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reiding-writing · 4 months

Note

Hey Red! I really enjoyed all of your writings especially because I am also a sucker for angst and hurt/comfort fic. Anyway, can I request fic about post-prison Spencer x reader (romantic) where the reader is the one who distanced herself from Spencer because after the first time Spencer released from prison, he doesn't want to touch anyone? Bet he'll be so heartbroken and thinking that she's over their relationship. Thank you! Sorry if it's too specific ❤️

distance [ s.r ]

Spencer makes a show of physically distancing himself from his teammates after he returns from prison, and in trying to abide by that boundary you accidentally misread his intentions

WARNINGS: miscommunication, established relationship

pairing: post-prison!spencer x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending

wc: 1.6k

masterlist!!

a/n: gave this one a happy ending as an apology for transgression-

You waited for 84 days to see him again; And yet now he’s stood here in front of you you can’t even bring yourself to speak to him.

He’s thinner than you remember. His cheekbones show more prominently. He has stubble lining his chin. His hair is more unruly. His eyes don’t shine anymore.

Spencer changed in those 84 days, and the second you caught his eyes a hairline fracture formed in your heart.

Gone was the Spencer who would light up at the most insignificant thing. Gone was the Spencer who would look at you with those sweet innocent eyes that would make you weak at the knees. Gone was the Spencer who would link his pinky finger in yours so that he could anchor himself to you no matter where you were.

Gone was the Spencer you knew.

Your Spencer didn’t exist anymore.

You watched as he swerved a hug from Morgan as he entered the office, clasping both of his hands behind his back with an awkward smile as he walked through the bullpen towards you were standing in front of his desk, eerily resembling the 23 year old Spencer who avoided everyone like they had the plague.

“Hey Spence…” Your voice is a lot more breathless than you thought it’d be, only amplified as you look into those gorgeous hazel eyes that you’d dreamed about being able to look into again for the past three months. “..How are you?”

It’s a completely unnecessary question Spencer thinks, it makes it sound like you’re just his co-worker and not the love of his life.

“I’m alright…” His eyebrows twitch when you take a few steps away from his desk as he nears you, like you can’t bear to be too close.

Then again, he probably looks like hell, so he can’t entirely blame you.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

“That’s good,” You press your lips into a line, nodding softly with your eyes flickering everywhere except his face. He’d been gone for 84 days, but you were treating him like you’d never met.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee-” You point lamely towards the kitchenette with your thumb, sliding past him to walk towards it as he watched you leave, eyes burning into the back of your head.

It was a weird feeling to say the least. You were ecstatic that he was home, that you could finally see his beautiful face again and know that he wasn’t suffering in a prison cell. But you weren’t sure how to express that. Whether you should express that.

You fumble with the coffee machine as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Everything about Spencer’s body language when he entered the office told you he wanted space, and you wanted to respect that.

You understood that he’d definitely been through a lot over the past few months and that he wanted time to collect himself before he let anybody else back in; But the way he looked at you when you moved away from him made you unsure. Did he want to be left alone? Did he actually want you to suffocate him with a hug like you were originally planning on doing?

You weren’t sure. And that was the worst part, because depending on which option you chose you could unintentionally swerve things into being worse than they already were.

You chose the safe option. Let him come to you. Leave him be and allow him to choose what he wanted.

He didn’t approach you for a few days, and you figured that meant your decision was correct, that he truly did just want some space to gain his bearings again and allow himself the downtime to focus on himself before anyone else.

You were wrong.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Spencer caught you right as you left the office, stood in the middle of the hallway leading to the elevator with an exhausted expression on your face after working for almost 10 straight hours.

You do nothing more than blink in his direction at his question, exhaustion morphing into confusion once your eyes catch him expression.

You could see his own tiredness echoed through the bags forming under his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped at his sides, but you could also see a flicker of hurt floating around in his gaze, seemingly amplified under the white florescents as if to torture you.

“I’m- not avoiding you Spencer,”

“Yes you are.” His tone is rigid, a stark difference from the soft and whispered tone you’d grown used to with him. It felt like having a bucket of ice water poured over your head, and as if to physically acknowledge that feeling, a shudder ran its way up your spine and into the base of your skull. “Every time I’m within ten feet of you, you make an excuse to leave.”

You can’t really argue with him there. You had been keeping your distance. But only because you thought that’s what Spencer wanted.

“Do you not love me anymore? Is that it? Am I too broken for you now?”

“What- No-” Your confusion turns into shock at his accusations, and you immediately shake your head in denial.

“Then why are you treating me like a stranger you’ve never met?” His tone borders between angry and upset, and you can see the start of tears forming in his eyes as he stares at you like you’d just ripped up a first-edition copy of his favourite book.

“I waited for the day i’d finally be able to see you again and now you’re acting like I never existed in your mind at all.” You can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to stop it from cracking under his emotions.

“Spence-”

“Have you moved on? You found someone better for you right?”

“Spencer-”

“I hope he makes you happy-”

He barely has time to get out the last sentence as you give a sharp tug on his tie and pull his face down to yours, effectively silencing all of his insecurities with a kiss. It’s soft but firm, and slightly salty. He must’ve started crying.

“I love you Spencer.” Your words hold no room for debate as your lips part from his, connection maintained through the way your foreheads press together.

“But you- Why did you- I thought…” His mind seems to run a thousand miles a minute as he stares at you, finally close enough to see the details of your face that nobody else had the privilege to know. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore…”

“Spence…” You shake your head as it rests against his, a firm denial of his doubt in your complete and utter adoration of him.

“But you kept moving away from me whenever i’d try to come over to you,” He speaks through stuttered breaths, his eyes squeezed shut to hopefully stop the tears that assault his cheeks, running hot down his skin and pooling underneath the curve of his chin.

“I just thought you wanted space baby,” Your thumbs move deftly over his cheeks, wiping away the streaks of tears and taking Spencer’s insecurity with them. “I saw you dodging everyone’s advances and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,”

“I don’t want space from you,” When he opens his eyes again, they’re big, round, and still glistening with the moisture of his tears. But most of all they’re filled with nothing but pure affection for you. “I never want space from you…”

You sure that if you keep eye contact with him for much longer that you’ll start crying yourself, so you redirect his head to lie against your shoulder as you wrap your arms tight around his torso.

“I missed you…” His voice is so quiet that if you weren’t holding him in your arms you wouldn’t have heard it.

“I missed you too Spence,” Your head rests against his, you hand rubbing soft lines up and down his spine over his shirt as he soaks in all the affection he’s missed over the last three months.

“Can I stay at yours tonight? Please?” His gaze is enough of a ‘please’ in itself, but the way his voice drops to almost a whisper when he adds the plea onto the end of his question makes it impossible for you to deny him. Although it’s not like you were going to in the first place.

“Of course you can Spence,” You place a kiss to his left temple as you carefully break the hug, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the elevator. “Lets go home,”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #asks 🫶

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wonysugar · 23 days

Text

close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable.

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however,

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect.

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face.

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again.

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing.

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her.

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip.

plus, her panties were wet.

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down.

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger.

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her.

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation.

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment.

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair.

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?”

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?”

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs after changing.

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“…wanna bake brownies in a bit?”

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

#smut #kpop gg #hanni pham newjeans #hanni newjeans #newjeans smut #hanni pham #hanni pham x female reader #hanni x reader #hanni x fem reader #hanni pham x fem reader #hanni smut #newjeans hanni #female reader #kpop gg smut #kpop girlgroups

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saijspellhart · 2 months

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Things I liked about the Netflix ATLA and some critiques:

Before you read. Please go watch the series, take off your blinders and keep an open mind. It’s surprisingly good. This review has spoilers.

They reordered some scenes so that emotional moments would have a larger pay off. Like getting to see and experience Aang’s relationship with Monk Gyatsu, and seeing his tribe before it was destroyed. So when he has his breakdown in the air temple with Sokka and Katara later, you really feel and understand his agony.

Azula is introduced earlier, with a story running simultaneously with the Aang’s journey but not involved with his. So she has a chance to be more fleshed out and explored before she becomes a major threat. Only time will tell if this more complicated Azula comes close to the animated one. Big shoes to fill, but not a bad start.

Fire Lord Ozai plays a more sinister and oppressive role. Not a faceless boogeyman anymore. You get to see his machinations and the cruel games he’s playing with his family, and see the emotional abuse that warps them.

Appa is adorable as fuck, and so is Momo. So well animated, such gorgeous care put into them.

Kyoshi, Kuruk, and Roku make more of an appearance. With Kyoshi narrating the prologue. And if you loved the novels you’ll see they incorporated more of Kyoshi and Kuruk’s backstory from the novels than what we saw in the animated cartoon.

The acting was competent, even if a little wonky at times. I found Sokka very endearing, I loved the kid they cast as Aang and you can tell they really tried to find a balance between serious and playful. They didn’t always hit it, but the effort was there.

Zuko was great. I think they nailed him and he had great chemistry with the actor playing Iroh.

King Bumi was great, I love how they made his internal struggles more complex. He wasn’t just a crazy old man anymore. He was a crazy old man who was weary and worn down by the horrors of loss and war. A crazy old man who struggled to reconcile that the best friend he lost is the avatar and wasn’t there for him.

I loved the costume and set design. It was like stepping into the actual world of ATLA. Cities were complex and well constructed. Every setting was incredible and the attention to detail was intense.

Zuko’s boat is full of artifacts he pilfered from the Air Nomads while hunting for the avatar.

They changed how Aang got the bison whistle so it makes more sense and fits more seamlessly into the story. It never made sense why a random peddler would be selling a bison whistle if air nomads and bison have been gone for 100 years. Not impossible for a peddler to do, but not probable. The Netflix series actually gave more meaning for the artifact and changed how Aang received it.

Emotional points in the show are now more intense and brought me to tears.

Commander Zhao is more competent and conniving, and his presence felt more dangerous and less comedic.

Sokka’s outright sexism was changed from putting girls down, to just manly machismo, talking himself up. Not gone, but not degrading. They decided to let the sexism message shine more prominently with the northern water tribe, rather than tackle it twice with Sokka too. (Sokka’s sexism being solved in one episode was never well written to begin with. And the animated series quickly forgot about it and moved on to him tackling more important issues, like his being a non bender inadequacy, his leadership journey, his physical combat journey, and him finding himself as more than just the funny sarcastic guy.) For time constraints, it was better the Netflix series did not to tackle the same problem twice, especially when you might not have the resources to give both sexism issues the gravity it deserves. By focusing the sexism problem to the northern water tribe they were able to give Katara more attention.

We got to see Katara’s water-bending go from being ultra sloppy and weak to badass. It feels like they are spending more time focusing on her developing into a warrior rather than being the mom of the group. I’m honestly not sad about it. She’s still the hope ridden, emotional glue, but now it feels like she explores that warrior side a little deeper. It felt so earned when she got the title of master at the northern water tribe finale.

The actor playing uncle Iroh nailed the role. I couldn’t think of a better live action adaptation of Iroh. I love him so much.

The shirshu looks fucking phemonal.

Koh was scary as fuck and I love it. They really nailed his horror elements. Even if I’m a little sad that they changed some things about his face stealing. (He eats faces now to steal them, rather than stealing when someone shows emotion.)

The three actresses who play Mei, Azula and Tailee actually look appropriate for their age. Since they are introduced earlier, they are clearly younger, and since this show is intended to get more seasons, the casting choice made sense as we are intended to watch these girls grow up over the course of the entire show. These actors will get older, and the characters will get more menacing and sharper. It’s great. It’s thoughtful. I love it.

We get to see Zuko’s dynamics with his crew more. And find out that he did more than just speak out against his father at that meeting. His outburst at that meeting saved an entire squad of soldiers, and they don’t even know it. Zuko feels such disdain and bitterness because of the situation, and his crew doesn’t even know why. It’s so complex, you can see how the abuse Zuko endured causes him to take out his anger on his crew, and in turn they are bitter back. And it’s this cycle, that festers. But the crew also grows with Zuko, they change and evolve as he evolves. And it’s such a delight to watch.

They could have cut the Secret Tunnel minstrels altogether, given the time constraints and that the episode was mostly fluff in season two. A fun romp, but not necessary. But the creators knew people loved the minstrels so they found a way to use them anyway. Because they knew they were special. I am thankful for that, even if they show up waaay earlier than they should.

I was honestly more sold on Sokka and Suki’s relationship in the live action. It’s was so adorkable. Do I wish it had more time to develop? Yeah, of course I love a good slow burn. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun as hell watching the two flirt so badly with each other. Sokka being a buffoon, and Suki overstepping and being too rough, before realizing she was being too hard.

Some Critiques:

They reordered some episode storylines to happen at the same time, and while it does bloat some episodes. it’s understandable due the episode and budget limitations. In the cartoon, during the inventor episode Katara didn’t have a lot to do, and during the freedom fighters episode Sokka didn’t have a lot to do. So they ended up combining both stories into one hour long episode in the live action, so that both Katara and Sokka would be involved in something. Is it the best? No. But it makes sense. I get it.

Katara starts off bland in the first episode and it takes a bit for her to grow into the character.

The past avatars can be a bit strong with the doom and gloom, and I wish they’d toned that back.

Koh and Heibei (I dunno how to spell the panda spirit’s name) got combined to the same episode, and Koh stole Heibei’s spotlight. Again, I understand why these got combined, but I think it could have been handled a little better and Heibei should have gotten more closure.

There should have been a ninth episode, placed between the two episode Koh storyline, and the Northern Water Tribe storyline. Why? Because the Koh storyline was really heavy and intense. And it leads right into the season finale. An extra ninth episode should have been added with a more lighthearted tone. Something to ease the tension between the two very intense storylines.

Aang should have been using a glider to flit about the temples in the first episode. But it’s not something that ruins the whole show. It was a dumb that only happens in a single episode in the season.

I really missed Momo and Appa’s presence. They appeared atleast once in every episode, but it was still sad they weren’t more of a presence. Again I understand why. They were so beautifully animated that everytime they were on screen it (without a doubt) cost the production thousands of dollars. They were generous including as many of the unique animals and creatures as they had.

I still don’t think Sokka had enough time to develop a relationship with Yue at the northern water tribe. It was rushed and contrived in the animated version, and it was rushed and contrived in this Netflix version. There also wasn’t any of the chemistry like Sokka had with Suki to make the whirlwind romance work. I never liked the romance from the original, and I wasn’t a fan of it here. But that’s ok, because it’s such a small and insignificant thing.

In conclusion most of the changes I can see made were due to budget, and episode limitations. The creators were clearly trying to bring theater-cinematic quality to what was essentially an eight hour long film. And you cannot deny that this show is stunning. Absolutely breathtaking. Most of the episodes cut were filler, and while hilarious and mostly loved by fans, were stories not as necessary in the grand scope. You could feel the love and appreciation the creators included in this series. It wasn’t soulless, it wasn’t a heartless cash grab, it wasn’t a shot for shot (thank god) but it also didn’t butcher the source material.

I understand that the animated show creators had creative differences with the live action Netflix adaptation creators. But that doesn’t mean that the Netflix series completely failed. As every fanfic writer out there knows, the original authors are not going to love what you create based on their works. Tolkien hated every adaptation of his works, HATED them. But no one is going about saying that the Lord of the Rings trilogy movies were hot garbage. A creator doesn’t have to endorse a project for it to be good.

Netflix ATLA is good, it’s not perfect. And it never was going to be perfect. The cartoon it was based on wasn’t perfect either. But the ATLA cartoon was definitely some huge shoes to fill that set a bar very high. Any adaptation was going to struggle to be just as good.

I think the Netflix adaptation was a treat and a pleasure to watch. I think people should go into it with an open mind and see that it’s not trying to replace the cartoon. It’s a love letter to the cartoon.

PS: According to behind the scenes commentary on the Nickelodeon ATLA cartoon, the reason we didn’t get a season 4 was because the creators wanted a live action film. Nickelodeon offered the original cartoon creators the option to make season 4 or to spend the budget meant for season four on a live action ATLA film. The original creators chose the live action film directed by M. Night Shamalan. They wanted a live action for their show over a 4th season. They had no idea M. night would butcher their baby with his pathetic film all those years ago.

This show was a second chance after the M. night abomination. And you know what? It’s a pretty decent adaptation. And guess what? With a resurgence of interest in the series, we are getting more animated content for the original animated series. There’s definitely something for everyone on the horizon if this succeeds.

#netflix atla #avatar the last airbender #atla #live action adaptation #live action avatar #review #my thoughts #positive #loved it #it was great #go watch it #recommendation #pros and cons #a thoughtful and positive breakdown from someone who is generally picky and pessimistic about adaptations #spoilers #many spoilers

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ghostkennedy · 7 months

Text

Workplace Romance

~ID! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count: 7213

Content warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-con, dub-con, serial killers, murder, leon's a major asshole and mean to reader, lots of arguing, confrontation, drugging, kidnapping, use of shock collar, degrading, pet names, serious bodily harm, forced self-harm, crawling, descriptions of blood/pain/body mutation, forced blowjob, cum swallowing, piss, reader pisses self, removal of an appendage/body part, capital punishment, death row, lethal injection, masturbation, very little comfort, no happy ending

the content warnings are a mess, but i think i included everything.

!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!

Agent Leon Kennedy. A name you weren’t familiar with until a few weeks ago. Now, he’s the leading cause of all your headaches.

He’s a renowned FBI agent. Not only is he an excellent detective, but an expert in serial killer psychology.

He’s successfully led in the investigations and captures of eight serial killers and helped in the convictions of upwards of a hundred murderers.

He’s spent years studying the minds of serial killers. He can find the smallest bit of information and utilize it to get inside a killer's head. He’s the FBI’s serial killer specialist and if there’s ever a suspected serial killing, the case files land right on his desk.

And that’s what’s brought the two of you together.

You had just made detective at the Raccoon City Police Department, but the training was subpar. Any case that goes through this department is almost guaranteed to go unsolved. It’s not the station's fault, but the lack of funding and resources that has led to its downfall.

You’re up to your neck in cold case files. And crime that needs any sort of investigation is immediately your obligation. You’re a one person department and absolutely set up to fail.

When the FBI finally shows interest in the series of murders taking place throughout the city, you’re honestly relieved. Anything to ease your heavy workload. But it all changes when you meet him.

Agent Leon fucking Kennedy.

He’s a cocky bastard who undermines your department, which is solely you, constantly. He is unimpressed with the investigative work done on the case and won’t hesitate to insult your abilities as a detective.

And the man is basically untouchable.

He’s the FBI’s golden boy who can do no wrong. Everyone in the station worships the ground he walks on because he’s here to save the town, like a superhero. He’s the best of the best and everyone is expected to tolerate him. No exceptions.

It doesn’t help that he’s absolutely gorgeous. Always looking so well put together, a calculated appearance that never falters. Men and women alike gawk at the man. Whether they want to be with him or be him, you’d be stupid to not acknowledge it.

A brown fringe cascading around his face. Pretty blue eyes matched with a prominent nose and jaw line, a dimple centered in his chin. Even the stubble lining his jaw is flawless. His eyebrows are knitted together in a permanent scowl. He looks like he despises the world and it makes him that much more enticing.

And it pisses you off entirely. If he was just some mediocre, average looking man, it’d make hating him so much easier. But of course the jackass is incredible. It makes you wanna pour acid in your eyes just to give you your peace of mind back. Seeing is believing, right?

Without a single break in the case and no solid leads, you’re happy to take a step back from the case. It doesn’t mean you don’t care, but the crime rate in town has been steadily rising and you know you can help better elsewhere.

You walk into the station on what you thought was a typical Tuesday morning. But you’ve barely made it through the front door when you’re met with chaos.

People are running around, coming in and out of the station. The noise level is atrocious and has you wishing you’d caught the fucking plague because it would be less exhausting than this.

You barely make it five paces into the station when one of the coworkers you actually bother with appears at your side.

“It never stops, does it?” Jill says breathlessly.

You shake your head before replying, “What’s going on now?”

“Wait, you don’t know? Shouldn’t you be the first to know, actually?” She stops dead in her tracks, which in result causes you also to abruptly stop.

“Considering I don’t know what you’re talking about, I have no idea.” You cross your arms over your chest and turn to face her.

She sighs and places her hands on her hips. “They found another body early this morning. Everything matches up with the previous ones, so it’s basically confirmed to be one of his.”

“Another body? This will be his tenth fucking kill.”

“Thank God we got the FBI on it then?” Jill quirks an eyebrow at you, causing you to roll your eyes in response.

Jill is one of the few people seemingly in the world to not care for Leon’s bullshit. She can’t stand the man and isn’t afraid to voice it. She’s your number one defender and isn’t shy about arguing with the dreaded FBI agent.

“Maybe he’ll finally be good for something other than making my life a living Hell.”

Jill reaches out and squeezes your shoulder as she shakes her head. “But at what cost? Let’s hope the sweet, tender boy can magically solve the case and fuck back off to wherever he flew in from.”

Another coworker comes up and pulls Jill away from you. As she marches away behind the man, she turns and waves at you. You hate that you instantly wave back, but it’s Jill. You’ll look like a dork over and over for her sake.

You lower your hand and sigh, but before you can even begin walking again, a presence takes shape beside you.

“What are you doing?” An unmistakable snarky voice calls out to you. Your muscles instantly tense up in his presence, like your body is physically rejecting him and his aura.

You scoff as you begin walking again. “None of your business, Leon.”

You’re annoyed when Leon meets your big strides, keeping up with you pace for pace. You both remain silent as you quickly arrive at your office door.

You go to close the door behind you, but Leon pushes past, welcoming himself into your office. You’re frozen in place for a second in your confusion, but you quickly snap out of it and sink into your desk chair.

“What’s up?” You fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair. Being around Leon is exhausting and you can already feel this conversation draining you.

Leon doesn’t take a seat, instead choosing to stand tall above your desk, looking down at you.

“None of your business.” Leon mocks you in a shrill voice.

“What’s up?” His eyes meet yours, locking in an intense stare.

“You need to address me properly. Agent Kennedy, not Leon.”

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden authority in his voice. When he doesn’t speak up again, it prompts you to instead.

“Okay. But I would appreciate it if you addressed me properly too, Agent Kennedy.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

You quirk your head to the side, shocked by the pure audacity of this man. The audacity to demand respect when he can’t even give it. It’s infuriating.

“Well, Leon, I don’t appreciate being disrespected in my own-“

“Earn it.”

You shake your head in exasperation at his interruption. Yes. Infuriating is the best word to describe this man.

“What?” You release a heavy sigh, already exhausted from the few words exchanged.

“Respect is earned. Earn respect and you will receive it.”

“You haven’t earned-“

“I’m the FBI’s best asset when it comes to convicting serial killers, not to mention all of the side work I’ve done in homicide prevention and precaution. I’ve earned goddamn respect and I expect it, no exceptions.”

He slams his hands down on your desk, causing you to jump, your chair screeching across the floor as you put more space between you two.

Your voice is shaking as you throw your hands up in the air, “Fuck! Okay! Sorry, Agent Kennedy.”

He gives you a final death glare before backing up and causally stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. It remains silent as you two stare across the room at each other.

“Anyways, I needed to talk to you.” He finally sits in the chair and your shoulders visibly relax. You hate yourself for being so visibly nervous in his presence currently, but it was out of your control.

“What about?”

He clears his throat. “I don’t like it anymore than you do, but my bosses have instructed me to take you under my wing. Teach you what I know. And it’s my obligation to follow those orders and I think it’s in your best interest to do so as well. It would be very beneficial to you.”

Your eyes fall closed as you barely manage to hold back a groan. Your head falls back, scalp connecting with the back of your chair.

“You just made detective, correct?”

You sigh and look back up at him, “Yeah. Not even a month ago.”

“Then let me help you. There’s no one here to train you on how to be a good detective, a good investigator. I know a thing or two. You just have to let me help you. Also, it’ll be better on my conscience if I leave here confident in this station's sole detective.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m being serious. I have a lot to teach and you have a lot to learn. You’d be stupid to not take full advantage of this opportunity.”

You remain silent, lost in your own thoughts. You were confident with your abilities as a detective. Confident with your capability to solve cases, but he has the experience that you don’t. But he’s also Leon Kennedy and that alone is almost enough to make you say fuck no.

“How many people have died at the hands of this killer? That we know of so far.”

“9 I believe.”

“10 after the discovery this morning. And there could be more we don’t know about. You don’t wanna solve this case? Wanna bring this sick fuck to justice?”

“Well, of course-“

“Then work with me. How many more innocent people need to die?”

You release a heavy sigh. “Alright, alright. We have a deal or whatever.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Weeks have passed and Leon’s arrogance has only gotten worse.

The belittling, the undermining, just everything he does has you raging. You’ve given up on helping with the investigation because anything you do is scrutinized. You found a solid piece of evidence that could have easily been looked into, but he rejected it and told you to disregard it.

No matter how hard he tries to make you feel like it, you’re not an idiot. You’re a great detective and nothing about this situation is right. His behavior, his attitude, his methods of operation are all suspicious as hell, so how could you not look into him?

You’re not exactly sure what you were looking for. Maybe a sign that he was taking credit for work he didn’t actually do? Or maybe a sign of him planting evidence?

Why couldn’t you have just minded your goddamn business?

You’re the only two left in the station, working late on the case. To say things are tense is a fucking understatement if you’ve ever heard one.

“Can I ask you a question, (Reader)?”

Your head shoots up from your computer screen. The way he says your name has chills running down your spine, has you struggling to swallow.

“Um, yeah. What’s your question?”

His elbows are on the table, his chin resting on the backs of his clasped hands. “Did you find what you were looking for?” His tone is accusatory and it confuses you.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why were you looking into me?” He brings his hands down to the table and leans in closer to your side of the table. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Your heart is in your throat as you struggle to find the words to explain yourself. “What kind of detective would I be if I didn’t?”

He snickers. “Answering a question with a question. Classic. But I’m not interested in beating around the fucking bush, so how about you just tell me what you were looking for.”

You take a deep breath before straightening your spine and feigning a confidence you definitely don’t feel. “Okay. You’re suspicious as fuck. And I don’t trust you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“And what did you find?” He snaps at you. You don’t understand why he’s taking such offense to a detective doing detective work? He didn’t anticipate this?

“Nothing. I didn’t find anything.”

“And do you still have your suspicions about me?”

“Yes.” You answer his questioning immediately. You’re not sure what compels you to do so, but your mouth moves faster than your mind. “I still don’t understand why you act the way you do.”

He looks away from you, pulling a file out of his briefcase and flipping through the papers inside of it. “What were you hoping to find?”

“I-” you’re once again stumbling over your words. No one has ever made you so nervous, no one has ever triggered your flight or fight as much as he does. Alarms are constantly going off in your head about him and you hate it. “I just wanted some answers.”

“Then fucking ask.” He slams the folder shut and tosses it down the table. “Ask me your questions. Don’t be a baby about it, going behind my back to find them. You’re a big girl. If you want answers, come and get them.”

“Why are you such a dick?”

“Because I can be. Next question.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Obviously.”

“We’re getting nowhere. Nevermind.”

“Wait!” You yell at him, reaching out and grabbing his wrist as he goes to stand up. “I’m sorry. You just piss me off.”

He pulls his wrist from your grasp with a disgusted look, but he doesn’t get up from his chair. He stares at you silently, which means he wants you to speak up. He’s so fucking entitled, you have to refrain from going off on him for the billionith time.

“Why do you brush me off constantly? I bring you solid, concrete leads and you treat them like they’re nothing. You’re leaving so many loose ends. We’re not any closer to solving this case. Why?”

He hums at you like your question is invalid. You don’t know what you expected. Of course he was just going to be a prick like he always is.

“That’s your perspective on it. A false perspective, but one nonetheless.”

“What does that mean?” The offense is obvious in your voice. More belittling, more brushing off your valid concerns. Of course. Of fucking course.

“Because I’ve followed every last lead and every little piece of evidence. It’s not my fault you can’t keep up.”

“Bullshit!” You’re both surprised at your outburst. You can’t hold it back anymore. You can’t stand the lying and fucking diversions anymore. “I’ve been watching you, Leon. I haven’t seen you investigate shit. You pick and choose where you pay attention. This is the FBI’s very best? It’s fucking pathetic.”

He keeps his expression blank and neutral. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. I’m trying to figure out what the fuck it is you do that’s so fucking incredible that you’ve solved so many cases. Are you taking credit for other people’s work? Are you planting evidence? That’s the only thing that makes sense. You’re an opportunist. It’s like you’re just silently waiting to find the perfect person to blame. Is that it? You frame people to make yourself look better? What is it?”

Your voice is desperate and it’s genuinely embarrassing. But you are desperate. And you don’t wanna sit by anymore, not with the terrible suspicions constantly plaguing your exhausted mind.

“You think I’m covering up for serial killers? You realize how crazy that sounds, right?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. It’s not that fucking farfetched.”

“Why would I do that?”

You let out a noise of frustration, “I don’t know! To make yourself look better? Everyone worships you for the work you’ve done. Maybe it’s for the praise and glory, to stroke your ego.”

He smirks at you and it only enrages you more.

“You told me to ask you questions!” you yell at him, “Now give me fucking answers!”

“I don’t give a shit what people think. You think I would cover up for serial killers to make myself look better? That’s stupid.”

“Then maybe you have another reason!”

“Like?”

“I don’t fucking know! For all I know, you’re the serial killer and you just frame people to cover your own ass. Your job would be the perfect guise wouldn’t it?” It’s just word vomit pouring from your mouth at this point, but something about what you’ve said has Leon jumping to his feet.

Before you even have time to react, he’s leapt across the table. His hand wraps around your neck, pushing you back in your chair until you go crashing to the floor. You cry out in pain as your skull connects with the ground.

Your vision is fuzzy from the impact, but you slowly blink your eyes until they focus back in on Leon’s body hovering over yours. With the grip he has on your throat, you can’t speak. All you can do is look up at him and the unhinged expression on his face.

Leon shifts and there’s a sudden sharp, burning pain in your neck. Your arms shoot up and your fingers connect with the syringe in your neck. Your eyes widen in fear.

“Good detective work, baby. You’ve figured it out. Congratulations! You found your guy!” His smile is huge and combined with his crazy eyes, has you shaking beneath him.

The muscles in your body quickly start to tingle as you lose control of them, slowly going limp beneath him.

“Goodnight.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you pass out.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

You’re awake, your eyes are open but your brain still isn’t able to process anything. You stare blankly as you try to actually wake up. The room is a blur and you can hear a voice calling out to you, but you can’t make out what it’s saying.

Sudden white hot pain has your consciousness finally catching up with you. You’re gasping for air as you finally take in your surroundings.

The room is dirty, trash littering the floor around you. The only object in the room is a chair on the other side of the room.

“Good morning. Thought that’d wake you up.”

You push yourself up into a sitting position as Leon appears in front of you. He gently pats your head causing you to cower away from him, but he just laughs at you and walks over to the chair. Every step he takes makes a loud crunching sound as his shoes connect with the debris covering the floor. The only cleared spot is the space surrounding you, just enough for your body to lay in.

You try to speak, but all you can manage to do is cough. Leon sits leisurely in his chair as you struggle through your coughing fit.

The second it passes, while you’re still gasping for air, you call out to him, “Wha-what are you doing? What do you want?”

“Crawl to me.”

You look at him like he’s insane, and in all honesty he is, but he only smirks at the look you’re giving him. He leans back in his chair so casually, legs spread open as his left hand dangles between them. It pisses you off that he looks so good like this. Maybe if he hadn’t just kidnapped you, you would be more willing to appreciate how good the view definitely is.

“I said, crawl to me.” His voice is filled with venom as he points to the ground between his legs. He cannot be fucking serious right now.

You look at the stretch of floor between you two. It’s littered with broken glass and who knows what else. It’s obviously been intentionally spread around. This house may be old and abandoned, but the sharp shards are too clean and perfect to have been sitting here long at all.

He wants you to crawl through shattered glass on your hands and knees to him. Kidnapping you wasn’t enough. Having complete control isn’t enough, he has to exercise it.

“Leon…” you struggle to find the right words, because what are you supposed to say? It’s obvious that you don’t want to crawl across this fucking floor. “Please don’t make me-”

You gasp as your body goes tense from a sudden, unfamiliar pain. It feels like several wasps just stung your neck, and as quick as it hits, it’s gone.

Your muscles finally loosen and your hands shoot up to your neck, feeling some sort of rough fabric with a rectangular plastic box at the front of your throat.

“What the fuck is this?” Your voice is strained, still panting as you try to recover from the pain.

He chuckles at you. “You will address me as sir and you will crawl to me.”

Your fingers are still fiddling with the device strapped to your throat, trying to find some way to take it off. But it’s complicated not being able to see what you’re doing. Just when you think you might be able to slip a finger under the tight, firm fabric, the pain comes back.

The stinging pain is more intense this time and longer. You’re about to collapse, unable to keep yourself in a sitting position, when the pain once again subsides.

You can’t stop the tears pouring down your cheeks, body still shaking and in shock from the intensity of the pain to your neck.

“Now. Stop fucking with your collar and crawl to me.”

Your head shoots up to him at his choice of words. “Collar?”

He licks his lips while a look of amusement lights up his face. “Yes, dumb little bunny. A shock collar. To help you behave.”

The hand that’s been lazily lying between his legs flips around to reveal the remote in his palm. Your eyes widen as your pain riddled brain slowly catches up to the present. A fucking shock collar. He put a shock collar on you like you’re some fucking dog.

“Crawl. To. Me. Now.” He spits out angrily, his tone sending chills down your spine.

When you don’t make any movement, he makes a big show of fiddling with the remote. Taunting you, warning you.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, shit okay. I’ll crawl to you.”

“Crawl to who?”

You push yourself up on your knees and lightly bring your palms to the ground, gently sitting them over top of the shattered glass. “You, sir. I’m going to crawl to you, sir.”

He relaxes in his chair once again at your answer, seemingly pleased with it. “Go on then. What’re you waiting for?”

You take a few deep breaths, attempting to will yourself to move forward. You know you have to do this, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to make the first move.

“Unless you need some more motivation. We could make good use of that collar.”

Your eyes shoot up and look up at him pleadingly, “Please, no.”

“Then fucking move.”

Leon’s patience is completely gone and you don’t want to see what other lengths he’s willing to go to to punish you.

You reach out with your right hand and your right knee slowly follows. You hiss out as your skin connects with some of the shards.

“That’s it, being such a good girl right now.”

Your breathing stops for a moment as a blush creeps up your neck at the praise. You’re so mad at yourself for your body’s reaction to his words. This is already fucking humiliating, how much worse can it get?

You move your left hand forward, breathing through the pain as it connects with the floor and your left knee follows. You’re going slow, being careful not to cut yourself up worse by being hasty.

You move your right hand carefully, blood already spilling from the cuts and onto the glass covered floor. It’s making shards stick to your skin and making everything that much more slippery.

Your right knee connects with the floor, right as the stinging pain returns to your throat. The sudden shock has you digging your knees, hands, and toes in the floor, heightening the pain you were already in.

The pain in your neck is once again gone and you’re left shaking and sobbing as blood puddles around your hands and knees.

“You know how to crawl. Go faster before you piss me off.”

You don’t know why you’re surprised he wants you to crawl faster, causing worse damage to your body. Of course he does. Why would you ever expect to be granted mercy?

You take a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. At least you won’t have to see the glass you’re crawling into.

You’re still crawling fairly slowly, but a lot faster compared to your previous pace. You’re whining and groaning in pain and you feel the glass embedded deeply in your skin connect with even more glass. Your lower legs and toes are dragging glass behind you.

You feel the burning pain throughout your hands and legs, but you focus on moving your body forward.

“Open your eyes.”

You ignore his demands. You’re doing what he’s asking of you and he has the audacity to ask for even more.

“Look at me when you crawl to me. I will not tell you again. Unless you’d like another… shock of encouragement.”

You raise your chin up from your chest and shakily look up at him, opening your eyes. He smiles at you for listening to him and you wanna rip his fucking face off.

Your heart sinks when you realize you’ve only crawled half way so far. The pain is absolutely nauseating and you’re choking down the bile that keeps rising in your throat.

You begin crawling once again, vision blurry from the tears that are continuously falling.

All you feel is the agonizing pain as you force yourself to Leon’s blurry figure. You’re on the verge of passing out from the pain when you finally place yourself between his legs.

He runs his fingers through your tangled hair, almost soothingly. And you want so badly to jerk your head away, to run from his movements, but you can’t help but give yourself over to the gentle touch. His comfort somehow pulls you back down to Earth from your pain induced robotic state.

“Show me your hands, bunny.”

You go to push yourself up but red hot pain rages through your hands and knees, causing you to scream out in pain. Your body goes to collapse from the sheer exertion, but Leon is quick to catch you, steadying you and forcing you on your knees with your wrists in his hands.

You’re shaking as the glass embedded into your knees is forced deeper into your skin beneath your newly distributed weight. You take deep breaths as you adjust to the new level of pain. Bile fills your mouth, but you’re able to force it back down, the burning sensation of it only adding to your misery.

Your eyes open again after shutting in response to the pain. Your vision clears and you find Leon studying your destroyed hands.

Blood is still oozing from your countless wounds, shards of glass sticking out of your palms and fingers. Your hands and forearms are covered in blood, you can barely see your skin tone through the mess. Your hands are unrecognizable.

He tsks as he continues to look over them. “These are useless to me now. Shame.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his words, not sure what the implications of his words are. He releases your wrists and you let your hands fall limply into your lap. When his hands move to his belt and he starts unbuckling it, you gasp and try to move away from him but are instantly met with sharp shooting pains in your legs from your injuries.

You’re stuck in place and there’s nothing you can do about it. Anything you could possibly need to do will require Leon’s help. Just how he planned it.

Rope, duct tape, or any other typical restraints are so boring. Glass being embedded into your skin as you sit in your own blood? Now, that’s new and fascinating. You’re a cute little test subject for his vile thoughts and ideas.

He slides the zipper down his pants and you finally look down at what he’s doing.

What the fuck? He’s hard, not just hard, but really fucking hard and about to pull his dick out right in your face.

Your throat is raw from your previous wailing so your words come out scratchy. “What, what are you doing?”

“Oh, baby… Look how hard you’ve made my cock. It’s only fair that you let me cream that tight, hot throat in return.”

“What?”

“Oh don’t be such a fucking prude.” He rolls his eyes as he stands before you, sliding his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to pop out, his tip poking your lips. You attempt to pull your head back, but his hand is quick to grab onto your hair and push your face into his cock. You’re frantically trying to turn your face away from him, but it only has him gripping your hair impossibly tighter.

“Now, now. You don’t need another shock of encouragement do you?”

“N-no. Please.”

“Then start sucking. And don’t try anything smart because I am more than happy to shock your annoying little ass again.”

Before you can even prepare yourself, he’s pressing his fingers into your cheeks and forcing your mouth open, immediately shoving his cock into the back of your throat. You’re instantly gagging. And you’re already so close to throwing up that you’re certain you’re going to puke all over this man's dick.

“See, princess? You don’t want me to do it my way. So fucking behave and don’t stop until I’m creaming that fucking mouth.”

He pulls his dick out and you’re immediately running your tongue up and down his tip. You’re ready to do anything to keep him from choking you like that again.

“Make me cum in less than two minutes and maybe I’ll consider sparing you.”

You suck his tip into your wet mouth, the taste of his precum flooding your taste buds.

“There ya go. You’re so hot, all dirty and bloody for me. Fuck, I’m gonna cum so fast. Pretty bunny has such a good mouth when she’s not running it.” He chuckles at his own words as you quickly bob your mouth up and down on his dick.

“Just like that. You ready to taste me, baby? Need to cream this throat.” He speaks quickly as he starts to thrust, meeting every bob of your head. His grip in your hair tightens as his hips still and he holds his tip against the back of your throat.

You resist the urge to gag and cough as you feel his cum fill your throat. You think he’ll never be done when he finally pulls himself from your mouth and stuffs his cock back in his pants. He refastens his belt and turns to walk away, but stops and looks down at you.

“Here.” He grabs your shoulder, causing you to gasp, as he pushes you down to the floor, until you’re laying on your back. “I’ll spare you.”

And then he’s quickly leaving the house, confident that you’re not going anywhere anytime fast. You realize you’re in less pain being off your hands and knees and breathe a sigh of relief. Your weight is distributed better over the glass, so your back and legs only tingle and sting slightly.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

You’re not sure how much time passes as you drift in and out of sleep, but when the front door finally opens, you can’t mask your excitement at Leon finally returning.

“Leon?” You call out in a happy, relieved voice.

“Hi, bunny. How are you doing?” His tone is lighter than you’ve ever heard it before and it fills you with hope.

“I’m gonna piss my pants, can you take me to the bathroom?” The back of your legs are getting badly cut up because you can’t keep your body still as your bladder throbs and aches.

“Sweetheart, you’re so silly.”

His tone is mocking. “What?” You're obviously confused and it has him shaking his head.

“That’s not my problem.”

“I can’t get up.” You whine out, praying he’ll give in and help you.

“I know,” he coos at you, “You’re gonna have to just piss yourself then. But don’t worry, I’ll stay here and watch.”

“What?”

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. It hurts so much.”

“And you know exactly what will relieve you of that pain don’t you?”

“But I can’t get myself up.”

“That’s too bad.”

You’re so fucking confused. You don’t understand what his game is here. It has to be about control, the humiliation it’ll bring you. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly and try your best to pretend this isn’t happening, but the pain is only getting worse and worse.

“Bunny… Just relax. You’ll feel better if you just relax.”

“Fuck no, Leon. No fucking way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” You open your eyes and give him a dirty look. “I’m not going to lay on the floor in my own blood and piss! What’s wrong with you?”

He smiles as he shakes his head, “You don’t have a choice, baby.”

You don’t know what to say to him. What can you say? Beg for his help? Hope he actually cares? It’s all so useless. You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut and clenching every muscle in your body. This is so stupid, so fucking stupid.

“You really want my help?” Leon breaks the silence, pulling you from your thoughts.

You look up at him once again, “Please.”

“Okay, I’ll help you.” You breathe a sigh of relief. He’s going to help you, there’s some sort of hope. If he can find it in himself to help you now, maybe you’ll be okay. Maybe everything will fall into place.

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a familiar remote. Your eyes widen in shock, realizing what he’s about to do. “Wait, Leon, don’t-”

But you aren’t even able to finish your statement before the shocks are shooting into your body and every muscle tenses up in resistance. A few seconds feel like minutes before the pain stops and your body goes limp on the ground. Every muscle in your body softens.

Before you can even process what’s happening, before your mind even comes back to yourself, you register a warmth growing on your thighs and ass. The warmth spreads further as you come back to yourself.

The second you realize what’s happening, you wish you’d remained oblivious. You try to stop it, but your body is so weakened that you have no more control.

You lay on the floor in your dried blood mixing with your hot piss. You’re no longer peeing, but the humiliation has tears welling up in your eyes.

The liquid starts to cool quickly in the chilly air and it has you shivering on the floor. It has you wishing you were dead.

Suddenly, Leon’s petting your head and hushing you. “You’re a good girl, you know that? Did such a good job for me.”

Your eyes dart up to his face. “What?”

“So pretty like this. All wet and helpless.” Your thighs clench together at the praise, furthering your humiliation. Leon notices immediately and smirks down at you. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

You whine as he lifts you in his arms. You’re slack in his arms because of the extensive injuries to your body. You feel your piss soaked body pressed against him and knowing your piss is getting on him makes you wanna vomit.

But that’s not the only thing you feel. This time it’s a lot less surprising, but doesn’t make things make any more sense. His erection pressed against your ass and you don’t have the energy to point it out or try to push yourself away from it.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Thankfully, not a whole lot of glass is embedded in the skin of your back, so you can happily lay in the blankets piled on top of the mattress without causing yourself any more pain.

You lay with your arms against your sides, avoiding making contact with your hands. Every time you look at your hands, your stomach twists and turns at the deformed skin. They’re cut to shit and glass shards stick out haphazardly all throughout the skin.

“Are you comfortable?” Leon asks as he runs a cold, wet washcloth across your forehead.

“As comfortable as I can be.”

“Good, good.” Leon gets up and walks across the room. You let your eyes fall shut, your body crying out for blissful sleep.

You hear Leon’s footsteps approach your bedside, not bothering to open your eyes. You’re not even sure you could open your eyes if you wanted to.

“Baby, keep your eyes shut for me, alright?” You nod as he softly caresses your cheek, pushing your hair from your face.

“Can you stick your tongue out for me? I got a surprise for you.” You hum in response, too tired to question him. But you couldn’t help the hope growing in your stomach at the thought he might finally give you some water or food.

You lol your tongue out as far as you can and feel him grab it with his thumb and pointer finger. He grips it tightly. You’re not sure why he’s doing it, but once again, you’re too exhausted to question him or resist it.

“This will be quick.”

You make a “huh” sound as best as you can with your tongue in its current position, and that’s when you hear a disgusting snip sound followed by squelching.

You start screaming as excruciating pain sets in. Your screams are cut short as you start choking on your own blood, the liquid pouring from the wound and slipping down your throat.

Leon grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a sitting position, allowing the blood to pour down your chin rather than your throat. Your body is shaking from the pain, you’re on the verge of passing out, feeling the darkness creeping up on you, awaiting to consume you completely.

“There you go, baby. I got rid of the thing that causes you the most trouble. You’re perfect now.”

Your tears pour down your face, mixing with the blood coming from your mouth. You look down at the bedspread in front of you and the sight of your severed tongue has your vision going foggy. You let out one final cry before passing out from the pain and blood loss.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It’s been fourteen years, but you still remember it like it was yesterday. You relive those events every fucking day of your miserable existence. It doesn’t help that you have optimal time to think about it in your small prison cell on death row.

Of course he handed you over to the police with some elaborate story on how he found you out and when he confronted you, you went crazy and mutilated yourself. And of course, you can’t properly defend yourself, considering he took your fucking tongue. You could write out your claims of innocence over and over, but how could you possibly convey it with words alone?

Leon framed you for all of the murders. Planted all the evidence at your apartment and in your car, “finding” all the overlooked leads in your office. It was a pretty open and shut case. Took the jury less than an hour to find you guilty and for you to get sentenced to death.

Tomorrow’s the day. You’ll finally get the lethal injection and be free from your own personal purgatory. You’re confined to a prison cell by yourself 24/7 considering if you show your face outside of it, other inmates are instantly on you. You’re America’s most brutal female serial killer, how could they not want to kill you?

It’d be too easy if the prison would just let the other inmates go through with it. Just put you out of your misery and throw your body into the prison’s graveyard. But no. No amount of suffering will ever be enough to pay for “your” crimes.

You hate yourself. You look at your unrecognizable, mutilated hands and all you can do is sigh as you slip one down between your spread thighs to relieve the ache you feel between them.

In your line of work, you were well aware that trauma could cross wires in your brain. You can’t control your trauma responses. But the fact that your pussy is always soaking wet when you think about his dick in your mouth and the praising words he spoke to you is torture in itself.

You try to think of anything else, anything else at all. Even when your fantasies don’t revolve around that man, you can’t get yourself off without thinking of what he did to you.

As you lay in bed, shirt stuffed between your teeth to silence your sounds, you feel your climax grow closer and closer and his face above you is all you can see. And no matter how many times you go over it with yourself, telling yourself it’s a trauma response, you know the truth. You know that deep down you loved what he did to you and the only thing that makes you so angry is the fact that he put you here.

Here in this cold, lonely cell to waste away for the rest of your days. Leaving you with a heart, soul, and cunt that aches for him. You know what he’s done and you hate it, but you can’t bring yourself to hate him.

And as your wetness runs down your fingers, coating your palm in the proof of exactly what he does to you, all you can think about is that fucking day. You’re going to die tomorrow and here you are touching yourself to the man that put you here.

Your orgasm tears through you, leaving you a shaking and shivering mess in your threadbear sheets on your paper thin cot. It’d be so much easier to hate him, but you have the curse of hating yourself instead.

Tomorrow you will die and pay for your crimes. And maybe the crimes you’ll be dying for aren’t yours, but you still deserve to pay for being so fucked in the head. So you’re happy, almost giddy to be dying tomorrow.

Maybe you’ve gone mad, or maybe you were always mad to begin with and it took him coming along to pull it out of you. Either way, not like it fucking matters. You’ll still be dead and he’ll still be a free man. But you caught the killer and for that, you’ll always be a good fucking detective.

~masterlist~

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zeldasnotes · 1 year

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PART22🎄

For some reason Ive noticed that Virgo women adoooore Taurus men and vice versa. I know they trine but there is something special here.

I also noticed that Sagittarius Moons and Cancer Moons adore eachother. Once they meet they are inseperable.

If you have planets in the 8th house my advice to you is to always think about yourself first. Be extremely egoistic. Because you transform people. When people meet you they become better and then they leave. People want you to be their therapist, friend, personal trainer, personal advisor because they can sense your power. They want to take from you and have it to themselves. So be careful what you give and to who. Wait with giving your partner stuff until after you are married.

People with Mercury aspecting Pluto grew up in a home where there was a lot of backhanded comments or where the communication was toxic and sneaky and thats why Mercury/Pluto people think everything people say is a hidden dig towards them. They learned that behind every sentence there is a hidden meaning and now they analyze every word.

Biggie Smalls 11th house ruler is conjunct his Sun. He was very known for his friendship with tupac, also a suspect of Tupacs shooting. His image revolved a lot around friendships and groups.

I got my Moon in my 11th house and I will always respect a person whos humanitarian and fights for equality even if I dont like the person for personal reasons. While I could never respect someone who doesnt care.

My Valentine(447) conjunct a guys Sun got me acting crazy. Like I was so in love with him it was scary. It was the ”I would die for you” kind of love.

A pattern Ive noticed with men and their Venus sign when it comes to settling down:

Leo Venus: Goes for looks and confidence when choosing a life partner. They are the kindest and most generous men but they just NEED someone to show off.

Capricorn Venus: They need someone to build and empire with, they will choose stability and ambition over looks. They need the Blair Waldorf kind of woman. They need to be a powercouple.

Scorpio Venus: Sad but settles for someone who were not their first choice. The one who saves them but they never end up with ”that girl” and they keep dreaming of that special girl and stalks her on fb until they are like 80 years old.

Pisces Venus: They spend too much time dreaming of that perfect person while not even working on themselves to be someone that person would even want. Settles down with someone whos kind and feels bad for them.

Aquarius and Leo placements can sense when something is going to be fashion. They start wearing something and one year later everyone is wearing it.

Men with moon & venus in my 1st house always treats me like a Queen. I love them😭 They make me feel so beautiful❤️

In my opinion 8th house synastry is only nice when its with someone you are physically attracted to or have good synastry with otherwise its just annoying.

Every Sagittarius Venus Ive met had some kind of charm that made them very very popular without trying. They were also gorgeous. Two of my friends from high school had this and there were always some guy madly in love with them.

Ive met so many men with Venus aspecting Saturn who asked too much about my economy. Which was a huge turn-off for me. I showed them the door🚪

Lilith in the 2nd house cant go out without people commenting on their body or asking them where they bought their clothes. People are obsessed with their stuff.

Ive seen so many royal people who got Jupiter conjunct their IC. Or IC in Taurus. Example: Prince Harry, Queen Elizabeth, Kate Middleton.

Venus is pretty, Neptune is beautiful, Moon is cute, Mars is hot, Pluto is sexy, Saturn is perfect, Uranus is gorgeous, Mercury is foxy.

I notice that a modality, sign or even element can be prominent in a whole family or even a whole bloodline. In my family there is a dominance of cardinal energy. A lot of Aries Risings, Capricorn Risings, Cancer Moons and Capricorn Midheavens. So my family cares a lot about acting properly and to be respected. In my friends family there is fixed/scorpio dominance so there is a strong sense of loyalty and secrecy. In her family most family members dont even have social media, you never talk about a family member to outsiders, you spend holidays with family and dont invite friends etc. In my family image is everything and everyone is invited to make more connections. But in these families there is usually someone who lacks that energy and that person might be the black sheep of the family.

Pluto shows strong and intense emotions in the house it sits in. I know someone with Pluto in the 11th house and she got her best friends initials tattooed.💀

People with conjunctions to jupiter are just naturally funny.😂

People with personal planets in the 8th house experience more intense relationship because people who have conjunctions to their planets will also have planets in their 8th house. So they experience 8th house synastry even stronger than others. And if they have Lilith in the 8th house it will be extra strong because then they will have Lilith synastry with those who put planets in their 8th.

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #lilith #ascendant #lilith aspects #birth chart readings #astrotidbits

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veronicawildest · 1 month

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Nakshatra series: Observations from different Nakshatras

Disclaimer: These observations are based on my personal experiences with individuals I know (including celebrities).

Ashwini:

The Ashwini girls I know have youthful, baby faces (e.g., India Eisley, Kim Chiu, my classmate). They are much softer and more likable compared to other Nakshatras ruling under vimshottari lord Ketu due to the Laghu Nakshatra quality.

Ashwini men are more impulsive compared to the women. I must add that the men of this Nakshatra are also quite cocky.

Ashwini individuals are smarter than they are often given credit for, especially in academics. They are usually overachievers and can accomplish anything they set their minds to.

Bharani:

If you have a Bharani friend, they are dedicated and loyal friends.

The romantic and sensual traits often associated with Western astrology Taurus actually belong to Bharani. While Aries are typically assertive and action-oriented, they are not usually associated with laziness. It is beacuse of the individuation and selfishness correlated to the first sign of the zodiac, Aries.

It is true that Bharani individuals love ancient mythology and history, particularly about Egypt and themes related to death.

Bharani individuals often have a resting stern expression on their faces.

Krittika:

Krittika doesn't get credit for how funny they are.

They're also fashionable, and both genders of Krittika natives are able to attract the opposite gender (sex appeal to them).

The Krittika symbol is a knife, so there's no wonder why they're blunt and cut-to-the-throat. That's why some of them have a reputation for being "rude".

Krittikas also love politics. The ones (that I know) who are actually interested in helping some people.

Rohini:

Most of the Rohini individuals are actually physically GORGEOUS. Their charm is because of their looks and style.

The reputation of "Geminis (western astrology) are opinionated and talkative" actually applies directly to Rohini natives. They like to troll people and have the last thing to say on things. (Azalea Banks)

Rohinis are actually humorous too. They have this vibe of not taking anything seriously and being innocent.

Rohini and the connection to possessiveness/obsessiveness of their partner or someone romantically. (My mom has this placement, Most of my parents' arguments stem from the fact about jealousy of my dad because of some random man)

Mrigashira:

The Mrigashira men are actually very reactive to humor if you get what I mean. It's connected to their expression and body language (Ishowspeed).

Mrigashira have actual sex appeal oozing from them, and the natives of this nakshatra have many admirers.

If a woman has this nakshatra (despite the fact that some of them are villainized by women), they actually advocate for things like "women's equality, women's rights."

Mrigashira doesn't have any problem being with the opposite gender than any other nakshatra.

They don't like to admit this, but they love drama.

Arda:

Arda natives are underestimated in that they can adapt to such social cues and reach heights despite many people hating them. Taylor Swift and Drake are Arda natives who are some of the most influential people (as of when I'm writing this observation), yet other people tend to hate them because they don't take them seriously. The backlash stems from the fact that "Taylor only writes breakup songs from her teenage years when she's 30" or "Drake is too mainstream compared to his peers in the rap/hip-hop community." Something like that. (The ones I quote are the ones I've seen on Twitter.)

Their words can actually hurt a lot. Ardas are actually good roasters. Many comedians are Arda natives, and their comedy often comes from criticism and humiliation of others (pointing out insecurities, etc.). Claire Nakti has a survey about comedians, and this nakshatra is one of the prominent ones in comedy.

The Arda natives that I observe personally have thick eyebrows. The deity has a correlation to eyebrows (I usually can't remember, I'm sorry).

(PART 2 WILL BE SOON!!!!)

#astrology notes #vedic astro notes #astrology observations #vedic astro observations #vedic astrology #claire nakti #pick a card #Arda nakshatra #Mrigashira nakshatra #nakshatras #ashwini #Krittika #Bharani #Rohini

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saviorellie · 11 months

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roommate!ellie finally gets the girl.

pairing : ellie williams x reader

pov : second person , she/her pronouns

word count : 1,026 words

warnings : none !!! part 2 to my roommate!ellie headcannons !!!

notes : 500 follower special !!!!!!! thank you so so much for 500, that’s actually so crazy !!! it means the world to me that you care about my delusions and my cute little stories !!! i love u so much !! thank you !!

ellie was finally going to do it. the pining and the jealousy and the overthinking had finally gotten the best of her. she couldn’t just sit there and watch from afar anymore. she had to tell her. she had to tell her that she was in love with her.

dina had pushed and pushed until finally ellie decided that she was right. she had bought tulips and hid them in her room for just the right moment.

and that moment happed to be while you were cooking dinner.

you didn’t cook dinner for the both of you as much anymore, with finals and end of year stress, but today you did. it’s like you knew that ellie was ready to fall at your feet.

with your back to her, ellie exited her room, bouquet in hand. she was sweating and shaking with nerves. she needed you to want this as much as she did. she couldn’t bear it if she lost you over a little crush.

“…y/n?” ellie whispered, your back still facing her.

“mhm?” you called. you continued to chop the vegetables on the counter in front of you, blissfully unaware of the apprehensive girl behind you.

“i, um, i got you these.”

finally, finally, you spun around to face her. ellie was holding the most beautiful bouquet of white and pink and orange flowers you had ever seen. you could’ve burst in to tears; she knew your favorite flower.

“ellie…” you looked at her like she had but the moon in the sky and wrote your name in it. “they’re so beautiful. thank you so much.”

you turned again, reaching into the cabinet under the sink to pull out a vase. “they’re gorgeous. they’ll look so pretty on the counter.”

you kept talking about how pretty the flowers were, how much it meant to you that ellie had bought them. as much as she loved your voice, she couldn’t go another second without telling you why she had bought them in the first place.

she grabbed your hand, stopping you from picking up the tulips and putting them into the vase you had already filled with water.

“actually, uh,” her mouth had gone dry, her hands were shaking. “i bought them for you because…”

she couldn’t finish her sentence. she was too nervous. maybe this was a bad idea, maybe she should’ve waited until you made the first move, maybe she-

“because what, ellie?” you looked at her, your question laced with concern. your best friend was standing in front of you, shaking like a wet puppy and so nervous she couldn’t speak. “what’s wrong?”

your eyebrows were furrowed and your hand was cool in her warm one. she looks so pretty, she thought.

ellie’s cheeks were flushed and the bags under her eyes were more prominent than normal; like she had lost sleep over whatever she was about to tell you. she looks so pretty, you thought.

“i’m in love with you.”

silence. you just looked at her.

“what?”

ellie was panicking. that’s not what she thought you were going to say. she should’ve said that the flowers were to brighten up the apartment. why did she say she was in love with you? why did she let dina talk her into this?

“i’m in love with you…” it was too late to take it back. the damage had been done, the friendship had been ruined, so why not dig herself a deeper hole? “but i understand if you don’t like me like that or you don’t want a girlfriend right now, i mean i’m not even 100% sure that you like girls, i just had to-“

“shut up.”

and you kissed her. ellie didn’t even have time to close her eyes. suddenly your hand was cupping her cheek and the other was holding her waist, the rest of ellie’s sentence still heavy on her tongue.

your lips were so soft, softer than ellie had ever imagined. on days when she let herself indulge in the possibility of you being her’s, it never felt this good.

as you’d later admit to her, you imagined this just as much as she did. the fear of ruining your friendship overtook your mind as much as it did hers.

you pulled away, your cheeks bright red to match her flushed ones. it was your turn to start sweating and shaking.

“i’m sorry,” you laugh, “it’s just… i’ve been waiting so long to hear you say you love me i just… i got excited.”

ellie laughs, her nerves staring to wash away. “you got excited?”

you cover your face with your hands. “stop, it’s not funny!”

ellie tries to stop laughing but she can’t help it. you just look so cute with your rosy cheeks and wide eyes.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” ellie reaches for both of your hands, pulling them away from your face. you look up and you look so in love with her that she could just burst into tears.

“so i take it you like me too?” she asks, the biggest grin on her face.

you slap her arm playfully. “god, you’re such a loser! yes, i like you!”

ellie can’t stop smiling. her cheeks hurts and you’ve never noticed that she has the cutest little dimple. you want to put your finger there and keep her smiling like that forever.

“so...”

“so…”

“i didn’t plan for this part,” ellie admits.

you try to hide your smile but with her hand on the back of her neck, she just looks so cute.

“do you want me to ask or do you want to finish what you started?”

“no, no, i’ll do it,” ellie clears her throat and runs a hand over her face to try to stop smiling so wide. “so, y/n… will you please do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

you stand on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to her cheek. “i suppose… do more flowers come with it?”

“for a yes, i’d give you anything you wanted.”

you think for a second, finger on your chin, just to tease her. “then yes. i’ll be your girlfriend.”

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omegalomania · 11 months

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FIRST NIGHT OF TOURDUST AT WRIGLEY

im writing down all the stuff that i remember so i dont forget!! obviously the big ones were GINASFS LIVE?? HELLO??? i was very unspoiled for the setlist so every song was a huge shock

tai as openers got a hUGE response. and it was great!!! im thrilled to report that bilvy is still a whore <3 he was playing submission games with mike and sisky the whole set, did snakes on a plane, doing high kicks and draping himself all over his bandmates as god intended

i mean it probably goes without saying but i need to shoutout the set design for this tour. oh my god it was SO beautiful. there were no big screens behind them, instead there was a big round screen mounted over the stage and it would play funky videos during all the songs. one half of the stage was this gorgeous blue wrought-iron looking thing with stars and monsters and a clock. the other side was glowing gold, so it was like a night/day dichotomy

there were big red curtains behind the guys and they would sweep shut for a few songs and when they opened again there'd be a new setpiece behind them. like a physical setpiece!! the first one was an anchor, the second was A MOVING DOGGIE HEAD, the third was a huge tree with owl eyes. they were fucking gorgeous

the pink seashell monologue played w/o any instrumentals before love from the other side kicked in

joe has a new guitar! it's like...green and super detailed, it's seriously so fucking fancy i need hq pictures of that thing stat

joe vocals were SUPER LOUD AND PROMINENT my god it was a blessing

patrick was KILLING it the whole concert. i was floored. fob songs are NOT EASY TO SING esp love from the other side but he was impeccable pretty much the whole night

he did fumble the lyrics to centuries tho dlfdjkjf looked like something was up with his soundboard around that time

they hit us with a triple-punch of chicago is so two years ago, calm before the storm, and then where is your boy, all in a row. patrick talked a little bit before where is your boy to be like "yeah so this was forever ago...i was jogging..." and pete chimes in "imagine us jogging"

patrick also talked a bit before they rolled the piano out. he was like "hi guys!! :)" and talked about how the set design was all pete's idea and it was super fucking fancy and he was floored by it. he said that pete suggested he play piano and then was like "ugh i dunno im not GREAT at that" (you fucking liar) and then that led up to the medley that closed with don't stop believing and the rest of the band joined in and AGHHH

i was not prepared to hear headfirst slide and disloyal order in the same night.

i was not prepared to hear HEAVEN IOWA that night. of all the stardust songs i did NOT EXPECT THAT ONE

for those who were involved in the stardust project, it went off really well the first night! i got my pink seashell and during fake out i looked behind me and the whole stadium was lit up pink! after it was over, pete was like "wow that looked amazing guys" so the band definitely noticed!

pete did the baby annihilation monologue live! he seemed kind of nervous he had his hoodie pulled up and everything but he delivered it very different from the studio version and when it was over he pulled a big black curtain over himself and then disappeared when it fell

save rock and roll live is always a treat but my god when the camera pulled back and i saw that all four members of fall out boy were smiling while they sang OH NOOO WE WON'T GO. my god. my heart.

they did not do a proper encore because they didnt want to tread into curfew, so we did not get a picture with them

OKAY THATS ALL I CAN REMEMBER FOR NOW. ILL ADD TO THIS IF I REMEMBER ANYTHING ELSE <3 THIS WAS A STELLAR START THANK YOU FALL OUT BOY I LOVE YOU FALL OUT BOY

#fall out boy #fob #tourdust #tourdust spoilers #*making poasts #very worth flying to chicago for this <3

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 year

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congrats on 1k! can I request bucky fluff where the reader is plus sized and is insecure about her stomach & love handles specifically so she distances herself from bucky and doesn’t want him to see her for a couple days but on the last day she just breaks down and he helps her🥺 thank you

im plus sized too and I’ve been having a hard time recently. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬) 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

― pairing: bucky barnes x plus size!reader

― summary: the toxic thoughts never really went away, and instead of pushing bucky away, you finally decide to let him in, to help you.

― warnings: body Issues, insecurities, crying, a bit of self-hatred if you squint, referenced bullying.

― wc: 1014

⋆ a/n: i'm sorry this had been sitting in my inbox for so long, but i hope you feel better, and just a reminder, you are beautiful/handsome/gorgeous or whatever terms you prefer, and you don't have to change for anyone.

masterlist | AO3

It was no secret that you were bigger than everyone else; chubby, plus sized, fat, plump, curvaceous, whatever you call it, that was who you were. It was hard being larger than other people throughout your childhood to teenage years, people were mean, and it most definitely altered the way that you thought about yourself.

Even though you were an adult now and managed to separate yourself from that toxic mindset that you had to be skinny to be beautiful, degrading thoughts popped up occasionally. It was a subtle change, starting from paying extra attention to how your double chin looked in pictures, to how your clothes felt a little too tight and itchy against your skin, and ever since you had begun to date Bucky, these episodes grew intense.

When you were a teenager, it felt as though no one would ever have a crush on you, and even if they did, they would rather be caught dead than admit that they were into the cute chubby chick in their class. With Bucky, this was totally different. He wasn’t afraid to be vocal about his attraction to you, let alone able to keep his hands off you; he was always grabbing something, either that be your hand, thigh, hip, waist, and scandalously enough, sometimes your tits and ass.

So, when you had moments like these where you couldn’t help but glare holes at the prominent bumps in your pants, the curve of your stomach that pushed out your shirt, you didn’t want to be touched, let alone be around Bucky. When you felt so lowly about yourself, you began to question your self-worth, questioning whether you deserved Bucky’s affections, that you deserved him. It was no secret that Bucky was extremely handsome, that he was quite the charmer with his sarcasm and flirtatiousness, and he directed all of that to you.

It surprised you at first, that a man like him confessed that he couldn’t keep his head on straight while you were around him, that his brain trailed to many different places when he thought about you.

It had been a couple of days since you had texted Bucky, let alone took him up on any of his offers to go out on a date. You couldn’t imagine yourself wearing that dress that your boyfriend loved so much, couldn’t fathom him even being seen with someone like you. Being cooped up on your couch in clothes that were big enough to practically blanket over your full body while wallowing in self-pity seemed like a better time to you than tolerating the rather judgmental glances people on the streets would give the two of you. Trashy tv had been playing for longer than you could remember, your home growing to become an absolute mess, the motivation to practice self-care had pretty much been thrown out of the window.

Occasionally you pondered the idea of instead of shutting Bucky out when you had gotten like this, talking to him about it. You didn’t want to sound whiny or like you were searching for compliments, seeing as though he never forgot to remind you every single day that he thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he had been alive for a very long time. You knew he wouldn’t be mean about it, that he would be more than happy to reassure you that you were his, that your body was like a temple that he felt was a privilege for him to be able to explore.

Then it hit you, like that wall of despair had finally crumbled down, and then, you were crying. The feeling of loneliness loomed over you as you allowed yourself to sob, to feel warm tears trail down your plump cheeks. Reaching for your phone, you didn’t hesitate to click on Bucky’s number. He didn’t even allow it to ring over one time before he picked up.

All he had to hear was your sniffles before you received a, “I’m on my way, doll.”

It didn’t take him that long to reach your building, opening your door with a key that you had given earlier in the relationship. You tugged him into a deep embrace, burying your face in his shoulder as you shook. His metal arm held you close to him as his flesh one stroked your back soothingly, only moving when you had calmed down. That’s how you wound up sitting on the couch once again, Bucky’s hand laying comfortingly on your thigh as he waited for you to tell him what happened.

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, Buck.. I just.. haven’t been too comfortable with my looks lately. Whenever I get like this, I sometimes question whether or not you should even be with someone like me. I mean c’mon, I’ve been dating an ex-avenger, the guy that helped take down the Flag Smashers. When I think about it, me and you just sound kind of ridiculous.” You knew your words sounded cruel, painful even as Bucky felt like his heart was getting ripped out of his chest. “Baby, nothing about us sounds ridiculous. In fact, I think we sound just right. You’re my girl, sweetheart, I chose to be with you, to let you see all of me, and you know that’s not easy for me to do.” The hand that was on your thigh moved up to cup your cheek, gently pulling your attention to him.

“I love all of you. Every single curve, bump, and flaw that you may think you see in yourself. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone or anything, so try to remember that for me, please, hun.” You felt tears springing back into your eyes as you allowed him to pull your body into his, laying himself down so you could lay directly on top of him. “Buck..” You whispered in embarrassment. “Ah ah ah, doll. I think you keep forgetting that I’m a super soldier.” He teased, wrapping his arms around you.

“Sometimes.” You said sheepishly with a smile on your face.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love

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natalyarose · 18 days

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𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓽 𝓒𝓸𝓫𝓪𝓲𝓷 - 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓎𝓈𝒾𝓈

warning: very, very long lol

I wanted to create an in depth chart analysis on someone, and it had to be someone famous whose life I knew well. I honestly don't keep up with celebrities much, but the obvious answer to me was Kurt. When I was an angsty, hurting, misunderstood young teenager, he had my whole heart. I came from a very 'pristine' upperclass neighbourhood, yet my home life was a battle ground. In my childhood, I didn't meet a lot of people like me who were also hurting or have been to dark places (or at least, nobody would talk about it), so someone as raw as Kurt & a sound as unapologetic as Nirvana was like an oasis, I felt love. I sort of grew out of the 'obsession' with him as a person, but I still remember the way Nirvana and Kurt's imprint on this Earth made me feel. I was utterly intoxicated. The music, the poetry, the eyes, the passion, the pain of an outcast, the sarcasm, the anger at injustice... magic.

So without further ado, let's delve into Kurt's chart. I'm going to try to talk about the key things I notice. I'll be applying Ernst Wilhelm's Dhruva Galactic Center Ayanamsa (on Astroseek, Galactic Center mid-mula).

Moon in Punarvasu

Let's start with the Moon, typically considered the most intimately personal planet in Vedic Astrology. It actually takes some adjusting for me to see Kurt as a Punarvasu Moon since in Lahiri he is Ardra and I think he's sort've become a 'poster child' for the moody, edgy, destructive nature of Ardra. Even I used him as a prime example of Ardra in a video a few years ago... but I realise now it makes perfect sense. He is still very Rahuvian, which I'll further explain in a bit.

First of all, we're looking at the Sidereal Gemini section of Punarvasu-a brilliant mind, comedic, a writer, a communicator, and as we know a musician. I see Punarvasu's Jupiterian nature in his kindness, gentleness and intense loyalty to his values when it comes to protecting & advocating for the innocent. Kurt was very protective of women and children and despite his 'rockstar' image, was humble and always seeking to use Nirvana's music to advocate for social change. I know this behaviour can be seen as Rahuvian in nature, but I actually think this perception comes from misunderstandings from the Ayanamsa issue. Rahuvians can absolutely take an interest in social/political protest, but often Rahu natives prefer to 'play the game' and find purity and order in the chaos & illusions rather than actively push for expansion (Jupiter) and change.

As seen through various forms of literature & media documenting his life, Kurt had a tendency to look out for & befriend underdogs- a common trait of Jupiterians.

Another thing to note is that Jupiter rules sound. A strong Jupiterian placement gives an extremely powerful sonic presence. Kurt was an amazingly versatile singer, his ability to alternate between soft, melodic vocals & raspy, fierce, powerhouse metal-esque vocals was- is, phenomenal. The emotion and meaning conveyed in his voice is felt vibrantly even when the lyrics are muffled (famously, Nirvana lyrics are hard to understand lol).

The gentle nature of Kurt's Punarvasu Moon really shines through in these photos I love. Not to mention, Punarvasu being the Cat yoni! Kurt adored his cats. He also adored his daughter, in the sadly, short time he spent with her, in interviews and photos taken around the time we get a glimpse of his love and tenderness.

Physically, yes, Kurt has very Rahuvian gorgeous eyes, the 'scruffy' look that's typical of Rahu men, etc. - but look at his chin! Jupiterian natives are easily identified by their prominent chins (Jupiter connecting to the voice places an emphasis on the chin/throat area). Not to mention his hair- Cat yoni Nakshatras often give very sleek, smooth hair like a kitty cat. I know a few Punarvasu men with that kind of hair.

Punarvasu Nakshatra is often connected to imagery of angels. A lot of famous photos of Kurt depict Angel-esque wings in the background. Nirvana's album 'In Utero', depicts the figure of a woman with angelic wings. I see the Punarvasu angelic effect in the way I often see people remarking that Kurt was 'too pure for this world'.

One more distinctly Punarvasu theme I want to mention - Punarvasu's mythology is all about second chances, 'trying again'. Before Nirvana, Kurt started a band called 'Fecal Matter' (lol, wonderful). The band fell apart, but then came Nirvana. It is said that Punarvasu natives always get a 'second chance' or that things come in twos.

tw//

Another much sadder manifestation of this theme: As talked about in 'Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck', as a teenager Kurt Cobain attempted suicide. He heard a train was coming then went and lay on the tracks. It turned out that the train went on the other track. I guess you could say he got a 'second chance' in a way.

As we know, his life ended through suicide :(

Kurt's Punarvasu Moon sits in his 10th house, considered the house of career, the public eye and ambition. This makes perfect sense and is a very common placement to see in celebrities. With Moon in the 10th house, the emotions and internal nature are on display to the public in some way, which is true for Kurt. The native is radiant and marvelled at in their vulnerability of spirit- the 10th house and MC can be seen as the sky, and when Moon is in the 10th, everyone is looking up at you, enchanted.

His Moon is quite close to Jupiter. Most people would say it's too far to be a conjunction and technically it is, but I have a very open mind when it comes to aspects- especially aspects to the Moon! The faster changing the planet, the more sensitive it is to surrounding planets. I would argue that the Moon can feel influenced by planets close to a whole sign away (I'll have to make a seperate post on this at some point).

Anyway, Jupiter being close to Kurt Cobain's Moon only enhances his Jupiterian qualities. Jupiter on (or near to) the Moon can amplify the intensity of a person's emotions and internal convictions.

Jupiter also relates to spirituality - Kurt explored different religious structures (Christianity, Buddhism, etc.) at various points of his life, which makes makes sense considering his Jupiter ('Guru', spirituality, faith) is in Pushya, a Saturnian (restriction, structure) Nakshatra. Pushya is also known to be the 'birth of sadness' amongst the Nakshatras.

Ascendant in Uttaraphalguni (conjunct Pluto & Uranus)

Of course, in traditional Vedic Astrology the outer planets aren't used, but I incorporate them; especially when they're this prominent in their positioning- Kurt has both Pluto & Uranus very closely conjunct his ascendant, Uranus & ASC forming a 0° orb. While amazing, it is very typical to see this or similar astrological placements in the charts of people who've had a major impact in this world! While the inner planets are more personal, the outer, slower moving planets speak of the masses. Outer planets are generational, showing their influence in major trends and global events.

Kurt having these outer planets so close to his Ascendant speaks to how powerfully influential he has been on our world. He's inspired not one, but now many generations of youth with his image, his legacy.

It is not uncommon for people with Pluto on the Ascendant to become famous for their death which rings true for Kurt. A lot of people who may know not much else about him or Nirvana, know of his death and the tragedy surrounding it. Pluto gives him a natural intensity.

Uranus on the Ascendant speaks to a person who is eccentric, erratic or somehow unusual. 'Alien-like'. Kurt is often praised for his unique, unconventional mind and approach to his artistry. The first house being intimately related to how a person dresses & represents physically, Kurt dressed in many controversial ways, often to make a statement on political issues (wearing dresses for example).

It is no wonder Kurt's ascendant is in Uttaraphalguni, a Sun ruled Nakshatra. Sun ruled Nakshatras are radiant and tend to make natural leaders. He was of course, the frontman or the 'face' of Nirvana. Uttaraphalguni tends to be very good natured, but no-nonsense. Especially in the Virgo section. Uttaraphalguni natives are often kind in my experience, but have little tolerance for lack of efficiency which is true of Kurt, who held his bandmates to a strong standard. This Solar objectivity of knowing what's up to standard and what misses the mark is likely a big reason for Nirvana's huge success! Kurt was known to be somewhat ruthless or at least, very particular in how he wanted things to go in the band. (also a trait we see in Venusian Nakshatras; Kurt having Rahu in Bharani).

Sun Nakshatras tend to bless their natives with a natural sense of ease and comfort. The unapologetic authenticity Sun Nakshatras radiate means it's not uncommon to see these people as pioneers in whatever their field is. Nirvana was a huge catalyst and made a name for themselves in the genre of 'grunge', but Nirvana continues to inspire all kinds of artists to this day.

Kurt having his ascendant in Uttaraphalguni made him a naturally magnetic person to women and men alike. People are extremely drawn to the warmth, loyalty and genuine nature of Solar natives.

Authenticity was a value held in extremely high esteem for Kurt. It was typical for him to do things like, playing songs Nirvana was told they couldn't play, just for the principle of it. While I mention Kurt's exploration of religion earlier, Kurt rejected the Catholic concept of God very strongly. He despised what he saw to be unfounded control over others' being, creativity & sexuality.

Sun Nakshatras are self made: they lead, others' follow/take inspiration.

A very good friend of mine showed me that people with strong Solar influence in their charts photograph very well in black and white because of their energetic radiance (they shine so brightly, they don't need colour to stand out). It also can be attributed to the fact that Sun Nakshatras tend to give strong and sometimes sharp & chiseled features. Another interesting thing is it's not uncommon to see Sun people with natural golden yellow-y streaks through their hair, which is true of Kurt Cobain.

Sun in Shatabisha

Shatabisha is the all seeing eye. It is the Nakshatra pertaining to secrets & the collective unconscious. Shatabisha natives are very tapped into the minds and emotions of the collective. They can be natural born mystics, very hyper aware of 'behind the scenes' or 'under the surface' societal themes.

A lot of Shatabisha natives are extremely cognizant of social & political issues. While I believe it is moreso Jupiter Nakshatras that take on that strong drive to actively make noise and make a change, Rahu is the observer, Rahu sees what is the issue. Hence Shatabisha translating to '100 healers'. Rahuvians will often dress or behave in unusual or eccentric ways, as if to show the world they cannot and will not be placed into a box of any kind. I mentioned earlier Kurt dressing and portraying himself controversially in ways such as wearing dresses, very aligned with Rahuvian nature.

Rahu/Shatabisha's sensitivity and attraction to altered states of perception (the all seeing eye wants to see the world from many angles) means that there is often a natural inclination to explore substances. A lot of Shatabisha natives I've met in real life engage in some form of escapism be it through gaming, drugs, or even sugary foods & energy drinks that give that hit. This is especially the case for Rahu influenced men rather than women, because the slightly more feminine nature of Rahu can feel less natural to men. They may feel they have a harder time dealing with the challenges/expectations related to being a man in society when they are influenced by such a flowy & feminine force. They feel themselves being the observer rather than the 'do-er' and it can cause self-esteem struggles. However, Kurt's other placements (namely, Jupiter & Solar influence especially) helped to give him a natural ability to be more hands on in life.

Of course famously & tragically, Kurt got lost in his addictions and his mental health deteriorated. I'm sure we can't blame the entire tragedy on Shatabisha energies and there's more in his chart we could look into to understand why/how this came to be, but looking broadly at patterns of Rahuvian men, we can understand the theme.

Shatabisha natives have the ablitiy make amazing art; the sheer vastness of their minds and Rahu's receptivity to external influences means that they have a wealth of ability to take in inspiration from others, then transform it into something unique and out of this world!

Every Shatabisha native I've met knows EVERYTHING there is to know about the artists, books, fashion, YouTubers, etc. they are interested in. They often have physical collections, and are very keenly attuned to pop culture (or just media in general). I've met a lot of Shatabisha natives who have a very specific genre/subculture they take interest in and know everything about, yet they still know everything about 'mainstream' culture too. Idk how they know so much lol, but I believe the all seeing eye effect of Shatabisha makes it easy for them to take in that information very efficiently.

We see this incredible art & knowledge of culture in Kurt, who was openly a fanatic of many other artists and referenced who and what he knows time and time again in his music.

Kurt's Shatabisha Sun is in his 6th house, meaning these energies are especially highlighted when it comes to his everyday life, day to day employment, etc. which we know is true seeing as he was a musician.

One of Kurt's first girlfriends used to be the 'breadwinner', and Kurt would stay home and paint or write music.

Also in his 6th house is Mercury in Purvabhadrapada- Mercury rules over the intellect, communication, thoughts. Kurt was known to be very moody and somewhat unpredictable. Purvabhadrapada's symbol is a man with 2 faces, so an unpredictable and dualistic quality can be see in the way he expresses himself. Mental health struggles can definitely be seen with this placement. Being the height of Jupiter, we also see a more aggressive form of Jupiterian challenging of limitations & societal expectations in Purvabhadrapada, which we do see with Kurt.

Uttarabhadrapada 7th House Stellium

Kurt Cobain has Venus, Saturn & Chiron in the 7th house.

The 7th house is the house of marriage, partnerships, business and other people. I learnt that the 7th house is associated with fame, as when you are famous you know a lot of people/are viewed by the people. Also, achieving fame often has more to do with connections, contracts, and partnerships than it does to do with ambition & talent alone. So it makes sense that a famous person would have a strongly lit up 7th house.

Looking at photos of Kurt, I'm noticing how Saturnian he appears- the symmetrical features, 'stern' look. That also can be attributed to him having a prominent Sun Nakshatra which gives a 'stoic' nature, but Saturn really comes through as well. He is also very Saturnian in his rulebreaking tendencies- Saturn Nakshatra men tend to have a strong internal moral code but love to break rules that they don't deem to be rules that are there for a good reason.

At 19, Kurt spray-painted 'God is Gay' and was arrested for it. He did this to irritate homophobic people, homophobia being something he stood strongly against having had a very close friend in school who was gay.

Uttarabhadrapada in particular is an extremely intense Nakshatra. It's related to sacrifice & suffering in the name of providing for the greater good, being the cow yoni (as cows provide milk). It's symbolised by the death bed. This is eerie knowing of his suicide, but beyond that I think it really fits with Kurt's views on fame. He didn't necessarily enjoy being famous or plan to become as big as Nirvana did, but in a way being that famous is sacrificial. The media milked him and his life in whatever way they could as they do with most uber famous people.

The 'suffering', Saturnian starvation and sacrificial themes in Uttarabhadrapada have a natural connection to the story of Jesus, which of course we see Kurt depicting Jesus on the cross in the Heart Shaped Box music video. A beautifully poetic song.

Venus being the planet of beauty, love, art, and femininity, means it is very important to look at in the chart of an artist, and Kurt's Uttarabhadrapada Venus being conjunct Chiron really speaks to how a lot of Nirvana & Kurt's songs speak of pain and suffering. Chiron is 'the wounded healer'- it is said that where your Chiron is can be where you have the power to help or heal others, but struggle yourself.

Of course, Kurt's 7th house Uttarabhadrapada stellium reflects his infamous relationship with his wife Courtney Love, very well. Kurt's ascendant is in sunny, jovial Uttaraphalguni, and many are of the opinion that Courtney or at least, the relationship really dragged Kurt down and wore down his psyche sadly. I don't like to speak too badly of anyone, but a lot of people see Courtney as a huge influence on Kurt's deteriorated physical and mental health. They would exasperate one another's drug issues, both struggling to stay clean even with a baby in the picture.

Courtney is really painted as a villain by many which is very Uttaraphalguni-Uttarabhadrapada axis... Uttaraphalguni is the shining Sun, Uttarabhadrapada is the dark, cold depths of the ocean... also, ice. This perception is rampant, many viewing Courtney as a manipulative 'psycho', some even theorising that Kurt's tragic death may have been a homicide of her doing.

You could even say that Courtney is the Uttarabhadrapada 'sacrificial lamb'; her own reputation taking a drastic hit so that the image of Kurt as blameless for how things ended can live on. Of course, it could be read the other way around in that Kurt was the 'sacrifice' in this relationship. Either way, these energies are present.

These photos of their wedding (famously, Kurt is in his pyjamas lol) in Hawaii are actually very Uttarabhadrapada in nature- the stormy dark weather and the ocean outside. The Sun is feint in the background- perhaps could be interpreted as symbolic of Kurt's Uttarabhadarapada 7th house (of marriage) drowning the light & joy of his Solar ascendant. Not that they had no joy together, but more that together they were headed down this dark path.

Rahu in Bharani/Ketu in Vishakha & Mars in Swati

Being a Shatabisha (Rahu ruled) Sun, Rahu in Kurt's chart becomes extremely significant being a depositor.

Rahu in Bharani is I imagine, at the root of a lot of Kurt's artistic interests. Kurt had a fascination with life & death, life in the womb, & the female anatomy, all Bharani themes. The most obvious example of this being Nirvana's album literally being called 'In Utero'. Also, there is a Nirvana song literally titled 'moist vagina' lol, a personal favourite actually (I find it so sexy & raunchy in an odd way haha)

Another thing that comes to mind is Heart Shaped Box- after Lana Del Rey (Bharani Venus & Rahu) covered it, Courtney Love revealed that the song was about her vagina lol...

Ketu in Vishakha can speak to obsession and drive, Vishakha being 'the Star of Purpose'. This is an extremely strong willed and potentially very artistic placement for Ketu. Vishakha is ruled by Indra, King of the Gods & Agni, the God of fire. Indra ruled over storms and rain. Ketu in Vishakha gives way to very intense emotions and a very powerful drive to create and fulfil what gives the native that sense of purpose. For Kurt, that was his music. I'll note that this means Kurt has a Grand Trine in the three Jupiter Nakshatras -

Moon in Punarvasu, Ketu in Vishakha, Mercury in Purvabhadrapada

A grand trine in a chart can point to someone possessing a unique gift or ability that comes effortlessly to them. As mentioned earlier, Jupiter rules the voice & sound in general. Jupiter rules expansion, growth. The weakness of Jupiter comes with overindulgence, going too far into the deep end. While Saturn willingly goes into the deep end through sacrifice & limitation, Jupiter can drive itself into dark places with its sheer lack of limitation.

Mars in Swati is at first glance, a very gentle Mars as Swati is ruled by Vayu, God of the Wind. It is not an angry Nakshatra perse, but it can be extremely cutting and 'quick with words' as it is the butcher caste. Of course, Kurt was a poet at heart.

One of Swati's main mythologies (to make it short and sweet) is about a boy who impressed the Gods with his bravery and abilities, and was then blessed with powers. However, the boy was a mischievous child always causing pranks, so for his 'naughtiness' he was then cursed to forget his story & his powers. However, later down the track he was reminded of his powers and his past.

This story highlights Swati's tendency to be extremely self-doubting of their own capabilities. They have 'forgotten' their powers and need to remember. Swati natives really struggle with feeling as though they aren't 'enough' and just like the story, really need people in their life who consistently remind them of their abilities and what they're capable of.

Kurt was known to be very self-deprecating in this way, often doubting his abilities and and despising the way he looked (also something we see with Chiron conjunct Venus).

Swati also gives a playful and childlike nature, often taking an interest in dolls, cartoons and other playful novelty things which is true of Kurt.

IC in Mula, MC in Mrigashira

Lastly, I'm going to briefly talk about Kurt's IC-MC axis.

The IC represents the childhood, home life & inner/private self. Mula is the final Ketuvian Nakshatra, and translates to 'roots'. Mula's primary motivation is truth, getting to the honest root of things regardless of whether it's pretty or not.

Mula for this reason is a Nakshatra associated with destruction, because the truth will often break absolutely destroy the ground of faulty foundations in society.

As the IC, this could represent a situation where in the household, this child acted as the whistle-blower of truth and saw through the family dynamics + were outspoken about what they saw. This rings true of Kurt, he was seen as somewhat of a 'problem child' at home and was outwardly, vocally embarrassed and unhappy with the turbulent family situation.

So at Kurt's core inner self, he valued truth. He would rather an 'ugly' disturbing truth than a beautiful lie.

The MC represents a person's outer persona, the identity and values the person wishes most to present to the world. Mrigashira is the birth of Mars. Mars is the maverick, the rebel, but also the fighter.

I definitely see that society at large had this perception of Kurt that he was this martian, aggressive person in some ways; especially taking the emotion and lyrics put into him & Nirvana's music at face value.

Mrigasira Nakshatra is known for being a 'troll', and Kurt trolled the media a looot. I think of that time in Nirvana when he intentionally butchered Smells Like Teen Spirit. Or him mocking the media's constant gossip about him like in this clip '...dead, pregnant, on heroin... I'm a hermaphrodite as well!' lol.

I'm going to finish this analysis here, this ended up being very long, but I hope it was interesting for someone! It was good practice for me... it also reminded me why I don't do readings anymore lol, I love astrology but... man. This was just the icing on the cake too!

Thankyou for reading ♡

#vedic astrology #nakshatras #astrology #chart analysis #kurt cobain #sidereal astrology #astrology observations

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hey!! Could you please write a tasm!peter x reader where the reader is taking care of him maybe after Ben? Or after he’s had a bad day and js needs to be held? Or maybe he’s just sick. Idk you decide. If you can’t I understand :)

AN | I went with reader taking care of Peter when he’s all stressed out, hope that’s okay!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You heard the familiar opening and closing of his window, following along with a few thumps and then a heavy sigh. Thin fucking walls. You padded over to the wall that you shared with his bedroom and listened for a few more moments. No other sounds met your ears and you flopped back onto your bed and sighed. Over the year and a half you’d lived next to Peter Parker you’d learned how to read his sighs well, especially the ones that came after a night of patrolling.

Oh yeah. You’d figured out that he was New York’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man pretty early on. It was quite a surprise when you woke up in the middle of the night and found him tumbling into your room and pulling off the mask. He was tired, he’d gotten confused and accidentally landed at your window instead of his own. He’d panicked, but you assured him that you would never give away his secret. Why would you? You had nothing to gain from it and you happened to quite like your extremely attractive neighbor.

Just as you felt yourself starting to drift to sleep you heard a few subtle, but distinct little groans. If you hadn’t been so attuned to Peter, you might have missed them. Deciding to make sure he was okay, risking the fact that he might be annoyed by presence, you grabbed an old hoodie and slipped it along with your slippers and walked out of your apartment and over to his. You hesitated for a moment, hand raised to knock, but you didn’t have to bother. Peter opened the door and moved wordlessly to the side so you could come in.

“How did you…?”

“Heightened senses,” he reminded you, vaguely gesturing at himself, “heard your heartbeat.”

“Oh,” you didn’t know why but the thought brought warmth to your face, “how did you know it would be me?”

“Smell,” he explained, “and no one else is up at this hour.”

“I had a late shift,” you worked at the hospital a few blocks over as a nurse. Realistically he’d probably gotten extremely lucky that you moved in next door. You’d patched him up a few more times than you would have liked. You finally looked him over and saw that he was shirtless. Fuck. He was gorgeous but you quickly cleared your head - you had not come to stare at your hot neighbor, “I heard you come in. You sounded…Peter, are you alright?”

“Yes - yeah,” his promise fell flat as he looked at you with a small grimace. You could see him clutch at his side subconsciously, “just tired. I didn’t mean to disturb you, ‘m sorry. Cute bunny slippers.”

“You didn’t,” you gave him a small smile as you reached for his wrist and moved his hand away from his side. Underneath the top of the grey sweatpants he was wearing you could see some blood seeping through the fabric at his hip. He frowned when he saw the upset look on your face, “you said you weren’t hurt, Peter.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted meekly, “I heal fast, remember?”

“But you’re still bleeding now,” you huffed as you held onto his hand and dragged him into the kitchen. He sat down without you having to say anything as you went into his bathroom to grab the first aid kit. Peter was silent, a flurry of emotions running through his veins, the most prominent being affection, as he watched you get on your knees and folder over the waistband of the sweats. He heard how your breath hitched in your throat and your heart rate increased a little bit.

You cleaned the gash on the side, tutting when you saw that there was dirt and gravel around it, along with the fact that it needed stitches. Thankfully that was something you did almost daily and it took no time to get it sewed up. When you were satisfied with your work, you wrapped it all up to keep it clean. He gave you a small smile when you stood back up, “thank you. I really don’t deserve you, you know?”

“It’s the least I can do,” you insisted as you washed your hands before turning back to him, “you keep New York safe, and I can try to help keep you safe.”

You looked angelic in the soft glow from the overhead lights, the cityscape behind you. Peter nodded, slowly standing up so he wouldn’t irritate his side further. He came over to you, putting his hand on the side of your face as he gently stroked your cheek, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Peter,” the soft, intimate moment made you bite the inside of your cheek. He was still half-dressed and even more gorgeous when he was right in your space, “I should get going. It’s late. Get some rest, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he dropped his hand and you immediately missed his touch, “you too, sunshine.”

You walked towards the door, but stopped and turned around before leaving, “it’s okay to let others take care of you sometimes, you know? I’m just…take care of yourself, Pete. You work really hard all the time and you deserve to rest too. Please don’t run yourself ragged. I like seeing you, but I don’t want it to always be when you’re hurt. I…good night, Peter.”

“Good night,” he remained rooted in place as he let your words ring around his head. You were so kind and genuine, and you were always so sweet with him. He didn’t want to flatter himself and think you liked him as he liked you, but he couldn’t help but wonder. He listened to you get back into your apartment and quickly get into bed, “good night, sweetheart.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next time you saw Peter you weren’t sure whether you wanted to take care of him or strangle him. It was when you both came home from work at the same time and he looked dead on his feet. The exhaustion was evident on every part of his body; his eyes had extremely dark circles, he was hunched in on himself and his movements were lethargic. You couldn’t stand to see him like that.

“Peter,” he hadn’t even noticed you, so tired and unaware of his surroundings. You stopped him from opening his door and pulled him with you to your apartment. He didn’t even make a sound of protest as he brought him inside and locked the door, “Peter. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you look horrible.”

“Thanks sunshine,” he gave you a dopey half hearted little smile, “at least one of us looks good.”

You tried to suppress the feelings those words brought up as you shook your head at him, “I asked you to take care of yourself but this is not…you didn’t listen to me, so now you don’t have a choice. You’re stuck with me, Peter.”

“Whaddaya mean?” poor thing. He sounded practically delirious.

“You are going to take a long, hot shower and then you’re going to take a nap while I make dinner,” you took his hand again and pulled him to your bathroom, gently pushing him inside. It was like reality suddenly kicked in and his pretty ochre eyes grew wide, “I’m not taking no for answer, Peter. So get in there and shower. I’ll go over to yours and grab some clean clothes, okay? Just…use whatever you need. Please?”

“Okay,” he nodded, his heart hammering in his chest at the realization that he was in your personal space for once, trusted to be there and use your things. You quickly went and grabbed him a fresh towel, “thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” you whispered, “I’ll umm…I’ll leave your clothes on my bed, okay? You can just go in, you know the layout and all. I’m going to start dinner.”

You pulled the door closed, sighing softly when you realized that at least for tonight he was going to be taken care of. If he’d let you, you’d do it for him every night. You busied yourself with going to his apartment, ducking into his bedroom, trying not to stare or snoop as you went into his dresser and grabbed him a clean shirt, sweats, and boxers. They smelled like him - delicious - and you couldn't help but bring them to your face to inhale the soft scent.

Once you realized what you were doing, you pulled yourself back into reality and rushed back to yours, neatly laying the clothes for him on your bed. You tried, and failed miserably, not to imagine what the man in your shower looked like, and instead started pulling out ingredients to make dinner.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You heard the water shut off at some point, and gave it some time for him to change into the clean clothes you’d set out. But after more than enough time, and without him making an appearance, you decided to check on him. You finished draining the pasta and returned it to the pot before padding to your bedroom. You didn’t hear anything but when you opened the door you quickly realized why.

Peter was on your bed, fresh clothes on and starfished over the entirety, his head burrowed in your pillow. His mouth was open and he was snoring lightly; he must have been exhausted. You went to your closet and grabbed a clean blanket, tenderly putting it over him, “sleep well, Peter.”

You went back to finish dinner, the only thing on your mind was Peter. You’d found your feelings for him growing stronger and stronger in the time since you’d moved in. At first you were positive that you were just attracted to his looks, because honestly? He was incredibly attractive. But then you got to know him, and realized he was also kind, funny (in his own dorky way), and basically a certified genius (scientist by day and Spider-Man by night, holy fuck), and friendly. You liked him a lot, and cared about him deeply.

You doubted he felt the same way about you, but you didn’t mind. As long as he knew that he was cared for, that was all that mattered. You were sitting on the couch, half paying attention to the movie playing on TV and attempting to read. Your mind currently couldn’t focus on one or the other, lost to your thoughts of -

“Hey,” you startled at the sound of Peter’s soft voice as he shyly padded into the living room. You hadn’t even heard him get up, but you could easily tell that he seemed a little refreshed.

“Hey Peter,” you set down your book and motioned for him to sit down on the couch, “you feeling better sleepyhead?”

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, sitting down and angling his body towards yours. You smiled softly and he was glad he was sitting because the sight alone was enough to make his knees weak, “thank you…for everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” you insisted, “you needed it and it was no bother. I like having you around. I made dinner, but that was a while ago…it won’t take long to heat up, though.”

“You’re amazing,” his brilliant smile and part of you wished this was your reality every evening. You could get used to having Peter Parker around, “how long was I out for?”

“A couple of hours,” you admitted softly, “I thought about waking you up, but you needed some rest. I made pasta, garlic bread, and some salad. I hope that’s okay?”

“More than,” as if on cue his stomach rumbled loudly, “do you need a hand?”

“Not at all,” you gave him a pointed little look, “just sit back and relax. Put whatever you want and I will be back in a few.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was easy spending time with Peter; you never ran out of things to talk about, there was never any awkwardness or hesitation with either of you. But as it got later into the night, you grew sad when you realized he was going to go back to his own apartment. He’d be sleeping in his own bed just a wall away from you; it felt more like a whole world when you didn’t want him to go.

At some point the conversation naturally died down and you could see him watching you closely, as if he was trying to study and figure out exactly what you were thinking and feeling. You swallowed thickly but turned your gaze to the handsome man, offering a small smile.

“Can I ask you something?” There was tension in the air, but it wasn’t a negative thing. It was just…charged.

“Anything.”

“You…why are you so nice to me?” The simple question caught you off guard and you found yourself floundering. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before shrugging innocently.

“Because it’s the right thing to do?” you weren’t sure if you were asking or telling him, “besides…y-you’re a good guy, Pete. You take care of everyone but it’s like you forget to take care of yourself. Sometimes we all just need a friend.”

His gaze was intense, and you found yourself looking anywhere but at him, “I don’t want to be your friend.”

The words hit you like a train as you looked at him, shocked by his words and ready to cry already, “y-you don’t?”

“I mean,” he exhaled nervously, “I don’t just want to be your friend. I…I want to be more than just your friend.”

“Oh,” your eyes grew wide and nervous as you a small flush of pink rose up in his cheeks. He was sure your pretty doe eyes would be the death of him, “l-like a best friend?”

“Silly thing,” your face warmed up when you realized that wasn’t what he meant either. Oh. Oh, “sunshine, I really like you. Not just because you help me when I’m hurt but…it’s everything.”

“Oh,” he chuckled softly as he reached over and tenderly touched your face, “I-I like you too, Pete.”

“I know,” he smiled softly, “you’re some kind of wonderful, you know that?”

You weren’t able to find the right words so you settled for a bashful little shrug that had him shaking his head affectionately, “you too, Pete.”

“Listen…” he exhaled softly, “it’s been a long time since anyone’s shown me as much kindness as you have. It’s been a long time since I’ve let someone in. No one knows who I am, really am, besides you. And yeah, it was an accident how you found out, but honestly, I would have told you. I trust you…I like you. It’s hard to…allow myself to get close to people. I don’t want anything to happen and sometimes it can be risky. The last person…the last person I loved died because of it. I couldn’t protect her, and I felt like a huge part of me died that day too. That’s why I’ve always made it a point to keep a distance from a lot of people.”

“Peter…”

“But I don’t want that with you,” he finally got those words out, eyes searching yours to gauge your reaction, “I want to let you in and see you everyday and get to…be with you.”

“I want that too,” you whispered, blinking back a few tears, “Peter…”

“It’s okay,” he gave you a soft smile, “you don’t have to say anything right now. Just know that I appreciate you more than I could ever put into words. I…yeah. Thank you, for everything. I should get going…it’s late and I’m sure you want some rest too.”

He stood up to leave, but you didn’t allow him to get anywhere, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. Peter turned around and gave you a hopeful little smile, “don’t go. Stay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” there weren’t a lot of things you were sure about but Peter Parker was one of them, “we both need some rest. The rest we can figure out later. But for now please just stay.”

“I will,” Peter threaded his fingers through yours with a gentle squeeze, “always.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x you

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welcometothejianghu · 1 month

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 叛逆者/The Rebel.

The Rebel is a 2021 period drama set during the 1930s and '40s as seen (mostly) from Shanghai by a patriotic young man who just keeps getting injured, ow, that poor baby.

It's a fairly realistic spy drama, by which I mean, there's not a bunch of cute costume changes or fun fake identities. Instead, this is a story about people who live entire other lives for years, keeping their true allegiances under wraps, doing what they can to help their side while sweating out what they can’t. It's way more John le Carré than Ian Fleming -- no James Bond flashiness or gizmos, all George Smiley subterfuge and paperwork. Actual spycraft is tough, kids!

Full disclaimer up front: This show is not a happy fun good time. It's a fascinating, gripping, tense piece of work about a thirteen-year period of history where a whole lot of miserable things were happening. The body count is frighteningly high. Be very careful about which characters you get attached to. Exactly one man has plot armor, so God help the rest of them.

However, if you're up for a quality drama with a serious tone that's so full of HISTORY! it's bursting at the seams, I have five reasons you should give this one a shot:

1. Starring the veins in Zhu Yilong's forehead

Do you feel like watching a beautiful man have a terrible day for 43 episodes straight?

This show is absolutely a Zhu Yilong vehicle. The rest of the cast is great (and more on them later), but he's the star -- and the show just loves to beat him up, both emotionally and physically. His character, Lin Nansheng, exists in a Murphy's-Law situation where if anything bad can happen to him, it will. If you like seeing this gorgeous gentleman in distress, this show has you covered.

Someone please care him.

2. Daddy Issues

Chen Moqun is a bad, bad man. He's a bastard in his first scene, and he's a bastard in his last. He is loyal to exactly one thing, and that is his own survival. He will ally with anyone and fuck anyone over if it means he gets to live another day.

He is also scaldingly hot in his bastardry.

Chen Moqun is the spymaster who pulls Lin Nansheng out of the regular military ranks and into the world of the intelligence services, despite Lin Nansheng's lack of experience in the field. This means that Lin Nansheng is Chen Moqun's little golden boy -- and that means Chen Moqun feels justified in making Lin Nansheng do whatever the hell he wants, and in getting all up in Lin Nansheng's business when he doesn't do it perfectly.

I know there are several of you out there whose tails just started wagging. Good, you've got it.

Alas that he is not in nearly as much of the series as his top billing suggests he would be. He's a major figure in the early arcs, but pretty soon after, Circumstances relocate him to somewhere Lin Nansheng isn't -- and because Lin Nansheng is our POV character, Chen Moqun all but vanishes from the show. He reappears later, but as a much less prominent figure. Still a self-serving bastard, though! Don't worry about that.

I like Chen Moqun as a character for a lot of reasons. He's slimy, but he's effective. He's smart, but he's not a supervillain. He's the kind of competent bastard that it's very fun to watch the good guys outwit. He kind of has to leave the narrative, because he's so sharp that much of the plot would be impossible under his supervision; he gets replaced by [spoiler], whose general incompetence makes him dangerous in a very different way, but who is so self-absorbed that he can't see when he's being played. Pulling the wool over Chen Moqun's eyes is a much nastier business.

At the same time, though, he's a coward. He'll sell out anything and anyone to save his own skin. His lack of inner conviction eventually reduces him to something pathetic, leaving him at the mercy of people he once abused, Lin Nansheng included. ...Ah, your tails are wagging harder now, I see.

Now, for those of you who are not into a Bad Daddy dynamic, may I sell you on how Lin Nansheng also has two Good Daddies?

Honestly, if this show had not been laboring under the weight of [gestures to the state of Chinese media and culture], I'm pretty sure they would have made at least one of these two Older Lifelong Bachelors textually gay. I'm just saying, throw-yourself-into-the-cause-style patriotism is a great cover for never marrying and being cagey about your entire personal life.

Also, I know their super-secret espionage meetups on park benches aren't intended to look like dudes cruising, but come on.

3. A startlingly good love story???

And I say "startlingly" because the love story comes in multiple stages, and I haaaaaate the first one. Fortunately, so does the show!

When Lin Nansheng and Zhu Yizhen start off their romance, she's a wealthy college schoolgirl (which comes off as more than a little creepy, since Tong Yao is clearly in her late thirties) and he's a TA at her school -- except she's actually a student activist working for the Communists, and he's a member of the KMT sent to seduce her and infiltrate her cell. It goes exactly as badly as you'd expect! And when it was clear it was over for good, I breathed a sigh of relief. I liked them both as individual characters, but as a romantic pairing, the amount of malicious deception involved really wasn't doing it for me, to say nothing of how I dislike teacher/student as a trope. (Also, they really have no chemistry together, but whatever, I'm used to c-drama hets by now.) Well, I thought, thank goodness all that's over and we'll never have to come back to it!

But here's the thing: They come together again later under different circumstances, and oh, that's some good stuff. She gets a haircut, he gets to be himself, and the two of them have to learn how to work together even when they can't entirely trust one another.

That amount of deception is great, because that's not lies -- it's opsec. They are both withholding colossal amounts of information from one another, and each one of them knows the other's doing it, even if they don't know what information is being withheld. They both want to know what the other person knows, but they also know that person would die before giving up their secrets.

This does lead to a number of points where you're hollering JUST TELL HIM/HER at the screen, which can get a little frustrating. But, like, you get it. They've got reasons for not sharing information, and grim little reason number one is, the bad guys can't torture out of you what you don't know.

This is not a romance drama; this is a drama that happens to have a complicated romance stitched all the way through it. Sometimes it's the main focus, but much of the time it's a side note. The two of them go years at a time without interacting. They each spend a fair amount of time believing the other is dead. When they do get to work together, they're great partners. When they're separated or at odds, they don't collapse.

I said earlier that Lin Nansheng is the POV character, which is mostly true. However, we do get a not-small amount of the story told from Zhu Yizhen's POV when he's not around, which goes a long way toward making her an actual person and not just an accessory to his story -- and that goes a long way toward making this romance something between equals, and not just a case where a nice guy feels real bad about how much he fucked over the girl he liked.

I'd say that if you're looking for a drama where the love story is a central point of interest, or for a drama without any love story at all, you'll be happier elsewhere. However, if you're a Goldilocks who enjoys a fraught love story when it's there but doesn't miss it when it's gone, this may strike a good balance for you!

This pair is also about as much as the show gets in terms of textual, onscreen romance. Howerver, there are also a number of couples in this show who have to pretend to be married, if that's a trope that does it for you. And speaking of those...

4. My Fair Lady

Lan Xinjie turned out to be maybe my favorite character in the show, which surprised the hell out of me, considering how she was introduced as a pretty throwaway character: Oh, look, a pretty and sophisticated woman at the dance hall, she can use her refined and wordly ways to make The Virgin Lin Nansheng sweat, it's great.

But then she comes back. In fact, she keeps exiting the narrative and then showing up again a couple episodes later! Her continued involvement with these spy boys keeps both ruining her life and saving it. Every time you think she's gotten out, circumstances pull her back into Lin Nansheng's catastrophe orbit, making her maybe the most tragic character in a series full of them.

Here's a thing that impressed me about the drama: Lan Xinjie is a sex worker, but the show never shits on her for that. The show presents what she's doing as negative, but mostly because she doesn't particularly enjoy doing it. She keeps doing it, though, because sometimes it's the best way for her to make money, and sometimes it's the only way for her to make money.

The thing is, Lan Xinjie herself never talks about what she's doing like it's some tragic fate. It's a job. She has to play nice with jackass men from all over the world, and she can do it because men fall all over a pretty girl like her. Whenever Lin Nansheng makes a sad face about it, she basically rolls her eyes at him. She has a very solid grasp of the way the world works, and she's going to do what she needs to do to keep herself and her loved ones alive.

Now: Lan Xinjie definitely functions in the narrative as a contrast to how Good and Pure Communist Girl-Next-Door Zhu Yizhen is. Lan Xinjie is a little too much of a Fallen Woman, so she's never going to threaten Zhu Yizhen's position as the main love interest. However, it would have been so easy to go all in on slut-shaming Lan Xinjie to make that contrast even starker, and the show does not do that. It does not judge her for her choices, in part because it understands that women like her very often doesn't have any.

On top of all of this, Zhu Zhu can act her damn face off. There are story beats that could have been melodramatic and unintentionally comic, but she sells them and makes them devastating. Arguably the best scenes in the entire show are when she and Zhu Yilong are working together, because the two of them consistently turn in stellar performances. This show is not exactly a font of subtlety (see my next point), but both of them manage to play their roles with restraint and dignity that make their moments together shine.

I won't spoil where exactly this goes, but to me, the complicated relationship between Lin Nansheng and Lan Xinjie is one of the highlights of the show. It's a lot of guilt and obligation intertwined with genuine affection, and because it can't be The Love Story, it winds up being a very fraught, intimate friendship that lasts through the best and worst parts of both of their lives.

Also, everything she wears is stunning. Marry me, Miss Lan.

5. Makes you feel real smart!

Hey, nerds! Do you like history? Because boy oh boy, is this a show about history!

It's so much a show about history, in fact, that it occasionally has to break into little documentary-style interludes, where you get to watch pictures of actual historical footage while one of the cast members narrates a small summary of what's going on with the geopolitical situation at that moment. Everyone in the main cast is fictional, but there are plenty of real names dropped all over the place. You aren't expected to know everything already, but you're definitely expected to keep up.

I will admit that I don't know the ins and outs of that historical period well enough to fact-check a lot of the particulars, so I can't swear to the accuracy of its various smaller moves. I do know enough about it to know, though, that this story is a little biased.

And by that I mean: This show is propaganda through and through. It’s all about how well the Righteous Communists did in their battle first against the Terrible Japanese, then against the Wicked KMT (the non-Communist Nationalists). Characters give stirring declarations of their principles at a rate of about one every other episode. There’s a whole scene where two dudes sit on a park bench and talk animatedly about what a great and prescient writer Mao was. Be prepared to be serenaded by a number of (what I assume are) stirring Communist anthems.

This all has zero emotional resonance to me. There were several points I could tell it was making references to events and people and speeches that are surely real historical things, but I lack most of the cultural competency that I’d need to recognize them without explanation. The climactic moment of Lin Nansheng’s joining the Communists (this is not a spoiler, you know it’s coming from the get-go) mostly seemed goofy to me, especially with the closed-fist salute that looks like you’re about to punch yourself in the head.

See what I mean?

All of which is to say: The propaganda did not bother me, because I mostly found it abstract and funny. And for heaven's sake, I'm from the US; I learned how to laugh my way through unsubtle pro-government propaganda watching Saturday morning cartoons.

However, I can imagine people closer to these cultures and events having MUCH stronger reactions. If this is you, yeah, be careful.

What's kind of sad (and by sad I mean funny) is how much the blatant Communism! Fuck Yeah! just turns the show into the "How do you do, fellow kids?" of propaganda. If it had just told the story, it honestly would have done a better job of making the Communists seem like the cool underdogs against the overpowering forces of authoritarian jackassery. But when you have someone all but turn to the camera damn near every episode to make sure you, the viewer, know how good and noble and smart its brave communist characters are, it sure spoils the effect.

I honestly don't know enough about the production team to know how accidental or intentional this was. Is it possible the drama is actually subtly lampooning these hyper-patriotic tropes? Sure, maybe! Is it possible that it actually believes this cringe with all its heart? Could be! Is it maybe neutral on matters of personal belief but playing up this version of history to get the show approved by party censors during the 100th anniversary of the founding of the CCP? Ah, yeah, that's the most likely one. Believe what you want about its motivations. Those who are inclined to be moved by its ideologies probably will be. The rest of us, probably the opposite.

All that said: I actually think it's useful and good to hear obviously biased takes on historical events, especially from unfamiliar and non-western perspectives. This is because all takes on historical events are biased, and it's dangerous and stupid to pretend they're not! Looking at how someone tells a story is as instructive as looking at the story they tell. If you go into the Rebel with that in mind, it adds a meta-layer of interest that I (a historian) find fascinating.

Ready to watch, comrade?

This one's an iQiyi exclusive -- and it's not a VIP exclusive, so if you're willing to put up with some ads, you can watch it all for free.

This is a show I'm probably never going to watch all the way through again, on account of how heavy it is. However, it is also a show I'm very glad I watched, because I find myself thinking about it a lot. Even when it's being hokey and jingoistic, it never stops being interesting. It's just a well-made drama that contains multitudes.

And, of course, one of those is this beautiful man's beautiful face.

#the rebel #叛��者 #lin nansheng #i made this #rec post

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justmeinadaze · 2 years

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In the Eye Of the Beholder ( Eddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: Ok let me start this by saying we all agree that Joseph Quinn/ Eddie Munson is gorgeous. Lately, I've been seeing a a lot of Plus size stories with Steve and or Eddie being with a plus size reader which are all dope! I did notice a common theme though where the reader is insecure about their physique and these 2 characters need to show them how beautiful they are. Now when I was kid I did have some insecurities about my weight but that vanished pretty quickly. I love my body and like the character in this story I'm proud of what I've done with it. That's the prospective I tried to write from here.

To all my beautiful souls out there that may be struggling with their body image I want you to know that your feelings are valid. You are beautiful inside and out. And NEVER be ashamed of who you are. <3.

Warnings: Eddie feels ashamed about his body. Friends to lovers. Loss of virginity. Protected and unprotected sex (stay safe!), handjob (m receiving).

Word Count: 3,330

You and Eddie had been best friends for years. The minute you met him after he moved into the trailer park with his uncle you knew this is someone you wanted in your life forever. As you both got older, you grew more into your personalities and, of course, your bodies. Eddie started getting into metal music and what you called his “nerd vices” like Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings. You loved that 80’s synth pop and came to enjoy sports especially volleyball. You were ecstatic when you made the team. Eddie made fun of you but you knew he was proud.

Eddie shot up in height and by high school he prominently towered over you with his broad shoulders. Where Eddie went vertical your body seemed to move horizontal with your tummy and hips expanding to being bigger than what people deemed as “normal”. It genuinely didn’t bother you though or Eddie for that matter. You two would go out, filling up on burgers and milkshakes till you felt like you were going to explode. You were captain of the Varsity team at school and had some of the best stats in Hawkins. You never felt like your body slowed you down and the only opinion that matter to you was Eddies.

When the girls would giggle behind your back Eddie would shout something crass like “Hey! Ladies? I assume you’re laughing because you just don’t understand.” He gestured his hand up and down your body. “This is what a beautiful woman looks like! Maybe when you finally grow up and grow into your tits it will make sense!” You would push his shoulder playfully and he would just pretend to be confused.

It wasn’t until your freshman year that you really started to look at Eddie that way. You noticed him casually talking to Chrissy Cunningham and you felt a fire light inside of your belly.

“You seem angry.”

“I’m not angry. I will be though if you keep pushing me!”, you snap at him.

He holds up his hands defensively. “Woah. Ok.” Eddie tosses you a sideways glance before lightly tapping your shin with his sneakers. “I don’t like her like that you know?”

You turn your head away from him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.” He pushes his tongue into the inside of his cheek, smirking in your direction.

“Look, Edward”, you sneer at him, “I don’t care who you talk to especially miss rah rah.” You move your hands like you’re shaking pom poms. His still smirking at you his grin growing the more you deny the accusation. “Whatever. I’m going home.”

As you turn, you feel his hand reach out and grip your elbow, turning you abruptly. He places a soft kiss on your lips and it feels like everything lights up in your body from your head to your toes. When he pulls back and you open your eyes you can see that same feeling shimmer through his own. You beam up at him and try to shake the arm that is still gripped in his hand.

“Ow.”

Eddie quickly let’s go suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to grab you so hard.”

You’re the one with the smug grin now but you are so elated by what just what happened. You lean over and kiss his check. “I’m fine Eddie. I have enough cushion and I’m not made of glass.”

After that moment, the two of you finally pushed past friendship and moved into the realm of lovers. You guys went on dates and events around Hawkins. He went to all of your games even though he would rant occasionally about sports being “forced conformity”. You watched him play D & D with the Hellfire club and went to every show at The Hideout where he played with his band. One of your favorite dates was when you surprised him by taking him to a tattoo parlor just outside of the town.

“Baby! What should I get?” He shouted without looking up from the binder he was browsing. You slowly come up behind him, wrapping your arms around to his chest. He raises his left arm so you can twist your head around to see.

“Why don’t you get a nerdy one? ‘I went to Mordor and all I got was this silly tattoo’?”

His cheeks puff out slightly as he holds in his laugh. His arm comes back around to hold you in a playful head lock. “You know, you’re hilarious. Jokes like that? Never EVER get old.”

You smile up at him as he lets you go and bends down to kiss your forehead. “Eddie, get whatever you want. I’m paying for it for your birthday.”

He finally makes a choice and the tattoo artist brings us back to a room to get started. Eddie reaches up and takes off his Hellfire shirt, handing it to you. You freeze staring at his chest. Now, you two had definitely fooled around. His mouth had been on you and fingers inside of you. You had gone down on him multiple times but the two of you haven’t actually been naked in front of each other yet. The last time you saw him without a shirt he was 12 when you guys had gone swimming in the lake. He was a man now and the way he was currently rubbing his huge hand over his stomach wasn’t helping.

“Hey! Stop ogling me like I’m a common hussy!” Eddie’s hands shot up to cover his pecs. You blink back to the moment, laughing at him.

“You keep looking that good and I’ll have to start treating you like one.” You follow it with a wink.

His head dips the side and he bites his tongue. You’ve won this round.

“Ok, Lovebirds! Either get a room or lay down dude.” The tattoo guy holds the stencil ready.

Eddie lightly slaps your ass as he heads for the chair in the middle of the room.

After that moment, it wasn’t long till you two decided you were ready for that next step. The first time he saw you fully naked in front of him was like he had discovered Atlantis. His hands and lips roamed every part of your curves and skin. His beautiful, brown eyes were full of nothing but love and compassion. You never wanted anyone else to look at you the way he does.

“Ok, um, are you sure about this? It might hurt, I’ve heard.” He was hovering just above you with his hands resting on your cheeks. Your legs were wrapped about his waist and his condom covered cock was waiting near your entrance.

“Yeah”, you whisper. “I’m ready.”

He reaches between you and slowly pushes his tip inside of you causing you both to let out a moan. Eddie starts slowly moving his hips, still guiding himself with his hand.

“Eddie”, you groan out his name and his eyes immediately come up to meet yours.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”

“No, no. I mean a little but it’s ok. That was a good moan. I promise.”

He lets a sigh of relief and pleasure. He’s enjoying himself and he wants you to be to. It’s not long be he’s all the way sheathed inside of you. His arm comes back to other side of your head. He’s still pumping his hips incredibly slow and you can hear him murmuring things between your neck and shoulder.

“Baby”, you reach for his face but he can only lift his head enough to rest on your forehead. “Baby, tell me what you’re saying. I can’t hear you.” His eyes are squeezed shut and you lean your lips up to meet his. “I want to hear you.”

He swallows a moan before he finally speaks. “So…good. You feel…so tight. I can’t…I don’t…”

“You don’t what, baby? Tell me.”

“I don’t want to go slow.”

You run your hands through his hair moving it so you can whisper in his ear. “Then don’t.”

With your permission now given, his hips start moving faster. You moan out his name over and over into his ear as he places his head back near your neck. You feel that coil start to tighten in your belly and you begin to grind your hips to meet his. Eddie immediately gets up on his hands like he’s about to do a push up and looks down between your bodies. He leans back down on one of his elbows as his other hand reaches down to aggressively rub your clit. You practically scream as the coil snaps. Eddies pace slows as your pussy clenches around him.

“Fuck!” he grunts out as he thrusts into you slower but harder. You grip on to his shoulders tightly as he spills into the condom with one more hard push. It takes him awhile before he realizes your chest underneath him is shaking. He lifts his head to look at you and is shocked to see you crying.

“Oh Sweetheart. I didn’t…I shouldn’t have been so rough. I’m sorry. I—”, Your hand comes up to cover his mouth.

“I’m not crying because you hurt me. I’m just”, you move your hand and replace it with your lips. “I’m just happy. I love you, you idiot.”

He grins down at you as he wipes away your tears. “I love you to, mean.”

It was now a few years later. You made it into a college with a scholarship thanks to your sport and stellar grades at Hawkins High. Eddie was working at a record shop just around the corner from the apartment you both shared. He still played guitar hoping one day to become a serious musician. You both couldn’t be happier… or so you thought.

Eddie had been a little out of sorts lately. He had told you he was just exhausted from the shifts he’s been working but it still didn’t sit right with you. You didn’t want to push him. You figured he’d tell you if something was really wrong. You should have known better. After all these years, you know Eddie is going to wait until his top blew and tonight seemed to be that night.

You were working on some schoolwork at your desk when Eddie had stomped in from work slamming the front door behind him. The sound of him banging cabinet doors echoed from the kitchen. You make your way towards that area and lean in the doorframe, your arms folding across your chest.

“So, not a good day then?” You say casually as he pops the top of some whiskey and pours into a small glass.

He turns his body towards you and leans against the counter. “What gave it away?” He replies sarcastically as he takes a sip. Oh, he wants to fight. He’s angry about something and you want to help him get it out so you decide to play his game.

“Should I let finish your little tantrum or would you finally like to tell me why you’ve been so upset?”

Eddie chugs the rest of his drink and reaches over to pour another. “You know that little attitude”, he gestures at you with his finger, “isn’t helping.”

“Says the guy stomping around and slamming things like a 2-year-old.”

“If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. I don’t need you to mother me.”

“Then grow up and tell me what’s going on!”

Eddie abruptly lifts his arm and throws the empty glass against the wall, shattering it behind you. You turn around and look at the mess. This completely new behavior. He’s never done anything like this before. When you turn back to meet him everything about him as changed. He no longer seems angry just extremely disappointed in himself as he realizes he fucked up.

You open your mouth as a million different things run through your head. You’re worried about him but you’re also angry. You want to scream at him for crossing a line but you’re so confused at where this is coming from. You want to say something sassy so he feels as hurt as you do right now but you know he must be hurting already if it got to this point. You have so many things to say but all you manage to get out is a stern and forceful, “No.”

You turn and make your way towards the bedroom, him following hurriedly behind. “Y/N. Y/N, please! I am so sorry.” You try and slam the door in his face but he firmly blocks it with his palm. “Hey! Come on! Just talk to me.” He reaches for your arm and you angerly pull it away. You head for the closet and pull out our suitcase throwing it on your bed. When you turn to head back to grab some clothes, you barrel straight into Eddie’s chest as he grabs your shoulders. “Please! I just want to talk.”

You shove him away from you with all the strength you have. “NOW you want to talk?! After weeks of moping around and coming home today like this, now you want to talk?!” You push his chest again. “I figured ‘hey if it’s important he’d tell me ‘But I guess I was wrong if it’s bad enough for you to do… something… like …that!” In the middle of each word, you push at his chest again. “You do NOT get to do that, Eddie!”

You push your suitcase to the floor and sit on the bed crossing your arms again. You’re trying so hard not to cry but this may be a battle you end up losing. Eddie moves to your desk and slides the desk chair over till it’s directly in front of you and takes a seat.

“How did you do it?” His question cutting through the silence.

“Do what?”, you huff without look at him.

“When the kids at school would make fun of you. How did you not let it bother you? You’ve always been so confident in who you are. I just…” he cuts himself off.

You look at him then. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His gaze looking through the floor into the past.

You uncross your arms and shrug slightly. “I don’t know. I mean, it just never really bothered me. It’s my body not theirs and I’m proud of what I’ve done with it. Being big never stopped me from getting what I wanted. School, sports, you.” His eyes shift up to lock with yours. “Is someone making fun of you? Because you know I will kill them!”

He grins at you letting out a breathy laugh. “No, sweetheart, no one’s making fun of me.” He lets out a strong exhale as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “Occasionally, these kids come into the store and I listen to them talk. They’re into things I’ve never even heard of and then one of the new guys they hired is ripped with like this 6 pack. I just feel old and insecure.”

“First off, Edward Munson, you are 22 so calm down.” You both laugh. You stand up and pull at his hand to do the same. You guide him towards the bathroom and turn him so he’s facing the mirror. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?” He meets your eyes in the mirror shaking his head no.

You reach over and pull his shirt over his head so his chest is fully exposed. You come up behind him and reach around to run your hands down his chest over his tattoos. He closes his and lets out breath through his nose. You kiss his back down to his spine and circle around his side to his tummy. You trail up his stomach till you reach his chest. “I see a good heart who’s been there with me through everything. A beautiful stomach that has housed so many burgers and pizza in high school that we thought we’d puke.” His stomach vibrates against you as he laughs. You hop up on the counter and pull him closer to you with your legs. You run your hands down his back. “I see a strong sexy back that I get to kiss every morning.”

You unbutton his pants and push them down with your feet as your run your nails up his arms that are now placed on either side of you on the counter. “These arms that have carried me every time I was tired, sick, or even when it’s raining and you don’t want me to get my feet wet.” You rub your foot along his hairy leg. “These legs have run to me so many times when you get excited to see me and pick me up to give me a kiss. These particular legs also kicked Jason Carver’s ass when he called me a fat slut.”

He chuckles at the memory. “Fucking asshole.”

You smile at him then realizing that almost all of the tension he had previously seems to have disappeared. You lean forward taking his cock in your hands. The sudden contact makes him twitch as he licks his bottom lip. You use your other hand to snake around his neck and pull down so his lip are close to yours. “This cock”, you continue in a low seductive voice that makes him growl from his throat. “Your cock has made me cum so many times and so hard that you’ve brought me to tears.” You bring your hand up to lick your palm, bringing it back between his legs as you pump your hand at a faster pace.

“Eddie, look at me.” His eyes shoot open as he lets a lets out a moan above your lips. “I love you for you. I always have. I don’t care about your physical structure or any of that cosmetic crap. The fact that you are handsome is just an added bonus. To me you ARE perfect. Fuck everyone else.”

He reaches down to stop your hand and lifts you up from the counter to carry you into our bedroom. After throwing you to the bed, he reaches up to tug down your shorts and panties. He pulls you by the ankles towards the edge the bed where he is stands and grins as you giggle up at him. He brings his hand to his mouth and spits into his palm as he lubricates himself. You open your legs wide displaying your already wet pussy as you bite your bottom lip.

He guides himself into you bottoming out with one push. You both let out a moan as he sets a brutally quick pace. He reaches around with his hand to rub your clit with his thumb. You shout his name as you cum, your body shaking. Eddie pushes your legs together pressing them to your chest as he thrust into you as harder as he can before he releases inside you. He falls on the bed next to you as you both pant trying to catch your breath.

His head turns to look at you and you do the same. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” He reaches for your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. “I honestly didn’t know how to say it. It felt stupid. I felt stupid.”

You bring his hand to your lips, kissing the back of it gently. You roll to your side and scoot closer to him using your other hand to caress his cheek. “Baby, it’s not stupid. You’re not stupid. You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“I know.”

“Now if you ever throw anything at me again, I will stab you.”

He laughs as he lets you go to hold up his hands defensively. “Okay. Okay. Fair! I better go clean that up.” He bends over to pull up his boxers kicking his pants to the side. He lingers in the doorway. “I’m going to make it up to you. Dinner on me, okay? How does some greasy burgers sound?”

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn smut #fan fiction #eddie x reader #eddie x plus size reader #you are beautiful

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farfromstrange · 3 months

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Do No Harm

CHAPTER EIGHT: First-Date Jitters

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: It's time for your date with the beautiful stranger from the hospital, and you are beyond nervous. Still, you're already in too deep to pull out now, so, you jump into the cold water and learn how to swim.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, comfort, some first-date cliché behavior, mentions of domestic violence (in thought), foreshadowing (?), flirting, physical contact, suggestive language (slightly), Matt's charisma uniqueness nerve and talent

Word Count: 5.3k

A/n: This flirty little shit won't leave my mind. Anyway, my plan was for this chapter to be one continuous chapter, but it got so long that I had to cut it into 2 parts (or this beast would have been 10k words). That’s why you’re getting a double update today. I tried not to put too much angst into this. It's still angsty, but there is a lot of comfort for the angst and the hurt to compensate for it, and I think that's beautiful. I don’t know about the writing though.

Read Chapter 8: First Date Jitters here on AO3

Many questions naturally come to mind when one is preparing for a date. How will you get there? Who will pay? What could you possibly talk about that has a high chance of boring neither of you? The question you find yourself grappling with the most though is, what the fuck are you supposed to wear?

After spending years trapped in a cage, your self-confidence took quite a hit. You used to feel somewhat satisfied with the way you looked, but John always had something to criticize. Your weight, your hair, your facial features—nothing was ever good enough for him. After breaking down your walls and making you believe that you were the best thing that ever happened to him, he knew how to manipulate you best. At least he looked at you. You were grasping at straws, holding onto the vision of a man who was never real, and you forgot your worth along the way.

“Wear that dress you borrowed from me and never gave back,” Claire says on the other end of the line.

You sigh. You have been staring at your closet for an hour now, and you haven’t come further than picking out what underwear to wear. With shaky fingers, you reach for the dress. You know exactly which one she meant.

“Are you sure I should wear a dress?” you ask. “I mean, it’s kinda cold outside.”

“That’s why they invented tights and over-knee socks. Oh, and maybe wear those heart-shaped earrings I got you for your birthday. They look good on you.”

You scan the dress with careful eyes. You’ve barely slept after getting home, and now your head is pounding. Earlier, you sent Matt a text, confirming the time and place for the umpteenth time, but as half-past two is inching closer on the clock, the unease is starting to creep deeper into your bones.

You promised Claire not to cancel, but that doesn’t take away the fear and the sheer agony you feel inside when you think about all the things that could go wrong. Alone the thought of facing Matt’s gorgeous smile in a different setting than the hospital sends a shiver down your spine, and it’s not fully pleasant.

But no. You swore you wouldn’t give John what he wants, and he surely would be punching the air if he knew that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He would celebrate if he knew that you just can’t seem to get over what he did to you. Then again, if he knew where you are now, the only thing getting punched would be you. He might even kill you. God knows he’s capable of unspeakable things.

His name is too prominent in your mind: his face, his voice, his scent. You need to drown him out. You need to stop making everything about him. It isn’t healthy. And Claire was right when she told you that it’s a good thing another man—a good man, at that—is making you feel things you long couldn’t because you were too scared to allow yourself to feel even the slightest hint of affection.

You have to honor your promise to yourself and see where this date might take you. Matt is gentle. He won’t mind if you’re a little nervous. Hell, he won’t even mind if you wear a pair of sweatpants instead of this stupid dress, but you can’t deny that you still want to put yourself together and appear in something other than a pair of medical scrubs.

The dress you borrowed from Claire is a good fit for your skin tone and body type, you can’t deny that. It has turned heads before. You wore it to one of the fundraising campaigns Metro General sometimes hosts—it was summer then, a lot warmer than it is now, and you were toying around with the kids that came with their parents in Central Park. You were in charge of the games that day. One of the firefighters complimented you, but he was respectful about it, and his partner even asked you for a drink, but you declined both of them. They weren’t your type, although they were nice. It’s a fond memory that momentarily eases your anxiety.

Matt is nice, and he’s your type. You know he’s your type even after years of unlearning what your type even used to be. It’s not a coincidence that the two of you got along so well when you first met, and that he cared so much the other day when you got hurt.

Fuck. You realize you’re going to need to cover your nose with concealer. Not because Matt would care—he surely wouldn’t—but you don’t want to be looked at weirdly by the barista of your favorite coffee shop. That would be embarrassing.

“Liv?” Claire’s voice breaks through your downward spiral.

You snap out of it, throwing the dress on the bed. “Yeah, I’m here,” you mumble, working at your pajamas that you still haven’t changed out of. “I’m wearing the dress.” There is a certainty in your voice that surprises you.

You want to wear this dress. You want to go out with Matt. And you want to turn his head, even if you can’t do it with your looks. Looks are hardly all that matters, anyway. You have to remind yourself that he sees your mind, hears your voice, and has a different view of your soul than others. That’s what matters. That is all that should matter. You just have to make sure that you smell good or he will probably be appalled, considering blindness comes with heightened senses. If only you knew how heightened they truly are.

Your friend lets out a happy little, “HA!”

You shake your head, putting her on speaker, and changing out of your pajamas into the dress. You only have a handful of tights in your closet, and not a single pair of over-knee socks, but a pair of tights and your favorite boots should do the trick.

“Trust me,” Claire says, “one look at you in that dress, you’re gonna turn that guy’s head.” She sniffles, and you wonder how much longer she is going to torture herself with that cat.

“I’m not so sure my looks are going to matter much,” you say.

“Most people say looks don’t matter to them, but unless you solely fall in love with another person’s mind, looks will always play a part in how we perceive someone.”

“No, I meant that quite literally.” You pull the dress over your head. “I’m only dressing up to feel good about myself ‘cause looks definitely don’t matter to him.”

“How can you be sure?” she retorts.

You slip into a fresh pair of tights, some socks, and a pair of biking shorts underneath. “Did I not mention Matt’s blind?”

Silence follows your sentence. A pregnant pause. You said it so nonchalantly, you didn’t think anything of it. And why would you? It’s a part of him. It’s not unimportant—definitely not, considering that life works differently for him than it does for you—but it’s also not the only thing about him.

“Blind?” Claire’s voice is slightly shaky when she asks.

You frown at your phone screen while slipping into your favorite boots. “Yes, blind,” you say. “Although we didn’t get around to discussing his condition. I mean, medically, there is probably nothing I haven’t seen or heard before. I just didn’t think of asking him, “Hey, how’d it happen? Is it complete blindness? Amaurosis? Congenital?” Even I know that it’s not appropriate to ask someone you just met about their medical history. It’s something he has to want to talk about, not the other way around. I don’t expect full disclosure from a stranger like I do from my patients. And we both know dating a patient would be highly unethical.”

“I—” she cuts herself off.

One look at the time tells you that you’re already running late. If you want to catch your bus, you have to leave in the next five minutes. You slide the last of your heart-shaped earrings into your earlobe.

“Listen, Claire, if that’s all you have to say, I should go. I can’t miss my bus,” you say.

Her behavior may strike you as odd, but your mind is currently preoccupied with other things. You can’t pay much mind to the tone of her voice or the pronunciation of her words, or there is a chance you might not make it to your coffee date after all because you will be stuck in another downward spiral of overthinking.

She exhales. “I—okay, yeah. I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Go. Have fun. Just… be careful.”

The way she says it makes the hairs on your arms stand up. “I will.” Your eyebrows still furrowed in a frown. “I’ll call you later.”

The line clicks when you hang up, trying not to let the absurdity of the situation get to you. You have plans, and you have to stick to them.

With a swift shake of your head, you touch up your hair and makeup, assuring that the discoloration of your bruised nose looks less severe than it is before you grab your coat, your bag, and your phone, and you make your way out.

You’re not overdressed, but you still feel like you’re standing out of the crowd when you get on the bus. The bus driver pays no attention to you, and neither do the other passengers, but somehow all eyes are still on you. Maybe you should have gone for a pair of jeans instead? A longer dress? A shorter dress? Less cleavage? Maybe something a little less tight? A sweater would have worked nicely too, you’re sure. What if you get off at the next stop, hurry back to change, and arrive a little later than planned?

Matt probably won’t be on time either. He wanted to meet up half an hour later. That sounds like the kind of guy who needs a little more time, someone who struggles to be on time. Or maybe he’s the complete opposite of the picture you painted of him in your mind, and Claire’s reaction has something to do with it. It makes no sense—it absolutely makes no fucking sense, and you should stop worrying about things that don’t make any fucking sense whatsoever, but you can’t. You are physically incapable of stopping the spiral on your own.

Time stops when you overthink, and it’s only when more people start leaving the bus that you realize you have long missed the chance to get out, run back home, and change. You’re almost in the city, almost where your favorite coffee shop is located that you suggested to him and he agreed on, and there is no going back from here.

You don’t know where to put your hands. They’re shaking. Your heart is beating out of your chest. The sweat in your pores is threatening to drip down your temples, it feels like, and you’re starting to worry whether or not he will be able to smell how nervous you are. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat because it has lodged itself between your esophagus and your larynx. It’s too much—too loud, too hot, too everything. You just want to turn around and run. You want to disappear into the ground, melt into a puddle, and stay there.

When you look up toward the entrance of the coffee shop, he’s standing there. He’s on time. No, he’s early. The clock on your phone reads 2:28 pm. You wouldn’t have expected him to be so punctual. It scares you.

Your brain starts to secrete even more cortisol—should you run or should you fight? Fight might be the wrong word to use. It is more of a 'should you or should you not face a situation your inner demons don't want to face' dilemma.

The sudden wave of anxiety that washes over you mixes with a strange sizzling of excitement and a certain warmth that starts to build in your core. The feeling is much stranger than what you’re used to, and it makes you vibrate. Or at least it feels like you’re vibrating. Levitating. Dying. Maybe you’re having a heart attack.

Don’t be ridiculous, you think to yourself. You’re a doctor. You’re not having a heart attack. What you’re sure of though is that, if you start breathing even shallower, you will get a panic attack.

He looks good. Too good. His suit fits him perfectly. You wonder how much he spends to get his suits tailored so that he can breathe and move around freely, and still look fucking dashing whenever he sets foot outside. For someone who does mostly pro-bono work, he knows how to dress himself.

Matt is standing away from the many people crossing the sidewalk. He’s supporting himself on his cane, his red round glasses framing his sharp features perfectly. He has the kind of cheeks you just want to squeeze, yet his jawline is sharp enough to cut yourself on it. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, so his stubble is a lot more prominent. The locks on his head seem so soft, and he keeps the rest of him clean, too—you wouldn’t expect anything less from someone who has heightened senses due to the lack of one of the most crucial ones.

The way his muscles tense under his suit catches your attention. Your breath hitches again, and this time not because you’re nervous and worried out of your mind. His biceps are straining against the sleeves of his coat, and it seems like his chiseled chest is about to pop the buttons of his dress shirt, but it still fits perfectly enough to keep every sliver of skin hidden from the world.

Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between you. “Matt?” your voice cracks when you call his name.

He tilts his head in your direction. It doesn’t even take him a full second, nor does he pretend that he has trouble making you out of the sea of people. He probably has done this quite a few times. You can’t blame him. He’s an attractive man.

You wonder what would happen if he was yours. Women would still want him, and you would have to have faith. You wouldn’t consider yourself an overly jealous person, but the thought of having to compete makes your stomach churn. You feel so far out of his league that it doesn’t even cross your mind that you would be his as much as he would be yours, and it is no relationship if you feel like you have to compete with other women.

A part of you believes that he is the kind of man to pay undivided attention to the person he cares about, but who is to say that you are worth his attention? Who’s to say that he wouldn’t run at the first chance to be with someone less damaged, someone who’s beautiful in a different way, and someone who can give him peace instead of whatever mess you can offer him.

But then he smiles at you, and your worries are momentarily forgotten.

“Liv, hi,” he says. You shudder at the smooth sound of his voice. His hand reaches out, but he misses your arm. A slight frown finds its way onto his face as if he’s thinking to himself, ‘I’m usually better than this.’

You take a step closer. He finally gets a hold of your forearm. “I hope it’s you I’m touching and not some stranger with similarly soft forearms.”

Soft. He just called you soft. You have never been called that before. The giggle that escapes you makes you wonder where you left your brain this morning.

The left side has turned itself off entirely, leaving the right side of your brain in charge. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. You’re already a mess. How are you supposed to survive the afternoon with him and only him? It feels like he’s staring right into your soul, which is impossible, but the glasses don’t give you insight into beautiful brown eyes, and that makes you wonder how he does it. How does he stare you down without actually staring you down?

You clear your throat. “No, it is me,” you answer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says again. The grin doesn’t leave his lips. He lets go of your arm, seemingly having oriented himself.

“Hi,” is all you can say. You miss his touch. It wasn’t even—or at least not mostly—because he wanted to touch you. He did it because there are so many people around you and he needed to know where exactly you stand. You can only imagine the anxiety that he’s feeling.

His smile turns into a smirk. “Hi.” He’s not making this easier on you. “How are you?” Matt finally puts you out of your misery.

What is the appropriate thing to answer? Good? Nervous? That you feel like you’re dying from a heart attack? Or that you miss his hand on your soft forearm?

“I’m–” you take a deep breath. “I’m good,” you say. “How’re you?”

He nods. “I’m alright, thank you.”

Your eyes flick down to the hand on his cane. He has his head tilted in your direction, his attention entirely on you. He adjusts his glasses. His smile turns into a softer expression of concern, and it makes your heart jump.

“You seem nervous,” he observes.

“I guess you could say that,” you admit. You can’t even stop the words before they tumble out of your mouth. “I don’t usually do this. You know, go on dates.”

“Really? Oh. I kind of figured men were lining up to get even a second of your attention, or trying to, at least.”

The blood rushes to your cheeks again. “Oh, I—No, they don’t do that.” Your head is spinning.

You always appear unapproachable, or so you’ve heard. You don’t know if it’s the way you look at people or the way you behave. Perhaps they get scared that they will burn themselves on your burning defenses. You wouldn’t put it past them. You have pushed what little advances people have made on you in the past two years away because you were scared of burning yourself, and you weren’t interested in trying to mend that. With Matt, that’s different.

If men were lining up to be with you, your first response would surely be to flee, and not because of your personal issues with the opposite sex. You would flee out of natural instinct.

Matt clears his throat. “I’m terrible at getting hints. If I’m making you uncomfortable or you think you made the wrong choice by coming here, I wouldn’t blame you for leaving,” he says.

He’s giving you a choice—an out. That alone makes the blood in your cheeks spread faster, and your palms start sweating. You don’t want to go.

“No,” you quickly shake your head. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Are you sure?”

You reach out, boldly so, and take his hand in yours. “Yes. Am I making you uncomfortable?” you ask.

Matt swallows thickly. His Adam’s apple bops as he tries to get rid of the lump in his throat. His fingers twitch when you wrap your own around his and place them against your forearm again. If you look close enough, you might even see a soft sheen of sweat on his forehead.

The silence persists for a few seconds. “No,” he answers then. “You simply have a way of, um...taking my breath away.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” He tightens his grip. His lips open, and he stammers for a moment before he finds his words again. “I find it refreshing. It’s not often I meet someone who can knock me off my feet, so…” Breaking off into a chuckle, Matt lowers his head to adjust his glasses once again.

The way he’s fidgeting with his fingers tells you that you’re not the only nervous one out of the two of you. Maybe the fact that you render him speechless affects him more than he lets on. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to be in control because he feels like he has to be or the world might end. You know that feeling all too well.

It would be so much easier if he wasn’t so charming, but if it were easy and he wasn’t so charming, you would still feel utterly alone in this life. New beginnings are supposed to feel better than an unhappy ending. New beginnings are supposed to offer a chance at happiness, and even though you are a little late with trying to find your way back to civilization after keeping yourself locked in a cage of someone else’s making for so long, there is a chance now. A chance that you have to take.

The easy way out would be to turn around and forget you ever met him, but Matt deserves better, and so do you. The easy way out would hurt too much.

You lick your lips absentmindedly. He sucks in a sharp breath. You’re a lot more sensitive to the behavior of others than a normal person would be. Is he attracted to you? Do you turn him on? Those are questions that make your head spin worse than it has been ever since you laid eyes on him.

“I’m sorry,” you break the awkward silence, your voice breathless. “It seems like the feeling is mutual.”

Your confidence is starting to build, convincing you that you can do this. And maybe you can. You’re not leaving him cold, that much is sure when you take a moment to analyze his body language.

His thumb brushes over your forearm. He seems so much more experienced than you, and he keeps his composure in a way you can’t relate to. You are dying inside, and the blood is pumping in your cheeks while leaving the rest of your body cold. Except for your very core; you can feel the heat starting to spread through your core, shooting between your legs just from the way he touches you.

You thought this would be an innocent coffee date—you were wrong. Your body is as desperate for a physical connection as your soul yearns for an emotional connection. It’s a strange combination of needs that hits you at once and with full force. And it is all directed at him. This guy you barely know but has turned your head every single time you have met him.

You’re fucked.

Matt smirks, as though he knows something that you do not. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmurs.

“The fact that you knocked me off my feet?” you ask dumbfounded. You’re glad he can’t see your face because that would be utterly embarrassing.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “that.”

You want to scream, 'God, you’re hot,' but you would rather not embarrass yourself in front of him like that. His smirk makes it hard to focus, but if you don’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon on the sidewalk, staring at him while he holds onto your forearm, one of you has to start moving.

“Do you want to go inside?” you ask.

“Yeah. Lead the way,” he says.

You gently slide his hand from your forearm into your own. You wish you could see his eyes right now. Are those beautiful hazel eyes with emerald specks in them sparkling? You saw how expressive they were when you patched him up. They were unfocused and pained, but they also reminded you of an array of stars. It’s probably unintentional, but his eyes give away how he’s feeling at any given time, and that, to you, is one of the most beautiful qualities he could possess because it means that he’s real. He can’t lie because his eyes would give them away.

His glasses don’t make Matt hard to read, but they sure make you miss the universe you got to stare into a few days ago. It felt like a privilege.

He keeps his cane pressed tightly to his chest, using the tip to check the small radius around him while he holds on tightly to your hand, trusting you to guide him where he needs to go without putting him at risk.

“Door,” you tell him as you make your way into the café. You hold it open, and he uses his cane to make sure he doesn’t accidentally bump into you or the doorframe.

Just as you’re about to enter, a couple comes at you. You twirl around, placing a hand on his waist and pulling him a bit closer to you before someone can bump into him. He raises his eyebrows.

“Oh,” he exclaims when the couple apologizes for not looking, and he tilts his way back in your direction, Your hands are still on his waist, standing closer to you than ever before. His cheeks flush. Got him. “Thank you,” he stammers, but not without letting out a chuckle that resembles a small giggle.

Your heart melts, and you damn Matt Murdock for not only being a walking wet dream but for being so kindhearted and adorable. And why does he smell so good?

“No problem,” you answer breathlessly.

“It helps that one of us isn’t blind, huh?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “It’s a big responsibility if you’re seeing for two, so I try to take it seriously.”

His giggle turns into a laugh that comes deep from his chest, but it still sounds like a soft symphony you might hear playing on a spring day. “Yeah,” Matt says, “You’re taking it very seriously.”

“I’d call myself your knight in shining armor, but I believe that comparison is outdated and wrong since you don’t need saving.”

“I wouldn't mind being saved by you.”

You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a startled breath. “Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

He smirks. “I wouldn’t get anything out of making you blush, but I do enjoy hearing the smile in your voice whenever I compliment you. So, maybe that’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh.”

“Your smile sounds nice. Beautiful. It’s how I, uh, see you. And you’re calm. I—the world is often too loud, you know, and your voice is a welcome distraction from all the, uh, noise. Helps me relax. If you know what I mean.”

If he keeps talking, you are sure that you will pull him closer by his waist and kiss him. You can’t remember the last time you have felt a need quite like this one. And you have never wanted to kiss another human being more than him. Why? Just because he’s nice to you? No. He’s not just nice to you. You probably would have run by now if he were just nice to you.

Matt is genuine, which seems to be his personality trait, and it makes you feel somewhat important again. Like you’re worthy of whatever it is he’s giving you, not constant pain and suffering. It’s strange and new, and it is still terrifying in a way, but once you let it happen, it’s a lot more gentle on your soul.

“Fuck me,” you curse under your breath. “We haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No.”

“So, does that mean I can still buy you a coffee?”

“Now more than ever,” you blurt the first sentence that comes to mind. You look at him as if he is a rare species, and you’re painfully aware of that.

Can he read your mind? Whenever you look at him, it seems like he knows just what you’re going through. He tries to hide it, but it’s almost as if he’s already inside of you. Not in the way you want him to but in a way that makes you feel vulnerable, but you still would surrender all of you to him if he just asked.

Your hands slip from his waist.

“After you,” he says, grabbing a hold of your arm again.

“Right,” you mutter. “After me.”

The line isn’t long. You get behind a few other people, Matt’s hand still tightly clasping your bicep.

“I just realized that they don’t have a Braille option for the menu.” Your eyes dart around the room, but the only visible menu is the one hanging above the counter.

You’ve been here more times than you can count, but you never actively paid attention to how accessible it all is—which is not at all.

Matt chuckles beside you, his breath tickling your ear. “Read it to me,” he says. His voice is soft, quiet, and kept low so only you can hear him.

You shiver. Your lips suddenly feel drier than the desert. You won’t survive this day, you’re sure. He’s going to kill you.

“R-read it to you?” you stammer as if it is such an outlandish request. It isn’t. You just can’t process it properly, not when he’s so close to you and he smells like he does.

He doesn’t have a strong, overwhelming scent. The cologne he’s wearing only has a slight whiff of sandalwood and nature, but it’s nothing too overwhelming. Of course, he must have a sensitive sense of smell as well. He probably uses scentless soap and shampoo, and the cologne he uses might even be the only scent he can stand. What you smell on him must be his natural scent. Clean, soft, warm—you’re obsessed with it. You’re addicted to it.

Matt nods again. “Yeah, read it to me,” he repeats.

“Okay–” you take a deep breath, and you begin to recite the options you already know by heart. Coffee, cold drinks, tea, lunch options, and snacks.

He listens intently to what you have to say. “I think I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Did you decide that now or did you know that from the beginning?”

“I may have already known,” he says with a smirk.

“Then why did you ask me to read it to you?”

“I like listening to your voice.”

When you suck in a sharp breath this time, you manage to conceal it better. “That’s cheesy,” you retort, trying to match the tone of his voice but failing miserably. Flirting over the phone proves to be much easier than in person, especially with a man like him.

“Is it still cheesy if it’s the truth?” Matt asks.

You look at him, staring at your reflection in his glasses, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “The truth can be cheesy.”

“That’s true, but I made you smile. I’d consider my cheesiness successful.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

He chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t. Can’t deny it makes me feel good though.”

You exhale again, even more shaky than the last time. All you can see is yourself in his reflection. Before you can answer, the couple in front of you finishes their order and moves on to the other end of the counter, allowing you to step forward.

“Hi,” you say to the barista behind the counter. “Could I get two regular lattes and two muffins, please?”

Matt smirks beside you, not at all fazed by your ignorance of his antics. If anything, it spurs him on further, and he tightens his grip on your arm. Deep down, you know that he is doing it on purpose, but at the first sign of you being uncomfortable, there is no doubt in your mind that he will stop. But you’re not uncomfortable; you’re merely flustered beyond relief. To him, that’s a good sign because it means that you’re in this and not with one foot out the door—and you wouldn’t want to be, anyway, which is much scarier than the prospect of turning around and remaining alone for the rest of your life.

A bit of fear goes a long way, but there are still walls that he has to break through. Walls you won’t let him through so easily, but you also know you can’t keep him at an arm’s length forever. Eventually, the truth will come out, and you’re not quite sure how to deal with that revelation before your date has even taken off.

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