WHAT DID YOU SEE?

[gentlemandetective]

AN INDEPENDENT, MUTUALS - ONLY ROLEPLAY BLOG FOR BENOIT BLANC OF NETFLIX'S KNIVES OUT FRANCHISE. WRITTEN BY DAWN ( SHE / HER, EST ). MATURE MATERIAL WILL BE PRESENT. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

TAKE HEED — `✦ ˑ spoilers for Wake Up Dead Man will be tagged #spoilers.

rules┊story┊stats.┊tags┊threads┊verses

[raesource]

kissy kissy prompts

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the prompts are being sent for . you can add + reverse to swap roles . a couple of these are considered usfw / nsfw .

🫣 Kiss the receiver for the very first time.

🥀 Kiss the receiver as if it is for the very last time.

😡 Kiss the receiver during a heated argument.

🧱 Pin the receiver against the wall while kissing them.

🫦 Bite the receiver's lower lip before kissing them fiercely.

😭 Kiss away the receiver's tears from their cheeks.

😴 Wake the receiver up with kisses all over their face.

🔥 Kiss the receiver while snuggled up by a fireplace / campfire.

👔 Pull the receiver in for a kiss by their collar / tie / belt.

🛏️ Push the receiver onto the bed and pounce them with kisses.

💋 Gently kiss one of the receiver's scars / wounds.

🌃 Kiss the receiver while quietly stargazing.

😱 Kiss the receiver to shock them out of an anxiety / panic attack.

🥂 Press a kiss on the receiver's lips / cheek while a little tipsy.

🎭 Kiss the receiver while on a pretend date (for a mission / wedding etc.).

🌿 Kiss the receiver while standing under some mistletoe.

😈 Kiss the receiver on / near one of their private parts.

💦 Kiss the receiver while they slowly come down from their release.

💄 Leave lipstick marks on the receiver's face / neck / body.

🧛 Leave a trail of bite marks along the receiver's neck / body.

[carnagewed]

even as blinded by jealous rage and furious want as he was, gluskin was not immune to the sight before him : his detective, his lover, looking up at him with those blue eyes, layers of clothes around his knees and his swollen stomach on display. if anything, it made the sensation worse — it was his child that grew within the other man's womb, so why should anyone else's eyes ever land on benoit blanc, when he belonged to him?

his hand moved then, dipping down from where it had previously rested to instead move between his thighs. it did not deter eddie, the way that the detective had closed his legs — no, those fingers still made their way between them, and the wetness that he felt there was almost obscene. eddie's teeth sank into his bottom lip.

while he knew that he should move to help benoit out of those trousers — and god, what a show it was, seeing him like that — he needed this first. needed to touch and feel, needed the reminder that this was all for him, needed to watch those pretty blue eyes of benoit's as his hand shifted and his thumb brushed against his clit, a small ( and knowing ) touch meant solely for the purpose of hearing the way that benoit's breath hitched.

“ we won't be using the bed, ” he muttered roughly. “ not right now. ”

lightning quick, his attention shifted to getting the detective out of those restricting pants, crouching down and tugging them the rest of the way — and in contrast with the hurried, desperation that eddie had exhibited so far, a soft kiss was placed to benoit's belly. then, almost if the brief moment had never happened, he returned to his full height. one large hand found purchase on the other man's hip.

the other, however, moved back between benoit's legs. this time, fingers slipped through wet folds, palm pressed up against the detective's clit as he finally dipped inside of him.

“ see, i need you now, darling, ” eddie murmured, fingers moving in and out of that delicious heat. it's a silent request — his way of asking for benoit's permission to turn him around and fuck him right here and now.

[gentlemandetective]

Benoit should have known that closing his legs wouldn't slow Eddie ( not that he had really wanted it to ). The tailor's fingers slipped between Benoit's thighs with such confidence, with such command that all his lover could do was yield to him. A soft whimper left him at the sensation of Eddie teasing there, where he was already so wet and wanting. It was that possessive and predatory look in Eddie's eye — what could Benoit possibly do in the face of it ?

By the time Eddie finished removing his trousers, Benoit's breath was short. His hands clutched at Eddie, even though they shook. The detective's skin was flushed pink due to his desire and present sensitivity to heat.

Eddie returned to his imposing height, and the world seemed to stop. Benoit gasped at Eddie's words as they finally sank in. Eddie's dismissive answers to Benoit's questions about the bed gave birth to a number of terrible, wonderful fantasies — the sort that made Benoit's beautiful eyes widen and mouth feel like it was full of cotton. This time, when Eddie touched him, there was no ( even playful ) obstruction. Benoit spread his legs obediently, making room for Eddie's large hand. Had he looked down, he would have laughed at the sight of the tailor's fingers disappearing under his swollen belly, perhaps made some quip about how he looked like he swallowed a globe ... but how could Benoit remove his gaze from Eddie's ? The low rumble of Eddie's voice made the detective shudder, just as the feeling of Eddie's textured hand rubbing up against his center did.

It was obvious that the pregnancy made Benoit more sensitive. Both of them had reaped the rewards of that over the past few months. The detective was tight around Eddie's fingers ; the evidence of his pleasure smeared further across his inner thigh. In and out Eddie went, and the dull repeated squelch of his fingers in that mess was nearly obscene. Benoit stared at Eddie, desperate for the full wrath of the tailor's jealously to come down upon him if only to obtain relief from it. One of his own hands shifted and swept up the edge of his shirt to reveal his pregnant stomach in its entirety.

This was Eddie's. He was Eddie's.

❝Oh, honey,❞ dripped from Benoit's mouth repeatedly. His thick accent made it as smooth as the golden substance itself. ❝You got me, honey, you got me.❞ Benoit's nails scratched at the side of his belly. ❝ — I'm all yours, Eddie ; we both are. Nobody else's.❞ The detective's hushed words were punctured with pretty moans. In them was his unspoken reply to Eddie's equally silent ask : he would do anything that Eddie wanted to chase away the tailor's discomfort, including ( gladly ) allowing Eddie to have his way with him up against the door.

[finalslay]

@gentlemandetective sent :'

❝Now that is what I would call final draft material, Nancy !❞ Benoit declared, setting down the pages in his hand with a triumphant smack. As he did so, his husband appeared behind him, bearing a tray of dried fruit with slices of his latest sourdough bread. It was brightly - flavored and stuffed with blueberries. The detective looked up then. ❝Phillip, darl' — you gotta read this one. Nancy's gone and done it again.❞ Phillip shook his head fondly. ❝I'm sure it's grand, Blanc, but I have supper working. Someone has to take care of you lot.❞ He kissed the top of the grumbling detective's forehead before moving closer to Nancy. With a soft apology, he reached past her for the tea kettle. The smile he gave her was easy and affectionate. It wasn't hard to see why Benoit had taken to his new friend ; they shared the same curious spirit. ❝Another cup, Miss Wheeler ?❞ Phillip asked. ❝ — and I trust you're staying for the evening ? It is Sunday. You know, back home, we always do a roast and a pudding. I've got that now ... and it's best served to a full table with all of your family.❞ His eyes glittered. Benoit nodded encouragingly.

benoit's reaction to this draft meant everything to her, a fact that was made all too evident by the smile that stretched across the wheeler girl's face. the story in question would not have came to be without his input and tips, and his approval was of the utmost importance. needless to say, his reaction hadn't disappointed. warmth bloomed in her chest when he attempted to show the story off to phillip — it was a sense of pride, of belonging to something.

the sensation didn't let up any either when phillip directed his attention towards her. if anything, it grew at the invitation and mention of family. as attached as she had grown to the pair of them, there was still something so painfully intimate about being included in this way.

“ yes, ” she finally replied, nodding her head and pushing her teacup in phillip's direction. “ yes, of course i'll stay. thank you very much. ” that smile never once left her face, even as pale cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink.

nancy felt an immense gratitude towards the couple for letting her fall into their dynamic and lives with such ease — even now, the city still felt new and foreign to her, after so long spent in a small town, and as much as she liked her independence, there was undeniably an appeal to having people who cared, people to come home to.

with a slice of bread now stolen from the tray, nancy's attention then turned back to benoit as she added, “ thank you, too. i couldn't have written that story without your help. i appreciate it. ”

[gentlemandetective]

Phillip nodded with approval whenever Nancy accepted his invitation. He filled her cup ( allowing, of course, room for any of the sugar or cream that was out as well ), topped off his husband's, and set down the kettle. Benoit took note of Phillip's empty hands and attempted to wrap an arm around the other man's waist. Whether he wished to bestow a cuddle on his lover or outright pull him into his lap would have to be left to the imagination, unfortunately — Phillip was quick to smack away Benoit's hand with a playful hmph.

❝You are very welcome, Miss Wheeler,❞ Phillip said first, smiling pleasantly. He then turned to Benoit. ❝ — as for you, Blanc ... behave, would you ?❞ Nevertheless, he bent over to kiss the detective with an air that was as fond as it was irritated. They had been married for so long that the banter came easy. Merely empty threats draped over much deeper, truer feelings of love ( and Benoit had told Nancy how lucky he was to have Phillip and his dry English sense of humor often ).

❝Leave out your article, Miss Wheeler. I'd love to read it after supper,❞ Phillip added. He headed back for the kitchen, where a wildlife documentary on his tablet and glass of wine awaited next to his preparations.

Benoit thumbed through the pages again with no small amount of pride, attention returned to Nancy. He picked up a slice of dried papaya, placed his bent elbow on the arm of his chair, and pointed the fruit at her as he spoke.

❝No, no, no,❞ Benoit scolded. His accent made the sound closer to a naw. ❝This one's all you, Nancy. I didn't do a thing ... 'sides help you add a bit of polish, that's all. Shoot, I have to make some calls — there's got to be a face running a larger press in this town that owes me a favor. You need a bigger paper, darl', with talent like this.❞ He smacked his palm lightly against the cover of the article, sporting the appearance of a father that had just reviewed their child's perfect report card.

[il-mostrc]

The low keening from Benoit's throat reminded Hannibal of a wounded stag he'd once tracked through Lithuanian snow, that same primal sound hovering between animal and human grief. He had heard enough of them from Benoit than he cared to admit, not enjoying this form of suffering from him in particular. Hannibal preferred the eloquence of silence, the bruised half-moons beneath bloodshot eyes, the rim of red around, and he aims for codependency for those he admires most. Benoit had always been a stronghold, steadfast in his ability to crack cases and be independent from anyone else. It was remarkable to see him in this state. The fracturing of this façade made him infinitely more fascinating.

He always had the brightest of blue eyes, piercing even. The car was finally shut off when he spoke of his beloved never coming home again. How poetic that as the car fell silent, so too had Phillip's life been extinguished. Hannibal had been merciful in his efficiency; a courtesy he rarely extended. He owed Benoit that at least. He felt the tableaux provided a beautiful story, and he carefully arranged each flower. Those eyes, so similar to Benoit's in their cornflower brilliance, had been carefully harvested, leaving perfect hollow sockets like twin wells of darkness.

"No, my friend," Hannibal whispered, his knuckles bleaching white against the burnished leather of the steering wheel until it creaked in protest. He released his grip only to cradle Benoit's nape, feeling the warmth of skin against his palm, the silken wisps of hair at his collar. "Let us go inside, I’ll make you a brandy by the fire.” He’d take him to the guest room, where a fire would be lit and he could taste the best of his alcohol to numb it all.

He released him to exit the car, rounding to the passenger door and opening it for him. He shielded him against the pattering of the rain until they made it to his foyer. There, as if on autopilot, he removed his jacket and motioned for him to follow him up the stairs to one of the spare rooms. His home had always welcomed select friends, though Benoit had never crossed this threshold as an overnight guest. Their evenings together had invariably concluded with Benoit departing, hat clutched respectfully in hand, lips forming courteous thanks. Nothing beyond the boundaries of formal acquaintance. Until now.

[gentlemandetective]

Benoit's eyes closed at Hannibal's affirmation of what the detective knew — or was beginning to know, in his grief. Hannibal's hand on the back of his neck was both comforting and grounding ; Benoit wished that it would have lingered.

He looked up blearily whenever Hannibal opened his door. Benoit's face was wet, but no new tears fell. Strands of hair stuck his cheeks, clinging to the moisture left there. Puffy red outlines surrounded his watery blues, which were unusually hollow. The detective's shaking hand reached out for Hannibal ( the other kept Phillip's handkerchief close ). Rain pelted against Benoit's palm, and that seemed to motivate him to leave the Bentley.

Benoit was grateful for Hannibal's assistance. His legs were weak and trembled like the rest of him. As they walked, Benoit felt himself lean into Hannibal. He trusted that his friend would not let him fall — and he was right to have this kind of faith. Hannibal kept him safe from both his own missteps and the world ( which seemed to weep on his behalf ). Even inside, he made sure that Benoit was not taken off - balance with the removal of his coat and shoes.

The detective followed Hannibal up the stairs carefully. Were he in a better frame of mind, his curiosity would have been ablaze at the sight of somewhere new in Hannibal's always - intriguing home. However, as he was, he merely took the company of his friend and these beautiful rooms for granted. Even the strange parts of Hannibal's house still offered a kind of familiarity and comfort. They belonged to Hannibal, who had provided him with nothing but dignity and respect in his grief, and that was enough.

Benoit shouldered out of his blazer as well once they reached the spare room. He draped it across the back of one of the chairs by the fireplace. After a moment, he sat. Still - trembling hands spread Phillip's handkerchief out over his thigh with a sense of reverence that clearly revealed the identity of its original owner.

❝This isn't real,❞ he said first — but it was. Benoit's lower lip trembled, but he continued to speak through it. ❝I ... I don't know what to think, Hannibal. All I keep seeing is ... ❞ him.

[finalslay]

he knew.

of course he knew.

nancy should have known better than to hope to hide anything from benoit blanc.

the papers that were scattered around on the table in front of them suddenly held her interest with an unrivaled intensity. despite having been the one to type up the majority of them, in that moment, nancy found that she could not have said what was written on a single one.

her fingers gripped her teacup's handle even tighter, gaze remained fixated and unseeing on those pages in front of her. benoit's presence at her side suddenly felt weighted, and despite the caring concern that she knew had been extended to her with that oh-so-quietly asked question, nancy felt almost like a cornered animal.

“ nancy, darl', look at me, ” @gentlemandetective murmured softly. she was unaware of how long she had simply sat there, silently staring into space and clutching her cup with a death grip, but before nancy could process it, benoit's hand was on her chin, gently guiding her gaze towards him instead.

nancy hadn't even realized that she was crying until that moment.

“ i haven't ... i haven't told anyone, ” she finally whispered, shaking her head softly. in her line of sight, benoit was blurry. “ i didn't know how. ”

[gentlemandetective]

Benoit felt a lump rise in his throat at the sight of her tears. He hadn't meant to cause her any distress. Really, his only goal with bringing the matter up was to make sure that she was alright, that she felt safe in what he hoped she considered to be her home. The detective tutted fretfully, released Nancy's chin, and pulled the handkerchief out of his breast pocket. It was a pretty thing with purple and white flowers.

Gently, Benoit cupped Nancy's cheek and used the soft fabric to wipe away the worst of the moisture on her face. He then handed it to her. Deep affection swam in his eyes as he laid his hand on her knee, leaving her the space to move closer or further away if she desired. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel crowded by him ( even as he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her ).

Nancy had never seemed so small to him nor had his heart ever twisted this much for her. Phillip liked to tease him sometimes, to remind him that Nancy wasn't their little girl — but Benoit knew that his husband loved her as much as he did.

... and, right now, his daughter was scared.

Benoit's voice remained soft. ❝You're okay, Nancy,❞ he assured her. ❝It's gonna be okay ... but I need you to talk to me, darl'. Take a big breath for me, and we'll lay all the cards out together to go over 'em. Just like when you write, hm ?❞ His gaze flicked over to her work, spread out before them.

[carnagewed]

whilst benoit might have been silently cursing himself for that little display, it had had the desired effect on eddie. there was a certain thrill to being the pursued instead of the pursuer — it was a change of pace, and one that eddie would not argue with. as much as he liked to be the one calling the shots, there wasn't any harm in letting benoit take the lead for now. there would be time later on for all of that.

“ sounds like a date, ” came gluskin's reply, smooth and dripping with charm. it was an intentional choice of wording, one that eddie hoped would hit home.

after all, it was almost terribly obvious that benoit was trying to frame this as being less than what it was — eddie had played this kind of game enough to recognize that. if anything though, it made the whole situation more intriguing, more interesting.

of course, he knew that getting mixed up with a detective likely wasn't the smartest of moves he had ever made — especially not with one as talented as benoit blanc. there was a level of risk involved, yet he was choosing to ignore it.

by now, the older man had grabbed his attention far too much for anything else.

“ next time, though — ” and there it was again, that intentional choice of wording as those bright blue eyes remained fixated on benoit. “ — you let me take you out instead. do we have a deal? ”

[gentlemandetective]

Benoit felt his insides twist up with anticipation at how readily Eddie agreed. It seemed the detective's hints had not gone unnoticed — and that his advance wasn't unwelcome, either. The tailor needed to be careful : all of this positive attention was going to inflate his already too - great ego.

Eddie called it a date, Eddie insinuated there would be a next time, and Eddie looked at Benoit so intensely that he thought his knees might go weak. Benoit chose to lean in further still. He toed the line between professional and personal just to catch a whiff of Eddie's cologne.

❝Sounds like a date,❞ Benoit repeated back, teeth flashing with his broad smile. ❝I look forward to seeing what you have in mind.❞

They were close enough to kiss, and, for a moment, Benoit considered the possibility. Eddie's bright eyes seemed to echo the want that Benoit felt — or perhaps Benoit just desired to know the tailor more intimately that badly. The detective swallowed down his impulse, along with a curious lump of emotion blocking his throat, and finally moved away.

❝I will be here tomorrow at five o' clock, Mr. Gluskin.❞ Benoit unhooked his sunglasses from his breast pocket and put them on. His hat was simple, but it matched his suit impeccably. ❝Again, Mr. Gluskin ... you don't know how grateful I am for your company.❞

[heateron]

drew starkey and daniel craig in queer (2024) dir. luca guadagnino

[gentlemandetective]

@finalslay ;

[ lean ] sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder // nancy <333

Benoit spread all of the information out on the dining room table. Two printed newspaper articles, an old map he circled items on in red pen, several sheets of handwritten notes, a worn book he thought of interest, and the letter he had received yesterday. Its contents promised a great mystery to unravel ... but Benoit knew, in spite of his excitement, it would have to wait.

The reason for that quietly rested her head against the back of his shoulder, and Benoit smiled ahead of himself at nothing. He let Nancy stay there for as long as she needed him, eyes sweeping over the table.

However, when she moved away, Benoit was quick to give her his full attention. He half - turned, wrapped his arm around her gently, and pulled the young lady into his side for an affectionate cuddle. Benoit kissed the side of Nancy's forehead with a thoughtful hum.

❝What're you burnin' the midnight oil for, honey ?❞ he asked — as though he wasn't equally as guilty. He was sure Phillip was back in their bed, fingers drumming on top of the covers with fondness and irritation at Benoit's absence. At least, the detective was confident he could be forgiven later ( such was their usual game ). Benoit's eyes glanced down toward Nancy's belly and softened. ❝Is the lil' jumping bean keeping you up ?❞

[tragicburnout]

shoutout to people whose kindness isn't a strategy but a way of life

[stars-bean]

Knives Out (2019) dir. Rian Johnson

[thekashishverse]

I wish I could be normal about affection but my love language is merging souls.

[gentlemandetective]

— and the piano, it sounds like a carnival, and the microphone smells like a beer, and they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar, and say, "man, what are you doin' here?"

[whereareyourightnow]

WAKE UP DEAD MAN dir. Rian Johnson

[yikimiki]

concept: extremely sweet and caring guys that fuck you like an animal in heat

[gentlemandetective]

@evanmcconne ;

He had taken his eyes off of her for a few minutes — but that was all it took. Alexandria the Great, as her papa called her, was quite the accomplished tree - climber. Even all of her expertise, though, could not have prepared her for the fracture in her favorite big branch and the hard tumble to the ground.

The five - year - old's squeals only subsided when she was allowed back in her daddy's lap hours later. She sniffled through picking the color of her cast ( blue ), demanded that Evan be the first to sign her ' crooked ' arm, and snuggled into his torso while Benoit's voice played out of the phone she usually liked stealing to watch Bluey on.

It ain't your fault, darl'. She's a tough girl ... shit, you're both gonna be just fine.

Alexandria nodded sagely when Evan explained that Benoit was going to get on a plane, as if the big metal birds that carried people in their bellies across the sky were very reasonable things to travel in. Her hand remained on Evan's arm on the way home, seeking perhaps to also comfort her daddy. It was almost dark when they pulled in to their driveway. The child was obviously tired, but she walked toward the tree ( her Tree ) first. Alexandria's slippers nudged at part of the branch she fell from, and she sniffed.

After a moment of contemplation, Alexandria looked up at Evan. Her big brown eyes were still watery, and she kept her injured arm close to her chest. Then, she spoke, soft and slow — every word reinforcing why her papa insisted their kind - hearted girl really was the best of them.

❝It was ... accident, Daddy,❞ Alexandria murmured. ❝Tree didn't mean to hurt me, and I — I didn't mean to hurt Tree. Will Tree ... be okay ? Does Tree need blue, too ? Daddy, you make it — you can make anything.❞

[mobius-m-mobius]

Blanc and his Watsons 🔎💕