Oh.

just thinking about the reason Donna Tartt's writing is so sickening in that scene where Camilla comes to Richard all bruised and he thinks about... yeah, that scene. You know the one.

When Camilla goes to Henry, his first thought is "The girl I like is being hurt, I have to protect her." In contrast, Richard's thought process is "The girl I like is being hurt, I guess that's on the table." He sees Charles's abuse as an okay signal, and views Camilla less as a human because of it.

Its the whiplash that gets you. When the supposed innocent bystander starts talking like that, this visceral, gut-wrenching disgust takes over as you realize that is the thought process of the man whose head you are occupying.

mark looking at eduardo and saying a million things without uttering a single word

Can I request distressing content from BEN with this question please?

https://intimidating-fettuccine.tumblr.com/post/704079072511311872/httpsintimidating-fettuccinetumblrcompost692

I'm so glad you're better

The chain continues, Click Here for the previous "Slender removing (creep) from Y/N's body after Y/N had died in front of them"

You asked for distressing, and so I tried to be quite angsty with this one. I think this is the longest headcanon post I might have ever written, if not close to it

"I'd take the hit for you again." Those were the words you told him. He said it over and over again to himself while he watched you die, the fact that he shouldn't have been out here with you, that he hated being on the field for missions, he was clumsy and a distraction, and you had taken the hit for him and lost your life because of it. He kept blaming himself, and you knew that, and you'd told him it wasn't his fault, that you'd do it again for him. To keep him safe. He'd already screamed his throat raw while you were dying, your blood still soaking his form, but if it wasn't for the raw pain he could feel, he knew he'd still be screaming.

BEN wasn't surprised when Slender eventually appeared in front of the two of you. BEN had run his calculations and told Slender how long the mission should have lasted and when you should be home by. What BEN hadn't done calculations for was you taking a fatal hit for him, and the two of you being unable to return home at all. BEN was already dead, had been for at least a decade, but sitting there and holding you as you died had made him feel like he himself had died again. Slender seemed to hesitate, glancing down at BEN. There were only two people in the world who knew of BEN's full extent of trauma, of the damages that did to his real personality, and with you resting cold in his arms, it seemed that number had dropped back down to one, with Slender being the only one left with you gone. "They said they'd do it again," BEN says numbly as he looks up at Slender, "that it wasn't my fault." Slender tells BEN that he agrees and that it wasn't his fault. 

That just makes BEN's face scrunch up and makes a fresh wave of tears run down it. It makes BEN remember the fact that only three people had seen what he really looks like when he's crying. His mother, you, and Slender. Both you and his mother had died to an extent relating to BEN, you from taking a hit for him, and his mother, his mother had died protecting him from his father. Her numerous injuries and constant weakness made her illness worse, driving her body to give out. That realization, that both of the people he loved most in the world had died protecting him, makes him silently scream again, his face twisted in unbelievable pain as he silently sobs, as Slender takes both of you back to the mansion. BEN continues to hover next to you, to always be beside you as Slender cleans up your body and prepares to put you into one of the freezers. "BEN..." Slender's voice softly rings through the room, as he rests you upon the table you'll lay on until they can bury you. "I am truly sorry, for what happened. When you were young, and now, with them. I know that you'll internalize this, that you'll blame yourself, but I hope that you know that neither of them nor myself, would ever blame you for this. This was not your fault." Slender gives him a hug, tries to force his kindness into BEN's mind, and tries to stop him from continuing to blame himself.

However, right now, BEN's mind has always made itself up. Perhaps in a few more years, BEN will see that it wasn't his doing. That it's okay to be protected, to be loved and cared for, that he deserves it. That he deserves to be happy, and that all of those acts were made out of love and a desire to see him continue to be happy. But that's not right now, and he knows that. As he sits beside you, looking over you, a small part of him hopes that you'll turn into a ghost as he did, but he knows if that were the case it would have been done by now. Only those that die an incredibly sufferable death may turn into ghosts. As he recalls your death, how you smiled up at him, expressing your affection for him, how your last breath fanned softly across his face, BEN wouldn't have called that death one of extreme suffering. You seemed happy, in your last moments, to be able to spend them with him, to express your love for him one last time. That fact, that image of your final smile, a smile reserved only for him, has BEN screaming once more, so hard that his powers have all of the walls in the mansion shaking and rattling, however, none make any move to go down there. After all, they all internally knew the same thing; that only you could have been the one to calm him down.

incomplete list of Totally Heterosexual(tm) stuff that happens to Jack and Davey in Newsies (1992)

the tie pull

“you kids can have anything you want” “forget junk food I want Dave”

Jack climbing out the fire escape instead of using the front door like a normal person so they can have a Moment™ that looks like they’re Romeo and Juliet on the balcony

“see you tomorrow, carrying the banner”

Jack, who knows that that means “sleeping on the street”: haha yeah sure

Calling each other their partners after knowing each other for about 12 hours

Davey slowly losing his clothes throughout the film

he starts out with tie, vest, suspenders and hat, in carrying the banner

in world will know he’s loosened his tie

in seize the day he’s lost both the tie and the vest

in king of new york he doesn’t have suspenders

idk how his pants stay up there

at the end he doesn’t even have a shirt

The fact that Jack’s FIRST instinct when he needs a spot to lay low for a bit is to go to Davey’s even though they’ve known each other less than a week and he doesn’t even ask to come in he just HANGS OUT ON THE FIRE ESCAPE, LIKE A GAY MESS

“there’s nothing to stay for is there” Sarah, a knowing lesbian: sure, Jack

the one spot during the rally where Jack sits on the swing and Davey pushes him so he can kick the cops

Davey’s nat20 on stealth

“jack. jack come on. run.”

Jack planning on going with Pulitzer’s people anyway but imMEDIATELY RUNNING JUST BECAUSE DAVEY TOLD HIM TO

The entirety of the alleyway scene

“they could put you in jail” “i don’t care”  YOU HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR A WEEK AND A HALF

Santa Fe reprise is so obviously about Davey I’m putting it on here

the fact that it was Davey the Delanceys threatened first in an attempt to rile up Jack

“guess I couldn’t be something I ain’t” “what, a scab” “straight smart”

“I got family here” [cut to Davey seeing him and smiling, without a full shirt on]

they have known each other for TWO FUCKING WEEKS

I think I got most of them but feel free to add more

ofc ur gay asses would have a date at the cemetery

jason is a grandpa's boy and u cant take this away from me!!! they cook together, they discuss literature together, and when jay comes back, they clean their guns together haha. ofc they celebrate their birthday together too! 😌

✨️🎂 hbd jay & alfie 🎂✨️

hoodie - brian headcannons

(because i yearn for a man who is a.) not real, and is b.) cruel,) + minor mdni implications 🔞

i. brian has never raised his voice at you- and yet, the world quakes in his wake. there is a tenderness in the way he kneels before you, pressing his lips to the back of your hand like a knight bent to his sworn lady. he is a thing of patience, a quiet storm, a wolf that does not bare its teeth unless provoked. and when he is provoked—oh, how the heavens weep.

“my sweet girl,” he murmurs, voice thick as honey, slow as a southern summer. “d’you know what i’ve done for you?”

the answer lies in the bones buried beneath your feet, twisted earth dirtying fresh shoes. “if i could tear the whole world apart for you,” he breathes, dragging his lips along your knuckles, “i would.”

i.ii. brian kills because he has to. hoodie kills because he wants to. brian's hands are steady, efficient. hoodie’s hands linger—dig in, snap, and break. hoodie doesn’t just get rid of threats—he makes an example of them. if someone dares to insult you, he makes sure their tongue never works (right) again. he leaves bodies behind like shitty censure. doesn’t bother with discretion like brian does. if someone crosses you, he wants them to be found. wants the world to see.

•sometimes he kills over things you don’t even notice. a wrong glance, a murmured insult—things brian might let slide, but hoodie? oh, hoodie is taking their fucking teeth. he is your bonekeeper. brian just deals with it.

ii. you are a thing he does not deserve, but you are a thing he cannot live without. the first time hoodie touched you, it was not with love, but with hunger. his hands gripped your waist as if he could break you apart, press you into the fabric of his coat and stitch you there, keep you pressed against his ribs where his heart once beat.

“you think i don’t know?” he breathes, laughter curling in his throat, cruel and sharp. his fingers dig into your skin, pressing, demanding. you were made for this. made for him. “you like this,” he whispers, knows it, drinks in the way you tremble beneath him. “you like it when i take.”

and he does.

iii. he loves it when you whisper his name like it is something holy. and perhaps it is. brian does not believe in god. but if he did, he would believe in you.

he would kneel at your altar, mouth at your feet, hands shaking as he prays. for you. for the softness of your touch, for the mercy of your love, for the gift of your breath. and when he presses his lips to yours, slow and aching, it is not a kiss—it is a vow. for better or worse. in sickness and in health. in blood, in bone, in eternity.

"my lady," he murmurs against your lips, voice breaking, devotion etched into every syllable. "my darlin'. my love.."

iv. hoodie is not kind. but with you, he almost is.

"you're lucky i like you," he murmurs, dragging his fingers along your ribs, counting them like beads on a rosary.

his breath is hot against your ear, his lips ghosting over your pulse. he could tear you apart. he could ruin you. he could do worse. but he doesn't. he presses a lingering kiss to your throat. "don’t make me prove it, sweetheart."

v. the sleeves swallow your hands. brian (hoodie) likes that. reminds him he's something bigger, stronger. "you know that’s mine, don’t you?" his voice is quiet, warm, curling around you like the fabric itself. he watches as you roll up the sleeves—his sleeves. you glance up at him, half-smiling. "yeah?".. "yeah."

his fingers skim your wrist, tracing the edge of the jacket—his jacket. his hands are big, rough with scars, but so gentle as they tug the sleeve down over your hand again. "you look better in it, though," he murmurs, his voice low, soft, reverent. you swear you see the faintest smile when you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest.

vi. reflecting: brian doesn't believe in god, but sometimes, when he looks down at the cross around his neck, he cant help but feel like its the last thing that connects him to a world that isn't full of blood and fear. the church will never be his answer- but he believes you were sent to him. and that is the closest thing to salvation he knows.

vi.ii hoodie doesn't care about the cross. not really. but when he wears it, it becomes something beyond a piece of jewelry- it's a challenge. a mockery of anything holy. the fact it swings around his neck when he's sunk into you, and he's got your face in the pillow? sinful enough to get him stiff for another round.

• the cross presses against your back as he holds you in a grip that makes your pulse race. lips, curled into a mischievous grin as he gets his fingers nice, and comfortably nestled against your scalp. "you feel that? god's watchin', baby.. don't know if he's pleased with me, but i'm sure as hell havin' fun."

vii. he does not ask- brian insists. a quiet, unshakable thing, like the tide knowing its pull, like the sun knowing its rise. if you reach for the door before he does he's already there- undoing your mistake.

"try that again, sweetheart." his voice is soft- teasing, but there isn't much room for argument. it's his devotion- his way of telling you, you are worth more than rushing hands and thoughtless exits

viii. hoodie does not take off his mask. if brian removes his hood around you, hoodie does not. you will never see his face, not fully, not unless he lets you. the mask is his skin. it is what allows him to move through the world unburdened by conscience, by identity (by the fragile remnants of brian’s past life.)

-> there is something horribly intimate about the fact that when he is hoodie, he is more real than brian has ever been.

xi. brian is the type of man to undoubtedly shove his hold hands up your shirt to warm them up- and he does it every time- without fail, without mercy. the chill clings to him like a second skin, his fingers stiff and aching from the cold. and you should know better than to let your guard down. but he's patient- and he waits until the moment you are relaxed to do it, like an asshole. the shriek you let out is enough to make him grin- a big wolfish smile that is shameless as you flail against him. he's laughing, burying his face into your shoulder, breath warm against your skin while his hands remain quite literally frozen in place.

"aww, c'mon now, darlin'." he drawls, arms locked around you to keep you from escaping, "s' just a lil' cold. you want me to freeze?"

“I’m gay” “I’m straight” …..okay?? I’m nothing in my soul if not obsessive

crossaint emoji (also up on youtube)

song: mixed messages - tom cardy

guilty conscience 😬 (i watched legion of superheroes movie)