#all of these are also females

[so-you-read-the-usernames]

Female characters who are the sole voice of reason <<<<<<< Female characters who think of themselves as the sole voice of reason but who are actually just as insane as those around them

[technically-human]

St. Hilarion's ghost story

[delicourse]

i miss them a little if im gonna be honest

[ancientbread]

The hunger games: capitalism pits individuals against each other in order to prevent us from uniting against the systems in power that maintain our oppression

teen dystopian YA for the next decade: light hair good boy 😍??? Or dark hair bad boy 🫣😈😈

[iheartbookbran]

My favorite part about the Debling plot was Penelope and Cressida doing the most over there top cat-fighting in order to win him over, not because they genuinely liked the guy, but because they wanted to escape their families and also lowkey just hate each other.

[konigsblog]

as my favorite könig smut writer you’re the only one i trust to do dbf!neighbor!könig x early 20s!reader with the dirtiest, sloppiest, most toe curling age gap smut 💗💗

dbf!neighbour!könig?! sign me the fuck up, i could write a whole series for that filthy man!

synopsis; your father's best friend, könig, has been struggling to get himself into a stable, loyal relationship lately. luckily for him, you offer him some sort of release.

tw/cw; age gap/difference, early 20s! reader x late forties!könig, weed use, blowjob, mutual masturbation, PinV, tell me if i missed anything. MDNI 18+ 🍃

photo credits; @ave661

You've had the hots for your father's best friend for quite a while.

He doesn't live very far from you at all. In fact, he lives next door and visits your father pretty often to smoke together and talk about whatever is bothering him, which usually includes topics like König's failed relationships and inability to hold a woman for longer than a week.

Aside from wanting to rant about his horrible, fucked-up love life and to smoke weed with your old man, he wants to see you as well—maybe even more than speak with your father.

When your father is busy doing something else, like washing the dishes or cleaning his car outside, König will excuse himself to the bathroom and will sneak into your bedroom to admire the place. You have plans to move out soon, but currently, you stay with your father inside of your childhood home. König's hand "mysteriously" sneaks into your clothing hamper and begins looking for a pair of panties.

It's alright, you won't notice surely...

And you can't deny your attraction to him. The sound of his familiar, accented voice leaves your knees weak and your panties damp and soaked with the thoughts running through your dirty mind at the moment. You smile at König and talk to him about your plans for college, watching as his eyes flicker from your chest to your eyes, your nipples turning into little stiff buds at the cold breeze in the living room.

Today was like any other saturday; your father was away down the road for some beers with his other friends in the afternoon while König had just arrived home from another fucked-up date, ending like the rest of his dates have. He looks dishevelled and in dire need of some sort of release. He's visibly and clearly pent up and exhausted, rolling himself a joint to relax, leaning against his porch and closing his eyes tightly. He's deep in thought and doesn't realise that you've sneaked up on him, practically jumping out of his skin at your sudden presence.

“Shit, Mäusi— I didn’t see you there... What’s wrong, dear?” He smiles forcefully. He doesn't want to bother you with his shitty life since you're probably all worked up from college and stressed out, but you insist that he tells you what's bothering him. It doesn't take a lot of convincing since it's hard to deny you, especially when you say that you can help him if he explains.

He invites you inside and offers you a joint, in which you gratefully accept and seat yourself beside him, ready to act as a therapist for him.

“Another fucked date with another woman who seems interested in me, but actually isn’t. It seems like I can’t please any women.” He admits through gritted teeth. At the sight of his frustration, you place your hand on his thigh teasingly. “Do you think there is anything I can do to help?” You ask quietly with a mischievous and playful smile plastered on your face. Your voice is seductive and sultry, eyes half-lidded and lustful. God, You really are a tease, huh?

“And what are you hinting at, Liebling?”

König always thought he'd be the one to initiate, but right now, he was struggling to keep his composure and quickly found himself falling for your acts of seduction. You lowered yourself onto your knees and began to unzip his jeans, cocking your head to the side at the sight of his aching cock springing out in your face. You giggled while König pulled his large hands into fists, throwing his head back at the wet sensation of your lips wrapped around his swollen, weeping cock. He'd been dreaming of this moment for months, Liebe.

The things you do to König fucked-up head, Good Lord. He couldn't help the sounds of pleasure running through his lips, his dick painful at your tight grip and pleasure.

His sounds came out pained and guttural, pleased but so on edge and anxious of what your father would think about him after being so touchy-feely with his best friend's daughter. He curses himself out for agreeing to this, feeling like such a pervert despite yearning for more of your addictive, sweet touch. “Feel good?” You question him, knowing he'll get frustrated and will force your head down onto his leaking boner. He huffs and puffs, gripping your hair in a tight fist and pushes your head down with a loud moan leaving his mouth, choking on his groans and grunts.

You coat König's lengthy shaft in your spit to get him slick enough, before seating yourself onto his big lap, your hand stroking and fisting his dick. He slides his fingers into your hole with his eyes wide at the sensation and texture of your gummy walls. He chokes on his pleased sounds as you tease his tip by rolling your soft thumb over his uncut, creamy tip and feel as your folds are stuffed with his thick digits. He pumps them into your soaking cunt and admires the sticky mess left between your fingers, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy cunt.

“C’mere, Taube—Kiss me, please.” He grumbles out, getting obsessive with the pleasure you offer him. He places his lips against yours, making out with you messily and sloppy, the effects of the marijuana leaving him relaxed and at ease with all his concerns and worries forgotten about. His tongue rolls over your bottom lip while you squeeze his dick, whimpering into the sweet kiss. König's fingers begin to pump into you even faster, pulling away to beg you to sit on his cock. You're on edge and shaking pathetically, nearing your orgasm but not quite fully there.

“Sit on it, dear. Don’t be so shy, not now you can’t.” The smell of nicotine sticks to his skin, your thighs shaking as you begin to ease down onto his weeping, veiny dick. König doesn't hold back the sounds of his arousal and euphoria as it burns through his large body, bucking his broad and sturdy hips into your body while cursing you out for being such a dirty tease. You leave König totally obsessed after finally receiving some action after so long.

You bounce on his lap while he fucks his bulbous cock deep into your drooling slit. You gasp and roll your eyes to the back of your head at the ache andd pleasure between your thighs, unable to stop letting out the most perverted and pleased noises. You can feel as König hits your cervix with each thrust and his heavy balls slap against your rear as he drives his hips against your tight rear. Your eyes fill with tears at the pain and stretch, his girthy dick leaving you breathless as you admire the state he leaves your pussy in; raw and sensitive.

König can't hold himself back when you begin to lose control. Sweet, pearly droplets of your sweet arousal run down his boner and coat his length, allowing him to fuck you even harder and deeper with ease as he uses your sweet juices as lube.

“That’s it, little one—God, look how well you’re taking’ me, princess. You’re a mess, such an addictive mess, huh? You’re gonna be an obsession of mine, that’s for sure.” König grits his teeth as he bucks his hips into you even harder, his eyes shut tightly as your walls clamp down around him one last time, filled with ropes of his white creaminess. You pant and heave at the stomach bulge caused by his loads and ropes of his hot release. You grip his jaw to make out with him, your body sweaty and hot with König's cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

You have to sneak back home before your father comes back and asks what you were doing over at his best friend's house. König would be slaughtered if he found out the truth.

You just have to act all innocent, as if König's milky and potent load is oozing out of your hole and dampening your panties at the dinner table.

[chubsette]

pizza.gif

[ameliathornromance]

A part of you was unsure how your Orc Boyfriend would react. As you pruned the bouquet of flowers in your hands, you were starting to regret your idea. It was only a few paces from the camp now, surely you could just turn back around and throw it away, right?

Flowers were something that women received typically. Maybe he would think you were insinuating something about him, or that maybe he was weaker than you thought he was-

“Love! You’re back!”

Too late for take backs now. Hiding the bouquet behind your back, you watched as your Orc Boyfriend dropped a wood chopping axe and rushed over to you. “How was your walk? Did you get what you needed?”

You weren’t sure why you thought you could hide the flowers from him. He was at least two or three feet taller than you.

He peered over your shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “What’re those for? You’ve never brought flowers back before.”

Well, now or never, you thought. Meekly, you pulled them out from behind your back and held them out to him.

Your Orc stared at you for a minute, looking you up and down in confusion. “I… Um…” Where did you even begin with this? You must look insane.

Sighing, you lowered the bouquet and looked down at the different blooms. “When humans really like each other, sometimes they give flowers. So, I picked some flowers for you.”

There was silence for a moment and you felt your face burning. You knew it, this was a stupid idea.

“You picked these… for me?” His green hand came into view, wrapping around your interlocked fingers.

You nodded, still not looking at him.

Before you could stop him, he had snatched up the bouquet and held it high above his head. He bellowed to his others in the camp: “Look here! My lovely lady brought me flowers! What have you suckers got?!”

Orcs from their various work stations looked up, growled, snarled and swatted their hands at your Orc, “get stuffed you lug!”

Your jaw hung open at your Orc's audacity, before he looked back down at you and gave you the widest grin. “I didn’t know humans did such a thing,” he admired the flowers in his hand, seemingly as big as daisies in his huge hand. “You picked these yourself?”

“Wait, you like them?”

“Why wouldn’t I like them love?” Your Orc kissed you on the forehead. “You went out of your way to get them for me.”

“It’s just… I thought… Human men don’t normally get flowers, so I thought that…”

Your Orc let out a bark of laughter, “but I’m not human, am I love?” He pulled you into his arms and squeezed you tightly. His arms were the most reassuring and calming thing at that moment.

Hugging him back, you realised that there had been nothing to be afraid of. How could you have assumed that he would have been insulted by your gift?

“Anything from you is something to be treasured.” He mumbled to you, giving you another kiss on your lips.

Patreon

[ashleyloob]

I randomly got dragged to Mormon church and met the illustrator for A Series of Unfortunate Events who is apparently a bishop at the church, and now we are Instagram mutuals. today was so bizarre

[psychotic-nonsense]

In October of 1967, Steve Harrington is born in Hawkins, Indiana.

He's raised there, forced to live under the strict expectations of his parents, Richard and Samantha. Barely escapes their clutches, freedom fueled by the kids and adults that take the role of guardian and family when the time is right. Keeps himself in check with the always impending apocalypses that arise beneath his feet.

In June of 1985 - when Steve Harrington is 18, while Richard and Samantha Harrington are visiting New York for an extended work trip - Veronica Harrington is born.

She was carried and raised in secret from their hometown. They take care of her between their business hours, dropping her in the hands of nannies and babysitters galore. They don't even think of Indiana during Veronica's early childhood, too focused on work and making sure their daughter starts up right.

In October of 1986 - when Steve Harrington is 19, aged further by ending the Vecna War, yet tamed by his newfound love in Eddie Munson - Richard and Samantha Harrington return to Hawkins.

They don't ask about what happened to their son. They don't ask about the town. They don't ask questions, just give responses to them. Sneering at Steve's friends, complaining about the state of the house, commenting at the disfunctional chaos their home has become.

In November of 1986, Richard and Samantha Harrington disown Steve.

They just let him go. They at least give him a folder of his legal documents, but otherwise just tell him to get out of their house and never use their name again. Claiming Steve doesn't need anything from the room because the Harrington's own everything in it. They don't call him son, they don't say goodbye, they don't acknowledge who's actually taken care of the house, they don't admit most of Steve's former room has changed with money Steve earned himself, they don't dare to give him any money or care where he goes. They just say they're sick of dealing with an unworthy mistake of a child, and force him out of their house.

In November of 1986, the Party's adults adopt Steve.

He runs to them first after everything happens. Held himself together at the start, but broke down the second the words were out. While everyone was trying to comfort Steve, Wayne Munson and Jim Hopper were the first to succeed. They know firsthand that this family would never be the same as blood, no matter how much that blood has boiled and burned before, but the love will be stronger and it will be here. When everyone seconds it, Steve finally accepts it. He becomes a child of the Party - he's everyone's son and everyone's brother, taking whatever surname he sees fit.

In November of 1986, Steve Henderson and Eddie Munson leave Hawkins.

Despite all this good, Steve can't bear to stay in this damned town a second longer, where everyone knows who he is and will soon know everything he isn't. And it's not like Eddie was looking forward to sticking around Hawkins either, especially without his Steve. The kids are the first to agree, surprisingly, and the adults promise to find a way for the boys to get out. Later that week, when Richard and Samantha leave the house to prepare for Veronica, Steve and Eddie break in to take everything that's rightfully theirs. While they're there, not sure what prompts him, Steve makes a bag of his clothes with shoes and his wallet tucked within it, shoving it into his closet. Dustin's mom uses an old favor to get the boys an apartment in Chicago, the Party has one last farewell, and the two boys are gone.

From 1986 onward, Veronica Harrington is raised in Hawkins, Indiana.

Richard and Samantha are adamant in their daughter coming out exactly how she should. They steadily convince the town to forget the Harringtons ever had a son and lock the room on the second floor next to the stairs without ever touching the inside. They raise her with formality and pride at the top of their expectations, wanting at least one child to come out right.

But Veronica is the spitting image of Steve's honesty and care. She puts on a facade when needed, but even at a young age, she wants nothing more than to be someone's light in the darkness. She plays with every lonely kid at school, and tries to make people laugh at the business parties she's dragged to. It's not received well by her parents, but Veronica is much too strong willed and stubborn to let it phase her.

In April of 1991 - when she's 6 and they're so much stronger around their hearts - Veronica Harrington meets Steve and Eddie Munson for the first time.

It's the year Erica is set to graduate high school. Steve and Eddie have been making the drive for every holiday this year, ordered determined to give her the best senior year she could have. It's Easter Sunday, and Wayne somehow managed to drag his boys away to church - a Munson custom, as even Eddie insisted they go.

While at the snack table post sermon, a little girl comes up to Steve, mistaking him for her father. He and Eddie gently comfort the girl, introducing themselves and offering to help the girl find her parents. That's when Veronica introduces herself, striking Steve deep in his heart. Still, he keeps quiet, even gifting her a little origami crane made from napkins at the table. He calls her "chickpea" for the color of her dress, tells her to keep the crane secret and safe, "If ever you need to find your way back home, you hold that close, and it'll tell you."

Meanwhile, Wayne has come across Richard and Samantha in the crowd opposite the kids. Exchanging formalities, Wayne mentions his son and nephew are in town, news the Harrington's are surprised at, as Wayne didn't seem like the father type. However, trying to keep face, they remain civil and insist on introducing their daughter.

Cue Veronica running to her parents with Steve and Eddie in tow. Cue Steve calling Wayne dad right to Richard's face. Cue the Harrington's immediate leave from the church, Veronica waving behind her with a crane placed carefully in her pocket.

From then on, Veronica Harrington's life changes indefinitely.

Her parents' expectations grow tenfold. She finds out she's horribly allergic to chickpeas. All of her friends must be approved by her parents, and any that don't fit their image are ordered to leave her.

Veronica takes these changes in stride - is her class's top student, captain of the softball and volleyball teams in junior high, keeps the friends she wants in secret from her parents - but she can't help but keep the crane in a little box in her room. Gets a necklace with a little origami crane pendant, holds it whenever she needs to make a hard choice. Can't help but expand herself in secret, learn things her parents would never approve of - lock picking, other languages, sleight of hand, a clothing style that's nothing like the dark blues of her family, all warmth and light. She explores every room in her house, yet is unable to find her way into that room upstairs next to the steps.

In May of 1998, Veronica Harrington discovers the truth about her brother.

She's about to be a freshman. Her class was touring the high school in preparation, and while passing the athletics hall, her eyes hit the swimming trophies. Each row stuffed with trophies, and each one with a name that stabbed her right in the stomach: Steve Harrington.

After that, she couldn't bear all the secrecy anymore. Late that same night, she finally uses her lock picking skills to break into that room. And though it's devoid of life, it is a bedroom, so evidently lived in. It's frozen in time, twisted sheets covered in dust, old papers crinkled from being stepped on but not picked up, old clean clothes still sitting in the hamper. It's a boy's room, clearly, and Veronica is careful walking around this place of memories.

She does still explore, quietly clicking on lights around the room, too cautious to touch the overhead lights. She looks under the bed, finding a bat and a trash can lid, both embedded with rusty nails. A shirt that still smells like fresh laundry yet has a back stained permanently with long red lines down the shoulders. Dozens of stapled documents labeled NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT, detailing horrific events that each have that same name signed at the bottom.

With shaking hands she checks the closet, and finds it mostly empty. All except for a deep green graduation robe and cap, a cream Hawkins High letterman, and a duffel bag hidden in the back corner. The cap has a 1985 tassel, and the letterman has Harrington branded on the back with basketball and swimming patches galore. And the bag, when she checks it, looks like a survivalist pack someone would make in an apocalypse. At the top sits a wallet, and inside is an ID for a Steve Harrington, who has the same face as the one in her origami memories.

And Veronica is done. She wakes up the next morning and throws Steve's jacket on the kitchen table, startling both her parents mid sip of coffee. She finds herself in a screaming match with her father, demanding them to quit lying to her, begging to know who her brother is.

In a fit of rage, Richard tells her. Tells her everything Richard and Samantha never saw in Steve, about Veronica's secret birth, the disownment, Steve's disappearance from the Harrington house and Hawkins. She's reminded of that one Easter Sunday, and is told how Richard and Samantha faked Veronica's allergy to keep her mind from being tainted by whatever curse befell their bloodline before. Orders her to never say that name again.

In a fit of rage, Veronica bites back. Calls her parents cruel and overly expectant. Comes clean about her secret freedom. Says she'd rather be nothing than ever carry the burden of the Harrington name ever again.

She hides away in her room after the fight. Cries in her closet with her origami box cradled tightly to her chest, begging it to take her home because this place isn't anymore, maybe never was. Cries for the brother she never even got to meet, who went through so many horrible things yet still got put through this same punishment. Cries for the future she won't get to have, losing her hope for a new beginning that will now never be.

At the start of June, 1998, Veronica runs away.

She makes it through the rest of May in near silence. She writes notes for all of her friends at the end of the school year, and one for her parents to inevitably find. Finds 75 dollars in Steve's old wallet, stuffs the duffel bag the rest of the way with her belongings, and says goodbye to Hawkins.

She takes the first bus she can find out of town. Doesn't care that it's going to Chicago, doesn't really care where she's going now. She befriends an old homeless man riding the bus as well, becomes another interesting name in his "Book of Wanders (Pronounced as Wonders)." As Veronica's telling the story about unknowingly meeting her brother, she remembers the crane in her bag. She reaches in to retrieve the little box, then the crane, nearly crying seeing how disheveled and unfolded it is. Broken and doomed, just like her. But looking at it now after so long, she thinks she sees something written inside it. Despite it shattering her heart pieces, she carefully unfolds the little crane.

At its center, in old, bleeding blue text, reads, "Find the Swooping Bat if you've lost your way."

The old man laughs then, taking Veronica's hand and placing it onto her chest, over her heart. "It's fate," he whispers in the dark bus. "There's a place called that in Chicago."

Veronica uses her money to rent them both a hotel for the night, giving the old man a warm bath for the first time in weeks. She gifts him the clothes as well, saying it's, "an honorary thanks from my brother, for helping me get here." They bid each other farewell in the morning, the old man telling her to keep hold of fate.

She finds her way to the Swooping Bat easily, hand on her necklace guiding her way. It's a quaint little diner, popular enough to be comfortably warm when she walks in. A young lady in a wheelchair - Max, says her nametag, with pins saying things like, "Summer work blows" and "USC grad or bust!" resting on her collar - guides her to a booth next to the sunrise.

"Anything I can get you today?" Max asks when Veronica's seated.

Veronica's fully ready to order everything on the menu, what with how delicious this place smells, but then she remembers her funds. 5 bucks, if she's lucky. "Just a chocolate milk, for now. Biggest one you have, please." She somehow plays off Max's skeptical look, her eyes sweeping over Veronica's no doubt disheveled and no-food-in-36-hours appearance.

It somehow works out, and Max is wheeling away. Veronica allows herself a moment to collapse, stomach growling in pain and eyes burning with the realization she has no idea what she's going to do now. She just has this last bit of hope to hold onto, and without it, she'll be nothing but a husk.

She's not sure how long she sits there, staring at the sunrise and letting sound and AC whisk her mind away, but there's suddenly a little knock on her table. Her head snaps up, and there's Max again, setting down a giant glass of chocolate milk... alongside a loaded breakfast plate.

"It's on the house," Max rushes to explain, all fondness when Veronica scrambles to get her wallet. "Courtesy of the owner. And between you and me," she whispers with a wink, "just take the damn food, kid."

Veronica stumbles over herself for a moment, rendered near speechless, before she finally comes back. She begs Max to thank the owner profusely, before rushing to dig into the pancakes before her. She's halfway done dousing the stack in syrup by the time Max wheels away, when there's suddenly someone laughing.

"Of course," says a choked-up voice behind her. "Can't have any chickpeas starving in my booths."

Veronica nearly drops her fork. She turns so sharply she gets dizzy. Seven years can't change a person that much, surely, because though he's bigger in the torso and he has glasses on the bridge of his nose and his hair is cut so close, he still has the same softness in his voice and the same slouch in his stance and the same moles around his eyes and his smile is so bright despite the tears in his eyes, and though Veronica can barely see through tears herself, it's not like she needs them anyway to know it's-

"Steve!" she cries, scrambling out of the booth to meet her brother halfway. The relief of it all working out has the rest of her restraint collapsing, forcing harsh sobs out of her and into Steve's shoulder. The siblings hold each other in the middle of a restaurant, a voice in the background asking everyone to leave them be. Steve doesn't stop whispering, even as his chest heaves with broken gasps between tears, "You're save, Veronica, I got you, I got you, it's gonna be okay, you're safe here, it's okay, sis, it's okay..."

"That you, lil' chickpea?" whispers a different voice once they've calmed down. Veronica reluctantly pulls away and finds a man kneeling beside them, a hand on Steve's shoulder and similar tears in his eyes. His hair and tattoos remind her of the tamed wild from seven years ago, covered in black in the middle of church yet glowing brighter than the stained glass, the one that Steve looks at in past and present with a glowing love Veronica never saw between her parents.

"Yeah," she whispers, wiping her tears away before placing a hand atop her necklace. It catches Eddie and Steve's eyes and make them beam with pride and relief. "Yeah, it's... it's me...."

[rosefires20]

My brainrot today is thinking about just how incredible for a character Eowyn is.

Genuinely. The series might not have many female characters but the ones we do get go so fucking hard.

To me, Eowyn is literally the definition of defining being a woman for oneself. She rejects the roles she is given despite acknlowdging the importance and its mostly because she knows part of the reason is that she is a woman.

The reason why she is obsessed with Aragorn isn't because she loves him but because she wants what he has. She wants the freedom and courage and bravery that Aragorn has at every turn. She literally has multiple conversations during the Two Towers about how what she fears most is a cage. All this girl wants is the freedom to be and not be forced into a role. The best thing is that she literally gets that.

The segment of Return of the King about Eowyn and Faramir is literally about her piecing together what she truly wants. She doesn't want Aragorn. She wants freedom and the ability to choose. Faramir does nothing but encourage that in her. Their love story is literally one of the healthiest love stories I've seen in a long time because at the heart of it, their love is a place to return home to for both parties. Both go off to lead and help their people for a considerable amount of time before returning to each other but that does not diminish their bond. Even Faramir, I believe, falls in love with her bravery and dedication to her loved ones. The reason she went to Pelenor Fields and Gondor with the troops of Rohan was because she had things she wanted to fight for. She wanted to fight for herself, her people, and her loved ones. She is the one who protects Theoden after he is killed so that his body gets the treatment it deserves. She encourages Merry and helps him go to the battle because she sees her struggle in Merry. They feel helpless standing around when there are things to be doing.

Let's also not forget the fact that she was around Grima Wormtounge just as much as the King was. She was exposed to the same poison and awful words that eroded the king. It's even implied that her care for him is part of the reason why Theoden was savable when Gandalf showed up. She had the same power and bravery as everyone else even if she didn't see it in herself.

Then at the end of the day, SHE decides where she wants to go and what path she wants to walk. She walked the path of a warrior. The path of a princess/ruler. The path of a caretaker. But in the end she decides which elements truly mean something to her outside of gender definitions. That is what makes her character so incredible to me. In this she literally kills one of the biggest enemies in that battle with such a badass line.

[shinysobi]

"it was awkward to see colin flirt and behave like a rake" "he gave me the ick" yes ! that is the fucking point!! congratulations! you have the media literacy skills of a fucking monkey because my 4-year old niece could understand it better than you do.

we are supposed to find colin cringey and annoying and get the ick because that is not who he is. he is not anthony, or simon, or even benedict. colin (apart from gregory) is the sweetest of all bridgerton brothers (i'm going by book canon) and his most identifiable character trait is the fact that he values an emotional connection above everything. he runs away to the continent because he wants to feel that emotional connection. he has meaningless sex in brothels because that is the example he has seen growing up, that is the norm. he tries so hard to fit into the norm. he goes out drinking, adopts an entirely new personality, learns flirtations because that is how he thinks he will fit in. he's got armour on, as violet said. he puts everyone's needs above his own, he stops rambling on and boring his family with details of his trip because he knows no one cares. he doesn't talk to anthony or benedict about his heartaches because he knows they still, somewhere in their heart of hearts, view him as the annoying younger brother. he's so devastated by his closest friend not responding to him that he adopts a new personality in the hopes that it might mask the hurt better. he runs after penelope in episode one because he is so attuned to her emotions that he knows she's hurting, and tries to comfort her even when she's spiraling and lashes out. he must have been hurt by her words in the "good night mr bridgerton" scene but he puts it aside to genuinely apologise to her when literally no one else in that family would do that. colin, instead of brooding over his own feelings, goes and corners penelope in her family's garden and apologises to her, disregarding his own hurt at being cruelly dismissed by his close friend.

penelope asking colin to kiss her is not a mark of how "pathetic" she is. she has written and shamed herself in a manner that is almost entirely unsalvageable. she is at her lowest point, and then portia comes in and reminds her of how undesirable she is, and she sinks even lower. she asks colin to kiss her because she sees it as a final act, after which she can quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and leaving her mother's home. colin kisses her because he is also keenly aware of how she's feeling. he knows how hurt she is, he wants to do anything to alleviate that. be it cracking a joke, or kissing her. he is gentle, because he wants it to be something she can dream of when she's by herself. penelope, at this moment, has no hope for herself, and their kiss is an act of letting go for her. no, it's not a pity kiss, no he did not like her after her glow up, he has always loved her. him being struck dumb is a reaction to her physical transformation, nothing more. he does not flirt with her in that ballroom scene, he only approaches her when she's in distress. he's not flirting with her. i can assure you penelope could wear the frumpiest most neon yellow gown of all time and colin would still go "<333 my pen" for her.

colin jumps to catch the balloon's ropes because he sees that penelope is in danger, he does not give a shit about anyone else lmao. he feels temporary relief when he sees eloise run to safety, but the moment he sees penelope in immediate danger, he rushes to take action. afterwards, when he sees that she's being comforted by debling (all my homies hate debling, even if he is aro/ace coded i do NOT claim him) he does not approach her. it would be easy for him to do so, but he does not, because he respects her boundaries. colin bridgerton is the only man in the ton who respects women (the featherington sons-in-laws are too pretty to have a thought) he calls out fife and his friends for treating women like objects and calls them cavalier. the only way he would have been more explicit about his demisexuality was if he tap danced on the club table (entertaining thought, luke newton please)

colin also rapidly takes action, something which no one in the show has done so far. simon would have died instead of accepting his feelings for daphne, daphne would have been content with a loveless marriage forever instead of asking for help. kate would have pushed edwina down the aisle and gone off to india instead of confronting her own feelings, and anthony would have married edwina if she hadn't been brave enough for the three of them to run from the altar and ruin herself. penelope stood on the sidelines for years and loved him quietly because she had no hope of him loving her back. colin, the moment he is assured of his feelings, runs to penelope, almost kisses her in the middle of a ballroom. when he hears that debling is about to propose, he goes to the ball, just to dissuade penelope one more time. he cuts into their dance because he's desperate. when he runs after her carriage, he asks her if she has been proposed to, because he would not have touched her otherwise. he confesses his feelings to her only when he knows that she hasn't gotten engaged to debling, and when she says "but we are friends" he moves away. nothing more. he would have let her go, if she did not return his feelings.

idk whether i should be flattered or offended at people misunderstanding this season because on one hand it is offensive, but on the other hand, it means only smart people get polin. seriously. your minds have been rotted by insta-love and enemies to lovers that you can't even appreciate the innate beauty of friends to lovers. being friends with someone and then holding all those feelings for them. the trepidation of possible rejection. the fulfillment of being loved by the person who knows you the best of them all. the privilege of loving someone whose feelings you know better than your own. love is gentle and kind and yes it is a violent, uprooting force but above all, love does not hurt anyone. it does not hurt you. i could love someone quietly for years and it wouldn't bother me if their feelings were requited or not because my feelings are none of their business and i consider it a privilege to love and be loved by them, even if it is not in the way i would want it to be. polin are privileged in the highest sense. they know each other better than anyone else, they know how to love each other better than anyone else. to think they are rushed or they dont deserve each other is a disservice to both of them. they would be miserable with anyone else.

in other matters, if i see one more person talking smack about luke or nicola behind the safety of their screens i will personally get a bazooka.

[starfish-spencer]

This day is for THEM

Bonus doodle:

They talk about murder cases and cute guys together

[brighteuphony]

I love Chiyo- and I kind of headcanon her as a Witch of the Woods (Sands???) archetype- a bitter old woman who has sacrificed too much, experienced and committed more atrocities than anyone can imagine, and who knows the truth about what lies in the hearts of men to live among the villages anymore.

In my AU she's got a pretty dark backstory. Back in time when Villages were just getting established, women weren't allowed to be shinobi in the same capacity as men. There was too much warring and death among the clans to risk women, so they were only ever allowed to serve as spies or medics. (Chiyo started off as a medic).

And like any military/fascist dictatorship, serving the state was more important than anything else- so women who were kunoichi were given missions to steal and return with powerful bloodlines. Even before villages, this was a common fear among clans (which is why so many of them have protective measures and inbreed/arrange matches very carefully).

Chiyo was one such woman, who took a X-rated mission in her youth because she was told it would 'serve her nation'. There was a powerful bloodline whose Kekkei Genkai could harden sand to something akin to Steel- something Suna very desperately wanted.

Chiyo succeeded in her mission, but despite the veneer of 'serving your nation', when she returned, she was considered, in her words, "Just another whore."

Then when her son didn't manifest the bloodline- it was worse, but Chiyo was happy because that meant her son was HERS. (This is when she met Enji, and he saved her son's life at great cost- so Chiyo owes him a blood/life debt.)

Then the war came, and they needed women to fight so now serving the nation meant something different, and Chiyo became a full fledged 'shinobi' and turned her healing towards poison and death- especially when she had to fight the Salamander.

Then she sealed Gaara and that was the atrocity straw that broke the camel's back and she dipped out Suna and retired to an oasis. She's still a healer, but adamantly refuses to serve shinobi.

Once again, thank you so much for these asks and all the support for this AU?

@youngpeacearbiter

[shittybundaskenyer]

stranded enemy soldiers during the first contact war au has me in a chokehold. rest is on ao3 because it's a bit spicy :))

[cheeseburgersinparadise]

I need to encourage someone. Enable them. Ask them to eat more for me as I touch them, make them moan so I can push another bite in their mouth. I need to worship their straining belly and praise them for eating so well. I need to make them desperate to eat more, always more, to gain access to my affection, my touch, my body. I need to delight in making someone huge.