What is it with shirtless Leon mods??? Where’s the scars, the hair, the healthy amount of fat on an older Leon?? WHY is he lookin like a Ken doll. You’re telling me that this man WAXES? I don’t fucking think so
Summary: Upon comforting a newly cured Leon, the night turns intimate- something you never expected, but always dreamt of.
Warning/tags if needed: fluff and smut, Leon whimpers, Dom Leon Kennedy, breeding, praise, Leon needs a hug.
A/N: this was meant to be pure fluff but I got hornyyy
Leon wasn’t cold, he wasn’t reserved, but he was stoic and handled his trauma the way the job demanded. It was a shame, that same cycle of just existing through the ghosts of his past, always fighting some new bad guy after another.
You had always been of the opinion the man needed just a little love, a little touch where he desired it most, even if he didn’t know it. Unfortunately, you had this little game going on where you were dancing around your feelings.
Furthermore, you were the doctor for DSO, so naturally, you paid him a visit after his gruelling mission. Sherry let you know what was happening during, thank god, or you would’ve been anxious worrying about him, especially due to having previously been attempting to find (unsuccessfully) a treatment for the T-virus of which he’d contracted before he left.
Forward to now, as you gave him a private checkup in his apartment. He enjoyed the light touches of your fingertips as you scanned (more like admired) his face, the way you sighed contentedly with every green flag; it was comforting to him.
“Well,” you began. “You’re in better shape than you were last time I saw you. I’m really glad.”
“Yeah? I feel better than I have in ages for an old man.”
You seated yourself next to him on his couch, gently touching his arm as you leaned close enough to have a little bit of intimacy. “I was worried about you, and I find nothing wrong with you being an ‘older man’.”
Did you catch his cheeks flush with a deep rose?
He wasn't too sure whether he should admit it, at least now, but he worried he wouldn’t make it back to you too. He thought of you with each battle he fought, you were his north star to follow home.
You realized your hand had been on his arm for a little too long, yet upon removing it, Leon uttered something that surprised you.
“Don’t let go of me. Not yet.” he pleaded, almost begged, even.
You obeyed, sliding your hand down his arm to his own hand, giving it a squeeze as you pressed your cheek to his shoulder. Was that okay?
You and Leon were as intimate as your repressed feelings allowed for, which sometimes implied little touches here and there, but nothing major– this was teetering the line between friends or more.
“I’ll be right by your side however long you want me to be, Leon.” you reassured him, enjoying the fact he trusted you like this, to be here with him.
A few moments of contented, comfortable silence passed before you heard a light sniffle, pulling back just enough to see a lone tear slide down Leon’s cheek. His cheeks and nose were a light rouge, his eyes glossy and sorrowful.
“It was my second day on the job,” He solemnly spoke, turning to look at you with a trust in his gaze that spoke to your heart. “-When you think about it, anyway…”
“Oh, Leon…” you placed a hand on his cheek, proceeding to kiss the tear away without a second thought, without inhibition. .
He tried to pull away, to undo the sad air he had created; but you placed a hand on his cheek, maintaining eye contact as he apologized. "I'm sorry, heh– ‘needed a good cry I guess, huh?”
He then proceeded to try and laugh it off, but you wouldn’t let him. “You confronted your trauma, that’s not something just anyone can do. I’m proud of you, and do not let yourself forget it. You did good, Leon.”
Your words were spoken so softly, so gently that he felt like he was in the arms of a saint. He pressed his forehead to yours, feeling safer than he has in awhile.
“I missed you,” He muttered, his eyes going from your lips to your eyes in turns.
Without a word, you kissed him. It was gentle at first, like clouds; the longing entrapped in just one touch, years of restraint lifted. Then, it grew hungry, passionate, even. It grew sloppy and wet until he had you on your back, gently placed on the cushions below.
You pulled back for air after a few moments, panting as you gazed up into his eyes. “Take me?”
“Never thought you’d ask…” He practically growled, rutting his bulge up against your clothed cunt.
You whimpered at the touch, and you swore you could feel him pulsating. He quickly pulled up your shirt, enveloping your tit between his lips as his freehand played with the other. You moaned, full of need for more.
“Fuck- sound so pretty, gorgeous.” he praised, causing you to clench around nothing.
It felt so good as his fingers toyed with your nipple, the other treated delicately by his tongue. You could sense the passion within him, the lust and desire he felt towards you. It was a moment you’d fantasized about for years.
“Leon, i need you-”
“I’m here, baby–”
“No, I need you inside me, please…”
His cock twitched at your words, ready to do as he was told as he, in one fluid motion, undid his belt and let his large cock slapped against his stomach, all whilst as you quickly discarded your panties to the side, him then lifting up your skirt to reveal your glistening cunt. It didn’t take him long to bend you into another position, knees against your chest.
He rubbed his tip against your clit, teasing you as you whined. “I’ll be gentle.”
“Who said I wanted you to be?”
His breath hitched, “I’d watch what you say, sweetheart.”
His cock lined up with your hole, knowing you’d be wet enough to take him just fine with the sight of your pussy alone. Carefully, he entered you, his cock disappearing in one fluid motion as he moaned.
Your velvet walls hugged him so good, so tight that he let a whimper slip. At that, you clenched, ready to cum without another thrust even needed just by the sound alone. Carefully, he thrusted out, and back in, creating a steady, delicious rhythm.
You cursed, telling him how good he felt, which only served to encourage him. He was full of lust for you, having thought about cumming into your cunt dozens of times late in the night, breeding you. Part of him never quite believed it would happen, though. This moment was a dream.
You both panted, him placing kisses along your neck as your eyes fluttered. You felt like a bitch in heat, your cunt hugging his cock nice and tight. He made the prettiest noises too, soft yet hard grunts and loud moans. He wasn’t afraid to make noise, and that only turned you on more.
You felt a heat building in your core, the tidal waves of pleasure reaching its peak. “L-leon, im–”
“I know, baby-” He could sense it, the way you tightened around him and squirmed beneath him. “Don’t be shy– ah– cum for me, be a good girl…”
With that, the gates opened and you came, gushing around him and creating an absolute mess of his couch– not that he gave a shit. The moment he praised you, you were done for. The words struck you, His good girl…
Continuously, you felt a hot stream enter you as his cock burst, sharing an orgasm with you in a moment so tender, riding it out together on a high better than cloud nine as your arms wrapped around him and clawed up his back.
And the night went on like that, again, again, and again; leon bending you into different positions, hitting those sweet spots inside of you better than anyone else ever could. You even teased him, causing his thrusts to go on longer, harder, cumming into you all night long. He enjoyed that you were a little bit of a brat in the bedroom, but you took him so well, too.
Ending up in his bed at last, he pressed a long, gentle kiss to your lips once more. You smiled into it, basking in his essence for as long as you could. You could taste yourself on his lips, for that night you learned he was quite the munch, digging his tongue into your cunt like a fine meal, pulling orgasms out of you just like that for almost half an hour.
“Take you out to dinner, sweetheart? Tomorrow, if you'd like?”
“How about breakfast?”
“Fine by me, as long as you’re my dessert.” He commented, causing you to laugh.
Summary: Leon arrived home earlier than expected, and is in need of a little self care from you after a gruelling mission away OR Leon needs to be treated like a princess sometimes, and who knows him better than his switch wife?
Warning/tags: switch Leon, Dom Leon (he gets a little subby), dilf Leon, fluff and smut, Leon needs a hug.
A/N: Crossposted from my ao3!!!
It was late in the evening when you’d heard the key jiggle from within the door, a sound of which you hadn’t expected to hear for at least two more weeks. Excitedly, you jumped from the couch, turning to see the door open to reveal your husband, Leon; in one piece, thank fucking god.
The moment he met your eyes, he felt truly at home, safe and sound as you’d hoped he’d be. He had yearned for this moment, both in the field and on the ride back to you. he wanted to be touched by you, held and pampered like he knew you were good for. He missed you more than anything. He could've cried, not quite believing he'd made it home to you alive.
With a quick pace and no time to think twice, you ran up to him, trapping your arms around his torso as his hands captured your cheeks, pressing a kiss to your lips that tasted heavenly. You'd noticed the T-virus was gone, that he must've been cured, but it was such a hard subject that you dared not broach how it quite came to be just yet, you wanted to enjoy the man you loved dearly for now.
He sighed contentedly into your lips, breathing in the scent of your perfume of which he missed dearly. This moment was sweeter than honey, better than the hell he’d just gone through.
“You have no idea how much I missed this…” he spoke as he pulled back, but close enough to be able to kiss you again with ease if he so wished.
“I was worried you wouldn’t make it back home.” You replied with much relief, suddenly regarding the extra scars he brought back with him, the bruise on his cheeks and more. It was normal, of course, but it hurt you each time nevertheless.
You sighed, guiding him backwards towards the bed by his large, muscular arms, forcing him to sit before you once you’d made it. In response, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his forehead to your stomach with a deep sigh of contentness as he kept you close.
Slowly, you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging the scalp and occasionally twirling a Locke around your fingers. And just like that, he felt safer than he’d felt in the past…hell, he doesn’t even remember how long it’s been since he got to see you last. He used to count the days, but it only made him feel worse about putting you through such a mystery of whether he’d survive it, so he stopped.
“I’ll take care of you, hun, just relax.” You reassured him, all the tension he’d felt vanishing like a ghost in the wind.
Each passing of your fingers through his scalp lifted all the pain away, the emotional torment. It was nothing in comparison to you, his solitude, his sanctuary away from a world of which beat him over and over any chance it got.
“Sometimes even I wonder how I do it anymore, how I can make a difference when there’s always something.” He confessed with a light groan, aware of his own fatigue and with great stress on his last word, carefully chosen to express the fear of never ending horrors he couldn’t otherwise put into more words than that.
He hadn’t picked up a drink in years, and most of that was thanks to you; but sometimes, he wondered if it would help before realizing how stupid a thought that even was.
“It may not seem like it, I know, but think of all the people whose lives you’ve personally saved, face to face. Those matter, Leon, you do it because it’s the right thing to do” and because you were forced into it, but you wouldn’t say that aloud. Forced or not, his job was important. Fate had assigned him to it, because who else would?
“Yeah,” his grip on you tightened, “I know.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the embrace, the way your fingers ran through his hair soothed him deeply. Angels must be real because you were one to him in so violent a world he had been thrusted into.
“I think you need a little self-care, that can be in order, hm?” You suggested, beginning to lightly tug on his hair, causing him to groan for an entirely different reason now.
He looked up at you with a cheeky smile, “hmph, doctor's orders, right?” He took a deep breath, knowing he wanted you to do whatever you wanted with him, hold him or fuck him within an inch if his life, he didnt care. “- If I ever say no to that, I want you to shoot me.”
Gently, you pushed him onto his back, gliding your warm hands down from his shoulders, to his chest, and to his stomach as you lowered yourself to your knees before him. Every touch was electric to his scarred skin, he could feel himself pulse between his legs with every nerve caressed.
With slow precision, you undid his buckle and tedious buttons which separated him from bliss. Your fingers almost shook with how anticipated this moment was. You could see how hard he was as you undid his trousers, it almost made you drool, with oh how desperate you were to taste him again.
At last he sprung out with a soft sigh uttered from his lips. His tip was flushed a bright red, a little pre-cum already seeping out. Slowly, you brought a hand to the base of his cock, bringing your lips to the head and placing soft little kisses there, leading your lips downwards and downwards with little peppering kisses until you came to a stop where your fingers met the base, with you then licking a stripe back up to the tip ever so teasingly.
“Sweetheart, please….no teasing me, or I might just spank you after this.” His voice crossed the line of desperation, his hands now gripping the sheets beneath him.
“Begging, are we, Leon?” You smirked, looking up at him with almost innocent doe eyes, as if you'd never committed such a crime in your life.. “Tell me how much you want me.”
“Bad,” there was a lot of emphasis on that word, he uttered the next so softly and gently. “I need you, I always do- fuck, was thinking about you every fucking single day I was gone.”
“And?” you hinted for more, your cheeks all flushed from how eager he was to have you, to love you with everything he had even in the most distressing of situations.
He groaned, knowing exactly what you wanted to hear. “Ive been a good boy, yeah?”
And with those endearing words, you enveloped his tip between your lips, swirling your tongue around the flaring head as the prettiest of sounds erupted from your sweet, desperate man.
“shit….” He grunted, his cheeks flushed as you took more of him in your mouth. He loved watching as you took him, albeit, was worried the very sight would cause you to choke on his cum a little too soon with how needy he found himself to be. He just wanted to burst, to watch you take everything he had in him.
You were precise and delicate with your movements, how your tongue moved around his cock, how your head bobbed up and downwards with no restraint in sight.
“I’m- fuck, fuck sweetheart, I’m gonna cum—“
You brought a hand to his thigh, caressing it, encouraging his climax. You had almost been tempted to tease and edge the poor man, but with what he went through, he deserved to be treated like a princess. Furthermore, that was enough for him, as you felt his cock twitch and a warm stream of cum entered your throat.
Pretty moans came from him, loud ones of ecstasy as all pressure built up for weeks was released. Before you stood up, you planted a sweet kiss on his inner thigh, causing him to shake just a tad. Once up and leaning over his bigger frame, you pressed kisses to his cheek and jaw, then his neck. You wanted nothing more than to express how much you adored him, wanted to take care of him.
He ran a hand through your hair as you sucked and licked his flesh, his breathing a little uneven, the temptation rising again as his orgasm came to a calm.
An idea had entered your mind. “You’d look even nicer tied up, hm?”
“Think so?” He tried to laugh, but the desperation was too much, it bled through every interaction. “we can arrange that.”
From your nightstand, he reached and pulled out a pair of handcuffs with fluffy rimming. He chuckled at the sight, though with an air of desperation and need.
You gently cuffed his wrist to the frame of the bed, his breathing uneven and heavy as he anticipated what was next. Slowly, you lifted his shirt which rested tightly upon his muscles. You lifted it just enough so that his pecks could be exposed.
Gently, you pressed sweet kisses to his chest, and to his right nipple, where you then licked around the sensitive bud. Meanwhile, your left hand was a bit preoccupied with making sure the other was played with between your finger tips.
He moaned, struggling against his cuffs. “All right, gorgeous, come on. I need to feel you.”
You giggled at his frustration, moving your lips to the other and doing just the same, with the exception of a very gentle nibble which caused him to cry out in pleasure. You knew every inch of his body like your own, his needs, everything.
And like that, you slowly descended onto his lap, your panties long discarded as you lowered yourself unto him. You teased his tip with your hole, testing the waters as he grew more frustrated. It was a cute look on him.
“Sweetheart, please, fuck-” he composed himself, “Please, fuck me before i break outta these cuffs and pound you into next month.“
You felt your core clench. “Only because you asked so nicely…”
You sunk into him, feeling every vein and inch of him as he pressed into your tight cunt. He moaned loudly, feeling the way you clenched around him with the sweet noises he made. You began a steady rhythm, your hips moving upwards and downwards, his cock slipping in and out of you as he twitched and whimpered.
Funny how those same cute noises you pulled out of him were also the same ones he made when he was hurt…
Yet, with each digging of his cock into your wet cunt, and as much as you tempted to tease him, your own orgasm was building up, your bundle of nerves not being able to handle such a dominant position much longer. you were breaking from the inside. And Leon was no idiot, he could sense it in you, as your breathing hitched and your eyes squeezed shut with that pretty little pout pressed to your lips, the way your movements became less calculated and steady, more sloppy and needy.
With an abrupt snap, his wrists grew free, with the handcuffs utterly snapped in half and tossed aside. Without being able to react, you felt his hands on your hips, as his waist jerked up into you and his grip tightened. He was guiding your orgasm now, jerking you up and down on his cock as you gave into his control.
“How-“ but you couldn’t finish your sentence, lips pursing and eyebrows furrowing together as you felt a tidal wave of pleasure storm within you. He praised you, telling you how good you did taking his place, and how nice you looked now all fucked pretty.
His sudden escape took you by surprise indeed. It was hot how his muscles flexed, how he gained his freedom with such incredible strength. You were already wet, but now? It felt like an ocean had sprung between your legs.
You came like a crashing of waves against a cliff's side, practically crying his name out to the stars as you rode that high, him still thrusting into you with careful but hard strokes. You felt a hot stream invade you as he whimpered in response.
“F-fuck…. Leon, I was— I was doing just fine.” You whined, catching your breath.
He took heavy breaths as he spoke, gently massaging your hip that he continued to hold as he looked up at your fucked out features. “Not from my view, but you did good, sweetheart.”
“I should’ve known,” you laughed, pulling out of him and dropping down next to him, turning to face him as your back lay on the mattress. “-Nothing can hold you back.”
He pressed his lips to your forehead, bringing you close to his chest. “From you, That is.”
“Always the romantic, hm?”
“Only for my girl,” he smiled, “now, let’s get cleaned up. ‘Think a bath is in order, princess. And, I gotta admit, my back’s a little sore from the workout.”
Summary: Repressed feelings rage inside you as Leon and yourself are exposed to a long dormant plant with peculiar properties OR Leon can't hold himself back, on his knees for just a taste of you.
Warning/tags: Smut, pollen, fem reader, diff Leon Kennedy, Dom Leon ( but he's a switch I swear on my life-)
A/N: Im sooo mentally ill about him, and ive always been a resident evil fan so the new game has me in a chokehold. anyway, this fic is also posted to my ao3!!!
Leon had been, for a very long time, a man of stoic character for self preservation; a result of both his training, and PTSD.
Yet now, he whimpered like a dog begging for a treat, overridden by primal need. It was cute on him. Seeing this 50-something man who’d been through such horrors, on his knees for you, would be touching to anyone.
The pollen didn’t create the lust, only multiplied it, enhanced it, even. It works with what’s already there.
He felt so vulnerable, and he thanked god that it was you he was to feel that with, as opposed to anyone else it could’ve been, seeing him in a state like this… he was panting, eager to rip all your clothes off and ravish you like a fine feast. God knows he’d had many such fantasies before this.
This predicament began when you had stumbled upon a long abandoned umbrella lab, were stuck in there with some old “demons” of the place, all whilst trying to get the power running again. In the process, you had found an old, boarded up greenhouse with strange flowers you’d never seen before.
It was too late when you realized what it was, the pollen inhaled by you both as you pushed Leon to get out. Unfortunately for him, he was much more affected almost immediately, in comparison to yourself. Some science-y reason you supposed, because it sure as hell wasn’t because you didn’t reciprocate his feelings deep down.
You could see it on his face; the way he looked at you like he wanted to eat you, the way his cheeks were all rosy and flushed. Not to mention the clear bulge below.
“Sweetheart, ah fuck- it hurts…” he whimpered, clutching his side as he looked up at you, his features lit up by the open sunlight shining through a crack in the roof. His free hand held onto you with a tightening grip, wanting nothing more than to rip your tactical gear clean off your skin.
The pet name, furthermore, sent flutters to your heart– not expecting such a show of affection and lust from so stoic a man. It was clear now, how much he wanted you, how much he had dreamt of this moment; Albeit, you were still unsure, unsure of whether this had to have been solely the pollen responsible, not understanding how so pretty a man could choose anyone to love, and choosing you.
“Leon, you have to fight it-“ you cut yourself off, your skin hot and itchy, just wanting to pull the fabric off and unable to focus on anything but. You didn’t want to fight it, deep down, you wanted to ravish him. “-I, oh god…”
“Fuck the pollen, I want you. “ You couldn’t help but whimper at his words, and if his cock wasn’t already hard that would’ve done the trick.
He said your name, firm and more in control than he’s been in the past ten minutes. It took all his strength to do so. “Look at me.”
You hesitantly made eye contact, looking down on the man still on his knees as he took your hands and pressed a kiss to them. “Let me help you, I’ll make it better. Please, say yes, fuck– help me too.”
Ever the gentleman, Jesus fuck— how could you say no to that? Even though you were at risk of dying due to the pollen, he still needed your consent. He wanted you to enjoy this.
You nodded, seemingly breathless as you gave him the answer he wanted more than anything to hear. Without a second to spare, he stood and lifted you up suddenly over his shoulder, and as fast as he could, tracked down whatever room had a lock on it and no monsters to cock-block him..
Eagerly, he dropped you on a nearby bed, quick to undo his buckle and let his pants drop, kicking them aside as you did the same. It was a flurry of tactical clothing until you felt him on you, his lips on your neck, trailing down your chest as he rutted against you with raw need.
“Fuck, wanted you so bad— so long….” he whimpered against your flesh, his cock hard and pulsating, desperate to be inside you.
His lips met your inner thighs, like soft pillows trailing gently across your flesh. It was exhilarating.
He was so close to your pulsating core, when you suddenly felt his tongue against your slit as he licked a stripe up to your clit. You gasped, your back arching as he dug in like you were a tasty dessert. His tongue dove into your hole after some lapping like a dog, his nose rubbing against your clit as he moaned into your pussy.
The vibrations sent you over the edge, your first orgasm crashing into you like a tropical storm, causing you to writhe and moan out.
And he certainly didn’t stop, he pulled more orgasms out of you then you’d had in the past 3 years, just from eating alone. His tongue was like velvet against you, and he knew exactly how to use it. Fuck– of course he did.
He was lapping hungrily, like he’d been feverishly waiting to feast upon you like prey for months- hell, even years. The wet sounds of his mouth against your wet cunt was bringing you over the edge, unable to take anymore.
“Leon-“ you were so sensitive, and needed more than this. You tried to push his head away but he wouldn’t budge, “f-fuck….Leon Please, please, I want you inside me.”
He pressed a kiss to your clit. “I was inside you, gorgeous.”
Always a fuckign smartass, but even he had to admit his cock was aching with lust, he needed to feel you close in on him.
In seconds, he was atop of you, his cock lining up with your hole as he placed a kiss to your forehead, his muscular arms holding him up just enough. He needed you fervently, he almost felt near feverish with how desirable you were.
“I can’t hold back, ‘m sorry.” he warned. He'd treat you like a gentleman any other time, but he wouldn’t be able to now, not with the effects of the pollen.
“I don’t want you to.” and you meant it, a promise in your tone.
He slid in with ease from how wet you were, you each moaning at once. Your velvet walls crushed him, and god did he love the sensation. He made the prettiest of noises, too, little whimpers, grunts, and moans that made you clench around him hard.
He began a desperate, hard rhythm as he rutted into you like a bitch in heat. You were heavenly to him, the wet sounds of him sliding into your cunt causing him to twitch.
You cried out his name, a gush of pleasure erupting from you. He was done for in response, cumming into you after just around five strokes, the wet hot stream filling your cunt and filling you up.
He wanted nothing more than that, his primal needs told him to breed you, to fill you up over and over until you couldn’t take anymore. Until you were left with enough kids to be a fucking Mormon. He wanted you senseless and fucked good.
You were being fucked dumb as his cock slid out of you only to be thrusted back in with passion you hadn’t felt in, well, forever. He pressed hot, sloppy kisses to your neck, nibbling a little on the flesh as he desired to taste you, all of you that he possibly could.
“Eyes on me, gorgeous.” He could barely manage without a whimper, gripping your hand with his free one as it dug into the mattress beneath.
Your eyes fluttered, doing as told as you felt another orgasm build with such intensity you thought for a second you had gone blind, seeing stars.
After pulling a few more out of each other, he forced you face down into the mattress, ass up as he entered you again with ease. It was a delicious stretch causing you to moan out, as did he. He made the prettiest fucking sounds that itself made you clench in response.
He grabbed a fist full of hair, pushing your head down as he thrusted into you like a rabid animal during breeding season. His grunts and moans erupted like heavenly chimes, as you too whimpered and cried into the fabric your face was shoved against.
His cock seemed to reach places inside of you that you didn’t think one could reach, but Leon was big, and he knew exactly what he was doing. All anxiety he would’ve otherwise had during your first time was nonexistent. Only lust persisted.
An hour passed in pure ecstasy, with Leon folding you into positions you had never tried, and once you were on top of him; controlling him with a hand on his throat, choking him just enough as he came in streams, turning your pussy into a personal cum dump.
You laid beside each other, the burning itch of carnal lust having subsided. It was now just you two, and your raw, uninhibited feelings after that.
“Well,” you spoke. “That’s one way to get out repressed feelings…unless, you regret it.”
He seemed almost hurt at such a notion as he brought you close to his chest, pressing a hard kiss to your forehead. “Why the hell would I? Unless…you-“
“No, I just- we didn’t really have a choice-“
“I have a choice right now, and I’m staying with you. In whatever way you want me to be…” he cleared his throat, his cheeks flushed. “-and, well, like I said; fuck the pollen, I’d fuck you without it.”
“Ever the gentleman.” You sarcastically joked, leaning back against him as you hid your face in his neck.
“Romantic.” he corrected.
He would certainly prove to be, taking you out to dinner when you finally got off this hell site.
I used to think of Jane Austen's heroines as All of Them Except Emma, but somewhere along the line I've let that go, because Emma is more similar to the others than she seems.
Emma, similarly to Elizabeth, Marianne, Elinor and Catherine, can be a poor judge of character, blinded by her emotions, and too dependant on first impressions.
Emma doesn't need to marry, which on a surface-level seems unique, but really only Fanny Price and Elizabeth Bennet are in bad financial situations if they remain unmarried. Even the Dashwood girls would be okay if their mother died (the £7000 of their mother's would be split between them), Anne Elliot muses that if her father remarries she can just live with Lady Russell (and her sister is married and could provide her a home as well), and Catherine Morland's family would definitely take care of her if she never married. I think all of Austen's heroines (Emma included) would prefer to be married, both for financial and societal reasons, but they aren't all desperate.
Despite the trappings of a very privileged existence, Emma is imprisoned by her circumstances. She travels the least of any heroine, less than Fanny Price, and her father is just as dependant on her as Lady Bertram is on Fanny. Her wealth means nothing because what can she even do with it?
All of Jane Austen's heroines are beautifully drawn explorations of the difficulties that gentry women faced in the Regency era, even Emma.
Hi, I love your art! Among the many things to ponder over in Star Wars, do you ever get sad thinking about all the crimes adventures that Padmé and R2 got up to while she was a senator pre aotc?
LOL omg yes, though maybe not all of artoo's crime/adventure ideas were to Padmé's liking...
When they're first introduced, Smoke is wearing a tweed suit with a flat cap that's typical of an Irishman, while Stack is wearing a fedora with a pinstripe suit accessorized with gold bits that lean into a more Italian style. This hints that the brothers dress appropriately to blend in with both the North Side Gang and the Chicago Outfit back in the city. [x]
on amok time again: they really did "spock experiences primal alien mating drive and murder fuck ritual," and didn't even play with "and this is an excuse to see our prim and proper mr spock get sensual with a lady!". like he expends ALL of his hot dominating fantasy uncontrollable lust rage energy ON KIRK. they wrote that and had ONE chance to make spock have any scandalous, carnal housewife jerk off material romance they wanted with any sexy space woman in the universe, and they chose kirk. when he does interact with a woman he throws a soup at her
that moment by the end of sinners where the harrowing opening scene of sammie walking into the church bloody and beaten, shellshocked, terrified, holding his broken guitar, and his father is welcoming him back into the fold of the church like a prodigal son, and it seems to be the perfect set up for a religious cautionary tale of the consequences of straying from god... but it's then resolved in this instant transition where you see sammie driving away, crying, still clutching his guitar despite it all and it hits all in one moment that he has rejected christianity and chosen blues even though he's just gone through this horrible, traumatic event "because" of "the devil's music" - that he has uncovered and refused the abusive fallacy at the center of christianity that the bad things that happen to you if you stray are because of the things you love that are against bible doctrine, that it's your fault and you've brought it upon yourself. and he said no! he said no. and then we see him go on and live to have this successful career and know that he was right, that the association of blues with the devil was a lie. that's it that's what it's like. i bawled my eyes out at the movie theatre especially in combination with the beauty and terror of the piece the resistance of the film, the scene where the spirits of the past and future all come together to unapologetically embody that music, that history, even as they are surrounded by flames burning the building down, and it's like: fuck you, we'll have the party in hell, then, but god damn it we will have it
My mom kept complaining that all of a sudden the Beatles are back and they're fucking everywhere and they're so obnoxious and were practically having an orgy in her garden under a cucumber leaf and that's when I realized she meant spotted cucumber beetles and not Paul McCartney
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