You. Belong. To. Me.” You furiously tucked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing out with life.

A wanton moan came off your lips as you sunk yourself down his cock, whereas he grumbled in pleasure as you hugged him tightly with your wet and warm insides.

You snapped your hips harshly and he growled, “Fuck, doll—!”

Another snap, your voice was laboured, “I own you. You're married not to that whore, not to Vought, but to me!”

Your skin slammed against his meat vehemently as you gritted your teeth when another orgasm was spiralling in your body. You paced up your movement, a hand banging demandingly on his chest, “Say it! You're fucking mine!”

“Holy shit!” You watched his eyes roll backwards as he rasped, “Yours, babe,”

“Holy fuck, Ben! Ben, I'm coming again!”

That was his cue to take control again. He sat up, cradling you in his warm hold, “Cum to me, babe, fucking soak my cock.” You wabled his name, clinging to his shoulders as your climax stormed out of your body like a mad hurricane. You whimpered pathetically when his two large hands on your hips kept making you ride him through your high.

“Fucking stupid girl,” He growled, shooting his seed up your insides.

With laboured breaths, you glared at each other. You felt his cock softening inside of you, “Fucking idiot man.” You scoffed.

He chuckled with a boyish grin on his sweaty face, “That was fucking hot, think I like this wild side of you, darlin'”

You snickered, “You bet, wait until you see what I'm gonna do with that little fuck, Edgar.”

Ben rumbled a deep chortle, much to your annoyance, would this man ever take you seriously? “I swear to fucking Christ, Ben, if they—you don't break off that stupid shit with Countess and go public about us, I'll fucking burn that fucking tower to the fucking ground, because I'm fucking done with this—mhmmm!”

He cut you off with a scorching kiss and its heat made you thaw against his lips. His cock twitched inside of you.

“Jealousy looks pretty on you though, sweetheart” He teased, his lips brushing to yours.

God, damn this man and his endless ego! “Ben!” You nudged him playfully.

“Can't wait to see you wanting to snatch some ladies' heads off when we go to balls together.”

You smiled at him, biting on your bottom lip. The idea of finally being acknowledged as Ben's wife warmed your heart, and his willingness to do so made your heart race. However, disturbing thoughts loomed in your head again, “Think Vought will let us be?” You asked with hesitation. Fuck, that shit really got too deep into you.

He rolled his eyes, “Try not to work your pretty head hard 'bout this, doll,” He tucked a tress of your hair behind your ear, “The man who fucking beat the Nazis can handle some sweaty fucknuts at Vought.” There was something warmly reassuring about his smugness.

“See? All that shit wouldn't happen if you didn't stay silent while they fucking tried to play their fucking game!”

Ben chuckled, “Well, the fucking was totally worth it.”

You groaned in frustration, “Ben… I thought you abandoned me.”

Your husband furrowed his brows at you, “You women hardly think sometimes, don't you?” You scowled at his remark but he sighed, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands, “I fucking fought to make you my wife. I fucking put my whole career and name at risk for you.” You blinked at him, “The day before we tied our knot, I fucking told the boardroom that I was marrying you, that I'd fucking walk off if they tried anything funny… they didn't, till fucking today.” He sighed, “They fucking announced that bullshit before I was even told.”

“Assholes,” You whispered.

“After that pathetic act, I fucking stormed to Edgar like I stormed Normandy. Let's say that he and I did a little bit of chatting,” He gave you a conceited smirk, giving you no detail of how he got scared shitless when he saw the mess in the kitchen. He thought Vought dared to fucking do something to you. And when he heard you cry he feared the worst. But of course, he wouldn't tell you anything about that. Because he was the fucking man of this house; if his feelings of fear appeared, the sense of security he provided to this house, to you, would crumble. And he wouldn't have that. Ever.

You, on the other hand, had a weird combination of pride and happiness sprouted within your chest.

“I'm so sorry, Ben…” You said, cupping his face in your hands, “I-I don't know what came over me when I saw you with her,” You couldn't even say her name.

“Couldn't have your man stolen away, could you?” He teased you.

“Never.” You answered, “And I'm sorry for what happened, husband.”

“I mean you did make it up for me, wife,” He flashed you a cheeky grin, “Though, I don't feel particularly in a forgiving mood… yet.”

Head tilting to the side, your raised an eyebrow, rolling your hips teasingly on his cock, “Don't push your luck…”

“Try me.”

[maarigolds]

Since we all know how much of a shitshow umbrella academy s4 was, let's revisit the good old days. Here's my reaction to ep1 s1, which I haven't seen in like 5 years:

We're starting off strong with the sudden pregnancy scene: this is how you get the viewer's attention

Cunty shot of Reggie walking with the seven nannies and the seven baby carriers

Viktor playing the violin while all the other characters are introduced 10/10 stunning no notes

Rehab worker saying "We'll see you soon Klaus" and him immediatly overdosing and being reanimated in the ambulance. Now we know he probably just came back to life by himself!

"You got big, Luther! What's your secret, protein shakes?"

Pogo!!! I missed you, you ape butler!

Baby Viktor leaving sandwitches for Five 🥺🥺🥺

Klaus-Allison alliance going strong since the beginning I see

"Did you see Diego?" "Yeah, with that stupid outfit" "Do you think he wears that thing in the shower?" I love siblings being siblings

Ok I had forgotten about the Allison and Luther thing. Maybe it wasn't ALL great.

"Dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?"

"Ok, sorry, I'm just gonna go murder mom, I'll be right back"

Klaus is seriously the best

Bank robbery flashback!!!

"Guns are for sissies! Real men throw knives!"

"That's one badass StApLeR" god I miss five's voice cracks so much

*Ben covered in blood* "Can we go home now?"

Back to the present with Klaus spilling Reggie's ashes lmao

I THINK WE'RE ALONE NOW AKA BEST DANCE SCENE IN TV SHOW HISTORY

No seriously Diego absolutely killing it, Luther doing the hand-krabs, Klaus dancing with the urne

And then boom! Five is back! Honestly iconic entrance

Also Klaus trying to stop a temporal anomaly with a fire extinguisher whyyyy lmao

Five interrupting his speech about the future to look Klaus up and down and 100% seriously say "nice dress"

Klaus responding with "ah, danke"

"That makes no sense" "well, it would if you were smarter"

Also unrelated but Viktor being such a shy wallflower in s1... he's come such a long way!!!

Luther throwing reggie's ashes on the ground "probably would have been better with some wind"

Luther and Diego beating the crap out each other. Viktor: "stop it!" Klaus: "hit him!"

Also Klaus trying to protect Five and him having none of it, too cute

"An entire square block, 42 bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, and not one single drop of coffee" "dad hated caffeine" "well he hated children too, and he had plenty of us!"

"Alright, guess I'll see you guys in another ten years, when Pogo dies" Diego please 💀💀

"You know, every time I close my eyes I see a diarrheatic hyppo about to shit on my face" this was robert sheehan improvising and honestly what the fuck how does someone even come up with that

The Istanbul was constantinople fight was honestly art. This was really the moment I knew I would love this show with all of my heart. Also masterful way to show exactly who Five is in just a couple of minutes

BEN!!! I MISS OG BEN SO MUCH!!! He was baby

Five going to Viktor when he needed help. Honestly we should have gotten more of them being besties it was so good

"The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it" and that's how you end a first episode! I'm hooked! Except I'm not cause I know how it ends 🫠

Well this is it. This show was honestly so good in the beginning. I have no clue what happened. At least we'll always have season 1.

[lilacliquors]

pairing: soldier boy x reader

sweet or spicy: spicy

word count: 627

prompt: [TABLE]: sender touches receiver's thigh under the table at a restaurant or a dinner party

notes: here's day ten! i went a different angle with this one that i originally planned, and i liked it better. and there's only four more prompts to go, and i can't wait to write the phillip graves one like y'all have no idea omg

if there was one thing most people knew, it was not to seat you and ben next to each other at vought events. everyone knew how handsy ben liked to get, and with you, with was like a thousand times worse. you fed off of each other, like tossing wood onto a bonfire. and tonight was no different.

it was vought’s annual shareholder dinner, and whoever made up the seating chart was not let into the industry not-so-secret secret. you and ben were seated directly next to each other, and to most people’s surprise, things were going well. there was no fuss, no commotion, nothing out of the ordinary. you were both well behaved, and it was a breath of fresh air. people had heard horror stories of the two of you, and most didn’t want to believe them. but, there you two were, chatting people up and simply enjoying the atmosphere of the night.

little did anyone know, however, the tablecloth was hiding a little sin.

ben’s hand was resting on your thigh, creeping ever so closely up towards his major prize. the dress you wore had been picked by him specifically, and he was pleased to see that you had obliged his one request: you’d forgone any underwear that night. he could feel the heat of your cunt as his hand crept higher, and to your credit, you kept an amazing poker face as his fingers gripped and rubbed and squeezed the soft skin of your thigh. he almost wanted to break your facade, but at the same time, he wanted to keep this to himself. he didn’t want others to know that he was so dangerously close to the warmth of your pussy, he could practically taste it. and lord knows he wanted to. what he would have given to just lower himself to his knees, push your thighs apart, and bury his head between them, to lap at your folds and listen to the melodic sounds that left those gorgeous lips of yours …

but he was good. well, as good as he could be. and as his fingers continued to massage your skin, he couldn’t help but picture you, your hair wild and unkempt, the straps of your dress down your arms, your skin slick with sweat as you bounced desperately on his cock. he envisioned his hands on your hips, loosely guiding you as your own hand rubbed furiously at your clit. your head tilted back as soft moans and delicious whimpers left your plump lips. plump, of course, from the number of times he had captured them in a passionate kiss, his teeth nipping at them the way he knew you liked. you were his even match, enjoying the rough as well as the gentle. but you were his, he knew you in and out, in all ways. and his filthy imagination was only running more and more wild.

more vivid scenes flash in his mind: his hand covering your mouth as he fucked you from behind in the bathroom. your arms pinned above your head as he fucked into you slow and deep, missionary style. his head between your thighs as you rode his face, using him as you saw fit until you leaned down and were generous enough to take his cock into your wet and waiting mouth …

he gripped your thigh in a vice like grip, and it caused you to finally look over at him, a small smile on your lips.

“active imagination again?” you whispered.

“you have no idea. when we get back home, you’re mine. in all ways. do i make myself clear?” he murmured back, and you took a sip of your wine before you leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“crystal.”

[chrrychills]

i know it's just a phase, you're not in love with me .

main six « alternative s/o!

ashlyn banner:

•she'll probably borrow a lot of your clothes, especially if they're baggy and loose. she doesn't consider herself alternative, but she likes baggy, thrifted clothes and affliction.

•doesn't like loud music, so she probably won't listen to any loud rock/alternative music with you. she does like shoegaze, though.

•probably listens to nirvana, but she listens to the quieter songs like polly and man who sold the world.

•if you're someone who dyes your hair frequently, she'll sit in the bathroom with you to keep you company while you do it.

•she's against giving yourself piercings (which i may or may not be guilty of) because it's unsanitary and they're more likely to get infected. she'd rather you go to an actual piercer.

•she'll ask you for music recommendations sometimes. she's liked most of the artists you put her on.

•secretly thinks you're really cool, but she'll never tell you because she doesn't want to inflate your ego.

•she starts to get more into the alternative scene the longer you two have been dating.

aiden clark:

•he's into so many alternative subcultures, it's crazy. he was lowkey really into the punk scene for a while, but he branched off into the grunge subculture after moving to georgia.

•you two can (and will) spend hours at various thrift stores, and he pays every time. you have so much vintage clothes/ crazy thrift finds because of him.

•he'll help you dye your hair, give yourself piercings, whatever. as long as you're not frying your hair off or letting the piercing get infected, he doesn't care.

•probably listens to radiohead.

• like ashlyn, he thinks you're really cool but he's super vocal about it.

•you two share jewelry. rings, necklaces, bracelets. he owns a lot of those chunky, silver rings and has a good amount of necklaces and chains, too.

•he likes to call you a poser to piss you off. it's his favorite bit and he thinks it's the funniest thing ever.

ben clark:

•it's literally impossible to put him onto any type of music, because he listens to everything. from pixies to rob zombie to cash flagg, his playlist is absolutely stacked. if anything, he's put you onto more music than you have him.

•his jeans are baggy on you, so you've stolen a couple pairs. he noticed but didn't say anything because the outfit looked good.

•he's not a huge fan of needles so he thinks piercings are kinda gross. he'll help you take care of any new ones you get, though.

•he's honestly more alternative than you are, he just doesn't show it because he doesn't care enough to put in the effort.

•he has an entire section of his closet for baggy tees and band shirts for you to borrow (steal) and ends up just buying you a bunch for your birthday.

•while he does listen to a lot of music, he refuses to listen to radiohead and he won't tell you why.

•he thought you were kind of intimidating a first, especially if you have a resting bitch face.

•he thinks you're cool and has debated on stealing your clothes/jewelry before but decided against it.

tyler hernandez:

•his teammates 100% rip on him for dating you. he snaps at them every single time they make a comment without fail.

•again, you steal his jeans because they're big on you and they look good. he will say something, though. he doesn't care but he thinks it's funny to call you out on it.

•tyler doesn't really like the music you listen to, but he doesn't mind it. he definitely wouldn't listen to it on his own, but if it's playing when he's with you he doesn't mind.

•if you're listening to a popular band (nirvana, deftones, etc.) he's so quick to go "name 5 songs." because it pisses you off and he thinks it's funny.

•he likes to mess with your (healed) piercings when he's bored, or when you two are cuddling. he'll lightly tug on them or try to take them out. you'll have to smack his hand away to get him to stop.

•he loves sitting and watching you do your makeup. he could watch you for hours and not get bored, especially because you usually ask him to do your hair after and he loves doing your hair.

•you and taylor are the only reasons he doesn't dress like a highlighter...

taylor hernandez:

•she steals a lot of your oversized shirts and sleeps in them.

•she makes jewelry, so she's constantly making you necklaces and bracelets. your accessory game is top tier because of her.

•actually really likes the music you recommend her! taylor probably listens to pop. chappell roan, gracie abrams, taylor swift, and other similar artists so you're surprised when you find her playlist of all the rock/grunge music you've sent her.

•loves thrifting. like aiden, you two can spend hours in different stores and leave with trash bags of clothing. she's an absolute machine at the goodwill bins.

•when (if) she returns the shirts she stole from you, there's a good chance she cut the neckline off of them. they always look really good, so you don't complain.

•100% will do your makeup if you ask her to. she's amazing at it and it usually looks better than when you do it yourself.

•taylor's a great artist, so she likes to doodle on your jeans with sharpie and it makes them look really cool so you let her do it.

logan fields:

•yall are the definition of opposites attract. your aesthetics clash like crazy, but you two make it work.

•like ashlyn, he's not a huge fan of loud rock/grunge/metal music because it gives him headaches. he likes calmer songs and instrumentals.

•honestly, he steals a lot of your jewelry. his hands are filled with your rings and he has a couple of your bracelets on each of his wrists.

•he helps you decide what color to dye your hair, and goes on a mission to help you find the color. he'll sit in the bathroom with you while you dye it, but he won't help because he doesn't wanna mess it up.

•lowkey a weezer fan.

•he wears the comfiest clothes ever, so you steal his shirts/sweaters and wear them to bed a lot. he goes red every time he sees you in his clothes, no matter how many times it's happened.

•another one who thinks you're super cool. he'll tell you this, but he's gonna get embarrassed because he doesn't wanna sound corny.

lacey's notes:

hi can u guys tell i didn't edit this😁

also i'm gonna start putting the songs i use for my titles in my posts so ppl can listen to them if they want

if you've requested i promise i got it i just have no motivation to write requests

title inspired by:

[sunny44]

Marriage (Part 9)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader

Warnings: nothing

Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Since the day we argued, Mason had been staying at Ben's house and I had been alone since then.

The test was still in the drawer and I hadn't looked at it yet.

Since the fight, I hadn't had the courage to look, and I didn't want to do it alone.

Not without him.

I knew he wasn't thrilled about me coming to Monaco with him, but since we had already agreed that both of us would go and it would be strange if only he showed up, I ended up going too.

This time, Phil and Ruben were joining us.

Mase and I were sitting side by side, but it felt like we were miles apart.

When we arrived at the hotel, we were obviously in the same room. I dropped the bags in the corner and sat on the bed.

"Can we talk?"

"I'm heading for a shower now."

“Mase.”

“Please, don’t do this right now.”he said, entering the bathroom.

I sighed defeated and held back tears, mainly because the fault for us being like this was mine.

I kept thinking that if I had told him the truth none of this would’ve happened, the fact that I hurt him makes me sick.

So I decided to leave the room and go to the restaurant to eat something because I was very hungry. I sat at a table as discreet as possible and ordered a burger.

"Can I join you?" I heard a voice and saw Max.

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"Please?"

"Look, I don't want to be rude, but I'm not in a good mood and you've caused me a lot of problems lately."

"What do you mean?" He said, sitting. "Is everything okay?"

"Mason found your letter." I said, looking at him. "And we're not doing well."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Apparently, it is."

"In this case, it's not." I sighed. "You apologized many times and I decided to keep dwelling on the past and not forgive."

"You're upset, and rightfully so. I hurt you, and I'm sorry for that." He said. “You don’t need to accept my apologies if you don’t feel like forgiving me.

"I know you're sorry and even though I have every reason to be upset, I choose to keep remembering our situation and Instead of moving on and stop dwelling on all the bad things that happened to me and that’s why I ended up missing out on the good things in my life." I sighed. "I wasn't unhappy. I found someone who loves me for who I am, and I didn't appreciate that. I preferred to dwell on the past instead of focusing on the future, and here I am."

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"Do you really love Mason? Because if the answer is yes, you should go after him." He spoke calmly. "But if the answer is no because you still feel something for me, even if it's minimal, I want you to know that I still love you, and if you want to give me a chance, I'm here."

I didn't say anything, just sighed, and at that moment, my burger arrived.

"Thank you.” I thanked the waiter.

"I'll be in my room." he said, getting up. "If you show up there, I know we still have a chance. But if you don't show up, I'll understand that you chose him."

"Max."

"Just think about it, please." he said and left me alone with my thoughts.

Bonus scene!

Masonmount instagram stories

“Another weekend, another F1 GP”

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @christianpulisic10 @gaslysainz @fanboyluvr @urgirlceci @justdreamersdream @aundercoverosh @newlifeforus @depressedriches @topguncultleader @luvrrish @tyna-19 @esposadomd @formulas-bitch

Just to let you guys know, I will write to part’s 10, one is with a Max ending and the other one is with a Mason ending.

[chrliekclly]

if you ever want to talk about your thoughts on joyce .. Peeks over the corner of your blog. i love talking and hearing ppls thoughts on joyce sooo much even if they're different from my own!! and your analysis and stuff is always so well thought out

i hope u dont mind if i answer this publicly to take advantage of th request nd get my ideas out ther (also tyvm im happy u like my insane takes on these idiots, iv ben thinking abt them for almost 10 years)

i said a lot here so gnna 'read more' it

iv ben building trans charlie n my head fr, like i said, nearly 10 years. i used to view him as cis bcuz i always try to take as much frm th source material as i can wen i craft my HCs nd i had v personal (stupid) hangups insofar as him explicitly referring to his junk multiple times nd bottom surgery simply not being on my radar as a naive littl trans idiot deep in th sauce tht transmen oftn fall into w phallo being viewed so so poorly

evn still i leaned towards transmasc charlie nd always lovd moments tht let me imagine, for a moment, it being true, like his discomfort w taking off his shirt [hundred dollar baby, charlie kelly: king of the rats, the gang exploits the mortgage crisis, young charlie and mac deleted scenes, etc etc etc], or bonnie yelling abt ppl stealing her "charlie-girl" [the waitress is getting married] which i lovd to see as her accidentally misgendering him while drunk off her ass.

having grown out of my phallo issues (nd if ur reading this and u still view phallo super poorly, please do some research and grow too), ive in recent years fully subscribed to transmasc/nb charlie, and view his timeline something like this:

baby -> elementary: charlie refers to himself as a boy, doesnt "come out," simply has no idea he's afab. bonnie lets him dress however he wants and refers to him as asked. when charlie gets confused about his genitals, bonnie says his dick will grow in later lol, makes charlie wear a dress in public restrooms and tells him its just a game

middle: puberty hits and charlie gets confused and scared. bonnie puts him on blockers w.o explaining them ("my mom used to vaccinate me like every month" [the gang gets quarantined]) charlie goes on content and oblivious. STP acquired because hes "a late bloomer" and his dicks still not growing in?? weird. confides this in mac once, but he doesn't understand.

high: charlie finally registers that he's trans after forgetting theres a health class 1 day and not being able to skip it. throws him for a loop a bit but he becomes actively invested in his goals. he gets to start T and wants to have surgeries. "what guy hasnt done some extensive research on his own genitalia?" [mac is a serial killer]

college (aged): able to surgically transition (ty medicare) and continues on with life as we kno him now

joyce, imo, fits neatly into these views.

as a transmasc nb who came out young nd prefers to be seen as just A Guy by strangers, i grew up v vehemently against anything girly that might get me misgendered, but th more i began to 'pass,' th more @ home n my body i felt, th more and more comfortable i am w femininity, th more i wdnt mind putting on a dress, as long as th general public wd see me as "a man in women's clothes." n my mind, i prescribe something not exactly th same but v similar to charlie.

i see charlie "i dont really identify" kelly as afab and nb. i see joyce as a "character" he originally created to distance himself from the dysphoria of putting on a dress as a young trans boy, but that became part of him as the hard lines he drew in the sand as a child became blurry with age and self acceptance. charlie's comfort with himself allows joyce to evolve into a more solid persona, one he enjoys embodying and allowing to become a permanent facet of who he is. he's ok with being referred to as either. they're both him.

so maybe joyce comes out a bit more outside of the bathroom now.

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find Part 3

Synopsis: Ben has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job

CW: blood mention, wound care

Part one here:

Ben’s job offered him a transfer  to another bank in the city but he declined. Despite jumping every time the automatic doors opened, he figured lightning wouldn’t strike twice and Adam’s team wouldn’t target this bank a second time.

The next couple of weeks were almost unbearable.

That next morning Adam returned Ben’s phone with all the nonchalance as if he just merely updated it. Ben snooped around a bit but couldn’t see anything new in his apps. Of course, he wasn’t a programmer like Adam was. God only knew what spy-ware Adam put on his phone and he had no hope of getting rid of it.

To Adam’s credit, he tried valiantly to act as if nothing happened.  He did dishes without complaint, always cleaned the bathroom to spotless perfection when it was his turn, sat in the living room with one of their favorite shows on or Mario Kart to tempt Ben into the living room.

But Ben did not know how to act. It wasn’t even that Adam had gotten himself involved with bad people who robbed banks and shot guns at innocent bank tellers like Ben. It was that Adam would threaten to kill him at a moment’s notice. That Adam felt comfortable and skilled with a knife at someone’s throat.

It felt like living with Jekyll and Hyde and he didn’t know when Other Adam, Knife Happy Adam, would leap out again. So Ben played the Normal Game for as long as he could stand it, which was approximately the length of dinner and maybe one youtube video before he disappeared back into his bedroom. Sometimes Adam would try to coax him out again with temptations such as running down the street for ice cream or renting a movie that just came to streaming, all things Ben would have loved to do Before and now which he declined.

Eventually Adam stopped asking. Eventually they both played the We Pretend We Don’t Have a Roommate Game. Adam disappeared from the living room, coming home late at night or sometimes into the next afternoon.

Ben avoided the news as much as possible because he didn’t want to know but he couldn’t help overhear what coworkers and customers talked about: bombed warehouses and robberies and a body or two in the streets.

Each time he heard something the guilt and fear of his secret burned up his throat like acid. It felt like it was stamped on his forehead, that anyone looking under the shaggy bangs he needed to trim would see it, spelled out to the world.

A month of this passed in slow agony. Ben missed the Before so much he dreamed about it, about the whole thing being some elaborate joke or nightmare and  he could return to a life where his biggest problem was hiding his stupid gay crush on his roommate.

A month passed and then Adam didn’t come home for two days. Ben paced the living room for two nights, gnawing his nails down to stubs and wondering if he should put in a missing person’s report or if that would just make the whole situation worse.

And then Adam stumbled in at 1 in the morning, covered in blood.

“Holy shit,” Ben yelped.

Adam looked like a zombie extra in a movie, shuffling on wounded leg, blood splattered down his neck. It’d almost be funny if it wasn’t so heart-sickeningly real.

“I’m   — I’m fine,” he mumbled, staggering to the shower.

Fine? Fine? Ben stood right in front of the shower door as the water ran, listening for the tell tale thump of a body falling. He didn’t hear that, but he did hear several pained grunts and hissed curses.   

Did he need the hospital? Would he even let Ben take him to the hospital? Oh god, what if he died in the apartment? How the fuck was Ben supposed to explain that? How was he supposed to live with himself, ignoring his best friend the last month of his life instead of trying to — to —

The water shut off and the door wrenched open, steam billowing around Adam wrapped in a towel. The blood was gone save for scrapes and cuts that still wept.

“We still have that first aid kit, right?” he asked.

Like he scraped his knee playing basketball at the park.

“Yeah,” Ben said faintly.  

“Cool.” He waited a moment and then cocked an eyebrow. “Are you . . .going to move? It fucking hurts to stand right now.”

That kick-started the panicked fog in his brain.

“Sorry! Shit. Okay. Just sit on the couch and I’ll get the — the —“

He didn’t bother finishing, zipping out to the kitchen, where he kept the kit stashed above the fridge. Thank God he kept it stocked, knowing how often he nicked himself cutting vegetables. Not that the stuff in here would help much if Adam needed stitches.

Adam leaned back on the couch, chest shuddering with his breathing, his mouth pinched in a tight, painful line. Ben perched himself on the edge of the coffee table and plucked out the pain killers first out of the kit. Adam dry swallowed them before Ben could offer water.

“Go to bed,” Adam said tersely. “You don’t need to see this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Ben. “You’re hurt really bad. Maybe we should go to the —“

“Don’t. Don’t you dare even suggest that.”

“What if you die?”

Adam snorted. “I’m not going to die. Just get me a warm wet washcloth and pass me the antibiotic cream.”

Happy to have something small and manageable to do, Ben immediately complied. He picked the softest, most worn out washcloth they had and soaked it in warm water. When he returned, Adam was already dabbing at a scrap on his knee with rubbing alcohol and hissing. He took the proffered washcloth with barely a glance at Ben, using it to rub away the excess blood that had started to leak from a gash on his side.

“What happened?” Ben asked.

“You don’t want to know. I just . . .wasn’t fast enough this time.”

“This time?”

Adam gave him a flat look, as if to say Quit asking, I’m not telling you shit.

“You don’t have to stay up, Ben. Really. I can take care of this. I’ve done it many times before.”

That’s not reassuring Ben thought. It was heartbreaking.

“I can help,” he said.

“I don’t want you to help.”

“Too bad.”

Feeling daring, he took a cotton ball and smeared the cream on it before dabbing it onto a scrape on the back of Adam’s forearm. To his surprise, Adam allowed it, propping his arm on his knee and watching been with those keen eyes.

This was not the time to pop a timid, curious boner but dear Jesus.

Whatever Adam had been doing the last several months had whittled his body away into a lean, muscular machine, so much of it on display dressed in just a towel. He had to lean in , smelling Adam’s body wash and the sharp scene of the alcohol, getting close enough to see the light constellation of scars on Adam’s chest and arms.

It all felt strangely intimate, the only light coming from the dim glow of the living room lamp. Their breathing the only sound in the room.

Once he was done with the arm, he taped gauze to it and wrapped it. Adam held perfectly still, his gaze a heavy weight that Ben could not hold. When Ben finished and started to pull (reluctantly) away, Adam’s hand darted out and gripped his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Ben chanced a glance at Adam and flinched at the intensity he saw.  

 “Don’t,” he said, swallowing. He took the hope in his chest and crushed it. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for. You just . . . want to manipulate me into liking you again.”

“I know what I did. It was wrong. You didn’t deserve it.”

“And yet you still did it. You didn’t even think first.”

“I was afraid.”

Now Ben gave him a flat stare of disbelief. “You? Afraid of me?”

The fucking audacity when Adam put a knife to his throat.

“You were never supposed to find out. I didn’t plan on it. I didn’t know how to react.”

“You have a plan for everything.”

“I never know what I’m doing when it comes to you,” Adam said softly.

Ben froze, his mind drawing  conclusions he didn’t dare to dwell on. “What does that mean?”

Adam went silent. The bright intensity of his emotions shuttered off in his eyes,  like a shade being drawn.  

“I was bluffing,” he said, voice calm and even. “I don’t need a knife to hurt you. But the threat should have been a last resort and I’m sorry. It was a knee jerk reaction and you didn’t deserve it. You’ve been nothing but a loyal friend and good roommate.”

Disappointment — stupid disappointment that came from a hope he should have never fostered, not even for a second — tugged down like a lead balloon in his chest.

“Good roommates are hard to find,” he added softly.

Adam’s mouth curled up in a wistful smile. “Exactly.”

Ben tried to pull his hand away again, but Adam didn’t let go.

“Ben,” he said softly, squeezing Ben’s wrist until he looked up. “It will never happen again, okay? You don’t need to walk on eggshells around me.”

“Okay,” Ben said, nodding.

Later that night, as he tumbled into bed sometime past two in the morning, he could hear Adam’s voice echoing in his head.

I don’t need a knife to hurt you

God, how true that was, in ways Adam would never know.

Taglist: @itsmyworld23

Part 4 Here

[pimosworld]

Pairing-Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary-Frankie comforts you during that time of the month.

CW-Tooth rotting fluff,mentions of sex but no smut, Frankie being the best partner anyone could ask for. Reader is not described but has a period every month, pet names, mentions of blood (of course).

WK-898

A/N- inspired by @beefrobeefcal he’s not quite chubby but he’s Frankie nonetheless. It’s so hard for me to write while I’m on my period because the cramps make me lose focus but this definitely helped in some placebo effect way. @triplefrontier-anniversary

Not beta read

At your service

Frankie rolls over to find your side of the bed uncharacteristically cool for a Saturday morning. Sleeping in and cuddling until you had to pry yourselves out of bed was one of your favorite rituals on the weekend. It’s too early and the only light illuminating the room is leaking out from the bottom of the bathroom door. 

  He can hear some sniffles and a groan and he’s throwing back the covers in a panic as he leaps out of bed. He tries the door and it’s locked causing him to panic even further. 

  “Hermosa, you okay in there?” His voice laced with concern echoing through the wall. 

  “Don’t come in Frankie…it’s a murder scene in here.” You groan to yourself again as you hear him try the door handle again. 

  He quickly realizes what predicament you’re in. He should’ve known your period was coming. You’re like clockwork each month, and instead of subjecting him to your dreaded pms you tend to shut yourself off the days leading up to it. Trying to stay busy at work or telling him to hang out with the guys so you can rage in peace. It’s still something you’re working on after all these years with him. Not understanding that he’s going to take the good with the bad and not be like your shitty ex who would make snide comments about your time of the month. 

  “Honey, I’ve seen much more blood than whatever you’ve got going on right now.”

  “I beg to differ.” You whine and he tries not to laugh, that would most certainly not make the situation any better. 

  You finally open the door and he’s met with the most pathetic site as you stand there with fresh tears in your eyes and one of his large tee shirts draped over your body. He’s only seen deeper frown lines on Santiago. 

  He pulls you into his chest as you try to wrap your arms around his larger frame, your body goes willingly limp as he rubs your head and rocks you back and forth. He’s so warm and smells like fresh laundry and you swear your hormones play evil tricks on you each month because you’ve never wanted him more than when you’re on your period. Despite his endless hours of showing you how much he appreciated your body and your mind and whatever else came with your emotions, you still weren’t comfortable having sex during these few days. 

  You had once or twice before with Frankie but he never pushed you if you weren’t feeling up to it. 

  “Vamos hermosa, let’s get you back to bed.” He kisses your forehead and waddles you to the bed, tucking you safely under the covers. “I’ll grab your heating pad and some water.” He kisses you again and you go tight lipped trying not to cry. 

  “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks as more tears spill and he pulls back from you visibly confused at your reaction. “We were supposed to go to the beach for Benny’s birthday.” 

  He tuts and pulls you back into him mumbling into your neck. “I don’t want to go to the stupid beach and get sand in my ass anyway.” Your wet laugh rumbles against him and he can breathe a small sigh of relief. 

  ****

  You can hear him in the hallway on the phone as he returns from downstairs. 

  “You owe me anyways pendejo, I covered for you last week, remember?” 

  You can hear him rest his head on the bedroom door as he huffs out. 

  “Ben, it's been way too long, you need to learn some Spanish…I gotta go, promise I’ll make it up to you soon.” 

  He opens the door with an arm full of way more than two items. He sets down the water bottle with fresh ice and dumps the rest of the contents on the bed. You giggle at the sheer amount of items but cover your mouth when he sends you a warning look. 

  He sets up your heating pad and explains everything down to a tee just like the military man that he is. It didn’t take long for you to realize how much he enjoyed taking care of you so those arguments stopped early on. 

  “I’ve got your sleep mask you left on the couch, you should get some more rest.” He hands you some pain medication and your water and you take it obediently. “I’ve also got a snack for when you wake up.” He sets the granola bar on the side table along with your phone charger, before turning off the bathroom light and rejoining you in the bed. 

  You can hear him warming up his calloused hands as he rubs them together under the covers before draping them across your belly. The only time of the month you’d allow him to rub your belly. Something he’d allow you to do to him everyday. 

  You’re perfectly content again as you resume your Saturday morning cuddles with the love of your life. 

  “Frankie?” You ask sleepily as he hums behind you. “What did you cover up for Benny last week?” 

  “Go to sleep hermosa, sweet dreams.” He kisses your neck as he pretends to start snoring and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up inside you. 

  “Fine, you keep your secrets. You’re lucky I love you.” 

 “Te amo tambíen.” 

[hopepaigeturner]

How would you like the writer of Bridgerton to write Bath scene in AOFAG if s4 is going to be Benedicts season

For the most patient nonny who must have waited atleast a year for me to answer this. I present...

An Offer From An Avid Reader: The Bath Scene.

That's right, it's finally here. All 4000 words of it.

NOTE: I do not write smut, however this has some heavy implications of sexy shenanigans so I am rating this a 15+

Right, let's get to it.

✨The Context✨

This is not necessarily a scene, but more the 'bath sequence' as I shall call it for there are some humorous asides that add to the bathroom scene itself.

Also, as in the books, this scene takes place after the jail scene, but there are a couple tweaks:

The bath scene takes place at Bridgerton House not at Benedict’s bachelor lodgings. It takes place in a bathroom that is connected to two rooms that used to be Eloise’s and Francesca’s shared bathroom.

My jail-break scene is split into two so it’s not an info dump. So what’s happened is all the elements of the jail scene: Benophie reunites, the impromptu proposal, Posy swooping in and saving everyone while the magistrate slowly loses the will to live…But no Violet vs. Araminta showdown. Araminta hasn’t been blackmailed—sorry persuaded—to keep Sophie’s heritage a secret or announce her as legitimate.

Therefore, Benophie are still headed towards their original destination—living a modest life after being cast out by polite society, due to the indecency of Sophie’s heritage.

Finally, pre-jail scene, the last scene Benophie would have been in together was the sofa scene (read part 1 here, and part 2 here). They literally haven’t talked since then other than Benedict sending Sophie a letter she never read.

Hence this scene is still romantic, and will get steamy, but also a lot of unresolved conflict will be sorted out. And starting out both Ben and Sophie haven’t really been able to calm down over the last two days…

✨The Scene✨

Kate is the one who finally shoos everyone out of the bathroom after noticing how Sophie is utterly overwhelmed.

Sophie finally shuts the doors and rests her head on them. The viewer sees unshed tears in her eyes as the emotions of the last couple hours—and even the last few days—threaten to burst out of her.

Then she hears a knock from the other side of the bathroom.

“Sophie?”

Sophie almost seems to collapse in relief, instantly drawn to the other side of the bathroom.

“Benedict?”

“I am here.” The camera switches to the other side of the door, where Benedict stands. Benedict puts a hand on the wood. “I do not need to come in, but I just…” he puts his head on the door.

The camera shows both sides of the door, Benophie pressed up against each side in mirror positions--a slab of wood preventing them from resting their foreheads on each other. Just as they were at the end of the sofa scene.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe…that you were…” Benedict’s voice catches on the thousand scenarios still reeling in his head, “that you were here.”

“I am here.”

“I know. I know.” Ben’s smile is small but fleeting. He takes a shuddering breath. “I shall leave you and give you some peace—”

“Please do not leave me,” Sophie says her voice small, but sure. “Please come in.” And with that she unlocks the door.

Benedict stares at the door. A door that Sophie has chosen to unlock—for him.

With reverence, he walks in to find Sophie some paces away, her dressing gown clutched around her.

For a moment they stare, then they soften. And then there is a blur and they are in each other’s arms, tears streaming down both their faces. With Benedict buried in the crook of her shoulder crying.

“I am so sorry, I am so sorry.”

They separate slightly, foreheads pressed together, eyes still closed.

“No, I should be the one apologising…”

“No, no I must apologise.” Benedict says, his voice clogged with unshed tears, “I told you that I would protect you, I promised to keep you safe and I could not, she…she could have…” he shudders, “I am so sorry.”

“Benedict, Benedict, no.” Sophie cradles his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “You came back for me, you rescued me.”

Benedict shakes his head,

“Posy was far more significant in that matter.”

“That is not what I meant.” Sophie takes his hand and places it on her heart. “You saved me here. Your love…your words…your deeds helped me.”

Sophie herself shudders as she recounts,

“Before you arrived, Araminta found me, and she taunted me with all her usual tricks and barbs that she has inflicted upon me since I was a child. And in the past, they have worked…you see, for my entire life, all those who were supposed to love me, would always step away: my father, Araminta and my stepsisters. And I would try so, so hard, but all I seemed to do was make people miserable and I think…” Sophie’s voice becomes clogged, but she continues, “I think I started to believe a long, long time ago that I could not be worthy of love, that I did not…that such things could not be for someone like me.”

“That is not true—”

Sophie puts her fingers on his lips and Benedict stills.

“I am coming to understand that. I am starting to believe so…and part of that is because of you.”

Benedict shakes his head emphatically, Sophie smiles.

“I said part, not the whole. What you did, as you do for so many others, is help me unveil the truth within myself. And the truth within myself is that…” Sophie smiles brilliantly, “I am more than a bastard. I am a woman with convictions. I am a woman who is kind regardless of the consequences or my past. I am a dear friend and confidante. And I am loved. I am loved by Ginny and your sisters and Kate and your mother and the servants like Mrs Gibbons and you…I am loved by you.

You, who has never stepped away from me but always embraced me. You, who loved me in a silver dress and then again in a maid’s uniform. You, who still rushed into a prison even after my cowardice spurned you so deeply. So, when Araminta lashed me with those old insults and barbs, I saw them clearly for the first time—as lies—just as I saw myself as clearly as well. I am Sophia Maria Beckett, the woman who loves and the woman who is loved. And your words helped me come to that conclusion, even if they were only one piece of the puzzle. So, there is no need to apologise, only for you to receive my gratitude and my love.”

She continues to smile, while Benedict gapes.

“You are a marvel,” Benedict breathes, eyes filled with wonder. “And there are so many reasons why I love you. But one of the things I love best, is that you know yourself. You have principles, you have spirit and a strength that is ever so rare.” He touches her delicately, not because she is so brittle that she will break, but because she is the most precious of jewels, “I am sorry for asking you to be my mistress.”

“You have already apologised.”

“Not truly, nor sincerely.”

“And what else was a man of your position to do?”

“While that may be true it was not fair, especially when I was so pig headed at hearing your refusal.  You were correct, I was ignorant of our positions. I would die before sharing you, so why should I have expected you to share me when I was forced to marry?”

“In a perfect world we could have married, we could have just been Sophie and Benedict. But in this world men like you do not marry—”

“None of what I said weeks ago, in my lodgings, have changed. I do not care that we cannot live in London, I do not care what Lady Penwood might spread or what doors are barred to us. Over these past days, these past weeks, the conviction that first whispered on my heart has been carved deeper and deeper; that when I think about what I need in my life—not want but need—all I think of is you. Only you, it always has and will always be, you.”

It is Sophie’s turn to stare, her eyes widening to drink in a new expanse of emotion, just as her heart tries to hold the enormity of his words. But his words are like monsoon rain on parched land, and so, her eyes water.

Benedict softly wipes the tears away and Sophie can smile. 

“Such sentiment explains your little announcement.”

“I know I was presumptuous in the jail, and you deserve much more—”

“Benedict—” She holds his face, “I wish to marry you also. I love you, only you.”

Benedict’s breath hitches, before he sweeps her in his arms.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, so, so much,” he cries as Sophie giggles in his arms. “You make me the happiest man alive.”

Benedict surges up and kisses her and with a final spin they return to the ground. Although they stay clasped together, rocking in the momentum of that joy, the surety of their love finally realised. Benedict buries his nose in the crook of her shoulder, inhaling the presence of her. And as he inhales, his nose scrunches…

“Sophie, I love you,”

“Mhmm.”

“But you do smell.” He whispers, kissing her cheek. Sophie pulls away and sniffs her shoulder.

“Oh gosh, I do! Well, that is what sleeping on the floor for two days does for you.”

At his stricken face she says, a little quieter,

“One day we shall laugh about it.”

“But not quite yet,” Benedict replies softly.

“Not quite yet.” She kisses him softly before extracting herself, looking over to the bath. “Oh, there are bubbles!” she turns to him with a childish awe, “I have never had a bath with bubbles before.”

Benedict smiles. They will probably never joke about her past—but he could ensure that the rest of her life would be full of laughter and love.

Sophie goes up to the bath, her hands fiddling with the tie of the dressing gown. Benedict turns away.

“That is very gallant of you.”

“I am a gentleman.”

“I would not mind; you are to be my husband after all.”

Benedict scrunches his eyes shut and almost groans, his resistance waning. Perhaps the audience might see him mouthing:

You are a gentleman. You are a gentleman.

“This is my mother’s house,” he manages to choke out.

“As you desire.”

He hears the thump of the dressing gown, the ripple of her limbs entering the water and he bites his lips to keep himself in check. But, he cannot restrain his eyes from wandering over his shoulder…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I am glad that all is well,” Kate sighs, resting on Anthony as they stand with the rest of the family in Bridgerton House’s parlour.

“Yes, Sophie is safe,” Anthony replies, fingers idly tracing up and down Kate’s spine. “And they shall be happily married,” he acknowledges Kate’s raised eyebrow. “With the family’s blessing and my own. But we must prepare for the oncoming storm. I doubt Lady Penwood is a woman who enjoys being thwarted nor hesitates from ensuring she has the final word.”

“There must be some way to mitigate the damage…” Kate falls silent for a moment. Then she perks up, her eyes sparkling, “I have an idea—I must go talk to your mother.” She kisses his cheek and rushes over to Violet. Anthony watches on baffled, as his mother and wife start a hushed, but fervent, conversation. In curiosity he walks closer.

Just then a maid, Nadia, enters the room with a gown. Only then does Kate break from the conversation to nod at the dress.

“Very good, Nadia. Take it up to the Lady Francesca’s old room, for Miss Beckett is bathing in the rose bathroom.” The maid curtsies then exits.

“The rose bathroom?” Violet asks, brow furrowed. “Not the jasmine bedroom? Is that not our best spare room?”

“No, Anthony directed the servants to ready a bath in the rose bathroom for some reason…” Kate trails off, then turns to her husband. “Anthony, why did you not send the servants to the jasmine bedroom?”

Anthony gulps.

“I just…it was the first thought in my head,” he rambles.

“And why should Sophie be relegated to the opposite wing of the house?” Eloise pipes up. “She is to be family; it makes perfect sense for her to be in the family wing. I do not mind sharing the bathroom once more, after all, Frannie and I managed for years.”

His mother turns to Anthony with accusatory eyes. A look that was always followed by an admonishing ‘Anthony!’ ever since he could reach his father’s knee. Anthony swallows thickly.

“Come to think of it--where is Benedict?” Colin asks, sharing a conspirators look with his wife.

“I sent him to rest. He has not slept these last two days,” Anthony tries to ignore how pitchy his voice sounds.

“Anthony!” His mother cries.

“Ah a wise decision. I am sure, Benedict is in need of some…relaxation.”

“Colin Bridgerton!” Violet cries.

“All I am saying is that after everything, the poor pair deserve a little…release.” Colin shrugs, getting a muffled scoff from Penelope whose eyes are alit with delight.

“Oh, I cannot believe you all,” Their mother grouses, pulling up her gloves as if going into battle. Indeed, she starts to stalk out of the room.

Thankfully, Kate arrests her before she can exit.

“Violet, you must allow it, just this once.”

“What exactly is happening? Do I need to go and check on Sophie?” Eloise cries, standing to attention.

“There is no use. Knowing Benedict, it would be unwise to appear unannounced,” Colin continues, Penelope barely able to hide her giggles behind her teacup. “Goodness knows what position they shall be in.”

Penelope spits out her tea.

“Colin Bridgerton!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sophie blows softly, and the pile of bubbles in her hand disperses into the air.

“Lean forward, please.” She obeys and allows Benedict to rinse the rest of the soap off her back. Then she hums as his hands start massaging her shoulders.

“Hmmm, this feels wonderful.”

“I am glad. Can I wash your hair?”

“Ofcourse.”

“Dunk please.”

Sophie obeys, eyes shutting, body loosening. She lifts up and Benedict starts to create a lather of soap in her hair, the movement of his hands hypnotic. All adding to the gentle, warm lull of the atmosphere. Sophie takes a sniff of her hair.

“Better than lake water?” Benedict asks with a grin, recalling that day on the lake all those months ago.

“Absolutely—lavender, pretty.” Sophie grins up at him, before dunking her hair and washing the soap from it.

"Your hair used to be longer," Benedict muses, hands running through the wet strands. Sophie closes her eyes and tips her head back into his touch.

"It was, but I had to sell it to a wigmaker."

Benedict's hands retreat. Sophie lifts her head up--slightly bewildered--until Benedict gently turns her face to him, staring deep into her eyes.

"You will want for nothing," Benedict says, as solemn as a vow, and Sophie's throat burns with emotion. Her hand reaches out to trace the curve of his cheek, her own words just as weighty,

"As long as I have you, I will want for nothing."

“You have me, heart and soul.”

“As you have me, heart and soul.”

The solemnity warms until they are smiling sweetly at one another, Sophie gently leans in and kisses him.

“Are you sure you do not wish to get in?”

“Absolutely not, I am quite enjoying myself here.” Benedict grins then returns to his prior position, “I like pampering you.” At this he starts massaging her again, causing Sophie to moan slightly.

“You must be careful, Mr Bridgerton, otherwise I might want such treatment every night of our marriage.”

“And I would gladly do so. But is there anything else you want Mrs Bridgerton?”

“What else could I want? What else could we want?”

“Well…I want to spend an afternoon by a lake. You would be reading, I would be sketching, and whenever we got too warm we would slip into the water to cool off.” His voice pitches low, “then I would carry you from the water and make love to you on the shore.”

Sophie tries to swallow her flush,

“You have given this a lot of thought.”

“I have had a thousand nights of dreams about my Lady in Silver,” he kisses one shoulder, “and Sophie Beckett,” he kisses the other shoulder.

Sophie’s breath catches, her eyes fixed in the distance—as if looking at a shimmering future that she can finally believe is no longer a mirage.

“Tell me more,” she whispers, hoarsely.

“I want to hold your hand in the street and in church, and in the market, where I buy you pretty ribbons for your hair. I want to bring you breakfast in bed.”

“Misshapen eggs?”

Benedict chuckles,

“Misshapen eggs and all.” He replies, then turns a little more solemn, eyes lost in the future he paints with his words,

“I want to go on rambling walks where the conversation never ends. I want us to come home to our little cottage or flat or whatever home we can afford, and dance together in our kitchen,” he swallows thickly, “I want to hold you as the embers die down in the fireplace, and I want to wake up next to you every morning even when we’re grey or we only have a couple moments before our children jump on the bed. I want to love you more and more every day and take care of you and give you anything you want.” His hands tremble with emotion, like his voice. “That is what I want…So, what is it you want?” he kisses below her ear, looking at her.

Sophie’s eyes shiver in the silence, she plays with some errant bubbles floating in the water.

“You have such a way with words and I…” her voice dies down, “it has been a long time since I have been allowed to want, let alone been asked.”

Benedict’s eyes soften with understanding. Gently he tilts her chin up.

“It does not need to be much or many, just whatever is on your heart.”

Sophie lingers in the sincerity of his eyes, far more powerful orators than his beautiful poetry. So, haltingly, she starts,

“I want to be loved. I want to love…I want to wake up in your arms every morning with the knowledge that I am safe. I want to laugh. I want to be held and comforted no matter how violent the storm. I want our children to be smothered in love and never know what it is to be hungry or cold or unwanted. I want to be by your side as your talent grows and love you through all manner of strife. I want a life with you by my side, whether we live in a palace or a poorhouse. I just want you.”

Benedict swoops down for a plundering kiss that spins the world around them. When they break Benedict whispers,

“I will give you all of it.” His voice rumbles against her lips. “You deserve the world, my goddess, my Queen.”

“I do not want the world; I just want Benedict.”

He moans at that, and they kiss once more, Sophie lifting herself out of the bathtub to gain purchase. Both are gasping when they part, and the words fall out of Sophie’s mouth.

“I want you to join me.”

Benedict's eyes darken, his smirk widening as he stands and turns away to strip.

"I would like to watch".

Benedict looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. Sophie swallows, then stares him down with a burning intensity that is starting to settle in her stomach.

"I want to watch you."

So, he turns, and slowly unbuttons his shirt, basking in Sophie’s lascivious gaze as he moves to snapping off his breeches before unthreading the buttons of his breeches. Before the final button he looks at Sophie for permission, she nods.

Then he is bare, and her breath hitches.

“I assume this is the first one you have seen?”

Sophie nods mutely.

“The first you will touch?”

She nods.

“The first you will take?”

Sophie nods, eyes wide.

“As long as it will fit.”

Benedict kisses her gently, and ensures she looks him in the eye when he says,

“You lead, I follow. Whatever you want, whenever you want, at your pace. But I can promise,” a kiss on her jaw. “that on our wedding night,” a kiss on the corner of her mouth, “I will be gentle, so all you feel is exceptional.” Another kiss that turns molten all too quickly. “Now, what is it you want?”

“For the final time, for you to get in the bloody bath,” she huffs, trying to pull him in. He chuckles then climbs in, sitting behind her, pressing themselves against each other.

Sophie’s breath hitches.

“Better?” he whispers.

“Much.”

He turns her chin, so they look at one another. His eyes are blown wide and so startingly blue that they transfix her. Benedict nods.

Sophie raises a hand to link it with one of his. Then, still staring deeply in his eyes, she traces their hands over her body until it cups her breast.

“I want you here.”

He squeezes and she gasps.

“Yes?”

She reaches back once more, for the final hand, lacing their fingers together.

“And I want,” she trails their clasped hands over her stomach until it dips under the water, “you here,” she gasps, eyes drowning in Benedict’s blue ones, as he starts his ministrations.

Yet they do not stop staring, not even when they kiss...

Not as Sophie writhes more and more in his arms, nor as Benedict’s hips start to buck. Even as Sophie turns around to straddle him, they keep their eyes locked together. Even as Sophie braces one hand on his shoulder, the other sinking below to find him in the soapy water. Even when their kisses turn messy and open-mouthed.

“I want you,” Benedict pants as they both start to reach their peak, “I want all of you.”

“I want all of you,” Sophie keens. “And you have me, all of me.”

“And you have me, all of me,” he whispers. “You are mine and I am yours.”

Finally, her eyes close as she shudders from the climax. Benedict surges up and smothers his own releasing moan with her lips.

The water settles, as the couple settle—even though they can barely control their panting breaths or racing heartbeats.

“God, I cannot wait to marry you,” Benedict mumbles.

“How long must we wait?”

“A few weeks—three at the least.”

“So long?” Sophie huffs. Benedict chuckles. “Then I suppose we shall have to make do with moments like this,” Sophie leans forward with a spark in her eye, “I am sure there is much, much more I can learn…”

Benedict leans forward also, a rakish smirk on his face.

“What a wonderful idea Mrs—"

Someone hammers on the door.

“Sophie!”

Benedict and Sophie snap up, eyes wide.

“S—t.” Sophie swears.

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Eloise, please—”

Eloise rips away from Kate’s arm to wiggle the lock.

“I must ensure that my brother is not befouling Sophie!” she cries. With a final click, and one final kick, Eloise bangs the door open and strides in.

“Eloise, what on earth?” Sophie asks from the bathtub, where she sits—alone. Eloise strides further into the room, scouting around the furniture, even behind the bath.

“Eloise!” Sophie sinks deeper into the bath.

“I am looking for my infuriating brother! In case he has invaded your personal space!”

“As opposed to you who entered my private space uninvited.”

Eloise stops short, her cheeks flushing.

“Well, I…”

“Eloise, you are being rash,” Kate soothes pulling Eloise back to the door. “You must learn to ignore Colin—he was merely winding you and your mother up.”

Eloise pouts, hands on her hips.

“Well, Sophie, if my brother dares to act in any ungentlemanly way towards you, you must tell me then I can give him a stern talking to.”

Sophie smiles.

“That is very sweet Eloise. I shall endeavour to do so in the future.”

“I am sure Sophie will,” Kate says with a smile. Behind Eloise’s back, Sophie notices Kate push Benedict’s errant waistcoat under a footstool with her foot.

Eloise leaves with a final nod. Kate follows behind and gives Sophie a wink. Sophie turns bright red.

Once alone, Sophie deflates and sinks under the water in relief.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The camera turns to an empty bedroom—the same bedroom Benedict had frequented before entering the bathroom. All is still.

Then the window slowly judders up and open. One boot drops to the ground, then another. Finally, Benedict clumsily manoeuvres himself from window into the room—sockless, shirt open and braces swinging around his hips.

Once safely inside he silently closes the window and picks up his belongings. Just as he is to leave, he gives a fond smile towards the bathroom door.

Someone clears their throat.

Benedict looks up, like a rabbit in front of a rifle.

His mother leans against the bedroom door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Benedict has the sense to look sheepish.

“You have precisely less than a minute to rush into another room and avoid Eloise’s wrath. I shall talk to both you and your brother later,” is all she says.

“Yes, mother,” Benedict starts walking out, avoiding her eye. Just as he passes her, she puts a hand on her shoulder.

“And Benedict,” He turns to find her hard stare. “While the revelations of the past days might have set our world in a tailspin, it does not alter the matter that Sophie is a lady and should be treated as such. Do you understand me?”

“Yes mother.”

Violet narrows her eyes. Benedict gives a tentative smile. Violet breaks and rolls her eyes. “Off you go—shoo.”

She shoos him away, and Benedict obeys—with a quick kiss on her cheek and a smirk on his face.

*~*~~*~*~*~*~~*

Hee hee.

What do you think?

As always, I’d love to hear your ideas/corrections/opinions and always open to chat or requests. So...

Check out the list here, for more of my ideas on S4.

Check out the general arcs of my prospective S4 here.

Or message/reblog/reply to this :)

[jimmy-johns-was-taken]

A Shadow? (Pt. 1??)

BEN VS Dark link for the reader

Plus platonic Nina and Brian

A.N: I don’t really ever see much CP Dark Link, so here he is. Right now this is just part 1? Hell, dark isn’t even in this, but if y’all want more I wanna write more. And I think BEN VS Dark is pretty funny

T.W: none that I can think of??

Summary: Moving into a mansion in the middle of no where is difficult. Making friends proves to be an even harder task. And, what the hell is the shadow?

Thank you for reading :)

“So, breakfast starts about 5:00 AM? There’s no real time, but I recommend being down there before 9:30,” the man stated, walking down a long hallway. He had introduced himself as Brian and had been tasked with showing you to your room.

“Gotcha, gotcha,” you followed after him, taking in the hallway. A long corridor, dark wood floors with a stained red carpet and dark wood walls. A few tables here and there, as well as a few paintings. Most were of the Slenderman, but many included other beings. They looked similar to Slender, but had differences.

The hallway had been lined with doors, each adorned with a name plate. You didn’t pay much attention to the names, loosely looking at some. Brian, Tim, Toby, Cody, and Kate were at the beginning of the hall, but you stopped paying attention after them. More invested in what Brian was telling you, rough schedules and duties.

“Dinner and lunch aren’t really a thing, unless there’s an event. Oh! And a rule, don’t touch anyone’s food. If it’s not yours, don’t touch it,” Brian glanced back at you and you nodded in response.

“Is there rules on keeping food in the rooms?”

“Nah, boss don’t care much ‘bout that. Really, just as long as you clean up after yourself and shit, your fine,” Brian explained, arriving at a dark wood door with no name plate. “And here we are! Home sweet home,” he grabbed a key and unlocked the door, walking in.

“This is nice, bigger than I thought it would be,” you looked around. The same dark floors were present, however the walls were painted a dark gray. A bed was in the back corner, a nightstand next to it. A dresser sat across the room and a wardrobe by a door. You peered inside the additional room, a small bathroom with no decorations.

“Yeah, but it’s plain. If you feel like decorating, go for it. Most people have their rooms designed to their liking,” Brian had began walking out of the room, “I’ll leave ya’ be. Let you get settled. To your right is Silver, he’s quiet and won’t bother ya’. But, he’s also like, a glitch like you, so y’all might get along? Nina is to your right, good luck with that,” he gave you a small smile.

“Good luck?” You cocked your head sideways.

“She’s sweet, really, but she can be a lot. A little loud, yapping, stuff like that. But she’s sweet, won’t really give ya’ any trouble or nothin’,” he explained, turning on his heel and walking out, shutting the door behind him. You glanced around the room again, trying to come up with design ideas.

After a few hours, you had put up some decorations and filled the wardrobe and drawers. Being a glitch made things easy, just reaching into the screen and grabbing as you pleased. Brian mentioned someone named Silver and how he was like you? Your mind wondered, curious if there were any others here like you. There had to be, with all the rooms and such.

You stared at one of the posters, your favorite band peering into your soul. Smiling, you turned on your heel and walked into the bathroom, now starting on organizing that. A few minutes passed, you had just barely gotten started, when a loud knock rang out.

“One sec!” You yelled, scrambling off the bathroom floor and toward the door. Unlocking it, you just barely opened it. A girl stood there, just a little taller than you. You opened the door all the way, trying to get a good look at her. Black hair with two sections of bright colors and tiger stripes. Pale white skin, a large, thin smile cut into her face. She wore almost a scene-emo get up, studded belts and knee high converse.

“Hi! I’m Nina!” She threw her hand out for you to shake.

“(Y/N),” you responded, grabbing her hand. She shook it violently and somehow her painted smile grew wider.

“You’re the new girl right?! Aren’t you like, a glitch gamer pasta???” She questioned, looking behind you to see your room.

“Oh, uhhh, yeah,” you stood there, a little intimidated by her.

“Cool cool! There are a few of y’all here, but we’ve never had a girl gaming pasta!! Do you haunt a game? Or like, what? Also, I love that band!” She motioned to the poster behind you, smiling brightly. You now knew what Brian meant by “good luck.” Well intentioned, just a lot.

“Uhh yeah, they’re cool. I’ve got some CDs from them, if you wanna’ look,” you stepped aside, granting her entry. She pushed her way into the room and began to look around, taking in every detail.

“I know these bands! They’re cool. And I love the colors you have here, and the way you’ve done everything. Most people don’t really style their room, but I LOVE yours!” She continued to talk, going over everything from the posters to your large CD collection.

“Yeah, it’s nice. And to answer your question, yeah, I haunt a game. Final Fantasy, seven to be more specific,” you watched as she poked around your room.

“Ohhhh, blonde sword guy right? Big spiky hair?”

“Cloud.”

“Yeah! That’s him! BEN will like you, he haunts some Zelda game? I think it’s Majors Mask, but what do I know?” She turned toward you, then spun around and dramatically flopped onto your bed.

“Whose BEN?” you tilted your head, sitting down next to Nina.

“He’s another glitch, Zelda. But don’t call him that, he hates being called Zelda,” she told you a few more things about this “BEN.” He was like you, around your death age too.

“Oh! We can walk down to get dinner soon! I’ll text BEN to meet us, you can meet him” she pulled out her phone and rapidly texted as you watched in awe. How the hell could someone text so fast? And with that many abbreviations?

“Uhhhh, sure I guess?”

“Did Brian go over rules and stuff?” She looked back to you, sending off the message.

“Some? Stuff like not taking anyone’s food,” you snickered, it was a simple rule, common sense more like.

“Yeahhhhh, I wouldn’t. We got cannibals here soooooo,” she glanced toward your desk, looking at the PC.

“Oh shit, yeah I don’t want none of that” you looked toward the PC as well, noticing an odd shadow on the wall. But, as soon as it was there, it was gone again. Like seeing something out of the corner of your eye, yet when you look, there is nothing.

“Don’t go into anyways rooms without permission, try not to touch anything that doesn’t belong to you, don’t wake anyone up,” Nina listed a few more rules before her phone dinged again. A message from BEN, telling her to come downstairs. Another message followed, however you didn’t get a chance to snoop.

She grabbed your hand, leading you toward the door. You shut it and locked it behind you, then Nina practically took off running. She dragged you down the hall and down a large flight of stairs. You hadn’t seen this area before, a large chandelier and a few large doorways leading to various rooms. It was plain however, no paintings or tables.

Nina pointed out the doorways, explaining where they went. The largest one, located on your right, was to the main common room. Past it was a living room, complete with a large TV, gaming systems, a pool table, and more.

To your back left was a cellar door, which led to the basement, wine cellar, deep freeze, and additional storage. Another door to the back right was a long hallway, leading to the library, main laundry and cleaning closet, and a few quiet office rooms. Right in front of you stood a large door, leading to the outside world.

To the left must have been the dining room and kitchen. That’s where you and Nina were headed. Opening the doors, there were only three people present. You recognized one of them as Brian, to which he smiled and waved at you. The other two looked at you, confused.

“Yo, what’s up? This is Tim,” Brian motioned to his left, “and that’s Toby,” he pointed to the right. Tim nodded, pulling the red flannel closer to him. He was a bigger dude, not someone you would want to fist fight. Toby was different, orange goggles resting on their head. They looked kind of weak, but something told you that they could probably kill you. You waved slightly at the two, but a shadow caught your attention. But just as before, it was gone as soon as it got there. The others noticed and looked between one another, a silent understanding. We’re you missing something?

“Come on, come on, come on! BEN is in the kitchen I think?” Nina grabbed your hand once more.

“BEN is in the kitchen???” Tim spoke.

“Yeah?”

“We’re all gonna’ die, I swear,” he focused again on his food while the other two laughed. Nina rolled her eyes and you snickered a little. So, another detail about this BEN, he probably couldn’t cook for shit. Dragging you into the kitchen, your eyes widened.

“Holy shit dude,” the kitchen was massive. Stoves, pots and pans, at least 5 microwaves. It was like something out of a movie, all finished with fancy marble countertops. The Slenderman must be loaded.

“Yea, it’s big,” Nina looked to you, giggling.

“Yo!!! Nina,” a small, elf-ish looking boy walked over, grinning. He looked at you, red eyes examining you. This had to be BEN, he was dressed like a high schooler, sweats and a hoodie, hair messy and huge bags under his eyes. His eyes did catch your attention, bright ruby gems swimming in a sea of darkness.

“BEN, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is BEN” Nina introduced the two of you, motioning for you two to chat.

“Hi,” you plainly said.

“What’s good?” He sounded like a middle schooler. Nina, really the only person you actually knew, walked off, joining someone else in the kitchen. Damn you Nina, leaving me alone with strangers.

“So uhh, your BEN?” You didn’t know what else to say.

He chuckled, “yup, the one and only,” the proud grin that made its way to his face make you giggle. What an ego.

“You’re the new girl right? Glitch?” BEN asked.

“Yup, final fantasy.”

“Oh that’s cool, which one?”

“Seven.”

BEN’s eyes widened a little, “oh, so a blonde swordsman huh?”

You giggled, sensing slight jealousy, “yeah, cloud. Pretty cool huh?” You smirked.

“Link is way cooler,” he matched your smile, almost challenging you. You rolled your eyes in response. You two chatted a bit more, learning little about each other. Nothing too fancy, but someone else here so you weren’t alone. 20 minutes passed before Nina came back over, bacon and biscuits with her. She set the plates down, and the three of you began eating. You didn’t pin Nina for a good cook, but life was always full of surprises.

“Oh, guys?” You said, grabbing the others attention, “what’s with the weird shadow dude?”

“What?” BEN spoke first, looking around the room quickly. He seemed alarmed, worried almost.

“I mean the shadow dude lurking around? I’ve seen him a little, but he kinda’ hides,” you explained. Nina and BEN both shared worried looks, slightly talking between each other.

“Listen,” BEN started, “we can’t really talk about it. But listen, if you see him again, tell us. Like, right away.” BEN sounded serious, alarmingly so. Just who was this shadow man? You had seen him twice now, once in your room and the other in the dining room.

“Oh well, he was in my room…” you trailed off, looking over to Nina, “and he was in the dinning room.”

“Well shit,” BEN murmured, thinking.

“Uh, care to fill me in?” You asked, now slightly concerned for your safety. You were strong, sure, but you had no idea what this thing was.

“You’re a glitch yeah?” BEN asked.

“Yes, she is BEN,” Nina commented, rolling her eyes.

“Ok ok ok,” BEN looked to you, “have you ever heard of Dark Link?”

“I’ve heard of him, but I don’t really know much?” You had heard of Dark, he had been around for a while now. Not only that, but he was a more powerful entity, not someone you wanted to fight.

“I don’t even know why he’s hanging around here,” BEN sighed, “listen, you see him again, tell someone yeah? Don’t mess around with that guy.”

“Ok?” You had a questioning tone, yet no one answered. What was so bad about Dark Link, and what did he want from you?

[just-b-wilde]

I saw seven episodes of the third season...

Okay, in the context of things, season three is much better than I remember. And my main takeaway? There are a lot of hints in season three about where season four, and even the finale, will lead. But maybe more on that later.

What do I like about season 3?

Five and Lila - of course! I love their scenes.

Sloane and Luther - oh my gosh, I fell in love with those two in my fiction and now I enjoy them even more.

Klaus - honestly, his scenes with Reginald are actually interesting! Yes, Reginald is still a bit of a bastard, but it's actually nice to see him interact with "one of his kids" somehow more.

I liked the debate between Five and Victor when he told him what he did to get them back. God, Aidan is such a great actor! He can evoke authority and respect, just like his character should be able to. I like that a lot.

I liked when Lila talked about time travel and the necessary point to focus on. Haha, say hello to S4.

Oh, and I also liked the trip of Five and Victor!

And what don't I like about the season 3?

After how great Ben is in S2, Ben from S3 is like a kick in the gut.

I remember now why I have a problem with Allison.

The Harlen story. Harlen is like "I have no idea how to live with my powers" and then he seems like someone who teaches Victor because he can control it better than he can? Like… what? And then the thing with Allison? I mean, on the one hand, I get it, but I have a weird feeling about it.

Victor seems awfully whiny to me. I wouldn't mind it in a woman, but I really hate it in a man. Sorry.

I'm not a big fan of the Stanley plot.

And I would also like to say… it's nice to see Lila and Diego working together, isn't it? Except not at all! God, what was that? Lila was worried about Stanley, but instead of looking for him, she was eating sushi? They can't agree on anything and even Diego put them in danger (but yes, it's true, who knew how dangerous a bell could be, right?). Could they survive more than a week on the subway when Diego managed to lose two fingers in five minutes? 😅 Am I biased towards their relationship? Well, maybe… a little. But in that scene, neither of them proved to be a capable parent, and their cooperation was questionable. Besides, Stanley was really a kid with a lot of problems. Diego wouldn't say half a word to Lila about it? Well, they're all kind of mentally disturbed over there, so why am I surprised.

Yes, Lila and Five may hate each other (but honestly, after the bathroom scene, I don't even get that feeling) but they can work together and surprisingly, they can respect each other. Five is still more of an authority figure to her than anyone else in the family. Lila is not stupid or incompetent, but she is often very distracted. I think Five can kind of keep her grounded and let her fly at the same time. I don't know a better way to describe it. But he's never surprised at her behavior or what she says or does. But Diego, he doesn't understand her behavior almost most of the time. They're not often on the same frequency (maybe so when they're in bed together).

I'll continue tomorrow.

[chasing-posts]

As much as I love Victor, I think some people are right about him dying in the season finale alone, being the right choice.

But more than that, I think it could have been REALLY big and climatic. If I could redo it, I would have Victor feeling guilty because it was he who started the whole timeline thing off because he destroyed the world. In season 2, he almost did so again and Ben's soul had to die/ be destroyed to stop him. Then in season three, he accidentally caused the grandfathers paradox by leaving Harlan with some of his powers. Then later he allows Allison change the world again in the hotel.

Now honestly, there is A LOT about this season that needs to change to make this next idea work. But how I would end it is as such:

- After Victor meets Abrigail, a scene should be added where she wither insists on giving the violin to him as a gift, or she manages to convince him to play together with her, and when he goes away with Reginald, Abigail gifts it to him before they leave.

- After all else fails and the siblings plan to sacrifice themselves and are waiting in the mansion for death, Victor leaves briefly to "go to the bathroom". And while the rest are talking he grabs the violin and starts playing when he walks back in.

- He never got to actually play in front of them before... so he wants them to hear his performance one last time before they're erased. Think of it as his Titanic moment.

- When he hears Ben's giant Footsteps approach...then it's time to put his plan into action and he steals his siblings miracles. Using the same "keep them attatched with strings trick" he used in season one, mixed with miracle sucking ability he got from season two. He doesn't have to physically touch them anymore because his violin amplifies his powers, and it lets him do more now that they had time to build up.

- The fam tries to stop them but he puts a wall between himself and the sibs, as Ben/ Jennifer tears off the roof. Then it's a battle between two giants, Ben and Victor.

-Victor plays the violin as Ben starts to wrap him up, and they have a moment that parallels the last moment with Ben in season 2. Victor talking to Ben one on one. Or maybe Jennifer is there too. But they talk. About the old Ben and now him. about how he regrets being unable to save him or reach him. Maybe Ben talks about never feeling like a part of the family because he had the Sparrows, nd Victor's like "I know how you feel. I never felt like a part of the family either... but we were."

-I dunno something deep

- It ends in one last explosion where Bennifer and Victor take out each other. And create an explosion. Or some sort of white hole. Victor is strong enough to destroy the moon so he should be strong enough to destroy Bennifer if he has a proper build up. Even if he has to take himself out as well.

In the end most of the siblings get to survive... but they are left with regret and have to pick up the pieces. That or the world does reset one last time, but sibs 1-5 (and Lila) survive where 6 and 7 end up erased, but they get to go together.

Its still sad and bittersweet... but some major character beats could at least come out of it and it could create a fitting character arc for Victor in particular.