#he had a ton of loved ones he had a purpose he had a sense of pride in himself etc.

[llycaons]

man...it's gotta suck to be jc

[brucewaynehater101]

Android Tim Drake AU:

Drake Industries announced they had successfully created realistic-looking androids that passed the Turing Test (and harder versions of it). They were planning to release commercial models to the public within twenty years.

To go a step farther, the Drakes wanted to ensure no one was skeptical of the androids' abilities to pass as human. Thus, Janet and Jack Drake had a healthy "human" baby by the name of Timothy Jackson Drake. The only individuals aware of this are Tim, Janet, Jack, and a small handful of engineers bound with a fuck ton of NDAs. They planned to tell the public when Tim was eighteen.

While Janet and Jack Drake are aware of Tim's ability to mimic emotions, they do not believe him to be capable of actually feeling them. This leads to Tim's childhood being lonely and neglectful. He is a robot.

At first, Tim is incapable of consuming human foods or using his touch sense. They fix his touch sense by the time he is four (and thus Dick is his first hug), and the food by the time he is six. He is constantly undergoing repairs to allow him to mimic the growth pattern of a child. It's when he is nine that he finally gets pain sensors to discourage and alert him to damage.

Tim is, for all intents and purposes, legally a human. When Janet dies and Jack gets into a coma, Tim stops receiving "growth spurts." He remains the same size even after Jack wakes up from his coma.

When Tim becomes Robin, he does not disclose his status with Bruce, Dick, or anyone else. Given that his parents treat him like an object, a machine, and incapable of feelings, Tim doesn't want to be subjected to that by his heroes either.

Instead, he gaslights the hell out of the Bats, villains, and other heroes whenever he gets hit.

["Tim! You got flung into a building. You are getting a medical exam."

Tim narrows his eyes as his eyebrows raise in surprise. "Bruce.... what are you talking about?"

"I saw you get thrown into a building. You're not getting out of this."

Tim glances to the side and then back to his mentor. He carefully places a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "B... Maybe we should have Alfred check you over."

Bruce blinks in shock as his brows furrow. "What?"

Tim purses his lips and shakes his head in pity. "It's okay, B. We'll figure it out. Whatever is going on, we'll fix it."

Bruce is so confused and concerned he doesn't ask Tim to get a medical check and agrees to be checked over instead.]

Tim becomes an expert at repairing himself because he can't explain to the engineers (most of who were let go after Janet died) how he got damaged. He spends a lot of nights alone in his room turning off his pain sensors (which isn't an automatic process and is difficult to reach)in order to fix the mangled hand, the gaping gash, the crooked foot, etc.

Kon, and conversely YJ, are the first to find out about his status (darn x-ray vision and super hearing). This encourages Tim to create artificial sounds within himself to fool Superman when they first meet. This also forces Tim to wear a long-sleeved uniform and a hood to hide from x-ray vision.

Tim finds comradery with Red Tornado.

When Jack wakes up from his coma, he originally treats Tim as he did before: an object. Dana, though, changes this. Jack can't explain why he treats his "son" that way and slowly morphs into becoming a good father.

It starts as only occurring when Dana is in the room and ends with a very bitter and antagonistic Jack when she leaves. He is initially disturbed by how much Tim is "faking" emotions, particularly because Tim learned to conceal his emotions from his parents as a coping mechanism (not that Jack knows this).

As they start spending more and more time together, Jack begins accepting the idea that Tim is capable of emotions. He starts caring and loving the kid as his own.

Because of this, Jack becomes fearful for Tim. When he learns that Tim is Robin, he is both jealous of Bruce's relationship with Tim and absolutely terrified for his son (what happens if people find out that Tim is an android? How would they treat him? Tim told Jack the Waynes don't know about his status. What if Tim gets injured too badly during a mission and they find out?)

This is why Jack initially forbids Tim from being Robin. There is way too much at stake for Tim if he continues (even though, theoretically, Tim can't die. Jack can keep saves of Tim and import him into a new body if necessary. They both don't want to do this, however, because Tim's body is his. It would feel weird and wrong to put him in another one).

While Tim is prohibited from being Robin, Jack bankrupts his company in the process of getting Tim rights. He bribes the hell out of judges, law makers, etc. to subtly put I'm rights for androids. He wants Tim to have full access to his inheritance, to freedom, and to everything humans can do. He doesn't want Tim to be without it.

Tim doesn't understand why Drake Industries is going under and is pissed at Jack for preventing him from being Robin. Robin is everything to Tim. It allows him to be treated as human. It connects him to so many people.

It's only afterwards, when Tim is finally allowed to be Robin again (and Jack has ensured he did everything he could for now for Tim's rights), that Tim fully understands how much Jack loves and cares for him.

Then Jack dies.

Tim is able to hide the fact that he's an android up until a Red Helmet asshole breaks into the Tower. While YJ whisk him away before the Bats can find out, Jason knows. Jason found out.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 11)

Masterpost

When Jason arrived at the manor to meet Danny it wasn’t him who greeted him but Damian. Jason tensed as he always did when he saw Damian, though now the feeling he got when he saw Damian made more sense to him. He had read the slide show, he knew that the urge to fight Damian wasn’t hatred, and neither was the way Damian lashed out at him… at least probably not. They should spar more, but not right now, he still needed to overcome the urge to fight Damian in the lobby.

“Todd,” Damian greeted.

“Demon-Brat,” Jason said, insults were practically his love language now anyway. 

Damian sniffed disdainfully, but he was shifting from foot to foot. He had something to say and was struggling to figure out how. Jason crossed his arms and dutifully waited for Damian to spit it out. “Danny has warned me about the role that combat has in courtship for his kind, I do not know why on earth he would want you to court him But that is his decision. I will not interfere but understand that he is vulnerable and he is protected. If you hurt him in any way there will be consequences.” 

“I’m not planning to hurt him, but I also don’t even know if we are ‘courting’ yet,” Jason said rolling his eyes. 

“Well then you’re even more of a fool then I thought,” Damian said with a disdainful sniff. “He’s a very powerful being, Zatana says that he will likely grow to be a god, you should be grateful he is willing to let you court him.” 

Jason blinked rapidly, he hadn’t been here for that conversation so that was the first he was hearing of that! It also occurred to him that Damian had a baby-crush on Danny and considered teasing him about it but decided not to. “Huh, good to know,” He said, simply reaching out to ruffle Damian’s hair and missing on purpose as he dodged away. “So where is Danny?”

“He’s waiting for you in the dojo upstairs,” Damian said, sounding a little resigned as he gestured upwards. “I hope you made reservations for somewhere worthy.”

“Don’t worry Dami,” Jason snorted, brushing past him to head towards the stairs. “I’ve got it under control.”

Once again as soon as he entered the dojo and saw Danny the violent urges surged but he wasn’t alone and he didn’t swing first. Danny came at him first and Jason rose to meet him. The fight was longer but less desperate this time. It felt like they were getting out their energy and anger without meaning it, and by the end Jason and Danny were both breathing hard and purring again. It really did feel like bonding, they were closer now then they had been at the beginning of the fight, even if they had hardly said a word.

It ended in a stalemate, or, Jason got Danny pinned but it couldn’t have been more obvious that Danny let him. Jason was glad they didn’t have an audience this time so later he could deny that made him blush. Danny gave him a cheeky grin and reached up to pull Jason down, slow enough that Jason was able to scramble away before Danny got hold of him.

He coughed to clear his  throat awkwardly, grabbing one of the towels that sat on a shelf on one side of the dojo, using it to wipe his face and the back of his neck. The fight had been intense enough to make him sweat, though Danny still seemed unbothered, and there were some gym style showers off of the dojo. 

“Well I’m glad I brought a change of clothes!I’m going to have a quick shower and then we can go out for dinner okay?”

“Sounds good, I’ll go change too. Alfred bought me a Ton of new clothes, I really didn’t need that much more. By the way, what sort of place are we going? I mean, should I dress up?” Danny asked a little awkwardly, Running a hand back through his hair to try and push his bangs back.

“I mean, probably a little bit?” Jason said. “If I didn’t take you somewhere nice I think Damian would shank me. It’s cute how protective of you he is,” Jason teased. 

“Alright, so we talking jeans and a button down? Or proper dress pants?” Danny asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“Better to go with dress pants. The good ones are pretty comfortable anyway, and Alfred wouldn’t get you bad one. No need for a jacket though, unless you’ll be cold?” 

“I have an ice core, I never get cold,” Danny laughed. Jason was just going to pretend he understood what that meant.

“Alright,” Danny agreed, bouncing to his feet in a way that denied gravity and bouncing out of the room to go get changed.

Jason grinned like an idiot after him before shaking off the feeling and going to have a quick shower and get dressed for their date.

Jason showered and dressed in a red shirt and soft brown pants before meeting up with Danny who was wearing a blue that brought out his eyes and black pants, he looked… very good. Judging by the blush on Danny’s cheeks he thought the same thing about Jason. 

“Have you ridden on a motorbike before?” Jason asked rather than acknowledging any of that.

“Oh! Ya I have, not that often but I know the basics,” Danny assured, following Jason eagerly towards the door. 

“Great, I have an extra helmet for you.”

“Do I have to?” Danny sighed dramatically. “It wouldn’t kill me anyway if I fell off.”

“Yes you have to,” Jason said firmly, his stomach twisting at the idea of Danny getting hurt. “You have to be more careful Danny! I get that we’re all bad about risk taking, and you’re tough, but you don’t have just yourself to worry about anymore!” Jason said, trying not to sound too much like he was scolding Danny. He wasn’t sure it worked because Danny did look pretty chided as he took the helmet. 

“The babies aren’t in my head, the helmet wouldn’t protect them,” He muttered as he put it on. Jason just hummed and rolled his eyes as he put his own on. 

Danny got on the bike behind him and wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist, snuggling up against his back even as continued to sulk. “Hold on tight, and the helmets have mics so we can still talk without having to yell. It’s a bit of a drive,” Jason warned. He could have gotten there a lot faster, but not without breaking traffic laws and he was in civvies so a half hour drive it had to be.

Danny hummed and tightened his grip on Jason as he kicked back the stand and revved the bike, peeling out of the driveway in a way he knew would piss off Bruce. It also made Danny yelp and cling tighter though so Jason slowed down a bit once they were out of the driveway. 

Danny was quiet for maybe ten minutes and Jason was starting to worry he’d upset Danny more then he realized and maybe should apologize when he spoke up. “You’re right. When Cass clocked that I was pregnant it was the first time I’d talked to anyone about it besides Vlad. I’m not… Honestly the way I’ve survived most of the shit that’s happened to me was not thinking about the implications. I’m not sure how I’m going to do this. I’m in a way better position now then I was even a week ago but it’s going to be such a big change I’m having a hard time imagining what it's even going to look like.”

Jason hummed, nodding and taking a moment to consider his response. His first instinct was to remind Danny that he didn’t Have to have the babies since it was still early but he knew that the other bats would have already brought it up. If Danny was anything other than fiercely protective and utterly determined to have the babies Bruce and Dick would still be trying to convince him to not be a teen parent and focus on his education. The same way they had tried to convince everyone in the family not to be vigilantes and utterly failed. 

“You’re going to be a good dad Danny, and you’re not going to do this alone. Bruce never got to have any of us as babies, the youngest of us was 12 when he adopted us and I know he’s looking forward to having a baby around. Alfred is too, and Damian and Dick will compete for best uncle. Money is no object, you’ll get everything you and the babies need. It’s still going to be a big change obviously but there’s nothing to be scared of I promise,” Could he make that promise really? Well he just did so he’d better do his best to make sure it was kept. 

“It’s not just that though,” Danny said and hesitated again. Jason stayed quiet to let him organize his thoughts. “My binder is hurting more to wear, my.. Chest aches, I told Bruce I was just incubating ghost cores. And that’s what I’ve been telling Myself too, but I got sick this morning and the babies are clones of me, and I’m half human. What if I actually am pregnant?

“I told Jazz I’d bring up going to a human doctor but then dodged it. I haven’t been in years and I am nervous about going again but it’s more than that. I don’t like my body, I’m too young for hormones or surgery but if my body changes. What if my chest hurts too much and I can’t wear my binder anymore? What if they grow more? They’ve always been small enough to hide before.

“I don’t mind the idea of my stomach growing, or even really being a mom. I’m a man but I do feel like I identify more with maternity than paternity. It’s really just my.. Breasts. God I hate that word. I don’t want them to grow, I don’t want to lactate or breastfeed. I mean, I DO, I actually really do but just the idea is giving my dysphoria at the same time that I really want to do it to bond with the babies.” It was like a dam had broken and Danny’s words came fast and a little loud, breathing hard between bouts of talking. 

“Deep breaths please Danny, take a few deep breaths,” Jason soothed, taking one hand off the handlebars briefly to pat Danny’s hands where they were clasped over his stomach. He was a bit at a loss about this, none of his siblings were trans, he knew trans people but he’d never had to talk anyone through these particular problems. “These are a lot of what ifs to be panicking about. It’s totally your choice, the babies can be bottle fed if the time comes and you’re not up to it. There’s nothing wrong with that. We’ll all be here for you no matter what happens, but you really should go to the doctor Danny. At least then we’ll know what to expect right?”

“Will you come with me to the doctor? I’m a bit scared of human doctors, I’ve heard people talking about experimenting on me so much as Phantom that every time I’m in a lab-like environment now I can’t stop thinking about it,” Danny asked, a pleading edge to his voice.

“Ya, I’ll come with you, and whoever else you want,” Jason promised, because what else could he say? “We’ll make an appointment for you with Dr. Leslie, she sees all of us vigilantes, she sees just about everyone involved in the night life and never Ever talks to the cops or the feds. Trust me no one can get that woman to talk to anyone, she’s safe.”

“Thank you,” Danny murmured, leaning his cheek against Jason’s shoulder. The rest of the ride was a quiet one as Danny recovered and Jason tried not to overthink his lackluster responses. 

-----

Jason parked a block away from the restaurant rather than trusting any concierge with his bike and waited for Danny to get off before he did. He took off his helmet and took Danny’s from him and locked them both in the storage compartment on his bike before leading the way, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets. He was never the most… socially competent. He was better than Tim but he was worse than Dick and Bruce and in moments like this he wished these things came a little easier to him.

Danny was quiet, his hands swinging loosely by his side as he followed, Jason noted the way he kept looking around them. They all did that, looking for threats civilians might not see, it was how you spotted a hero even when they weren’t trying to be spotted. Still there were no problems between the bike and the restaurant and when they got inside Jason softly asked the host to make sure Danny got one of the menus without prices. He was knew to this lifestyle, Jason remembered the first time he’d gone out to a fancy dinner with Wayne the prices had nearly given him a heart attack and he was younger and less set in his ways then Danny.

He didn’t want Danny to worry about the prices, he’d be paying and he was both the son of a millionaire and a crime lord, he could buy the entire fucking place without blinking. The host nodded understanding and ushered both of them to the most private table in the establishment. 

They settled in and ordered drinks, Jason a coke and Danny a signature lemonade before they were left with the menus. Danny gave Jason a suspicious look when he noticed there weren’t any prices but when Jason innocently pretended not to notice Danny huffed and decided not to bring it up. 

“Order whatever you want, appetizer and dessert too,” Jason encouraged, putting on his innocent face again when Danny gave him a Look. 

“Alright,” Danny agreed with a dramatic sigh, he didn’t need to be pushed too hard though, Alfred had mentioned Danny was almost always hungry, wish was why Jason hadn’t chosen one of the fancy places with ridiculously small portions.

Danny took a while to choose, and asked Jason about a few items and words on the menu. Finally he sighed and put his menu down to indicate he was done. It wasn’t long before the waitress returned to take their order for appetizers and main before vanishing again.

“So,” Danny asked leaning against the table and clasping his hands. “You have questions?”

Next

[kiyo-cant-write]

hi hi! jade req again, kinda toxic this time

can we get jade with a reader who’s really easy to manipulate and they know it? idk if it makes sense but like jade realizing reader isn’t oblivious to his manipulation, just kinda self-destructive and hopelessly into him

jade thought he was being slick because reader wasn’t calling him out on anything, but he overhears their conversation and finds out that they’re fully aware jade is a ton of red flags but is still staying anyway, and his reaction to that

i really hope this makes sense! idk how to word it

jade w/ an easily manipulated reader ✧･ﾟ

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Aw! Thank you for another request! I love Jade and Octavinelle so much! I hope that I did your idea justice. Please let me know if you'd like another request in the future! Onwards to the story! ^^

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Summary: Jade Leech has been stringing [Name] along for fun and due to the instruction of Octavinelle's Housewarden. He thought he was doing well... but it seems [Name] may have had ulterior motives.

TW/CW: Toxicity but the standard Fish Mafia kind

Notes: established "relationship", they/them pronouns for the reader, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, the reader is described as human and younger than Jade/frosh, ADeuce if you squint, implied to be post-Azul OB

Guest Stars: Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola, Grim, Azul Ashengrotto & Floyd Leech (referenced)

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Jade Leech

As much of a sadist as Jade can be, he's not exceptionally cruel outside of what he deems as the necessity for his purposes.

He is a bit smug when he thinks he has [Name] under control.

Jade is pretending to be "honor student Jade Leech."

He acts as their friend and support albeit for the Lounge.

He pretends to care, to do everything to help them.

He smiles at them, speaks politely, and even "affectionately."

They trust him and they tell him things they shouldn't.

He will use those bits of information when the time comes.

Every time they have an inkling of doubt, he squashes it.

His surprise is evident when Floyd points out that it might not be the case this time, but Floyd is Floyd and doesn't explain.

Wanting to make sense of this discovery, Jade observes [Name].

He watches to see if [Name] really has caught onto him.

Jade is intrigued and what he finds does not disappoint.

He is surprised to find that they caught on long ago.

But they stayed? Why?

Because they "love" him?

Why would they love the guy trying to string them along?

It didn't make sense to him. He felt a tug at his heartstrings.

Did he feel bad about this?

He didn't know what to do.

Jade starts to avoid [Name] after realizing their feelings.

He retracts further into his honor student persona.

[Name] will not win this fight. He will not be bested by a freshman.

The battle has just begun and Jade needs to bury this sinking feeling in his chest. What does it mean anyway?

Floyd serves as a live studio audience to Jade's struggles.

Jade is an observer. That had been his role for so long, that he wasn't sure when it began. Ever since he was young, he would watch and calculate while Floyd was the type to rush into things, be impulsive, and just a tad stupid at times, at least when they were young. Jade never intended to make his observations a skill, but sooner or later, everything becomes an asset.

That's what his father had always said.

His mother worried about the sadistic streak in her son, but she couldn't do anything to prevent its development. Jade was, after all, a member of the Leech family. He and Floyd would join the family business sooner or later unless they wholly refused its offer.

"[Full Name]," Jade mused to himself, "How interesting."

Azul had been the one to ask him to pay extra close attention to Ramshackle's Prefect in case they strayed too far from things, or got into any trouble. The magicless human that had saved others from themselves, they interested the owner of Mostro Lounge. Jade had simply agreed with Azul's request, observation was his skill, after all.

It had never been meant to evolve, and certainly not into this.

Jade watched as this person fell for his polite words hook, line, and sinker. It was almost too easy. They were shockingly trusting, telling him all sorts of things he could use to be downright evil if he wanted to be. It wasn't time for that, not yet, but one should always guard their secrets (perhaps not as much as Azul, but at least a bit).

He didn't need to do anything unless the moment called for it.

At the time, it had not been necessary.

That was weeks ago.

Azul hadn't given further instructions and, to be fair about it, Jade didn't want to earn that octomer's ire. Not today, anyway. He and Floyd were troublesome, yes, but not stupid.

So, as Azul had instructed, he was trailing the Prefect until told otherwise (or until it became boring, whichever arose first). Though their reactions had been predictable, he could argue that things were getting boring now.

Floyd would have given up ages ago, he was sure of it.

[Full Name] was currently spending their time with their classmates, Ace Trappola (easily swayed by competition and bets) and Deuce Spade (note: gullible as a child). Jade had kept an eye on the three of them (and Grim) because of their closeness. It was rather irritating how buddy-buddy they were. He had worked a bit to get [Name] alone those few times they had spoken privately.

Standing away from the trio, Jade listened in on their conversation.

"[Name], I don't think that this is good," Deuce told them, clearly worried for their friend's mental state, "You need to be more careful. Don't you remember what happened to me and Ace?"

"I fucking remember!" Ace chimed in, "It sucked. Don't trust fish."

"Nya! Fish are food, not friends," Grim told them, "Especially eels!"

"Ah... You guys..."

Jade almost wanted to chuckle at Grim's words of "wisdom" but he withheld it, knowing that he mustn't give away his position. Not yet.

"You shouldn't trust Leech-senpai," Deuce continued, "Do you not remember how he and his twin brother acted before?"

"THEY TRIED TO KILL US, [NICKNAME]!!" Ace interrupted Deuce, earning him a glare from the navy-haired boy, "Sorry, Deuce-chan."

"Don't call me that."

What Deuce was doing could only be described as glowering.

"Lighten up and help me convince [Nickname] not to get themselves murdered by a shady eel and a shadier octopus!" Ace told him, slapping Deuce on the shoulder, "Just because they're better doesn't mean they're changed fish! Fish are suspicious!"

"Ace, do you have some fish-related trauma outside of campus that I should know about?" Deuce asked him, "It's starting to seem—"

"FOCUS ON [NICKNAME], DEUCE."

Ace's reddened face was a sign that Deuce was on to something with that fishy nonsense. Jade Leech would remember that fact.

Fish trauma. Noted.

"....Okay," Deuce agreed, turning back to [Name], "Do you want to tell us what you've been doing with Leech-senpai? We're worried..."

Deuce trailed off for a moment before he added a Deuce-typical offer.

"I can fight him if you want me to. They're messing with my friend."

"N-no thanks, Deuce... I don't think I need that," [Name] said, laughing at the antics of her friends and roommate, "Honestly, I know he's not being honest with me... But I don't really... care?"

The words surprised Jade but he refused to give himself away. There was more information to be gathered, for his own needs and Azul's.

They don't mind my dishonesty? Heh...

"I have never been more concerned for you than I am right now," Ace said, tone lacking its usual goofy undertone, "Do you want me to tell Mom and Dad about anything? They would help..."

Ace wasn't sure what to do but this was a worry. So frantic to say his sentence Ace neglected to register his misnomer for Vice Housewarden Trey Clover and everyone's favorite senpai Cater Diamond. He could lay awake and think about that later.

Deuce clearly felt similarly as he reached out to put a hand on [Name]'s. He wasn't good at solving problems of the emotional variety but he could be a support. Or, he would try to be one.

"Even if we can't say anything helpful... We can be here to listen."

"I appreciate it, but I'm fine," [Name] tried to assure them (but it wasn't working), "I just... I like Jade-senpai... and if this is how... he will talk to me... then I am okay with it. I've just been going along with all... that."

Jade felt time stop for a millisecond as he processed the words. They had been "playing along"? They didn't fall for every trick? Perhaps this was more interesting than he had thought. Still. He didn't like being bested, perhaps he needed to up his game...

"[Name], that's not good... I don't think..." Deuce managed.

"I wish Mom and Dad were here..." Ace mumbled.

"[Name], don't leave me for a fish! It's not even tuna!"

Grim clung to his human with small paws, tail swishing.

Jade was baffled not by those that Azul had previously controlled but by [Name] themself. They were something odd amongst the students of Night Raven College. They didn't shy away from his... methods.

But they said they liked him. He wondered if that made him feel something. He wasn't one to like other people, stay around them long... especially these landfolk.

It was a foreign concept.

Oh dear. [Full Name], you've managed to intrigue me now.

To the concern of Deuce, Ace, and Grim, Jade Leech wouldn't be letting his human prey go any time soon. Not for Azul, or his brother... This was something he was pursuing now. For better or worse.

I hope they're prepared to best me once more.

What would they say if I said I "loved" them? ♪

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Imagine the rest for yourself~

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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[aeternallis]

Colin's jealousy just hits so well for me this season because unlike Simon and Anthony's jealousy (which mostly comes from male ego and physical lust), Colin's jealousy is born from something much deeper, beyond the surface-level, primitive instinct of seeing he has competition. That's not to say some of that isn't influencing Colin's actions, it most certainly is, but it's not the main force driving his emotions.

His jealousy doesn't come from out of nowhere, yknow?

His jealousy is born from shared history with one of the few genuine relationships in his life that he holds close to his heart, an unconscious, albeit cherished understanding that Penelope is a constant in his life. It's born from the slow, painful realization that he had lost her without even knowing it (further shaking his already flimsy resolve to try and fit into society's standards of being a typical rake), and whilst making a genuine effort to earn her good graces back, unwisely set himself up to lose her again.

Whereas Simon and Anthony's jealousy is superficial (and logically speaking, doesn't make much sense and only speaks to their self-entitlement due to their positions in society), Colin's jealousy is a humbling experience for him, which lends itself to his growth as a character and as a man. It's no wonder he'd described it as "a feeling that is like torture, but something he cannot, will not, does not want to give up."

Can y'all imagine Simon and Anthony having the same sentiment as that without it coming off as OOC? Simon was determined not to continue his family line and Anthony couldn't let go of his pride and obligations, pursuing Edwina until the latter had to set her foot down akjhdjsvbd If they had had any choice in the matter, both of them would have done their utmost to not have to feel anything towards their love interests pre-marriage. (Colin too made an attempt with that second brothel scene, but let's be real, it was half-assed at best)

Colin wants Penelope so much to the point he'd fully embraced even the torture of wanting her. And honestly? That's so damn refreshing to see, considering the typical romantic leads we usually see on television are trying to repress their emotions, not embrace it.

Colin yearns and wants, and he wants unashamedly. He's not jealous of Lord Debling; it's less about Lord Debling himself and the superb qualities he has that makes him an eligible gentleman specifically for Penelope and her circumstances, and more about being threatened by the concept of any other individual having the chance to establish that same emotional connection he has with Pen, and the possibility of that growing into something even more.

For all his kindness, Colin is actually quite possessive of that special connection he has with Penelope, and for a man who's already at odds and ends with his purpose in life and who he is in the grand scheme of the ton, understandably so.

It's why I knew in my gut during my first watch-through of s3 part 1 that although Colin had offered to help Pen find a husband by teaching her how to seduce men, he had never actually set out for it to be a successful endeavor. Lol If anything, it was just an excuse to be able to spend time with her. He had, albeit subconsciously, probably pictured the entire exercise to be something more along the lines of the incident with Lord Basilio, i.e. joking/gossiping w/ Pen about her prospective suitors and how unsuitable they are for her.

It's why Colin's excuses regarding Lord Debling about being a bad marriage prospect for Penelope sound so damn weak, his best reasoning being that he's "too particular."

For Colin, no man was ever going to be good enough for Penelope if it wasn't himself.

[cannellee]

HII!!! i’m literally in LOVE with your alpha mikey hcs!!! (^ ^) what if mikey has a super sweet and cuddly omega that can’t help but want to cling to him 24/7, she just can’t get enough of him! whenever she sees him she releases her super strong n sweet pheromones and chirps loudly as she runs up to him, her heart is so full of love for her alpha it feels like it’s gonna explode!! every time she sees mikey she just swoons for him🩷

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! mikey x omega! reader

— his reaction to a cute and extremely in love omega

my masterlist : ☆

(I looved writing this, this was such a cute idea. I hope I quite did what you had in mind!)

mikey would actually be ecstatic to have such a cute omega by his side! he's used to the harshness of his lifestyle and violent confrontations all the time, emma being his only source of warmth. mikey grows so attached to you and he lets you know it by how affectionate he is with you.

seeing you being so desperate for his attention, literally crawling over his laps just to get head pats and his eyes on you only, he feels all weird. it's still mind blowing that you reach for him in every occasion, look for him first in crowds and calls his name so happily like that.

he doesn't think he deserves all that love, you would be better off with a more gentle alpha, who doesn't have tons of enemies waiting for an opportunity to rip his throat off. someone who can give you a stable life and never worry you because of his night meetings he'd rather keep you out of.

still, he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. you're such a bundle of joy, your mellow voice and big doe eyes always do something to him. he never refuses any of your requests. you can hold his hands, play with his hair, ask for his food... everything is yours. he might crack a joke or too about how smitten you are, supposedly trying to make you shy, but you only nod excitedly and agree with a big yes. how cute is his omega.

mikey absolutely loves being the center of your life, despite what he tries to tell himself. he's aware your whole world revolves around him and he's thrilled to see your eyes always on him, even when you're in bigger groups. he would never take advantage of your attachment for him, but he does like to see you immediately cut one of your conversations short when he calls your name : watching you whip your head so fast in his direction, flashing him a big smile. he has that strange sense of purpose and pride every time you do, his chest feels so hot, why did you even take an interest in him when you're this precious and desirable? any alpha would kill for an omega like you.

and your scent... mikey doesn't think he has ever smelled something this good in his life. everything about you reminds him of home in the best ways possible. he can't believe he's the one drawing such a sweet scent out of you. it always amplifies in his presence, when he praises you, hugs you or kisses your temple. he can't get enough of it and he feels so lucky your pheromones never subside when you're together.

the adoration is mutual, you can't even imagine a life without mikey either. he's so strong and reliable, how can you not love him ? he teases you in ways only he can make you blush, pervert hands grabbing your ass or dirty promises in the crack of your ears. mikey feels really privileged to be able to touch and hold you in such ways, to be this intimate with you. he does things he would break another's arm's off for even imagining them.

he wants to protect that laugh of yours and wishes you will always look at him with heart eyes. he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable around him, no matter what he does outside.

he's quiet about his fondness for you, but he makes it up by snatching you up by the waist, carrying you in his arms, spending the day cuddling with you, literally breathing nothing but your pheromones. he never complains about your little 'outbursts' of affection towards him. he lets you grab his wrist - where his scent glands are - and rubs it all over yourself to smell just like him. or when you ask for his clothes : you actually don't even have to ask anymore, he'll let them on display in his room for you to take.

he loves you so much, he cherishes the fondness more than anything he has. he would go lengths to protect you and keep you safe, nobody should ever dare lay a hand on you or even wish to hurt you. mikey might not see himself as deserving of his adorable omega, but it doesn't mean he'll just let you slip away for another to win you over. he'll change for the best, he's sure that with your unconditional support he can do anything!

[moodymisty]

Heya Misty! Your blog has cheered me up so many times since I found it last year. Genuinely, thank you for everything you share with us. Its always a ton of fun here! If I'm not too late for requests, could I request some pred/prey smut with Leman? Wolfdaddy can always use more love :) and I hope the future has nothing but blessings in store for you xx

Author's note: BARK BARK

Relationships: Leman Russ/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Predator/Prey play, Oral (female receiving), Very light breeding kink

The tree branches scratch at your skin through your clothes, boots trampling through the deep snow. It's up to your mid calves- considered a light amount of snow on Fenris. You can feel your own hot breath fan across your face as you run through it, stumbling through the woods with no sense of direction.

Russ had given you a few hour head start, with the implication that you wouldn't even last till nightfall. You hadn't disagreed with him, though there was a sudden blossoming of pride in you that wanted to prove him wrong.

But the sun is starting to set, the sky is turning purple and orange; That sense of pride is now replaced with fear, you have a feeling he's toying with you.

You keep hearing leaves rustling and branches breaking without a trace of why, but always from a particular direction.

You know he's toying with you.

For just a moment you dare to try to stop and catch your breath, feeling your heart beat against your ribs. Your body feels hot in your clothes despite the temperature, though taking them off would be suicide in this icy chill.

A terrifyingly loud crunch has you taking your hands off your knees and putting your head on a swivel like a rabbit, taking off again through the thick snow trying to make any sort of distance- before realizing that it isn't an option.

Through the last few trees you can see the edge of the cliff, dropping down hundreds of feet into nothingness. Your throat burns in pain, each heavy breath is like knives against it's dry flesh as you stare into the abyss.

Russ herded you here- he's trying to trap you and succeeding.

"I can smell you, little wolf."

The deep rumble of his voice echoes through the trees, and you don't bother to look around before running. The snot in your nose is frozen and you can feel snowflakes against your skin, the cloth of your clothing dragging in the snow.

"You want to get bred. Once I catch you, I will."

There's absolutely nowhere to hide out here- The only foliage is the trees and even if you had the strength to climb them, you would only trap yourself for him. The instinctual want to get higher is a thing you have to fight within yourself to keep moving.

Not that he would complain if you trapped yourself; You're sure he's being lackadaisical on purpose to draw this out, to try and simulate a hunt that would actually require some effort.

"You make such good prey,"

Russ' revert back to baser, wolf taught instincts has him overjoyed at the struggling of what to him is a small animal, one who's heart is about ready to explode.

"I wonder if you could ever last the night out here."

You suddenly stumble over in the snow, the cold ice stinging your palms like needles. Through the cloud of your own breath you try and get to your feet and keep moving along the edge of the cliff to somewhere else- anywhere else, but you end up just stumbling over again as your body begins to give in.

You feel the ground rumble beneath your hands and knees and instantly your heart begins to race, the prey instinct of being injured and exposed.

"I can smell you're bleeding,"

He says, emerging from between the trees. You quickly try and scamper to your feet, only to fall right over again into the snow. A scream catches in your throat as the thought of fleeing overtakes you.

Russ however simply laughs at the struggling of his prey and quickly moves in to snatch you up, tying you wrists together as you try to escape from him.

"Let us get this bounty back to the Great Hall then, shall we."

You scream as he throws you over his shoulder, gripping you by the thigh and trudging through the snow leagues easier than you could.

There's no motion you could possibly make to free yourself from him now, and your heart finally begins to slow down once your mind catches up with the fact that this play hunt is over.

It's terrifying how a change in context can turn him into an absolute horror; And you know he's only playing.

Despite it being so easy however Russ seemed to very well enjoy it, bursting back into the blooming warmth of the Great Hall boots thundering on the ground. He tracks in snow from his boots, it crumbling to dust all over the floor and making a mess of the rugs.

"Ahh, father!"

One of the wolves guarding the hall speaks up with a pep in his voice and a warm flush to his cheeks from the chill outside.

"You finally got your prize I see!"

Embarrassment blooms on your face in a sudden explosion when you realize that Russ apparently not only told his sons about this little game, but more likely bragged about what his prize was going to be.

Russ lets out a chuckle from deep within his chest you feel vibrate in your gut, nodding at his astartes.

"Tell Bjorn he's in charge until the morn, I won't be interrupted unless it is urgent."

The wolf nods back, and watches Russ leave in the direction of his bedchambers. You are able to watch the wolf as he departs, giving you a keen look before leaving himself to presumably tell Bjorn of his temporary duties.

The entire time Russ has quite the firm hold on your thighs and ass, taking the fruit of his hunt right to his den. Once he gets there you're thrown onto the massive bed covered in pelts with little fanfare, hands still tied.

For a moment, the way Russ looks down on you is with that same predatory stare you saw out in the woods, and your heart begins to pick up pace as he approaches and hefts his weight onto the bed.

"You're taking this far more seriously than I-!" He suddenly pushes you around on the massive bed, wrapping the fabric around your wrists to connect you to part of the headboard. "Than I expected!"

Russ gives you a large, fang filled smirk.

"What, do I seem the type to half ass things?"

He doesn't quite care about your response, only about the way you squeak when he grabs hold of your clothes and rips them off of you bit by bit, the fabric scattered about. The snow you had also tracked in on your clothes dusts around the bed, some of it getting on your bare skin and making a shiver run up your body.

Your breath comes out of your throat shaking and ragged as he presses his face to your lower stomach, laughing as he grips your thighs. You can feel him intake a good breath of air as his beard digs into your skin.

"You smell even better than usual- should do this more often."

You don't know how you feel about that; You're so tired from all the running that your muscles are screaming in pain; You don't think you have the strength to do much more than lie here and simply let him have his way with you. Not that he will complain about enjoying his prize in such a way.

His mouth drifts lower, large hands pushing your thighs apart and back. You let out a soft noise in your throat.

He then presses his face between your thighs, mouth covering your cunt. He listens to the way you suddenly squeal and kick your legs, hands still locked above your head. You writhe underneath him with no way to even grab something to ground yourself, your whines echoing in the massive, high ceiling room.

The course, rough hair of his beard scratches against the skin of your thighs and outer lips, surely leaving you with hot, scuffed skin that will burn for days after. Russ finds it amusing, and will sometimes after he's done and sees the raw flesh will lick and kiss at it- listening to you try and whimper at him to stop.

You feel the deep groan he lets out rumble against your core, tongue brushing over your clit. Your thighs are tight trying to close around his head but he doesn't let them, pressing them back and far apart. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks listening to you squeal and writhe underneath him, before pulling away and laughing at the way your hips try to follow.

He drags his jaw against your leg scratching the soft skin with his beard. He can't resist giving it a quick bite also, leaving dents in the soft fat at the apex of your inner thigh.

He returns his mouth to your cunt and continues, feeling his sharp fangs occasionally catch at your skin. He may never be the most coordinated, but he makes up for it with an enthusiasm that has tears in the corners of your eyes; Spit mixing with the juices that leak from you neverending.

"R-Russ,"

Your stomach tenses almost painfully as he continues to lap at you, one hand leaving it's grip on your thighs to slip a finger past your entrance. You gasp and tighten around him, feeling the way his thick digit slips deep inside of you. It feels like he's trying to push up through your lower stomach with how deep his is, brushing deep towards your cervix.

Your one thigh pressing against his head now free, he slips a second finger inside of you and listens to you keen and writhe at the stretch. He chuckles, tongue dancing over your folds and overwhelming you until your stomach feels like it hurts so much it's going to explode; Clit throbbing underneath his tongue.

Your throat is raw from running for so long in the cold but this only makes it worse, letting out a ragged, shaking dry moan as you body goes limp and you cum on his fingers.

He continues for just a bit longer feeling the way you whimper at the overstimulation, milking every last bit out of you until there's nothing left.

Left panting and totally limp you feel his fingers leave your cunt, grimacing at the way they stretch you wider as they pull out. His mouth leaves and he wipes your juices, though it mostly smears them over his beard then actually cleaning himself.

Out of breath and limp you look up at him with wide eyes, watching as he starts to undress himself.

"Can you untie me first?"

You plead to him, watching as he undoes the top half of his clothes. You see his lower stomach, the trail of hair that leads down below his waistline and beneath his trousers.

"No. I quite like when my prey is tied up."

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 7

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos

Words: 3262

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake Seresin is a puzzle whose pieces, as you have come to see, are already slotted together. You learned tonight that a few of those pieces are worn from being picked at, but they don’t impede his ability to be complete. Jake is beautiful and smart with a well-built confidence and a certain quality that, with enough time, makes you want to open yourself up to him. Everything about him goes together. It all works. Those pieces make Jake the man he is, in all of his perfection. So being in his presence, you want to be who he wants you to be. You want to be just as put together. But you’re not sure you’re strong enough for that. 

“You can trust me,” he says, your hands still clasped together. You glance down at those hands, wondering when exactly he wove his fingers with yours. “I’ll share first if that’ll make it any easier.”

Eyes flicking up, you take in the intensity of the pair staring back at you—the depth within them, the swelling pupils that are pushing the green into a thin ring and drawing you in. They’re too honest, and it hits you like a ton of bricks.

Has anyone else ever looked at you this way? You think the closest instance you can recall involves the man you’d naively fallen in love with who lived in the first town you’d moved to on your own. But his look was a hidden lie discovered far too late. 

You suppose there was a fraction of Jake’s honesty in Millie’s eyes when she expressed her thoughts and told her story so openly. She would probably be willing to attempt understanding you if you offered it. 

You know you’re reaching, though. Trying to grasp at something that isn’t all there to prove that the way Jake is looking at you now is nothing unique. That it’s not special. That he doesn’t make your heart pound or your stomach flutter or cause a tingle to creep up your spine.

But when you consider telling him the truth of your history, you already sense the shame you’ve been living with for years preparing to double in force. And how can you allow that? You don’t need anything else weighing you down. You can’t possibly handle more. Certainly not from him. 

You tear your eyes away from his and aren’t shocked to find that that’s exactly what it feels like—a tear. A tearing that holds so much resistance you can practically hear the slow rip that severs the connection. 

“It’s not that easy,” you whisper.

“It can be,” he says, fingers tightening around yours. “You know how much I want to know you.”

The closing of your throat doesn’t allow you to swallow. An invisible hand is wrapped around your neck, blocking your oxygen, fogging your vision with unwanted tears. Your lip quivers all on its own.

Jake reaches out, lightly pressing his thumb to that lip as if he could stop its trembling. 

Then you shake your head and his thumb disappears. 

Standing, you try to step away, but his hand, still tangled with yours, stops you. You think he’s doing it on purpose, refusing to let you leave until he gets what he wants, but when you look at his face, it’s blank. His eyes stare ahead, the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and he doesn’t seem to feel you prying open his fingers to free your hand. 

His arm drops and slides into his lap, and you take that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom. 

You’re not quite through the door when you hear, “I wish you felt like you could trust me.” His voice is as defeated as his facial expression had shown. Low, dark, raspy. “Whatever it is, it's not going to change how I see you.”

You want to believe him so badly. So much so that, without any effort, you could let it consume you. But you can’t bet on his words. So you close your door the rest of the way. 

—

You’ve thought about him for a week straight, and each of those thoughts has scribbled their way into the notebook you’d sort of kind of—would deny it if anyone asked—stolen from the shop. 

But your little notes on Jake you don’t allow to blend with the chaotic notes of your past. He gets his own pages with words written in neater script. There’s not a single smudge of ink from your hand rubbing the paper in a rush to get your memories down before you forget some of their details. Not a single splotch of liquid black from a pen pressed too harshly onto the paper. No holes from that pen tracing the same words over and over in a fit of dampened anger. Like Jake, your notes on him are neat, and beautiful, and perfect in appearance. 

What they contain, however, is something different: bunches of sentences warring with one another as you try to decide what you’re going to do next. You live with him. You see him every day. You’ll have to interact, which means you’ll have to get over this hump. The only problem is that it may not be a hump Jake wants to get over.

In the months you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him the way he was that night last week. So much was crammed into a couple of hours and it provided you with a fresh image of him—not an image that changed, exactly, but simply an image that developed a new layer. And you liked having that layer of his visible, until it became clear that the spotlight was turning to you so you may develop another layer as well. 

Stepping out of that light meant plenty to you—you knew the message you were sending, even though you felt resistance from every part of you screaming to stay put—but it did more to Jake than you imagined, and that realization came in the form of Jake not speaking to over the past weeks worth of mornings, not smiling, not waiting for you so you could share breakfast. He’s gone before your alarm goes off. 

It only took you ten hours to notice the void that formed in your chest from missing him around you. After ten hours—most of which you spent trying to sleep—you felt awful in more ways than one. Not only were you exhausted and absorbing your dislike of his absence that first morning, but Jake, despite his hurt state, continues to take care of you. 

Those breakfasts he doesn’t wait around to share with you are still available, already made up on a plate with saran wrap keeping them safe in the fridge. The post-its he sticks to the coffee pot to inform you of said breakfasts never fail to have a small smiley face drawn in the corner. And to be fair, he does speak to you a little, but unless it seems to be a matter of life or death, which you haven’t been able to manage, his answers are clipped. Even then, it could be that those short answers are the best he can do for himself rather than anything he is doing for your benefit. With how much Jake talks in general, and with how lively you are used to seeing him, maybe he can’t be one-hundred percent silent no matter how much he wants to. 

Regardless of what it really is, the tension has grown thicker by the day.

These days are not ones you want to morph into routine. You can’t watch them settle and solidify when you crave him and what he adds to your new life to this degree. Which means you have to figure yourself out. Not all of you—that will take some time—but enough of you that you can approach Jake and take the chance to be honest with him. His offer to exchange stories shows that it is not just you who needs it, but Jake as well. 

That is what has prompted you to bring your notebook to work over the last seven days. And the more time you spend writing your notes, the more you release from your damaged soul, and the more good things about Jake start piling up. His faults are underwhelming and overshadowed, and all it confirms is that you want him back. So you decide that when he picks you up from work, something you never expected him to continue doing considering your current relationship, you’re going to break the silence by asking for another chance. 

—

When Rooster’s truck pulls up to the store, Millie is leaning halfway out the passenger side window, one hand waving your way, the other arm bracing her precarious position. A moment later, her elbow slips on the sill and she lurches forward with a sharp yelp. Looking past her, you can see Rooster reach over the center console and wrap his arm around her waist to pull her back to safety. 

“Babe, please,” he groans. “You’re stressing me out.”

She glances at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you hush. I’ve never fallen.”

“Yet,” he emphasizes. “I’d like it if my girlfriend stayed alive. I've got plans that involve you.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Darlin’. You know my hips will save me from making it all the way out the window.” 

Rooster only rolls his eyes in response before unwrapping his arm and giving her ass a light smack. 

Millie looks back at you, her grin wide and displaying a row of straight, white teeth. “Hey, honey. Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”

“You can only work so hard here,” you say with a weak chuckle. “Where’s Jake? Is he okay?”

You want that answer as much as you don’t. You pray he’s fine and safe, but then it means the tension that hasn’t dwindled the slightest has finally become too much for him. Though you’d rather he avoid you than be injured or ill, it hurts no less. Right as you devise a plan to bring the two of you back together, he pulls further away.

“Oh, he’s um…” Millie bites her lip.

“Staying on base tonight,” Rooster says, leaning back to meet your eyes over Millie’s shoulder. “He went in to get some extra work done and thought it would be easier.”

If the lie weren’t so terribly obvious, Rooster’s face would’ve betrayed him. The man is not a master of deception. He can’t pull it off. You suppose that bodes well for Millie, if he would ever dare tell her an untruth. Not that you can imagine a situation where he would. 

Millie’s nerves wipe from her face at her boyfriend’s explanation, and you almost snort from how cute they are. They operate as their own little team, supporting and backing their partner up to keep the other from falling. Whether they succeed in their mission, like trying to convince you Jake is busy, is another thing. 

Your little red-headed friend transforms back into her giddy self. “Right, so he asked us to come get ya,” she says with a wink.

Now that, you do believe. Jake may not want to see you, but he wouldn’t leave you stranded. And as disappointing as it is to see Rooster’s truck instead of the one you perfer, you know it’s not enough to convince you to give up on your end goal. With your plan thwarted, you only gain more time to figure out exactly how you’re going to bring up what you want to tell Jake.

—

You’ve decided Sundays are the best days. Sundays are easy days. They are days set aside for relaxing, where you can spend twenty-four hours in your home with only a robe wrapped around your body and not be judged. Many stores are closed on Sundays, the gift shop included, and most people don’t work, Jake included. And Jake Seresin, though not the type to sit around, does allow himself the mornings of Sundays to be what he would normally consider lazy. 

When you first moved in, you didn’t love this habit of his. Knowing no one but him and knowing no place but the apartment meant you didn’t do anything or see anyone else. He had you locked in with him for at least three hours before he met his team at the gym, and he took those three hours very seriously. Most of their minutes he dedicated to being around ta you,lking to you, asking you questions—anything you did, he was there to do it with you. And while it once bugged you a bit, it eventually grew on you. He grew on you. You stopped caring about how he spent his Sunday mornings because your routine and his melded into a comfortable place, and you've had no intentions of disrupting that—until now. 

After forgoing sleep to spend the entire night thinking about Jake, you’re sure you look like hell when you step out of your room and into the living room where he sits. You didn’t think to check yourself in the mirror, and Jake doesn’t acknowledge you in favor of reading his book to confirm or deny your likely-ragged state. 

You don’t care how you look, though. 

You care about pushing yourself forward. 

“Jake?” 

His hum is dismissive, but you don’t hold it against him. You understand his feelings too well, and you accept them. When he was so vulnerable and raw—when he told you something he’d not told even his closest friends—you denied him the same courtesy, and that decision hurt him. He aches. You still see it on his face and in his movements. The way his fingers gripped the book and his shoulders tensed the moment you entered the room. How he pulled his bottom lip inward and trapped it between his teeth and has yet to let it go. 

He’s trying to hide the discomfort your presence causes, and he is doing so well that, as someone with plenty of experience, you’re almost proud. But the act unravels completely when you say, “I trust you.”

His head slowly rises. Then, closing the book and setting it aside, Jake stands from his spot on the couch, brow pinched as if he had not heard you correctly. “What did you say?”

“I trust you,” you repeat. 

One hand settles on his hip as the other goes through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut in a two-second long blink as if trying to snap himself awake. Lips part, perhaps to say something, anything, but then they seal again. 

Before you lose your nerve, you inhale, exhale, and with a single nod, mutter to yourself a final, “I trust him.” 

Then you spew out everything you’ve kept inside—everything you’ve kept away from him. 

“My parents left me,” you say aloud for the very first time. You try to hold them back, but tears accompany that statement, gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Dad first, when I was nine. Mom when I was fourteen. They left and I don’t know where they are, and I don’t really care, but they disappeared and it…it messed me up. It left me lost, and I learned to let people hurt me because no one showed me anything else. I let people treat me however they want, which most often means attacking the insecure parts of me. I let them call me names and look at me in ways that strip me of my dignity, and I can’t stop it. I don’t stop them.

“When I can’t take it anymore, I leave wherever I am,” you say before pausing to catch your breath. 

Jake doesn’t take the opportunity to speak. He stands there, staring, listening, waiting for you to offer him more. 

“You weren’t that far off at the diner when you said I was trying to live in every beach town for two months before moving on to the next. They haven’t all been beach towns, but there have been many of them and I never stay for long,” you admit. “The minute I have the means, I go. I graduated high school by myself and left my hometown, fell in love with an asshole in the second town and left, got a job at a bar whose drunks found me an easy target, so I left again, and it’s been the same everywhere I’ve landed, again and again and again. People break me down so I find someplace new. You are—” You cut yourself off to reconsider your words, “This is my eleventh new place.” One of those tears breaks free to slide down your cheek. “And I don’t know how long I’m going to last here, but I already hate the thought of leaving.”

Done with your speech, you release a heavy breath.

When Jake looks away from you, it’s a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Your heart crushes with the realization that you were right. Jake was wrong. Seeing you differently is not as difficult as you had hoped and he had promised. In fact, he doesn’t see you at all anymore because he won’t even give you a glance. You presented the reality that you are unloved and unwanted and explained exactly why that is, and now he has in his hand all of the reasons why others mistreat you, the ability to evaluate those reasons, and decide for himself if those reasons are valid. 

And in that moment, you know you are fucked. You’re about to be lost again. On your own, in the dark, with nothing to hold on to. Not that you didn’t anticipate this coming along eventually, but you would have liked to stick around a little longer. 

Through the blur of tears, you see Jake nod. That’s all. No words, no shift in facial expression; he nods to the floor rather than give you the respect of nodding to your face. He nods again, and then he looks up to meet your gaze. 

Jake’s hands fall from his hips, and in four strides he closes the space keeping you apart, cups your jaw in the heat of his palms, and plants his lips on yours. 

His kiss lands somewhere between hard and soft, between eager and restrained, between needy and downright desperate. And after adjusting to the shock he plunged you into, your mouth begins to move against his. 

Jake is warm, and cozy; he tastes like the one Splenda packet he puts in the oatmeal he occasionally has for breakfast, and it all makes your brain hum in a comfortable delight. You take from him all that he takes from you, and give to him all that he gives you, and in the process, accept that you truly want this and he wants this and that’s all that matters. You’re not working harder to please him than he is working to please you. You’re not thinking about what he will think when your lips separate. You’re not afraid of being a disappointment because were that the case, surely he would have released you by now. But he hasn’t released you. He holds on and pulls closer and doesn’t let go, not even when the kiss breaks.

Thumbs stroke your cheeks as your eyes slowly drag from his swollen lips to his nose to that mossy-green shade you’ve become attached to. There’s a hint of concern in his stare. But then you smile, so he smiles, and the concern fades. 

“Your turn,” you whisper.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of my earlier jobs in life was at a little pizza place. I worked there when it was first starting up. It’s the only job I’ve ever been fired from and it was because a new manager came in and cleaned house. Because my state requires a reason to be fired he said I used too much pepperoni. So now on job applications I get to write that I was fired for “excessive use of pepperoni.” Never fails to get a laugh.

Anyway! For this story to make sense I’ve first got to set the stage. This pizza place started out as the Wild West of management but one of the original investors was super committed to work programs through the prison. We hired a ton of ex convicts and they were all, to a one, super hyped on Christianity. Like born again for the sole purpose of lauding Christ with their every breath.

I hadn’t been working there long but I’d definitely noticed the Jesus bug had gone around, and as I’ve never been religious at all I tried to steer clear of the topic for my own safety.

The day our story takes place, I was folding boxes. Anyone whose ever worked pizza can attest, there’s so much box folding. It’s something that happens at every lull, the pizza machine demands box folding on a grand and epic scale.

On my right folding his stack of boxes was a guy wider than he was tall, made of pure muscle, Corey. He was newer on staff, and due to a stutter he didn’t talk much. All I knew about him was that he got hired through the rehabilitation program and had done time.

On my left folding was a tall middle-aged woman who loved to yell at me, Cindy. She and I rubbed each other the wrong way and had nothing in common, leading to a tense working relationship.

We folded boxes in silence. This was really my best case scenario as a quiet Cindy was a Cindy not riding my ass, and Corey intimidated me.

But the weight of the silence grew too much for Cindy, who finally said, “I really want to go to bible school.”

I folded a box. I had less than no idea what bible school even was and I didn’t want to get sucked into a religious topic.

On my right Corey said, “W-why, Cindy?”

“Well, cause I believe what’s in the Bible, but I just don’t know it all.”

He nodded sagely to this.

Cindy continued, “And every time I sit down to read the Bible I get real sleepy. And I know it’s the devil.”

It’s so hard to convey her tone in written format. It was delivered with the emphasis and exasperation of an inevitable inconvenience. Like, I just know it’s the squirrels eating the bird seed.

I froze in place at this pronouncement. My only exposure to Lucifer was Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics and I was trying to mentally twist into a frame of mind where The Morningstar cared enough about this one middle aged lady expanding her knowledge of the Bible that he followed her around cursing her with sleepiness when she picked it up.

I think I expected Corey to say, “Well that’s silly,” or something to acknowledge what a bizarre thing Cindy had just said.

Instead he said, “Yeah!” In a tone of complete agreement.

I didn’t look up. I tried to keep my face neutral at this development.

But something must have shown. Corey said, “You don’t believe in God?”

I shrugged casually and said, “If I did I wouldn’t talk about it at work.”

“C-cause it’s t-true. If y-you t-ry to r-read the B-bible on unsanctif-fied gr-round the d-devil m-makes you s-sleepy!”

I made a noncommittal sound and fled into the back room.

Over the next week it drove me crazy though. The logic of it wouldn’t leave me alone so finally one day when it was just Corey and I in front, and the restaurant was empty, I said, “Hey man, I have a question.”

He shrugged and listened.

“I really don’t mean this with any disrespect, I just genuinely want to know about the logistics-“

“J-ust ask.”

“Okay, so if Cindy gets tired when she reads any book, is it only the devil making her tired when it’s the Bible?”

His face went purple with fury and he yelled, “F-fuck you!” at my retreating back as I fled once more into the back room.

It will forever remain a mystery.

[herejusttosufferalong]

I think L gave us a lot of hints/messages about what might be going on post-premiere in that Jimmy F appearance. Let’s note that this was after Papgate, after his and N’s social media posts in the fallout period, and after Milan if I am remember correctly? The more I think about it the more I think his team crafted the content we saw to reset his public image, explain some things, and encourage the audience to give him some grace. It was damage control/positive PR/but also some explanations for what we are seeing.

First off, he came off relaxed and confident, a big contrast from how stressed he looked when he had been papped. I think they were also trying to portray him as a friendly and relatable regular guy who had suddenly been thrust into fame as a heartthrob and romantic lead.

Him running from the carriage scene music/talking about how he is not used to the level of fame and exposure and recognition that has come with the success of the show (barber story, needing security in Brazil).

The reference to JB passing down the guide that was called “How to fall in love in front of 82 million people” - more messaging that it is difficult to have that level of scrutiny and specifically when playing a romantic lead when you have insane chemistry with your costar.

The romantic lines, read B-ton style (these are so L/N coded and reference things L or N have brought up in interviews, with the exception of “East Peasy Lemon Squeezy.) We’ve got:

Espresso lyrics - song with significance to the ship, also what L was listening to getting ready for the London premiere, Honeybee, come get that pollen lyrics

“Penelope, we were on a break!” -this is the biggest hint right here of why L was papped/appears in a relationship with another woman after we have seen his and N’s chemistry jump off the screen for 6 months and also in the show itself. THEY (N/L) WERE ON A BREAK. I don’t think he wanted to be on a break, but they were, and I think they’re now on another one while he tries to get his affairs in order. And note that he says “Penelope,” not Rachel, which would be the accurate pop culture quote. Which doesn’t really make sense because he and P are never on a break during the show unless you count the time she stops writing to him and he goes off the rails. Penelope is code for N. Also he is referencing the R/R relationship/timing issues again.

Then the Barbie quote. I think this somewhat addresses him being attached to a strong beautiful powerful woman (LWD or N, take your pick) and that dynamic of potentially being overshadowed and having to find your own self worth in order to handle it . I don’t think that last part about being her Ken was scripted (JF even gives him a wtf look and then it gets cut when it airs), but he made it clear he is happy being her Ken. He basically claims his ass as hers on National TV without meaning to.

I think the interview didn’t have purposeful mention of N for a reason, he was trying to emphasize his role as a B-bro and an actor and romantic lead in his own right, and connect him to the other male leads, and the clip they chose showed that.

He then follows up with a social media post confirming a late night/non-work/non PR beach walk with N and said security guards. I mean… that was a date, and for him to post that in the face of everyone saying he had hard-launched A and he and N were “all PR” is crazy. They also have to be aware of all of the Brazil reports and speculation.

I think the messaging was: This is level of fame and exposure is new, he’s figuring it out, give him a break. Also, everything is okay between N&L so don’t worry, there may be reasons for why what we are seeing doesn’t make sense but they are figuring it out between them.

Would the general audience pick up on all of that? No, but the hardcore fans would so they layered it all in there. Maybe his PR team isn’t that dumb afterall?

I know there’s speculation N was there- I don’t know if she was but her immediate like definitely showed support and that they are still a team. Wouldn’t surprise me if she had a hand in some of that strategy.

I think this is the first in depth analysis I have ever seen on the JF appearance that I mostly agree with.

Thanks for sharing 💜🥃

[buckysgrace]

Billy Hargrove Headcanons <3

Requested <3 I hope you enjoy my ramblings!!

Was such a cute baby with lil blonde curls, rosy cheeks and a soft nose that strangers always thought he was a little girl lol

Used to love when his mama would play with his hair. He hated naps as a child, but always passed out once she'd trace her fingertips across his soft cheeks and squishy nose

His mom loved holidays. Especially Halloween and Christmas. He spent many Halloweens dressed as a lion lol

She also took him to get ice cream on his birthdays <3 His favorite was chocolate.

Was really close to his grandma up until she passed away. Used to spend long afternoons and even stay for weekends when he was little, and Neil was working.

Loooooves sports. Has played a vast majority of them (baseball is his favorite). He played a different one each season while in school to get him away from the house

Worked all throughout high school. Had a ton of odd jobs

Also loved summer camp.

Enjoys deep sea fishing. Neil did a lot of trips with him as a sort of “apology” (he caught a bluefin tuna when he was 13 hehe)

He’s very very dry, has a sarcastic sense of humor <3

When he’s high he gets very relaxed and chill, very laid back. Will occasionally get giggly

Very good with his hands. He likes to tinker with things. Worked on his car a lot, likes to build things too (had a very impressive bird house that he built in woodshop)

He loves vegetables. Specifically tomatoes and bell peppers. Bites right into them, a nice lil snack

He's up at 3 in the morning?? He is devouring a jar of pepperoncini. maybe some shredded cheese

Not crazy about sweets, but if he has to pick something it would be some sort of fruit pie?? will also pound away at a pineapple upside down cake

makes a meaaaaan spicy Italian sandwich

Also crazy about protein. He's gotta bulk up ya know. Hates eggs though. They smell terrible and the texture is awful

Really good at math, loves working with numbers. He will chew on his pencil/pen while he's working out a problem (and if he accidentally eats the eraser?? that's his own business smh)

Got a lot of college offers because of his grades and talents in sports but didn't take any of them up. College just never seemed like his thing

Will hike his swimming trunks up to get a nice even tan on his upper thighs. The cutest little tan lines imaginable.

Reads while he sits on the toilet. Also smokes (and will purposely linger in the bathroom if Max knocks on the door smh)

Horror and mystery are his favorite genres. His all time favorite book is The Haunted Dancers.

Surprisingly good with kids. They just love him, sweet Mr. Billy hehe. Babies love at him. They will stare at him and enjoy snuggling into his arms :) And chewing on his arms lmao (or tugging on his hair smh)

Haaates the winter months. He does not like the cold at all and hates bundling up in thick layers even more (he's a man damn it he doesn't need any gloves smh)

Icy roads absolutely terrified him in Hawkins. He was not used to driving on them at all. An incredible snow ball former tho (he will hit you in the face with them rip)

The first time he heard the tornado siren go off he was alone with Max and had no idea what to do (she was outside trying to see it smh)

A little rain is okay but he prefers the sunny sunshine and heat to anything else <3

[hellsburners]

thin walls

summary: this new york city apartment has terrible walls! pairing: matt murdock x gender neutral!reader word count: 934 warnings: 18+ warning, masturbation, perv!matt, eavesdropping, mutual masturbation kinda?, sex toy use, neighbor!matt a/n: was writing for a request but this prompt came to mind lol.

masterlist | more matt murdock

Matt Murdock let out a yawn listening to his screen reader, neck aching, lids half-hooded at this point. It was well beyond the night for this lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen. It was definitely nothing new, taking hours doing research for a case. The week has been busy for him, balancing pro-bono cases and bigger cases to pay for the bills, this didn’t even include his nightly duties to the Kitchen. 

Matt was in his dining area with his laptop and tons of paperwork, one earbud on as the robotic voice of the reader blurred in his tired brain. He pauses the audio and rests his face on his hands. The sounds of his neighborhood started to flood his senses, the dogs barking, the couples fighting, the crying babies, it was all making his head hurt. He tries to breathe his way into silencing the noises, purely focusing on blocking them all out when he hears a moan and buzzing sound from the unit next door. He knew who you were, you’ve exchanged greetings before, you even gave him packed food on Christmas day. It was a warm gesture, something that rarely happens in this neighborhood he loves to protect. 

With Matt tuning his senses to the sounds coming from your room he hears what you’re doing clearly. You were on your bed, he heard the way the bed creaks and the way the cotton sheets brush on your shirt, you were completely naked waist down, the vibrating toy in between your legs teases you sex. It was a gift from your friend, you told them it was embarrassing and that you would never use it anyway, but here you were holding the six-inch pink vibrator in your hands. 

On the other side of the wall Matt could hear you spread lube on the vibrating device. He furrowed his brows and removed the earbud to fully listen to what’s happening. Matt knew it was wrong, he purposely intended to only use his hightented abilities for good, not for eavesdropping on your neighbor masturbating. He loosens his tie from the heat starting to burn inside him, unbuttoning the first two buttons from his shirt. He hears your soft moans from you teasing your sex with the vibrator, you try to increase the intensity and you suddenly shudder from the shock of pleasure. At the same time, Matt could feel his own erection form. 

Your mind wandered to the hot neighbor you had, with his red glasses, unkempt stubble, and his soft lips. You wondered what it would feel to have those lips on your skin, the softness of his kisses with the roughness of his facial hair trailing down your body to your center. Your eyes closed as you dive deeper into your fantasy, moaning while your thighs move closer. You were reminded of that time you saw him take a package left on his doorstep with the name “Foggy” written on it. He was only clothed from the waist down with worn out sweatpants with the hems tucked into old cotton socks. You marveled at his toned body, his big arms, his broad chest and his abs. You couldn’t help but stare as he bent down and his muscles contracted into deeper lines making them more defined. 

“Fuck,” you said as you started to put the vibrator in your sex, feeling your muscles tense and give into the sensations. The lube added more ease to the thrusts you were doing to your center. You gripped the sheets as you moaned. In your head the pleasure wasn’t from a toy but from the man in the unit next door. 

Behind the thin wall Matt Murdock was also in the middle of pleasure. He had opened his trousers and was pumping his dick to the sounds from the other room. Your voice starts to pitch higher from the immense pleasure. You muffle your moans with your other hand as you continue to fuck yourself. In a twisted use of his abilities, Matt could single out the  moments the vibrator would go in and out of you. He used that chance to pump his dick in the same rhythm to yours. 

Come on, sweetheart, let me hear your moans, he whispers under his breath, his chest rising and falling. He spits into his cock to give him some lubrication so his thrusts could be faster. You were a whimpering mess, your hand leaves your mouth to play with your nipples. You wanted to call for his name. The name of the man next door. Matt was it? Your orgasm was close. Your body slightly convulsing, tears pooling in your eyes. You wanted him so badly, want to feel his cock as it thrusts inside you. You want to feel him lose himself in your arms. A carnal desire looms over the both of you.

“I want you so bad, Matt,” you moaned. Matt was shocked to hear you moan his name, and how you wanted him. Wanton lust pulses through Matt’s body as he cums. His senses focusing on your beautiful noises, his cum pools on his abdomen as he climaxes.

The tension inside you loosens as you give out your release. You give out one last moan before you fall back to the mattress. You turn off the device and take it out of you. You lay there in your bed, ashamed of what you’ve done. The same way Matt feels. Sin won tonight in Hell’s Kitchen, wherein you and the devil lost yourselves to lust. Matt wondered if it would happen again tomorrow night. 

He grins.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

☀️ Get ready for some Cowbell thoughts this morning ☀️

He is completely blind. 0% vision.

His other senses are heightened so that’s how he gets around and recognizes people.

He can hear heartbeats, it’s like a fingerprint to him. Everyone’s is slightly different.

He has a self-taught form of echolocation.

He is Mountains cousin, therefore is also lanky and freakishly tall. Bell is a lot more extroverted though.

Has a SHIT ton of piercings, loves the way it feels on his skin and body. He will gladly let you find them all.

I picture him as an Air/Earth multi?

Forked tongue king 👑 (yes that way too)

Is kind of a brat? “A cocky little shit” - Terzo

Fangs for dayyyysssss and knows how to use them…

Suns away? The demon plays~

I have this idea that his veins glow green in the dark? He can absolutely control this for easier hunting, using the light (or absence of it) to lure in prey so he doesn’t have to chase.

He can also camouflage really well?

He used that skill as a kit to survive cause he couldn’t see, but now he uses it to creep around the Abbey and watch.

Something is definitely not right with this one.

[NSFW thoughts under the cut!!! MINORS DO NOT READ FURTHER!!]

The new more naive summons are almost always drawn to his unsettling aura. He’s like a siren.

It’s like they can’t resist his entrancing charm and he looooves to have his way with them…

He won’t admit it, but his favourite part is when they keep coming back begging for more

And he’s nothing but eager to help.

Alpha and Omega have told him off many times, but what can he do when they look so lost and helpless??

He's got a venom that acts as an aphrodisiac. It's supposed to help him hunt so his prey doesn't run away, but he uses it for other purposes now...

Because of complications with his birth, he’s completely sterile (much to the relief of the Clergy) which makes him perfect for helping with Ghoulette’s heat cycles.

Happily providing the relief they need without the fear of getting them pregnant.

Loves to pretend he can though~ ‘You look so pretty carrying my kits.’ ‘Shall we see if this one will take?’

(If they do want kits, Aether is more than willing to give them a whole litter (breeding bull aether hc? just yes 😍) )

Knows Aether would be a better father anyway…

//

These were just some of my thoughts, no need to agree with me I just had a lot of Bell on the brain today 🖤

[filthgarbage86]

I JUST HAD A THOUGHT

Okay so think about it; I’m sure Eddie doesn’t hang out with a ton of girls, not on purpose, he just mainly hangs out with the hellfire club and his band members.

Then you show up

And you fit right in with everyone. It’s so easy to talk to you since you both have similar interests and you’re very chill about everything. Sure you get excited and into the game play but overall you just like to hang and talk about similar interests! You hang out, listen to music and what not. He loves spending time with you, he feels so relaxed around you.

Maybe a little too relaxed. You don’t mind of course because you know, Eddie is just your friend. He’s made that painfully clear that he just sees you as another one of his guy friends, which is fine.

Then one day, he’s walking around town and he sees you in the video rental store talking to Robin. You guys are going crazy over something and he realizes you’re giggling and there’s something else… he can’t put his finger on it but he knows he’s blushing. He better go say hi and see what’s so funny.

He walks in and Robin greets him half assed as soon as she recognizes who it is and gives him a witty one liner.

“Whatcha guys talking about?”

“Oh Robin was just telling me about the new Tom Cruise movie that just came out. Apparently Nancy is reeeaaalllyyyy into him but he’s not really my type”

He stands there a bit dumbfounded

“You’re… you’re talking about.. Tom cruise? And your type?”

“It sounds silly but Robin says it’s a good movie! Maybe I’ll have to watch and see what Nancy sees in him” you and Robin both laugh at the thought a little bit

Eddie is just staring at you, realizing he’s caught you talking to your friend.. about boys. and he would have this ridiculous epiphany. “You really are a girl”

You stiffen a bit and it doesn’t go unnoticed “Uhh yeah… last time I checked Ed, what have I been this whole time? An alien?” You’re not dumb, again, you know exactly how Eddie saw you but this just drove the knife a bit deeper.

“No that’s not- I didn’t mean- no I just-“

Robin let’s out an exhausted sigh “look dorky ozwad, just because she plays dnd with you and goes to concerts and knows how to hang doesn’t make her any less of a girl. It’s the 80s dude, girls can like fantasy and metal just as much as they like romance”

Eddie stands there dumbfounded, he’d feel like an idiot. He knows it shouldn’t matter and to him it still doesn’t. He just never realized how “bro-y” he had been towards you. And it makes him feel silly. Now everything makes sense as to why he always likes to watch you smile and laugh (he’d do anything to make you laugh) or why he always wants to hang out with you. He likes you. More than just a friend, and not even just because you’re a girl- because you’re YOU. He just forgot that sometimes to get the girl, you have to treat her with a bit more rizz than he would a guy friend.

He’d be standing there an awful long time and your also standing there in silence, blushing profusely at everything that just unfolded. Of course you told Robin about feeling just like another one of his friends which would have been FINE with you.. but it wasn’t really. You wanted him to look at you differently, not entirely, but just enough to see you in a different light.

After that day he does. He notices the way you greet everyone with a bit of a pep to your step. How you always make sure you have a good outfit, even when you’re just lazing about. You always are prepared for every situation, and most of all, he notices every kindness you share to those around you. You’re sweet, you’re nice, and you’re so pretty it’s ridiculous. He’s been so blind this whole time because on top of all that, you go into battle every week during hellfire with no mercy. You go to metal concerts and are in the middle of most mosh pits. You are able to stand your ground in any argument big or small, and you can out do any of the guys in any random prank or dare.

You are perfect to him. He knows this. Now he has to figure out how to make sure YOU know he thinks you’re perfect.

He has no IDEA where to start

“I NEED ADVICE” as he slams the doors to the video rental place, to see not only Robin but also Steve. Perfect.

“Whoa dude okay are you finally ready to listen to other things besides screaming for 10 minutes?”

“For the last time, it is music, and no that’s not what I’m here for” he’d look at Robin and she’d smirk “ahh.. you’re finally here for lady advice I see”

“Lady advice? You? Who’s the lucky gal? Is it y/n? Took you long enough-

“I KNOW I know but I don’t know what to do.”

“Just you know.. treat her like a girl

Robin elbows him “dude, come on, what era are you two from? different wording. Treat her like she’s special. Treat her like you would do anything to make her happy”

“I would do that, but I don’t know HOW that’s why I’m here”

Robin groans “look, you guys hang out ALL the time, SURELY you’ve noticed SOMETHING she wants a guy to do for her”

something a guy could do for her…

—————————————————————

The next morning you’d be making your way to your locker when you notice Eddie is already there.

With his hair pulled back into a low messy bun. And he’s wearing a button up. And he looks like he’s either going to freak any second or faint in the process.

“Good morning Eddie. What’s with the get up? I’ve NEVER seen you this formal… are you wearing cologne?”

“Haha yeah uh- um- I am. I was trying to smell nice compared to the normal weed, beer, and cornflakes-“

“I like your normal smell”

“What? No that’s not- we’ll come back to that” You’ve been there all of 10 seconds and he’d already be flushed. you giggle and only just realize then that he’s holding something behind his back. He pulls out a bouquet of flowers, beautiful and bright

You feel so bad for trying not to laugh. He notices immediately and starts to regret everything. Of course you wouldn’t like this, or him. He puts them away but you’d grab his arm back out and take the flowers, still giggling to yourself

“I’m sorry, sorry, I’m being so incredibly rude. This is VERY sweet of you, but this is SO out of character for you. What’s going on?”

“Well you know.. after the other day with Robin I realized I’ve never really shown you.. how.. I feel about you? And like sure we play dnd together and you come to my concerts and we are together all the time because I love being around you but you.. deserve to be treated like you’re special. Because you are.. to me..”

He wishes the ground could swallow him whole

You look at him with those gentle eyes and you look back at this bouquet he’s brought you and you just smile so big. “Well.. you certainly have made me feel special right now. But next time, just know you do not have to dress up like a job-monkey. I think your jacket is hot enough”

He lights up “really? You like my jacket?”

“Duh. I like everything about you, even the nasty things, and believe me you’ve got those. But I like that you treat me like me. Like a person. Not just a playtoy or separate species. I will admit though, it would be nice if you held my hand or showed any kind of affection”

He’s looking at you dumbfounded. You’d just take it as your cue to grab his hand and start walking towards your English class together. You stop by his locker though so he can change and eventually the two of you are just as you were, but a little bit more. He gets more comfortable with you and eventually everything works out as you planned it- after all, flirting with boys especially Eddie isn’t rocket science.

[secriden]

love sea episode 2 rewatch thoughts:

in hindsight, this opening should've clued us in that this episode was going to be horny as fuck.

ok so if episode 1 was about establishing mahasamut, i think the purpose of episode 2 is really to give us a much more nuanced introduction to tongrak. what's fascinating is that the show chooses to impart this insight to us through a rather unusual medium: sex (and, specifically, tongrak's attitude about sex).

we open with kinky kinky beach sex and it tells us that tongrak is impulsive, hedonistic, and tends to give into the emotions of the moment (something that, as the series develops, he does with increasingly self-sabotaging results; eg. when he lashes out at mahasamut after the 1st run in with prin or when he runs off to appease jak when he gets fearful in episode 9).

it also tells us that tongrak is very comfortable with his physical wants and needs. sure, mahasamut kinda flusters him because he awakens desires that are more intense than he's is used to, but tongrak's still grounded enough in his sense of self that he can roll with it pretty quickly and becomes an active, willing, even enthusiastic participant. (it's not going to be his physical desire that drives a wedge between them; its going to be the emotional connection that ends up being terrifying to tongrak.)

this episode also lays a ton of groundwork to set up why and how intensely mahasamut and tongrak are drawn to each other.

a lot of it, early on, is purely physical.

mahasamut and tongrak clock that they're compatible in their (D/s) kink immediately and they embrace this with gleeful abandonment. other people have made this point a lot more clearly than i could ever hope to (see @williamrikers excellent analysis of mutrak's kink dynamic), so i won't belabour the point, but i would like to point out how thoroughly the show wants the audience to know that these two are a perfect match physically and sexually (specifically with their particular kinks) and that they are incredibly comfortable with that.

(an aside: one thing i adore about peat's portrayal of tongrak's submissiveness in the beach scene is the way he starts out being the initiator in the kiss - in the gif above, it's tongrak that grabs mahasamut and yanks him into the kiss at first - but once its clear that mahasamut is on board, tongrak is almost constantly angled up, head tipped back, responding to mahasamut's cues but making no attempt to direct whats happening. there's so much surrender in the pliant way peat holds himself as they kiss and the way he goes from pulling mahasamut into the kiss to just clinging to his torso as he lets mahasamut take control. even when he reaches for mahasamut's dick, the second mahasamut pins him down and gives him an instruction, tongrak makes no attempt to redirect and just goes with what mahasamut wants. there's just such great detail in this portrayal of surrender.)

but what makes this encounter different (from the many, many other ones they've both had) is going to be how neither of them were able to keep this connection as purely physical for very long. (this is what episode 3 is for, though, so lets put a pin in that thought.)

back to insights into tongrak's character: we also get an escalation/confirmation about how tongrak views sex (and relationships) as purely transactional. tongrak's entire backstory is grounded in the idea that 'everybody has a price' because that's what his parents showed him. to tongrak, every human interaction is about finding the right things to give (usually money in his case) to get what he wants and this has allowed him to rationalise that feelings and emotions (both his own/the other person's) don't matter.

tongrak firmly believes that as long as he's offering something of sufficient (monetary) value, he's perfectly within rights to demand what he wants without consulting mahasamut's feelings, wants, or thoughts about the matter. in fact, he thinks of mahasamut as kind of an object for his sexual gratification and/or convenience. this is why he feels no remorse about kicking mahasamut out after they have sex even though mahasamut clearly wants to cuddle/come down from the physical high together. the next morning, it never pings to him that he should be guilty about how he treated mahasamut.

(look at his face. he's such an entitled diva. i love him so much.)

not only is this attitude - in reality - a very inaccurate way to view human beings (because as a species we are creatures very much led by our emotions), but it is the source of tongrak's own dissatisfaction and unhappiness. he never acknowledges any of his own emotional needs and so cannot manage or address them in a meaningful or healthy way.

so to summarise tongrak understands and is comfortable with his physical desires but does not know how to even acknowledge his emotional ones whilst impulsively being led by them in the heat of the moment: already we can see that this is a recipe for disaster and tells an unspoken story of pain and trauma.

(i also want to mention how well mahasamut continues to respond to tongrak's specific brand of caustic entitlement. he doesn't bother making a big deal about tongrak throwing money at him, but he also never names a price for his 'services' either. he blatantly refers to tongrak as his "owner" but also makes it clear that it's not tongrak's money that's keeping him around, but rather mahasamut's own desire for tongrak. it's like he'll act in tongrak's play but he won't quite stick to the script either. its so, so effective because he doesn't trigger tongrak's fight or flight response but he's still undermining and proving tongrak's assumptions wrong at every turn. this is what allows mahasamut to worm his way behind tongrak's walls whilst simultaneously chipping away at them.)

one last little bit of (this time non-sex-adjacent) insight into tongrak: he has a great capacity for compassion. (which will, eventually, turn into love.)

mahasamut, at this point, is mostly just an incredible lay to tongrak. but already he shows care and concern for mahasamut that's separate from what he can offer tongrak. he's concerned at a (relatively minor) hint that mahasamut has been mistreated in the past and then again concerned that mahasamut will suffer the repercussions of any hit to his reputation. [note: this is informed by a backstory regarding homophobia on the island that's from Khom/Connor's story in Love Sand, but even without that insight we can see tongrak's concern is for mahasamut.] (again, this is something the show is setting up to callback to later when tongrak gets offended on mahasamut's behalf when he thinks the waiter made fun of mahasamut.)

these little glimpses give us such a contrasting perspective on tongrak compared to episode 1, where he was mostly just a rich, entitled, and fairly unlikable character. we're being shown that what we've seen so far is really a mask as tongrak's true character slowly starts bleeding through as he has more interactions with mahasamut.

and then the episode closes on heartbreak: You're aware aren't you? Love is just a figment of our imagination.

tongrak's expression right before he says this is filled with resignation and disappointment. he hates that he has to say it but he feels its his duty to burst mahasamut's bubble. he genuinely believes this and so to him he's just doing mahasamut a favour by telling him a Truth about life. for us, this is the final crack in the mask and we see just how lost and fragile and hurt tongrak truly is.

(and the way peat sells this part - the cold almost clinical look in his eyes when he says the line. the tiny pout of his lips like tongrak can't help but feel sad about it, even though he accepts it as reality. the cold, flat tone peat uses to deliver the line when tongrak's usually quite expressive and uses lots of inflections and intonations in his speech. ugh <3)

but this is also really important because this is why we, the audience, start to care about tongrak. mame takes us on this journey, sets us up to wonder why tongrak's the main character when he starts out kinda of awful and then shifts the ground out from under us by showing us his soft, wounded underbelly. we can't help but want him to be loved, now, and this is why we become invested in 'tongrak mahasamut'.

[bosbas]

Chapter 7: you search in every maiden's bed for something greater

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, misogyny (not by anyone relevant dw), idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, mentions of sex and drinking

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: errr.... it's going to get worse before it gets better. sorry in advance

June 19, 1814 - Perhaps word of this author's disappointment by the ton's lack of happenings has reached Bridgerton ears. Whispers around the ton indicate that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton has been packing his belongings for an extended duration, leading one to speculate if this departure is more than a fleeting journey. The observant eyes of society are left to wonder about the purpose behind such preparations and whether, in the midst of packing, the second Bidgerton son is inadvertently leaving behind not only his material possessions but also a potential union with a certain Miss Beaumont.

Benedict was just about done packing, disappointed that his upcoming trip had been pointed out in the ton's gossip column. He was hoping to slip out relatively quietly, not needing further speculation on why he was leaving you, an undoubted topic of conversation for Lady Whistledown. The very reason he was leaving was for your sake, and he didn't want anyone making his own absence harder for you. 

The past days had been nothing short of agonizing for more than a few reasons. Ben knew his mother was disappointed in him for leaving, not immune to her sad stares and soft sighs, but he just couldn't go on like this. If he ignored his feelings, he knew he wanted you to find a husband, just as you had asked him to let you do. But he couldn't ignore his feelings. Not entirely, at least. Benedict was going half insane watching you dance with eager suitors and hearing you talk about the exotic and beautiful bouquets you had later received from them. He could barely sleep, plagued by thoughts of someone else making you laugh, and the dull ache in his chest had become a permanent fixture. 

His art studio felt cold and empty now, rarely graced by your warm and lively presence. Ben couldn't find it in himself to spend the hours he used to in there, missing your animated commentary as you read whichever book you had taken from the Bridgerton library that day. He had barely been able to paint at all recently, inside or outside his studio, frustrated that every single sketch or painting he started was in some manner related to you. Worse, he found he had little to no inspiration for new works without you by his side. Every single aspect of his life was completely turned upside down by your absence. Even the moon looked different. He could not look at the stars at night without remembering how your eyes looked at night, reflecting the soft starlight in the sky. 

So he was leaving. Perhaps it was a cowardly thing to do, but Benedict was desperate to regain some sense of normalcy in his life. He knew he couldn't have you, but he couldn't watch someone else have you, either. The only viable choice he saw was to go away, back to the countryside. Of course, his family saw right through his weak excuse of "needing time away to work on his art," but at least no one had the sense to confront him about it. Yet still, the truth lingered in the look of pity he received from Anthony and Colin and the quietly exasperated "Are you joking?" he heard Francesca whisper to Hyacinth. 

Ben had come to see you a few days ago and broken the news, and you had barely been able to concentrate since. Even though you had established some distance from your best friend, you still relished in the comfort of his nearby presence. You knew that even if you had a dreadful dance at a ball, one quick smile from Ben could immediately heal your stepped-on feet and put you in a better mood. 

But you supposed him leaving was for the best. At the moment, you weren't seriously considering any suitors yet. No longer having Benedict by your side might end up being more beneficial to you, even if your eyes were constantly filled with unshed tears and your lower lip was raw from nervous biting at the thought of him away in the country for months on end. You supposed you would have to move on from him, laying your feelings to rest. That was the whole point, was it not? Benedict would leave, and you would stop wishing every man you talked to was him. 

You were in your garden now, hiding in your usual spot behind the rose bushes with your nose stuck in a book in an attempt to evade your mother's call to practice your needlepoint. With Benedict leaving tomorrow, you reasoned that you should be excused from mind-numbing activities such as sewing due to your emotional distress. Unfortunately, your mother did not share this opinion, and you were forced into hiding to escape her demands. 

Hearing footsteps coming your way, you shrunk further behind the bushes, hoping you hadn't been caught and could spare another five minutes of peace. 

"Y/N Beaumont, come out of there this instant. You cannot simply avoid me when you don't want to play the pianoforte," came Benedict's voice from above you, taking on a high-pitched voice as he attempted to imitate your mother when she was frustrated with her children. You instantly relaxed, bursting into laughter.

"You are so evil! I thought I had actually been caught out. Although my mother wants me to practice needlepoint instead of pianoforte this time," you said as you rolled your eyes, playfully hitting his arm as he sat beside you. 

Ben laughed, shaking his head and snatching your book from your hands, leafing through it absentmindedly. "Hmmm, I figured it was something like that. I came into your house and saw the Countess quite exasperated, asking me if I knew where you were hiding," he said. Seeing your widening eyes, he quickly continued, "Oh, but don't worry. I would never betray you like that. The rose bush stays between us."

"Well, since you're leaving tomorrow, you very well could have revealed the hiding spot and escaped an untimely death," you retorted. Although you meant it as a joke, you couldn't help the break in your voice as you took in the reality of Benedict leaving for the countryside. You wrapped your arms around one of his, resting your head on his shoulder. You were breaking every rule you had established for your friendship, but you didn't care anymore.

Sighing deeply, Benedict placed his hand on top of yours. He could easily sense the pain behind your playful dig and couldn't help feeling the same way. Not finding the strength to continue the faux-playful exchange, Ben simply placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. "Either way, I could never. You're still my best friend. Always have been, always will be, Y/N Beaumont." 

You could feel a wave of tears welling in your eyes, starting to flow as you softly said your next words. "I know. I'm going to miss you, Benedict Bridgerton."

He looked down at you, feeling a fondness so fierce he felt the prickling of tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat, wanting desperately to end this chapter of your lives on a good note. He grabbed your hands and stood you up so you were facing him. He could barely stand the sight of your tear-stained face, beautiful as ever despite your reddened eyes. A few quiet moments passed between you, both of you attempting to regain composure, but the pain of losing the other made it entirely impossible. 

He was still holding on to your hands, thumbs rubbing softly up and down in the way he had always done. But this time, they did not bring you comfort. Instead, you burst into tears, closing the short distance between you and sobbing into his chest, not caring that your tears might ruin his clothes. To be loved was to be changed, after all, and God did you love him.

Wrapping his arms tightly around you as you sobbed, Benedict was at a loss. He couldn't fathom what life would be like after you, barely remembering what it had been before you. To willingly walk away from this, from you in his arms, from your shared intimacy, from the unbreakable bond the two of you had formed over two decades... he had to be insane. Yet he had no choice, as the past few weeks had shown. All Ben could do was rub a comforting hand on your back as you cried, murmuring sweet nothings in an effort to alleviate the excruciating pain he knew you were feeling as well. 

Finally, he spoke. "I'm going to miss you more, Y/N. And I'm so sorry. I never wanted it to end like this. I never wanted it to end at all, actually." 

Feeling another kiss at the top of your head, you lifted your head to look him in the eyes. You were no longer sobbing, just sniffling as tears ran down your face. "Me neither," you choked out, eyes still on him. You wanted to take in as much of him as you could before he left. You wanted his face burned into your mind forever, leaving a permanent mark you could never get rid of. 

As you sniffled again, you felt him pull you into his chest, hearing him say softly, "It's going to be alright, darling." He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, pulling you back again to look you in the eyes. He then followed a delicate trail, pressing soft kisses between your furrowed brows, on the tip of your nose, and along the tear-streaked canvas of your cheeks. Then, hesitantly, he reached your lips. 

His eyes were intense, heavy with emotion, as you felt his lips hovering above yours. You had never been kissed before, but you would so easily forgo social norms if he just closed the distance between you. You were inches apart, breath intermingling, eyes boring into each other. You could feel the palpable electricity between you, a mix of fear and familiarity. In that suspended moment, your heart beating with his, anticipation hung thick in the air. You were about to cross a precipice of intimacy you never had before, finally acting on the pressure that had been building for years. You wanted him so badly, and you could tell he wanted you, too. At least right now. Desire was running through you in a way it never had before, and you wondered whether the sort of itch you were feeling right now was the same one Ben talked about when he explained the night of the marriage. Is this the itch that would be scratched? You understood what he meant now, needing him so desperately to touch his lips to yours, to bring you the relief you sought in him. Benedict moved a fraction of an inch closer to you, and you drew your breath in anticipation, lips forming into a smile. 

Yet suddenly, Benedict groaned and abruptly withdrew as if an unseen force compelled him to sever the burgeoning connection. Pushing you away in more senses than one, he roughly rubbed his face with his hands. You could tell he was in a state of complete panic. Hurt and confused, you watched him rub his eyes frustratedly, refusing to meet your gaze.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry," he stammered, a haunted look in his eyes betraying the fear of losing all the meticulously constructed defenses he had placed between you. "I don't know what came over me. That was so not right. I just—" His words stumbled, a confession hanging unspoken in the charged air between you.

You couldn't stop yourself from flinching, understanding the implications of his words. You supposed it should never have been like this. The two of you were best friends, after all. But you were desperate for him to look at you and give away some of what he was thinking, needing any sort of reassurance, so you reached out, softly gripping his bicep. "It's alright, Ben. I know you didn't—"

But he cut you off, his head shaking in fervent denial, avoiding your pleading eyes. "No, it's not. I'm sorry. Look, I should go; I still need to finish packing. But I'll come by early tomorrow morning to say goodbye if you're awake."

Without granting you a lingering look, he turned away, leaving you alone in the garden where you had played together as children, where your friendship had once blossomed. Tears ran unobstructed down your cheeks, and your heart broke cleanly in two. 

---

You found yourself promenading alongside Mr Henri Deschamps in Hyde Park once again, politely nodding every time he looked to you for reassurance that his talk about hunting was not, in fact, the most boring thing you had ever heard in your life. And it wasn't, but you were inclined to think that it was pretty close. Nevertheless, you liked Mr Deschamps more than most other suitors, enjoying the philosophical debates the two of you would sometimes engage in. 

Henri was from France but had come to England with his younger sister to see her married off last season. Although he was successful in this endeavor, he liked England so much that he chose to stay and find a wife for himself. Still, you were a tad fearful that Henri would want to return to France when, and if, the two of you were married. He had been courting you for a short time, only a couple of weeks. Still, you were careful in expressing your desire and taking it slow, despite thinking that you would probably end up marrying him if all kept going the same way it was now. 

All things considered, Mr Deschamps was an adequate match for you. He was intellectually stimulating at times, came from a good background to be able to provide for you, and he wasn't bad-looking either. Besides, his accent was fun to listen to even when his words were not. It had been nearly three weeks since Benedict had left for the country, and though you missed him terribly, you were having a much easier time actually thinking of your suitors as potential husbands instead of fun ways to pass time before you spoke to Ben next. 

Hearing Henri mention something related to a book you were currently reading, you perked up, excited. "Actually, I read that—" you started, only to be interrupted by the man at your side. 

"Ah, of course, you read this, you read that. When does it stop, Miss Beaumont? You are always reading something. Men do not want this. We want an obedient wife who will not cause us any more stress than we have in life. We want a wife who will give us heirs quickly and who will listen to what we say," came Mr Deschamps' interjection. You were stunned, frozen in your spot, but he grabbed your arm and continued speaking as he dragged you with him. 

"Men do not want a woman who is smarter than them, Miss Beaumont. How about you stick to your good qualities, oui? You are very beautiful, but no one will ever marry you if you keep discussing books. No one wants to hear about books," he finished, sending you a pointed look.

You could barely believe what you were hearing. "But—," you tried, only to be interrupted by Mr Deschamps once again. 

"But— But— But—," he mocked cruelly. "But nothing, Miss Beaumont. This is the truth, yet you still argue with me. It is the same in France as it is here: women should not argue with men. You would do well to remember that." 

You wrenched your arm out of his grasp, appalled by his egregious behavior. He rolled his eyes at your reaction, turning around and throwing his hands up in the air, clearly exasperated. You angrily stared after him as your mother, who had been walking a few paces behind the two of you, caught up. 

"What in the world was that? I cannot believe he spoke to you in such a disrespectful manner and in front of everyone, at that," she exclaimed, fuming. Clearly, she had heard at least some of your conversation. You could only shake your head in disbelief, still reeling from Henri's sudden outburst. He had effectively squashed your hopes of ever finding an appropriate husband in under three minutes. It would have been impressive if it didn't leave you so hopeless.

---

Far from the hubbub of the city, Benedict lay in his messy bed, staring at the now-empty spot beside him, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through his half-open curtains. With ever-deepening bags under his eyes and a dwindling excitement about life, he grappled with a reality he never thought he would confront. The echoes of your shared dreams from your youthful days mocked him, a poignant reminder of a time when marriage felt like a distant concept.

This had become somewhat of a routine by now. Benedict had taken to finding solace in the arms of various women, seeking momentary distraction from the ache in his heart. With each encounter, it became glaringly evident that physical intimacy offered no relief from the unending yearning he felt for you and your friendship, forever changed by his choices. 

Loneliness enveloped him each time the women left, a feeling he had become all too familiar with in the past few weeks. He barely slept, opting instead to imagine your life back in the city, full of exciting balls and surrounded by the warmth of your family. And his, he supposed. But most of all, he couldn't help the painful thoughts of you with another man, discussing your favorite books, or forming inside jokes with one another. 

He was comforted only by the fact that he had not yet received a wedding invitation. Surely Benedict would have been invited to the momentous occasion had you finally found someone to spend forever with. However, the comfort he felt from this was significantly overshadowed by the implications of your inevitable wedding. One last goodbye. A proper goodbye, this time. Here, in the countryside, he could theoretically return to you anytime. But once you were married, you would be gone forever, and the wanting he felt now would only multiply, consuming him entirely. 

In the quiet hours before dawn, he often wondered if the past could be revisited, a past where the two of you made plans to get married. The idea of a marriage where he was free to pursue his artistic endeavors and you continued your literary pursuits lingered in his thoughts every single night. It seemed that he was only interested in marriage if it was an arrangement similar to the one you had dreamt up as children, and the chances of attaining that were slim to none. Benedict found himself yearning for a simplicity that had been lost in the complexities of adulthood. With you married off, he would have to find a wife eventually. But perhaps he did not want to marry at all. Maybe he would stay a bachelor, making vows to his art rather than a woman he knew could never compare to you. 

For now, he continued his escapades. In the long run, he was not confident that this would help him forget you or forget the fierce love you inspired in him, but he was desperate for any way to stop thinking about you, if only for a few hours. So he indulged, going to raucous gatherings, mainly populated by artists. People used their canvases at these parties as a means of liberation, but he only used them to mask his true feelings. He could momentarily quiet his mind, painting and dancing and drinking before he eventually came crashing down to reality. 

—

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