clumsy
cw: yoga instructor!Rafe being touchy and suggestive (is he even talking about yoga atp?)
wc: 890
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Thinking thoughts about yoga instructor!Rafe who’s always correcting clumsy!reader’s posture with a warm palm on her waist. Pushing her forward with a soft press of his big hand against her back; tapping her thigh to get her to switch into a better position.
Heady breaths tickling her ear when he mumbles out advice on how to get the stretch to feel deeper, murmuring soft words of encouragement in a certain cadence that makes her tingle, something profound in her tummy flutter.
He’d mumble out insane things that never fail to make her brain short-circuit.
“This one’s a bit of a harder one but I know you can take it, yeah?”
“Shit, you’re getting so good at this.”
“You feel that?”
She signed up for the yoga class in order to help her achy muscles relax a bit, not expecting the instructor to be so…hot (for the lack of better words). Therefore, che can’t possibly focus her attention on his directions since all she can concentrate on is the way his muscles ripple under his shirt and his beefy forearms flex whenever he’d demonstrate a new pose with sweat glittering on his forehead.
He’d make rounds around class and help everyone get their form right and whenever he’d get to her his hands would always linger for longer than necessary, making her assume she simply needed more assistance since she hadn’t really been paying attention when he was explaining it at the front.
“Clumsy little thing, huh?” He’d playfully mock her when the minute his hands weren’t supporting her she’d stumble on her feet.
Then one day after class when nearly everyone’s left and there’s only a few people loitering around, gathering their things, Rafe pads over to her.
She’s in the midst of taking a sip from her water bottle and his tall frame approaching her makes her look up; he’s clad in a black pair of workout shorts and a dark grey t shirt. Her gaze stalls on the way his tongue pokes out to lick over his pillowy lips.
“Hey, so I thought I could go over that one pose with you one more time. Just so you really get it for next time, yeah?” He suggests, merely wanting to help out the poor girl who’s always struggling in the back of his class.
“Oh, um— sure,” she answers, embarrassment painting over her features because she knows exactly what he’s referring to; a specific position where she had toppled over and hit the floor, making Rafe’s eyes widen in concern and the other people around her gasp and ask if she was okay.
It didn’t really even hurt that much, she thinks. At least not as much as her flimsy ego that got bruised up in the midst of it all, trying to cover up how humiliated she had felt with a small laugh, climbing back up to stand on wobbly legs accompanied by a flushed face.
At this point they’re the only people left and she suddenly feels all too nervous because she’s never been alone with him before. Her inhales and exhales are turning labored, intractable. And she’s not sure whether her clamorous respiration is echoing in the empty room or in the empty halls of her mind. She mentally crosses her fingers and wishes it’s the latter, stepping on top of her shamrock-colored yoga mat.
“So, what you wanna do is concentrate your weight on this leg, so you don’t lose your balance,” he taps her right thigh and she nearly stumbles on her feet once again; the corners of his mouth tugging up. “And then bend the other one right here, you think you can do that?”
“Mhm,” she hums as she moves her limbs in the way he’s patiently instructing her to.
“Just like that,” blue hydrangea eyes are glued to her, making her think he can read right through her as she swallows at the praise.
“Then, you gotta lean your weight here,” he settles a hearty hand on her right upper arm, thumb mindlessly skating over her burning skin as she does just that.
“There you go, Bambi,” he murmurs and a pomegranate tinge blushes over her cheeks at the nickname, rounded eyes trying to blink away the haze that clouds over them.
“You feel it here?” His fingertips graze over her inner thigh and she manages a nod, limbs feeling mellow and spongy all of a sudden.
“Good, good,” he breathes out and her brain turns into a knotted ball of wool at his intoxicating proximity.
”And if you ever feel like you’re gonna fall, just focus on a specific spot on the floor or the wall or anything, it’ll help, alright?” The words sound almost gravelly when he rasps them out as his palms rest on her waist, strong arms steadying her.
”Okay…thanks,” she manages out, sucking in some air her lungs are screaming for since apparently she’s forgotten how important breathing is.
He then pushes her forward a little, making her let out a small noise from the back of her throat in surprise. The sudden stretch of the position she’s now in making her gasp.
“I know, feels good, huh?”
”Uh— yeah,” she squeaks out, feeling the cotton material of her panties dampening at the way he’s speaking to her; her thoughts turning into something indecent, muddy...
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Review of Napoleon (2023)
So I saw Napoleon (2023).
eyes glaze over
collapses and melts into a puddle
This is possibly the most soporifically boring, relentlessly mediocre so-called "epic" I have had the misfortune to see.
Plotless, pointless, and devoid of anything approaching characterization, the movie can be best described as reenacted scenes from a wikipedia article about Napoleon as written by the Anti-Jacobin.
The whole thing is suffused with British reactionary propaganda circa 1815. The characterizations are all courtesy of the Anti-Jacobin and Rowlandson’s cartoons. Robespierre is a tyrant, Napoleon is a buffoonish loutish thug, and Josephine is a slut. There’s nothing there. There’s no character arcs, no development. Sure, it’s pretty enough, but it's boring. So, so, so boring.
While watching it, I was frequently in a fugue state, floating over my body, wondering, "what is a movie? is this what they're like now? with no drama, no characters, no arcs, no interest?"
In fact, I didn't watch it: I endured it.
Joaquin Phoenix is awful. He is completely miscast on every conceivable level. Mumbling, monotone, and charmless-- I never for one moment thought I was watching Napoleon-- it only felt like Phoenix's cosplay. He and Vanessa Kirby have so little chemistry they might as well be appearing in different movies. They supposedly have this grand obsession/love story, but this amounts to sitting in the same room staring off in boredom. There's the occasional ridiculous sex scene which is always doggie style with clothes on. But for the most part, Josephine just stands in the rain or stares off into the mist.
Oh yeah there's the occasional battle. Eh…
Napoleon’s life was filled with colorful characters like the foppish, extravagant and brave Murat, the bold and foul-mouthed Lannes, the scheming, irrepressible Fouche, and the bubbly nymphomaniac Pauline, none of whom are here, and you have a bunch of interchangeable extras standing around rooms or battlefields. The only character who makes any impression whatsoever is Edouard Philipponnat as Czar Alexander, and I would have rather had a movie starring this actor. Alas, that's not what we got.
A lot of money was spent on this movie. A lot of choices were made. The result was a bland, forgettable dud that immediately fell into a memory hole as soon I departed the theatre.
As Napoleon himself would say, BAH!
PS. @microcosme11 and I didn't watch the entire thing, because it is 2 hours and 40 minutes long. As all the restaurants in the neighborhood were closing at 10, we left half an hour early, right before Waterloo and after Josephine died of pneumonia, so we could have burgers and a richly deserved beer.
PPS. Feel free to ask me for specifics!
@thiswaycomessomethingwicked @lordansketil @joachimnapoleon @usergreenpixel @twice-told-tales @josefavomjaaga @bunniesandbeheadings @jefflion
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