hello! I was wondering if you had any tags or reasons on why people hate Ben Winston? I don't know if it's like common or not but I couldnt stand him ever since that 40 minute 1d interview... and he's buds with James cordon so I'm not sure if he's like an actual jackass or if it was just that one time... thank you!!! :-)
Hi! so yeah, it’s definitely common for people to loathe ben winston (and with good reason).
1) the four livestream is really only the tip of the iceberg but it really turned a lot of people off because it showed him very clearly siding with simon/OT over the boys.
he throws other people under the bus for his own mistakes (blaming gabe turner for the ending of the history video rather than acknowledging that he too was responsible for the final cut.)
3) he’s an asshole to fans who dare to ask for diversity in videos. in ‘night changes’, all the hands of the girls going on dates with the boys were white and when people asked for better racial representation he basically told them to stop complaining and ‘use their imagination’ to pretend they’re white (???)
4) he’s tweeted some really nasty misogynistic things during the last fifa world cup about how ‘wives and kids shouldn’t be on the pitch’ to celebrate with their husbands when their team wins because football shouldn’t be ‘soft’ and there’s no place for them there.
5) during mitam promo on james corden’s show/carpool karaoke he was a total dick to fans who asked why he’d unnecessarily cut extra footage of the boys going through the mcdonalds drive-thru (he’s always a condescending dick to fans).
6) he always chooses to back the official company line over his friendship with the boys (there was this awkward incident where he retweeted a richard lawson vanity fair article with a casual larry mention in it and then backtracked like a moron when antis/hets pointed it out (richard shaded him though which was great).
so yeah tl;dr it’s not just a one time thing. he’s an actual jackass.
Jyn looks…well, uncomfortable is the first word that comes to mind when Cassian watches her pull the door to his hotel room open in her fitted evening gown. Beyond that, she looks great. Amazing. Incredible, even. The emerald green satin complements her eyes — currently narrowed in annoyance — and hugs the curve of her waist, normally hidden by her bulky Alliance-issue shirt and jacket. Cassian resits the urge to fit a hand at the small of her back as she wobbles past him to the table full of weapons they’re meant to conceal for tonight’s mission.
Tonight, they’re guests at a reception for a senator on Coruscant, just back from a stint on the outer rim, doing “charity work”. Draven suspects charity might have more to do with the Empire than the senate’s letting on. So, Cassian’s playing a Festian dignitary escorting a visiting colleague on a tour of the core worlds.
“I can’t walk in these kriffing things,” Jyn says, bracing herself on the back of a chair. “And my dress is too tight to hide a handkerchief, let alone my blaster.” She grabs at her gun and frowns, holding it to her waist. “See?”
“That’s not where your blaster goes” Cassian replies smoothly.
Cassian’s done his share of spy work with a multitude of partners and informants. He’s done this before, cloaking ability and danger with the trimmings of wealth, but Jyn probably hasn’. He points to the holster beside her blaster. “That’s where it goes.”
“It’s a thigh holster. Like a garter.” Soon as the words come out, Cassian’s wishing he’d picked any other analogy. The image of Jyn in garters short circuits every nerve in his body — mission? What mission? For a minute, there’s no Empire. No Alliance. Just Jyn, all pale thighs and dark lace.
But then she’s cursing and everything comes back.
Cassian shakes his head. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t get this thing on,” she grumbles, shooting daggers at the blaster in her hand. “It won’t stay.”
“Do you need help?” he asks, hoping that she’ll say no.
Jyn nods, brows raised as if to say well, duh. A sound escapes the back of Cassian’s throat of its own volition and she offers a helpful, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Just…lift the hem of your dress and let me.”
She hums, grasping the bottom of her dress and lifting it nearly to her waist. Lucky for him, she’s wearing a sort of body suit for extra protection — Cassian’s got a matching one under his tuxedo — that just skims her thighs. Still, it’s more of Jyn than he’s used to seeing.
He kneels beside her and takes a deep breath.
Taking her blaster, Cassian slides it into the holster, trying his hardest to ignore the warmth of Jyn’s bare skin at his fingertips. It clicks into place like nothing and a thought runs through his head: why couldn’t she get this herself?
He’s about to ask when there’s a sharp tug at his tie and he’s suddenly nose to nose with Jyn.
“What — ?”
“You think I don’t know how a kriffing holster works?” Jyn breathes. She’s so close he can feel the words on his own lips. “I’m not an idiot.” When Cassian tilts his head down, he sees she’s smiling, hand still fisted around his tie. “Maybe,” she adds, angling her head to the side so their lips almost touch, “I’m better at this espionage thing than you thought.”
Jyn closes the space between them and Cassian lets out a useless groan. When she pulls away, he shakes his head, eyes falling closed. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked.”
“And what fun would that be?” Jyn finally lets his tie go and smooths down her gown where it’s bunched around her waist.
Cassian stands, a smile working its way across his face. He turns to check one last thing on the datapad, but Jyn clears her throat in that indignant way he’s grown so accustomed to. “I still can’t walk in these things,” she says, holding an arm out.
He laughs, taking her hand. She teeters on her heels a little and, this time, Cassian does steady her with a hand at her back. Jyn hums something in approval.
“You’re right,” Cassian says, helping her towards the door. They need to be downstairs…well, three minutes ago, actually. Then again, when are elites ever on time?
“About?” she asks, concentrating on not stepping on the hem of her dress.
“Being a good spy.” He unlocks the door and holds it open, letting Jyn grab his arm once they’re both in the hallway. “You certainly keep me on my toes.”
When she flashes him a grin, Cassian wants to kiss it off of her. Later, maybe. Hopefully. Definitely. That is, if he can get through the whole night without an inspection of her holster. Just to be sure it’s still secure.
(They wind up in a coat closet two hours later, having safely extracted information from their mark. Jyn shimmies out of her dress and starts to undo the clasps keeping her blaster safe.
“Keep it on,” Cassian whispers, a mischievous glint in his eye. “After all, it was a lot of work to get fastened in the first place.”)