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zeldasnotes · 2 months

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 33

masterlist

• People with Sun in the 8th house or aspecting Pluto might have been saved from situations because of their fathers name. For example might be threathened then the people find who your father is and apologizes.

• If you ask someone whats the worst thing someone ever said to them it will probably be something related to their Chiron placement. Because A when people touch our Chiron wound we remember it forever and B for some damn reason people seem to always touch where you have your Chiron wound bc its kinda obvious to others.

• If you have 10th house placements you have a trademark after your name, whatever you do you easily become known for it. People want to put a label on you and the themes of the planet you have there is the label thats most easily put. So when you have 10th house planets its extra important to think before you act.

• If you have Lilith conjunct North Node you need to learn to do your own thing. Ive seen people with this who didnt reach their potential until they refused to stop trying to fit in and be ”normal” . You are a class of your own. People will respond to you differently when you act like Lilith. Example: A rapper in my country have this placement in Virgo and was treated bad by other rappers bc of a beef he had on the streets and bla bla. Anyways he knew he wouldnt get collabs bc of this so he made it ”his” thing to never have a feature on his songs and to never do interviews and be on other rappers tracks. After this people started respecting him more. He used his inability to fit in to make himself look even better.

• Venus/Neptune involve their love interest in their art. A lot of rappers with this might want to have their partner on their albumcover, in their music video, paint their partner etc. Dating a man with this placement feels like being his muse.

• Be careful when you have Venus in Leo in the Solar Return Chart because this one can really make you want to SPLURGE. Especially clothes, bags and stuff that makes you look good. 💰🛒🛍️💸

• Talking to someone with a Mercury/Pluto or Mercury/Nessus placement can feel like being interrogated. Constant checking if you are lying, asking extra questions to see if you change your story, detailed questions to see if your story is true. Can be very exhausting to be around bc of this (sorry).

• Every Aquarius Rising Ive met looked better in person than on pictures. There is a striking quality that the camera have a hard time capturing. Same with Virgo and Pisces Rising.

• People with Jupiter conjunct personal planets are funnier when they are not trying than when they try to be funny.

• Nanisca the role played by Viola Davis in the movie ”Woman King” reminds me of Sun conjunct Lilith.

• People with Ceres(1) conjunct personal planets seem to not like adornment.

• Aura(1488) conjunct Mercury might come across as sneaky.

• Venus in the 8th house or Venus aspecting Pluto attracts people who would normally not want them which is why they need to be extra careful. They might be super tall and attract someone who usually only go for short people or vice versa. But because of the intense magnetism that having a plutonian venus gives everyone wants a taste of you no matter if they really WANT you or not. Be wary of who you share your energy with.

• Venus Square MC might feel like their looks and social skills doesnt match the career they want or how they want the public to see them.

• Juno(3) or Venus Square Mars are the kind of people to have a huge difference in taste when it comes to who they want to sleep with and who they see as relationship material.

• If you have Lilith in the 7th house or Lilith conjunct Venus your ex's new partners might become obsessed with you or you become obsessed with your partners ex's.

• Dejanira(157) conjunct Ascendant is probably the scariest synastry aspect Ive ever experienced. Experienced it 2 times and both times I was Ascendant and he was Dejanira. Very scary attacks. I can even look at pictures of these people.

• Mars conjunct MC can mean a lot of people are scared of you. A very intimidating placement. In a mans chart it makes other men look up to him. Women with this placement seem too struggle with this placement a lot tho since people are more likely to want to challenge a woman who comes across as intimidating.

• Scorpio Moons seem to be very fascinated with psychopaths.

• Sag Moons might have had extremely carefree parents. Thats why these people can be so good on their own, they raised themselves. But its also why they flee from issues because they were never forced to stay and solve stuff like in a normal family.

• Cancer Risings can be really intimidating, especially the eyes. Ive mistaken so many Cancer Risings for being Scorpio Risings.

• Populus(8647) conjunct Mercury might be more popular among younger people.

• Lilith in a womans chart seem to show what archetype she finds empowering and might even want to be and in a mans chart an archetype he finds fascinating. Ex. Lilith 2nd/8th: the golddigger femme fatale, black widow. Lilith 4th house: The family matriarch, Evil Stepmom. Lilith 10th house: The boss, the businesswoman, cold bitch. Lilith 7th house: The homewrecker, femme fatale, beauty queen, homecoming queen, Mr steal yo girl. (Not always ofc and mostly this goes for when you are underdeveloped)

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

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bratzforchris · 12 days

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Goldfish

Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?

Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!

Word Count: Just over 2k

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!

Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”, “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort.

Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits.

The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face.

“How are you feeling, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest.

“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”

That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself.

The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate.

A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness.

“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.

“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back.

The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.

“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”

Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better.

“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”

Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow.

“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter.

Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled.

“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”

For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”

“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”

“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup.

“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything.

At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee.

“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”

Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered.

You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”

Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade.

“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined.

“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?”

Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red.

The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted.

A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”

You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door.

“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”

The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”

You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again.

“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.

He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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eddieshellfxre · 2 years

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Sugar Me

Eddie Munson x Fem! reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Eddie is your best friend and you tell him your into choking

content: 18+ unprotected PIV sex, masturbation, creampie, choking, swearing, smut, slut calling

a/n ive had this idea for a while, for some reason best friend Eddie always gets in a special way. I hope yall like it.

reblog and like if you do ♡

masterlist

In your room Eddie is helping you clean up for the first time in his life. He doesnt really know what hes doing, hes just gathering clothes and putting near your laundry basket

“you do realise you can open the basket and chuck the clothes inside right?” you ask placing your hands on your hips raising a brow “ugh” you sigh “just go sit down ill do it” you say as you command him to sit on a chair at your desk and he was more than happy to do so. He was your best friend but that boy cant do anything to save his life

You feel his gaze watching you bend over and picking up all the clothes he left on the floor. You pick a armful of it and chuck in the basket, letting a pair of panties fall out of your arms, Eddie quickly stands up and grabs it and hands it over to you hanging by his pointer finger

“you left these out” he says with a smirk on his face. You feel heat radiate from your cheeks and it makes Eddie laugh “ohhhh cmon dont go shy on me just because i picked up your … dirty underwear” he says while looking at you up and down the entire time, his breathing becomes shaky at his last words and his lips turn into a cocky smile, he turns his back and makes his way to the chair he previously was sat on.

You sit on the edge of your bed, tired from cleaning your room and high out of your mind because youve been smoking with eddie the entire time and talking about random things until the conversation gets kinda heated with you talking about various kinks, its not something out of the ordinary with you guys, it happened very frequent because you were so comfortable with each other

“but have you ever been choked? how do you know you like it so much?” he questions you “ive seen the guys you dated and NONE of them seem like the bdsm type”

“i know i like it because ive done it myself you idiot” Eddie raises an eyebrow in interest, forming a smile he reajusts himself on the chair

“wait so youre telling me…. you’ve choked yourself? like… when you—“

“Gosh Eddie, ive choked myself while getting off. if no one will do it for me might as well do it myself” you scoff placing the blunt between your lips. Eddie looks at you surprised to see this side of you, he thought he knew everything about you but this took him by surprise “dont look at me like that Eddie, i bet you have kinks of your own that would make me squirm”

“oh this didnt make me squirm baby, it made me curious as fuck” he says taking the blunt away from you. its a love hate feeling when he calls you baby, its not often but he does it so out of the blue it takes you by surprise each time

you notice how he cant keep still, like something is bothering him during the conversation

“is everything alright Ed? you seem like you wanna say something but wont” you question as you dangle your legs at the end of the bed while you rest yourself on your arms, making your shirt rise up just enough to show your lower belly. Eddie keeps almost eye fucking you the whole time always moving in his chair. You notice he has never looked at you like this way, you cant help but feel nervous at this

“cmon i know you wanna ask me something just do it already, it cant be worst than me telling you i choke myself when i get off” you laugh

“wha-what do you think about when you touch yourself” his eyes pierce you to the bed and you feel like you cant move.

“it depends” you say rubbing your legs against each other

you wanted to just tell him hes what you think about late at night alone in your room. he cant keep his eyes off you as you make small sensual moves on the bed bitting your lip while looking at him, you do it on purpose, you wanna see what kind of reaction you could get off him. you notice he has a tight hold on his crotch and lightbulb lights up in your head making you jump of the bed walking over to the chair that hes sitting on, resting your hands on his thighs you come closer to his ear and whisper “i like thinking about you Eddie” you take his earlobe between your teeth and tug at it slightly, hips buck in his seat and his knuckles turn white from how hard hes gripping onto the arm rest of the chair, you let out a laugh and stand up in front of him. one hand still holding onto his crotch you feel his other hand trail up your thigh stopping at your ass

“how about you show me exactly what it is that you do when you think about me” he squeezes your ass tight in his palm.

Eddie stands up, youre now facing each other with very little space between you, you feel his hands grabbing at your waist pulling you in closer, so close you feel his raging boner inside his jeans, just the feeling of his bulge is enough to make you feel like youre already dripping. You grab him by the colar of his Hellfire shirt and pull him towards the bed. The back of your legs touch the end of your bed and you climb on laying down, spreading your legs open.

Eddie understands what your doing and tried to follow you onto the bed, you stop him placing a foot on his chest

“uh uh! you said show you” you tusk keeping him at a distance. he looks at you in dispair, he wants to touch you and make you feel good.

You spread your legs open placing your hand down your shorts and panties, you moan at your touch as you rub small circles around your clit. “hmmmmm, feels so good” you throw your head back in pleasure as you slide your fingers through your slit gathering your wetness. You notice how Eddie is looking at you, in need to touch you.

You slowly remove your shorts and your panties with it, leaving Eddie front and center to your private show

“fuckkkk— youre killing me y/n” he falls onto his knees in front of you.

You resume your hand’s position at your slit unserting your middle and ring finger inside you and pulling it out rubbing at your bud “Ohhh Eddie” you moan “it feels so good baby” your words feel like fire to him, you look him in the eye as your insert your fingers in and out of you again and again never breaking your eye contact. You bring your other hand up to your throat starting squeezing it but you feel Eddie’s hand on top of yours

“let me take over, please i beg you baby! i cant take it anymore” Eddie hovers over you, removing your hand from your hole, you groan at the empty feeling “shhh baby, let me take care of you” you feel Eddie’s lips on your neck, slowly making a trail of kisses down to your belly looking up at you the whole way down.

Hes so sexy, the way his hand is placed at your chest caressing your left tit playing with your nipple between his fingers. Placing wet kisses on your inner thigh coming closer to your heat, making you grind your hips against the bed.

Eddie slowly teases you by blowing air into your pussy, making you shiver and groan at the same time

“quit teasing me Eds, and fuck me already”

“easy there baby, ive waited long enough to see you like this, i wanna take my fucking time on you” he says sliding a finger up and down your slit, he smirks and he watches you arch your back in pleasure and eager to feel him inside you.

The sudden touch of his tongue at your clit sends a shock through your body making you moan loudly grabbing at his hair and tugging it ever so slightly.

“fuuuuck Eddie, you’re so good at this” you manage to let out almost at a whisper

“and youre fucking hot, you know that?” he questions you as he inserts two fingers in you, continuing to play with your clit with his tongue.

Everytime his tongue touches the right spot his fingers curl up inside you making you clench around him.

“oohhhh you like that dont you?” you nod and keep pulling at his hair grinding your hips close to his face “imma need words baby” he laughs as he continues to tease you

“yes Eddie, oh god yes! dont stop i-im almost there” you whimper almost reaching your orgasm. Eddie continues to play with your clit sucking on it until finally you clench around his fingers one last time. Eddie removes his fingers from inside you bringing them to his mouth sucking them clean

“you.taste.soooooo.good” he pauses in between words as he sucks your fluids off him. You pull him up by his shirt up to your face kissing him, alowing yourself to taste you on him.

“let me make it up to you” you whisper as you try to lay him down on his back

“no no baby” he stops you “i wanna cum in you and if you wrap that pretty little mouth around my cock i wont last” he laughs kissing your neck. he unbuttons his jeans pulling them down far enough to let his dick spring free. You gasp at the size grabbing it with your hand giving it a few strokes and lining it up with your entrance. He replaces your hand with his, teasing your hole with his head, you squirm under him begging for him to go in you.

“Edddieeee” you cry

“Eddiiieeeee please fuck me!! Oh Eddie you’re soo good” he mocks you continuing to tease you

“never said you were good big boy! dont put words in my mou-“ he cuts you off by slamming his cock inside you, you let out a load moan making his head fall in your neck, his heavy breathing on you turn you on even more. He finds a steady pace perfect to please both you and him

“i-i Eddie” you cry, wanting to form a sentence but hes hitting it way too good for you to form one “fuck!! choke me!” Your words make him slam harder into you as you feel his hand at your throat squeezing it.

He’s scared to hurt you but hes hungry for you at the same time

“you take me so well baby. you like it when daddy chokes you? uh? you like being treated like a little slut dont you? fuck, you and your tight little pussy are so good” he continues to have a grip at your throat and you start to close your eyes in pleasure, you never want this feeling to end. “i need you to look at me baby, i wanna see your face when you cum”

You feel a preassure on your lower belly starting to form and feel yourself clenching around his cock

“fuck do that again” he begs and you do as so! You slide your hand down to your clit rubbing it in circles as he continues to go in and out of you “fuck baby— keep going we’re almost there” you rub yourself looking for your orgasm reaching it quickly after, same with Eddie once he feels you coming on his dick. He slows down his pace slowly removing himself off you. He sits infront of you watching his cum drip off your pussy, a sight he now claimed to be his favorite in the world.

“you look so beautiful right now y/n” He says reaching with two fingers at your entrance collecting the mixure of both of you and bringing up to your mouth “open up that pretty mouth of yours” he closes his eyes in pleasure as you take his fingers in your mouth sucking the cum of them “fuck youre good” he says under his breath shaking his head.

He lays down next to you, coming down from his high, noticing the handprint he has left on your throat, making him worried he hurt you he asks if youre alright

“alright? that was the best sex i ever had in my life Eddie. Finally someone with a firm hand” you laugh touching your neck “it has your handprint on it doesnt it?” you ask proudly. Eddie nods in confusion at your exicitement

“i didnt mean to leave a mark y/n sorry”

“oh please im glad you did! fuck i hope it stays there for weeks”

Your words take Eddie by surprise, he pulls you in by your waist cupping your face and bringing it closer to his

“youre fucking perfect for me” he says kissing you softly breaking away right after to ask you “you ready for round two?”

#eddie munson #stranger things eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunson #eddiestrangerthings #stranger things #st4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson kink

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magiccath · 5 months

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Worst Nightmare

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the Doctor is trapped in an alien-induced nightmare, and it's up to reader to save him

a gift for my friend @internet-stranger-says-hi

The Doctor woke up in an unfamiliar bed, panting. He looked around the room, anxiety building within him at his surroundings. He was in a hospital room. He hated hospitals, they gave him the creeps. His eyes searched the room for you, darting around at a shocking speed. It quickly became apparent that you weren’t in the room with him. Where were you? He needed to find you, and quick.

He noticed a small IV strapped to his arm and ripped it out with haste, not bothering to check the damage in his haste. As quick as he could, he threw the bedsheets off, immediately rushing to the door. A sudden tension built within him, harboring a desperate need to find you. He needed you, he always did.

He threw the door open and speed walked out into the hall. As he strode he ran his hands through his hair anxiously, wracking his brain for any memory that might clue him into his current situation. The issue was, he couldn’t remember a single thing. Where he was, why he was there, and most importantly, where you were. The questions piled up, fueling the anxious thoughts within the Time Lord.

He really, truly hated hospitals. He told Rose as much when they visited New-New York. Even the fun little gift shops couldn’t ease the discomfort that they brought him. The irony wasn’t lost on him. His name itself implied hospitals (or at least some kind of medical context), but he just couldn’t do it.

The hallways seemed to go on forever, an endless maze of off-white walls. The pain in his head was accentuated by the bright fluorescent lights, creating a blinding blur around his vision. The putrid smell of disinfectant hung in the air, making his stomach churn.

He tried to outrun the sinking feeling, searching desperately for an exit sign. He ran down hallway after hallway, increasingly desperate for a way out. It never seemed to end, an infinite labyrinth of his nightmares. He called out your name desperately, hoping you were somewhere in the hospital. He received no response, only the unsettling buzz of the lights above his head. It was excruciating.

He began to wonder if he was nothing more than a mouse trapped in a complex maze set up to find the block of cheese. In the end, he didn’t really care if it was a trap, he needed to find you.

He desperately called out your name again, more a plea than anything else. The more he ran through the hospital, the more he was convinced he was truly lost. Every shadow caught his eye, giving him false hope that you were there.

He needed you. So much more than he would ever admit to himself, especially more than he would ever admit to you. Without you, he was scared and lost, and worst of all, he was cruel. He never wanted to be those things. He never wanted to be without you.

He felt tears pickling his eyes, but he refused to cry. He had to shove his own feelings down and find his way out. He didn’t have time to dwell on the pain and fear boiling within him, no matter how much it hurt.

He gathered himself and continued on, rushing through the endless halls. He made a mental map of where he was going, trying to ensure that he didn’t run about in circles. He noted the turns, the signs, and the labeled doors. It all seemed futile, resulting in him still running in what felt like circles.

After what felt like multiple gruesome hours, he ran into you. Your face felt like home, and he couldn’t help but throw his arms around you. He held you tightly against him. He dropped his head to your shoulder, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. From here, he could breathe in your calming scent. He never wanted to move, just wanted to stay here in your arms.

Unfortunately, his reprieve was brief, as you quickly pulled away from him. The warmth of your embrace was quickly replaced by a harsh slap to the face.

“You left me!” You cried - fury etched into your features.

“I lost you!” He argued, using his hand to cover the spot you slapped him. He didn’t understand what was happening, and that upset him. He always knew what was going on.

“You did not,” you huffed, “you left me all alone!”

“I didn’t, I would never do that,” the Doctor pleaded, obviously upset. He truly wouldn't. He needed you, he wanted you.

“I cannot believe you,” you sneered, anger boiling. “I follow you all this time, and the minute I stop being of help you dump me.”

“Please-”

“You’re an absolute monster, y’know,” you spat. The Doctor didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t sure he could say anything.

“The things you have done are completely unforgivable, and I’m tired of pretending they aren’t! You do way more harm than good.”

The Doctor felt tears building in his eyes again, and there was little he could do to stop them. Against his will, they started to fall. You were hitting him in his most vulnerable spots, and it was excruciating. You knew his insecurities better than anyone, and here you were exploiting them.

“You’re arrogant, rude, and a whole new level of selfish,” you continued. The Doctor shook his head like the action might stop your words.

“You don’t deserve to be loved,” you laughed, the sound more cruel than musical like it normally was. The Doctor didn’t want to hear anymore, but that didn’t stop you.

“I really, truly, wholeheartedly, despise you.”

That was the final hit, he was done for. Everything else became so insignificant. His ears started ringing, a pressure that muted everything around him. He knew you were still talking, still yelling at him, but he couldn’t seem to hear it. Perhaps it was shock. Perhaps it was heartbreak. Perhaps he was so upset he was regenerating.

“Doctor!” your voice came through his head clearly. But that’s not what your mouth was saying. It was almost as if he had the subtitles on for the wrong show.

“Doctor!” But there it was again, clear as day, your voice calling him, pulling him out of the dark.

His vision blurred, and the scene in front of him faded away into nothingness. He had been violently ripped awake, forcing him back into the present. He sprang upwards, nearly knocking you over in the process. His breaths came in short, painful pants. He felt like his lungs were on fire, and the room around him was blurry and unfocused.

“Doctor!” you cheered a third time, throwing yourself into his arms. He stiffened at the touch, still wary and hurt from your words. What had previously been a comforting action felt more like a stab to the gut.

You pulled away gently, confused by his demeanor. He usually softened at your touch.

“Doctor?” you asked softer, worry clouding your eyes. What had happened to him?

“Where am I?” He gasped, terrified. He felt a lightness in his head like he could pass out at any moment. His eyes darted around the room again, unsure if this was another horrible dream.

Footsteps thundered down the hall, signaling that the aliens who kidnapped the Doctor were near. You supposed it was up to you to get the two of you out of this. A sudden urgency fueled you, and you sprang into action.

“Oh dear,” you rambled, “we need to get you back to the TARDIS, now,” you hauled the Doctor upwards as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

The Doctor was a lot heavier than he looked. You supposed it was due to his impressive height. Nonetheless, he was heavy enough that you had a bit of trouble dragging him back to the ship in a timely manner. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your body, motivating you to move faster.

You lugged the Doctor through the heavy wooden doors before slamming them shut. You fumbled with the lock on the door, your hands shaking. You finally got it closed and breathed a sigh of relief. You slumped back against the doors with another exhausted sigh. You were safe behind the TARDIS doors, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. What if the aliens figured out how to get into the ship? What were you going to do then? The Doctor was the one who got you out of sticky situations like this.

You moved over to where the Doctor lay on the floor and started tapping his cheek, hoping to prod him awake. You needed him to get you to safety. You had done as much as you could, unfortunately, it was up to him now. Frustrated and groggy, he complied, awakening with a groan.

“Doctor,” you whispered, urgently. All you got was a grumble in response. “We need to get out of here,” you urged, eyes darting between him and the door.

He noted the anxiety in your voice and demeanor, the events of the past few hours rushing back to him. He needed to get you out of here.

Begrudgingly, the Doctor pulled himself upright, dragging his hands over his face. Suddenly, a burst of energy flooded him, and he was on his feet. You watched flabbergasted as he ran about the ship, flicking switches, and pressing buttons.

“Doctor?” You asked with a laugh. This wasn’t unusual for him, which was a good sign. He had boundless amounts of energy at all times.

“Yes?”

“Are you ok?”

“Never been better,” he said, but his inflection was off, “thank you.”

You presumed he was thanking you for rescuing him, something he never did. You were still sitting on the floor, legs spread out like a child. You frowned at the ground, wondering what you had done wrong. You racked your brain for something that might explain his upset but came up with nothing.

You pulled yourself up from the floor, confused. You watched the Doctor pilot the TARDIS, the whole time completely ignoring you.

“Where are we going?” you asked, leaning against the console. He didn’t respond and moved away from you. The ship suddenly felt incredibly cold to you. You rubbed your arms subconsciously, trying to comfort yourself.

The TARDIS landed with its usual thump, causing you to wobble slightly on your feet. You tried to catch the Doctor’s eye, but he evaded you.

“Home,” he said matter of factly, gesturing to the doors. His eyes remained trained on the console, refusing to look at you. Was he dismissing you?

“I didn’t ask to go home.”

“You don’t have to stay here.”

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked, hurt. Maybe he was finally done with you.

“You don’t have to spend time with someone you hate.”

“Do you seriously think that?” you asked, your voice pain-ridden. You had just risked your life to save him. You loved the Doctor, how could he not see that?

“You said it yourself,” he shook his head.

“When?”

“Earlier, when you found me in the hospital,” he still refused to look at you.

“What are you talking about?”

“You made it very clear that I was an unforgivable monster and you truly hated me,” The Doctor finally looked at you, and his gaze felt like daggers.

You scrunched your eyes closed, the pieces finally falling together. Slowly, you opened your eyes, “You got kidnapped by aliens,” you explained simply, “they put you in a dream-induced state and showed you your worst nightmare.”

“What?” The Doctor asked, eyes wide in confusion.

“None of it was real,” you said, completely earnestly.

“I could never hate you. Ever,” you pleaded, “and you are far from a monster.”

The Doctor shook his head, trying to make sense of it all.

“Really,” you said, forcing him to look you in the eye. He needed to see you weren’t lying. He needed to see how much you meant to him. That you couldn’t look at him and feel anything but love.

He moved his gaze away from you, staring at the TARDIS console, brow furrowed. You desperately wanted to push your finger between his eyebrows to smooth the worry wrinkle.

“I spent so long not allowing myself love,” he whispered, so light you almost didn’t hear him. “It’s just safer that way,” you didn’t understand why he was telling you this, but you didn’t dare interrupt him.

“And then I met you,” he lifted his head slowly to meet your eyes. It was easy to forget how old he was, how much he had seen. That was until you looked into his eyes. Behind them was so much time and pain that it was almost impossible to look away sometimes.

“As much as I tried to fight it,” he continued, “There was no stopping my feelings for you.”

You honestly didn’t know what to say. You would never have expected him to say these things, to feel this way. A part of you felt the same and more, but you had always thought it wasn’t a possibility.

“Doctor,” was all you could manage to get out.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he blurted out, already turning away. You caught his face with your hand, gently turning him back to you.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my stupid human life,” you whispered, staring deep into his eyes.

“What?” He gasped like the information shocked him.

“I love your sticky-uppy hair,” you said, running your fingers through his locks lightly. “I love your freckles,” you ghosted your fingers around his nose and cheeks next, “I love the smile you get when you figure something out. I love your mind and the wild things it comes up with,” you allowed your hands to rest against his face again. “I love how kind you are, and how deeply you care. I love everything about you, every part of you.”

Somehow you had managed to say exactly what the Doctor needed to hear. Your gentle words and touch melted him to the core.

“Really?” He whispered, still terrified it wasn’t real. He couldn’t remember the last time that someone had said they loved him, let alone listed off a bunch of reasons why.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. Stupid Time Lord.

“Really,” you whispered back, leaning in closer to him.

He smiled lightly and rested his forehead against your own, bringing you closer to him. You nuzzled your nose against his gently. Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling a new kind of comfort with the close proximity. After a minute the Doctor slowly closed the last little space between you, finally connecting his lips with yours.

The Doctor was so much better at kissing than you had ever imagined. It put every single kiss to shame, even those on the telly. It was almost as if he was made for you. A perfect fit.

You smiled against his lips, feeling more at home than you ever had in your life. Yes, you could get quite used to this.

#10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #david tennant #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff

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anewstartrekfan · 1 year

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Why I like Kirk so much and why I think he didn’t resonate as much with general audiences as Spock did

I think what Gene Roddenberry and the rest of the tos crew underestimated is how powerful knowledge of a character can be when they thought Kirk would be popular over Spock. As season 1 progresses while you do get information about both Kirk and Spock peppered through out, how much and how it’s conveyed is important.

Spock is Stoic yes, but surprisingly he talks about his past and what it means to be Vulcan a lot. And other characters comment on Vulcans too like McCoy describing where a Vulcan heart is. Even moving onto season 2, when Spock truly, desperately, does not want to explain what Pon Farr is or that Sarek is his father, he admits these things under pressure. And all of this information is what’s gives the audience an idea of what informs his actions.

Jim Kirk however, despite being very outgoing and charismatic, very rarely talks about himself. With few exceptions, every time you do learn something about his past it’s because someone else explains it or points it out. You’ve got where no man has gone before where Gary talked about their academy days, The naked time while Spock talked about his regrets, Kirk vents that he wants a personal connection and then is literally the only person who is able to will the virus to stop effecting him (on his own I mean) just long enough for McCoy to give him the cure.

The Android copy of Kirk tells us about Kirk’s brother Sam, in Conscience of the king literally everyone except Kirk explains his tragic tarsus iv backstory, we never find out who the Ruth girl is in shore leave, and it’s Bones that brings up Sam lives on Deneva. Even in season 2 in the worst episode ever, the deadly years, when Kirk is in a room alone with his ex fiancé, she explains their history. Not Kirk.

This man is allergic to talking about himself I love it.

Edit: Whenever Jim does even sorta talk about his past, it’s always in the context of what the other people he’s talking to know about it. Take Tarsus IV. Spock tells Jim that he checked the same library records. So when Jim finally opens up at the end of the conversation, it’s information Spock and Bones already know. “I saw him [Kodos] once, 20 years ago.” Then about 10 minutes later when he’s talking with Kodos and trying to get proof, he gives Kodos a copy of the speech Jim heard him read 20 years ago. Saying that he memorized the words. Again, these are things only the two of them would know about. It’s not something Jim exclusively went through.

Then later in Obsession when Jim is talking about his prior experience with the fog, everything he references was in the report he made after the Farragut disaster that he knows Spock and Bones read. There is no new information he reveals about what happened to him or even how he felt about it. Bones has to be the one to say Jim was wrecked with guilt because at the end of the day, Jim will never willingly talk about his past without knowing or thinking the other person he’s talking to has the same information. He will not reveal anything new 95% of the time.

Anyway back to the old blog.

While I’d argue conscience of the king does most of the work you would ever need to explain why Kirk is the way he is, the fact is we don’t learn much about his past through him. Instead it’s Kirk’s actions that inform our understanding of him. Which on some level I like a lot. It’s rare that a tv series doesn’t lean heavily into some tragic backstory explaining why a character acts the way they do. But it isn’t just he doesn’t have multiple tragic backstories. It’s what we know nothing about his past in general. Ffs we didn’t learn he grew up in Iowa until Star Trek IV. It might not even be Riverside! That town just claimed it for themselves and everyone rolled with it.

Edit: SNW did confirm after almost 40 years that riverside is Kirk’s birthplace.

The audience never truly closes the gap with Kirk because he never willingly opens up (at least where I am in the show idk maybe the movies change this) So comparatively Spock just had more going on.

#james t kirk #star trek tos #star trek #Star Trek rambles #captain kirk #star trek meta #Kirk analysis #star trek analysis

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1d1195 · 6 months

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Love and Dryer Sheets IV

Read the rest here: Love and Dryer Sheets

~4.2k words

Warnings: emotional cheating, pining, angst, maybe some fluff if you squint

Now I know I have a heart…because it’s breaking.

Ava texted Harry to let him know she made it to the restaurant. She even apologized about the thing with her keys. There was even a heart emoji. Harry was spending the time she was out, face down on the sofa, trying not to scream. But it felt like he needed to. In fact, it felt like he needed to lay face down in traffic but obviously he couldn’t actually do that.

Harry’s conscience decided now was the time to give up on him. Maybe the little voice thought Harry was just simply too stupid to deal with right now. What was he even supposed to do? The voice in his head all but told him exactly what would happen. It tried to warn him. It was completely, totally Harry’s fault for fucking up so. Very. Badly.

Harry sat up about ten minutes before Ava was set to be home. He made a list on his phone of things he needed to do; there was no order to the list as the last item was probably most important…but his already broken, stupid mind didn’t have it in him to put it first, out in the open like that.

-Work portfolio -Gemma b-day present -Laundry -Tell Ava -Tell...

He didn’t want to finish the last sentence.

What were his options?

He could tell Ava. But that ensured a blowout fight. They would probably break up. Would Ava leave? Technically Harry found this place. Naturally, she complained how her fifteen-minute commute to work was brutal every couple months (usually around holidays when the traffic would amplify to thirty minutes—not that she ever left a moment earlier to account for the time differential) and made sure to tell Harry that she didn’t like living here.

But…Harry didn’t like the idea of breaking up. It felt like he was losing. Everyone had sympathetic eyes for him when Ava made him mad–especially in public. There goes the poor sap that can’t get out of a bad relationship. But it wasn’t bad. At least…it wasn’t always bad. Harry had to stay for a reason right?

What are those reasons? The voice of Harry’s heart was turning into his second conscience but almost entirely for the benefit of Harry’s happiness.

The sympathetic eyes would soon become I-told-you-so-eyes. That was the last thing Harry wanted.

Maybe he needed to call Gemma. Gemma was like a compass. She always knew what to do to help her little brother and this might be the stupidest thing he had ever done. But he didn’t need to call her. He knew exactly what she would say. It’s not fair to you or Ava to be in a relationship that makes you both so unhappy. Gemma would be kind. She probably wouldn’t even say I told you so just to be nice.

But he would know.

He cheated. Plain as day. There was no if ands or buts. There was no way to deny it. No taking it back. He messed up.

But the little voice in charge of his heart wasn’t going down without a fight. This is a good thing. It insisted. You want to break up with Ava. You haven’t been happy in a while! Sunshine. You need Sunshine.

But Harry, now taking over for his conscience that abandoned him on the elevator ride back to their place, knew that it was easier said than done. It was way more complicated. Perhaps most importantly, it was so irreconcilably stupid on his part that despite how much he needed some sunshine in his life, he did it the very worst way possible.

Because even though what he did to Ava was despicable, the thought of hurting that sweet girl in the laundry room hurt his fragile heart even more.

Harry could hardly sleep beside Ava. He tossed and turned for the better part of the night. By the time six in the morning rolled around he was completely exhausted and restless. If he got four hours’ worth of sleep, he was lucky. It was Saturday. He wanted to sleep in. If he slept in, he wouldn’t have to deal with the shitty situation he got himself into for a while longer.

But instead, his restless mind was punishing his stupid behavior by making him wallow in it. Making him wake up at six in the morning on a Saturday so he could recognize his stupid, stupid mistake.

“Harry?” Ava sounded sleepy of course. “Y’okay, baby?” She asked.

Harry felt the warmth of her kind voice seeping through his whole body. Especially with the name baby on her lips.

Shit.

“M’fine, love,” he lied.

“S’early,” she slurred tiredly.

“Can’t sleep,” he shrugged, starting to roll out of bed. “I’ll go to the other room,” he mumbled. She frowned and Harry couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked when she wasn’t at his throat for every little thing. Her concern made him warm over a little more. The guilt he felt ached a little more.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Hope you feel better,” she murmured. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. It was like he was on autopilot. As if he had done it thousands of times before. It was moments like this, the quiet, gentle ones, that made him believe in the reasoning behind staying in a relationship that drove him crazy most days.

Moments like that made him understand he had to tell his laundry partner the bad news.

Ava wasn’t stupid.

She had a degree, a job, and two eyes that told her Harry was happy. Happier than he had seemed in a really long time.

Of course, his happiness didn’t involve her.

And that made her mad.

She wasn’t quite sure what had changed about Harry specifically; why he got so happy so suddenly. As far as she knew he went to work and came home. But with the way they argued and how irritated she felt just looking at Harry some days, she knew something was off in his demeanor.

It wasn’t that she wanted Harry to be unhappy. It was more of the fact that she was unhappy. Ava knew very well that misery loved company. Seeing him happy set off some kind of switch in her head that Harry was in fact her boyfriend and they were supposed to be happy. Seeing him get joy from something else, especially when she wasn’t part of it, irked her more than the way Harry snapped his gum while they watched TV or how he left socks outside the laundry basket and forgot to put the toilet seat down (consistently) late at night.

Harry was a wonderful boyfriend. He always had been from the moment they started dating. Her mom even teased him saying he was too good for Ava. Ava didn’t see it that way. Ava enjoyed her personality and herself and didn’t think anything needed to change. She didn’t see anything wrong with the way she behaved or acted—as her mom put it. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, and how she wanted.

Right now, she wanted Harry right where he was.

“Do you feel better now?” She asked him as she entered the sitting room.

“Yeah, a bit,” he nodded. “I’ll try t’nap later,” he shrugged as he continued reading the book in his hands without looking up.

She pressed a hand to his forehead. He wasn’t warm. He seemed fine. For a moment she gazed in his eyes and noted how green they looked. There was no denying Harry was beautiful—even though the constant fighting made her irritable with him. It was a face she fell in love with because he was so pretty. Soft skin, gentle smile, deep dimples. He was simply dreamy. Someone would have to be blind not to fall in love with him.

Part of her thought someone had fallen in love with him because of the way he looked so happy after the many months of the mutual feeling of misery that flooded their apartment. That simply wouldn’t do.

It wouldn’t take much, she knew it. Harry was a romantic. A few gentle smiles, a bat of her eyelashes, and some light touches and Harry would be putty in her hands again.

His lips parted slightly like this was the first time he had seen her in ages. He didn’t know how to speak. It was so unlike her to worry about him even a little these days. In fact, it was so shocking, he thought he was transported to the laundry room and the gentle touch was coming from the girl that made his heart skip a beat and had the little voice in his head shouting to be heard.

“You don’t feel feverish or look very sick.”

Harry knew he wasn’t feverish. He knew he wasn’t sick either. Maybe lovesick. But that wasn’t something he could tell Ava.

Or maybe it should have been the exact time he told her.

“I can get you medicine if you want while I’m out,” she said softly.

“Oh...uh...thanks, love. That would be good, thank you,” the words felt weird in his mouth, he hadn’t thanked Ava for anything in ages. What was there to thank her for? Hours of worrying and fighting? “You’re going out?”

“Yeah...laundry at mom’s,” she reminded him.

“I could do your laundry y’know,” he offered quietly. He noted the way the slopes of Ava’s face curved so beautifully when she wasn’t scowling at him for the littlest of things. She was a beautiful girl. No question about it.

“I don’t like the way the washers make the clothes smell,” she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

It was as if a shadow cast over her at the very moment she spoke. A backhanded comment for sure—whether she meant it or not, knowing full-well that Harry washed all his clothes in the apartment washers. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Right,” he murmured. “Well, tell her I said hello,” he returned to his book.

She nodded silently.

Returning down the hall, Harry thought it was awfully mature of her to ignore the eyeroll. It was an instinct and he knew he shouldn’t have, but it was hard to feel—

“The eye roll was unnecessary.”

Here we go. “Ava, y’know I do m’laundry down there. Y’basically said I smell.”

She returned the very same eye roll dropping the laundry bag at her feet. “Harry, I didn’t say that.”

“Y’may as well have,” he grumbled.

“It’s too early to argue.”

“M-hmm.”

She would be better later. It would take a lot of active reminders to not fight with him. Sighing, she headed out the door.

For a fleeting moment, she was Ava, the girl he loved and had dated for so long. The little bit of kindness she showed didn’t deserve Harry’s infidelity. It was all his fault and Ava wasn’t that bad.

So, Harry made his way to the laundry room, knowing he would find her there because it was Saturday morning, and it was her favorite time to do laundry—before anyone else was there.

Except Harry. She seemed to make every exception for Harry.

He hoped she would make one this time too.

“Hey munchkin,” she smiled sweetly as Harry got down to the laundry room. He didn’t tell Ava. He knew he should have. Of course, he should have. But there was something about the sunshine that lived in the laundry room that made his brain short circuit. There was something in the air that made him lose all train of thought. All rationality escaped him when he thought about this girl obsessed with The Wizard of Oz.

But it was a mistake on his part. He didn’t tell Ava. Especially after her kindness this morning. The kind of kindness that made him love her—like when they first started dating. Why didn’t he go after her?

“I have t’tell y’something,” Harry said. He looked exhausted. His eyes were red rimmed. His face paled as he spoke.

She frowned. “Uh...okay?”

They weren’t a couple. They weren’t even...anything. Maybe she could say they were friends. Harry owed her no explanations for anything. Maybe kissing was a bad idea. It would ruin their friendship. Or maybe it was worse…

He closed his eyes. “I have t’jus’ say it, Sunshine. But y’have t’let me explain.”

She felt totally rattled. It was obviously a mistake. Completely. Thank God they didn’t have sex in her apartment. Thank God he asked about the picture frame; that they spent nearly an hour talking about music, books, and recipes.

Thank God, they stopped. It was so obvious he regretted it. Was she a bad kisser? Maybe she could convince Niall to help her out. Niall had a lot more practice than she did. No, there was no way Niall would help her with something like that. He would get all grossed out. He would probably lie and tease her and say she was a terrible kisser regardless. Or maybe he–

“I have a girlfriend,” he whispered.

The words hung in the air for a moment in suspended animation. It was like the clocks had stopped ticking, the world stopped turning, the washing machines stopped spinning.

If she was attached to a machine, her brain would show zero activity.

No.

She felt her stomach turn violently and felt her whole body tingle with heat. Part of her thought she was going to throw up.

No, no, no, the voice in her head shouted. No. He’s supposed to be mine!

But there was no reason for her to think like that. Harry wasn’t hers. This was just proof of what she already knew back when she felt that connection to him so instantaneously. She knew he was too good to be true. Her voice stopped working. She wanted to cry but she didn’t want to do that in front of Harry. If she was going to have a breakdown, she couldn’t do it here. She left all her stuff and bolted past Harry, taking the steps two at a time to get away from him without even a word.

He hurried after her. “Kitten,” he cooed gently. She shook her head and continued running for the elevator, grateful it was there, open, when she got there. She rapidly pressed the button to shut the door, but Harry had much longer legs and trapped himself inside the small space before it closed the pair of them in. She turned to the back of the lift and pressed her forehead to the cool metal. “Kitten,” he tried again.

“No,” she sniffled. “No, you can’t call me that.”

“Sunshine, y’supposed t’let me explain.”

“Explain what exactly, Harry?”

He grabbed her arm. Immediately, she yanked it away from him with a shake of her head. “No, you can’t touch me.”

He ran a hand over his face, and she exited quickly as soon as the door was barely open enough to fit her through the space. Naturally, he followed her. “Please let me explain.”

She wheeled around so quickly Harry nearly bumped into her. “Explain what?” She whispered. If there was any more volume in her voice, she would lose complete control. She would cry. She would sob. She would lose any sense of herself because even though she was mad at Harry and how she had foolishly kissed him without knowing she was ruining some poor girl’s relationship because of their kiss...

She was selfishly thinking about how unfair it was that she couldn’t have him.

“Love.”

“Harry. Stop calling me names.”

Closing his eyes, Harry thought he might explode. This was so unfair. He was breaking her heart. All he wanted was to hold it in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?!” She gasped. “I...I don’t...I don’t even know what to say to you,” the tears were about to spill over her lash line. She couldn’t hold the emotions she was feeling much longer.

He dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn’t want to watch her cry. It felt private. Plus, it made him feel guilty that he was the cause. “If it means...anything. M’relationship isn't...good a lot of the time.”

She glared at him and his horrible betrayal. Of her trust. Of her belief in him. In hurting her reputation. “That’s not a reas—”

He put his hands up defensively. “I know, love. I know. S’not an excuse. M’jus’ trying t’give y’details. M’sorry. S’my fault. All my fault,” he promised. Harry felt like he would start crying if she did. “S’nothing...you didn’t do anything wrong,” he promised her. It was a little comforting that he seemed to know what she was feeling and maybe part of her was grateful that he knew she would feel so down on herself about it. “I lead you on. I made the mistake.”

It felt like Harry had taken a steak knife and stabbed it right through her heart with the word mistake coming from his mouth. She thought he would say it when he first entered the laundry room. But it felt so much worse hearing it out loud. Knowing truly why it was a mistake.

“I don’t think we should be around each other… for a while.”

Harry deflated, his face paling. “Love,” he whispered. “I know I messed up...I know...that...” he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “I want to be friends.”

She wanted that too. She wanted more than that. “Sometimes we don’t get what we want, Harry,” she whispered quietly. “I’m sorry too.”

He deserved this. He didn’t even want to hear the I told you so his conscience was probably singing and dancing in the back of his mind. If he could focus on anything other than the terribly sad girl, and how his heart was breaking at the thought of not chatting with her over laundry. This hurt worse than any fight he had with Ava by a long shot.

That seemed like damning proof more than anything.

“Okay,” he murmured taking in her expression one more time. He wished it was happy. Somehow, some way. He wished he hadn’t broken her heart like this—even if her heart wasn’t his to break. He didn’t want the last time he saw her for a while, was her feeling sad and upset. But it was his fault. Completely. There was no question about it. “M’sorry, love,” he whispered.

She nodded. “Me too, Harry.”

God, he wanted her to call him munchkin. He wanted it to be okay. More than okay. He wanted it to be...different. If only he hadn’t fought with Ava. He would have told her. Telling Ava first meant that she would have screamed and yelled and left.

Harry could rationally explain the situation to the girl before him. Explain that it was bad. He wouldn’t get tongue tied. He wouldn’t get his ideas mixed up. He wouldn’t mess this up as well the way he messed up everything else.

“See you around...I guess...” he mumbled and backed toward the elevator.

“Bye, Harry,” she whispered as the elevator slid close.

She had to get her laundry but the idea of going down to that room made her nauseous. Once alone in the comfort of her apartment, she released the sobs she didn’t want Harry to see. There were so many things she needed to think about; she needed a list. A list of things to do. She typed them into her phone.

- Laundry - Pay bills - File paperwork - Harry’s…

It hurt to think about the end of that little chore. Taking deep breaths she closed her eyes and ignored the feeling of more tears that she wanted to fall.

Of course, he had a girlfriend. He was gorgeous, funny, sweet…why would he be single?

As much as she hated herself for hurting his relationship with someone else, she couldn’t help but think about how he mentioned his relationship was bad. The thought made her…sad. She couldn’t help it. The idea that someone as sweet as Harry was in a bad relationship wasn’t…fair. In school, she did rounds of different counseling methods and practices to see which ones she liked best. If she didn’t have her current job, she would strongly consider relationship therapy of some kind. The complexity of staying in a relationship that didn’t make sense was hard to navigate for anyone. She couldn’t imagine the stress and anxiety that Harry was going through on his own. Part of her wanted to recommend a therapist for him despite how he had changed her heart in the last hour.

I wouldn’t let our relationship be bad. She thought to herself.

Shut up. She whispered to the voice that was getting independent thought.

This was horrible.

The thoughts rolled through her head so quickly, she didn’t know what to deal with first. Laundry usually calmed her mind but she thought if she went down there she might go crazy. It wouldn’t be calming knowing they kissed in the very spot they had chatted for the last few months while Harry knowingly had a girlfriend. While they shared secrets, banter, recipes, and all things that people who flirt share.

She hated him.

No you don’t. The voice in her head sounded like it was rolling it’s eyes if it were capable.

But I want to hate him. She responded.

You don’t want to hate him either, you idiot.

Fortunately her phone rang with Niall’s picture taking up her screen. Good. Niall would ground her, help her.

“Hey princess,” he said softly.

That didn’t sound good. With an even heavier heart she swiped the tears away from her eyes, took a deep breath and frowned. “Oh, Ni, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“I…” he sighed. “You know how I was helping with the new office for those two weeks?”

Her heart dropped. She already knew. Part of her wished she didn't even finish the conversation. She knew where it was going. Lay on the heartache. The theme for the day. “Yeah…”

“They…can’t find anyone competent to run it.”

She closed her eyes. She couldn’t tell Niall. Not now. He had his own stuff to deal with and adding to his stress was the last thing she wanted to do. “So you’re competent now?” She asked lightly.

He chuckled softly, grateful that she could make him feel better. “Feels like the worst thing, darling.”

“How long?” It was the most important question. How long would she be without her best friend? How long would they be thousands and thousands of miles and plane rides away from each other? How long would he be gone? How long would she have to hide the horrible thing she did? The horrible thing Harry did? Niall would threaten to kill him. For hurting her heart. She knew it in her bones.

The silence was deafening. He didn’t want to say it. It was going to kill her.

“Just say it, Ni.”

“A year,” he whispered quietly. “Longer if they can’t find someone.”

Fortunately, she was already so heartbroken it was easy to combine her sadness of Harry and Niall together without Niall suspecting a thing. There was so much devastation in her head and heart in such a short amount of time. “A year?” She whispered.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

“What about…the missus?”

She listened to Niall’s deep sigh. “I haven’t told her yet…she can work from anywhere…so I’m hopeful. I wanted to tell you first.”

Her heart fluttered with so much love for her best friend. He told her first. She couldn’t tell him about Harry or the kiss. He would worry and change his career all for her and that wasn’t fair.

She already hurt one relationship today. She wouldn’t hurt another.

She needed a trip to the Emerald City like never before. She had to be brave and strong for him. It felt like she needed courage and a brain for not seeing so many obvious signs before. “Now I know I have a heart…because it’s breaking,” she whispered, quoting the Tin Man. She was going to need a heart too.

He chuckled. “Well m’gonna call every day,” he promised.

She nodded. “You better,” she sniffled and giggled. “When do you leave?”

“Next week.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. This was a good distraction. At least for a little while. “Well, we better make the most of it,” she whispered.

“M’glad you have Harry,” he said. Like a knife to the chest. “You can’t replace me with him, though.”

“Never,” she promised. She had to tell him something. “I…actually have some news on that front,” she sniffed.

“Oh princess,” he said, hearing the crack in her voice. “What happened?”

“He has a girlfriend,” she croaked.

“Oh, darling,” he cooed.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” she shrugged.

“M’sorry, still. I was…I mean…I still think he’s your soulmate. What kind of person quotes The Wizard of Oz like a lunatic?”

She smiled through her tears and nodded. “Yeah…”

“Let me talk to the missus. We’ll do dinner, yeah?”

“Please.”

“See you later, princess.”

What a twister of a day.

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melrosing · 1 month

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Sorry if you’ve talked about this before but I can’t find it if you have. What are your thoughts on Jaime’s role in the Tysha situation?

I don't think I have actually talked about this at any particular length before?? which is weird bc i have thought about it a lot but to quickly summarise before launching into it:

I think Jaime's part in this is a human failing. it wasn't a malicious or spiteful act, but an ignorant one

that said, I think it's basically unforgivable regardless. Tysha and Tyrion are the only people who could forgive him for this and even if Tyrion does, I really doubt we'll ever learn Tysha's feelings on the matter

imo the way in which Jaime ultimately decides to come clean is near enough the cruelest thing he does, even if he didn't mean it to be

so first off, I don't think Jaime has ever truly believed that Tyrion couldn't be loved (in the romantic sense, anyway). Jaime himself is someone who loves despite appearances, and it seems he knows pretty soon after telling Tyrion the lie about Tysha that it wasn't really a kindness, but in fact the worst thing he's ever done (so far!!)

I also think if it hadn't been for what Tywin subsequently put Tyrion and Tysha through with the guards, Jaime would've come clean shortly after telling the lie. but after that, no doubt it felt almost impossible to do so, because the damage was now outsized and there was little chance Tyrion and Tysha would be able to return to what they had.

but he does tell the lie to begin with, and I think that is because Jaime lives in an ableist society and is touched by the stink. he loves Tyrion and Tyrion's disability has never impeded that love, but it has meant that Jaime has failed him many times, sometimes without even knowing he has. for one thing, I think he has failed to realise just how much Tyrion has suffered through childhood. he comes to some revelation following his maiming at the hand of the mummers:

Sometimes he even wept, until he heard the Mummers laughing. Then he made his eyes go dry and his heart go dead, and prayed for his fever to burn away his tears. Now I know how Tyrion has felt, all those times they laughed at him. (JAIME IV, ASOS)

however, it suggests that whilst Jaime has never been laughing with 'them', the full extent of his understanding has necessarily been limited. besides that, I think Jaime has always been in a unique position where he could have definitively stood up to Tywin and Cersei in terms of how they treat Tyrion - he alone had the ability to withhold something until they did so, whether that be love or obedience. but obviously he lets his fear of his father/codependency with Cersei get in the way of that, so.

he's also carelessly partaken in ableism without thinking, indeed in front of Tyrion - whether that's in calling him 'the Imp' (something Tyrion can reclaim but Jaime certainly can't), or this fucking gem:

"Even if the boy does live, he will be a cripple. Worse than a cripple. A grotesque. Give me a good clean death." Tyrion replied with a shrug that accentuated the twist of his shoulders. "Speaking for the grotesques," he said, "I beg to differ. Death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities." (TYRION I, AGOT)

again, doesn't really matter if Jaime has been able to push past some of the ableism others have adopted, the stink is still on him.

so, when Tywin dictated the lie he wanted Jaime to tell, I can imagine he was in two minds. on the one hand, Jaime loves Tyrion, wants Tyrion to be happy, and would be pleased if Tyrion found happiness with someone who truly loves him back. once again, Jaime himself loves despite appearances, and so I don't think he would ever have found it inconceivable that Tysha honestly loved Tyrion.

but again, he lives in an ableist society, and so when Tywin tells Jaime that Tysha's love was cynical, that might have seemed possible, too. Jaime has grown up in a world that has called Tyrion a monster since birth. it doesn't matter if Jaime doesn't think Tyrion is a monster; he knows that much of the world does, and accepts (if only for a time) that Tywin's assessment of Tysha could be true.

then there's the fact that once Tywin has made a decision, perhaps Jaime thought Tyrion and Tysha's relationship was a lost cause; besides that, if Tysha were taking advantage, Jaime doesn't want Tyrion to be hurt by it. hence, "a kindness". it's all deeply flawed logic, but again, this isn't about malice or spite on Jaime's part: it's ignorance mixed up ableism, and human failing.

then ofc, Tywin does what he does to Tyrion and Tysha and that's it. Jaime figures there's no way he could tell Tyrion the truth now without causing him even greater pain, and keeps quiet for the foreseeable future, retaining that as one of his very deepest regrets. because Jaime knows near enough immediately that he was lying to himself as well: he knows full well that Tyrion can love and be loved, and yet he propagated Tywin's lie..... for what.

could get into the absolute fucking tragedy of Jaime and Tyrion, practically the only two out of the Tywin/Cersei/Jaime/Tyrion quartet with a genuinely uncomplicated, loving relationship, having their love turned to poison by the worst dad of all time. but another time

then to move into ASOS: look like I don't know if it was ever the right thing to tell Tyrion the truth once the thing was done. I can see both sides: one, Tyrion deserves to know that he can be loved, and has been loved. two, how the fuck is Tyrion supposed to feel knowing the truth, and that his whole life he's been living a lie.

but I think the biggest problem is that Jaime doesn't really reckon with that so much as his own desire to be honest and do right and come clean etc. he certainly knows how much he risks hurting Tyrion or else he wouldn't have kept quiet all this time, but it seems at least part of it is about honesty for the sake of cleansing himself rather than doing right by Tyrion.

he also. forgets to apologise??

"For your gold, Father said. She was lowborn, you were a Lannister of Casterly Rock. All she wanted was the gold, which made her no different from a whore, so . . . so it would not be a lie, not truly, and . . . he said that you required a sharp lesson. That you would learn from it, and thank me later . . ." "Thank you?" Tyrion's voice was choked. "He gave her to his guards. A barracks full of guards. He made me . . . watch." Aye, and more than watch. I took her too . . . my wife . . . "I never knew he would do that. You must believe me." (TYRION XI, ASOS)

like I think Jaime is honestly sorry. he's afraid to tell Tyrion because he's sorry, he accepts Tyrion's punch because he's sorry, etc. but he never manages to actually say it, he's too busy trying to make himself understood. he wants Tyrion to understand why he did what he did, and it's like. why would Tyrion give a fuck why right now, he'd trying to reckon with the impact it's had on him, and the fact that he and Tysha lost their happiness together and suffered so horribly for nothing.

so whilst I think it's human to botch an apology like this, to be so busy trying to explain yourself you forget to apologise at all, and that you're meant to be centring the victim of your wrong. but it is still fucking wrong lol. Jaime gets it so, so wrong.

all of that to say, I don't think Jaime has ever wanted to hurt Tyrion, but he has - he has hurt him badly. doesn't negate his love for Tyrion - it says in his own POV that Cersei and Tyrion are the two people he cares most about in the world. but he fucks it. partly because of the ableist society he lives in, partly because of the toxic family dynamic he's part of, and partly because he's human, and that's the tragedy.

#ask #jaime lannister #tyrion lannister #asoiaf

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