#i hope if i really delve into this seriously

[gifti3]

Can demons experience the horrors?

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

So we know Blanche is many generations American, but is Rose's family several generations in the country too? St Olaf is clearly an enclave of Norwegian (? Scandinavian?) Americans and still steeped in that culture. Dorothy is canonically a child of immigrants. IK this stuff is unimportant its just interesting to me. Like how Rose and Dorothy are canonically bilingual (or at least Rose is, I can't remember if Dorothy only understands Italian or if she speaks it too).

Hi anon — I’m honestly right there with you because this kind of stuff is so interesting to me as well!! It’s details like these that make up good charming characters — the Girls wouldn’t be themselves without them :)

I’m not able to answer you in depth about these observations atm, so I’ll come back to this ask in a day or two, but I wanted to share it with everyone while I have a minute. Blanche’s family seems to be an old American one for sure (her Jewish ancestor might have arrived later, I’d have to check the info we have about her, but the rest of the Hollingsworth clan seem to be old Americans indeed!).

Rose is a bit more complicated. Technically speaking I guess St Olaf might be an old enclave of Norwegian immigrants who just kept very close contact with their roots? But the way she talks about the place and the people there makes it sound like there’s a certain amount of people who immigrated there recently, too. There’s also the question of her parents — iirc her mother was a St Olaf native, but I don’t remember if her father was as well! I’ll check soon and see if I can deduce anything.

As for Dorothy — she’s shown to understand some Italian in the show, but that’s mostly limited to a few words and expressions Sophia uses. I remember there was an old guy at some point who only spoke in Italian and she couldn’t understand him, so I don’t think she knows Italian all that well! At the very least, she’s not fluent in it. Sophia is also interesting to consider under this pov: she should be fluent in Italian, considering she left the old country when she was already 20 or so, but she has some difficulties understanding it at times, so I’m not sure what the deal is there. Or, well, actually I have a hypothesis for why that is — but I need some more time to articulate it properly, so you’ll need to wait to read it. :)

(Oh, I’d like to point out that Dorothy is still bilingual, even if she doesn’t know Italian! She’s said to know French, because she studied it in school.)

[thewulf]

Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)

In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.

You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.

Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.

"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.

Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.

Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.

As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.

But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.

You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.

Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."

Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."

Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."

The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."

Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."

Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."

Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.

As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.

The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.

In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.

As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.

Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.

"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"

But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."

The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.

"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."

As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."

Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.

Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.

As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"

You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.

"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.

Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."

As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.

"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."

Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."

You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.

You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.

The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."

As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.

You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.

Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.

As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.

As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

Request Taglist: @michasia24 @alicexvrose @samsgoddess @octoavia @agustdpeach @nescavaneck @casualpruneranchfire @sebastiansstanswhore @kaysolai @samron15 @lillianacristina @ryswritingrecord @bitterest-taste

[poisonlove]

Study Session | c.s

pairing: Cairo Sweet X fem reader

Summary: Y/n is terrible in literature and needs a hand

Words: 11.58 k

"Miss Y/S, could you come here for a moment, please?" Mr. Miller asks kindly.

I blink in surprise and walk towards the lectern, my feet almost stumbling on the wooden floorboards. I blush with embarrassment, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Cairo looking towards us with seriousness, organizing her belongings.

I swallow nervously and bite my lower lip, my eyes first glancing at Cairo and then at Professor Miller.

Now is not the time to think about your one-sided crush, y/n I mentally scold myself.

I force a smile and look at the professor with genuine curiosity. "Do you need something, sir?" I say, smiling happily, trying to hide my nervousness.

"I'm not sure how to put this..." Professor Miller sighs and takes off his glasses, looking up to meet our eyes. My smile falters seeing the concern and distress behind his eyes. Professor Miller sighs and takes the assignment I had done last week in his hands.

"It's... It's a mediocre work," he says hesitantly, almost embarrassed.

"To be honest... If you don't do something that impresses me, Miss, you'll fail my class," he says with a tone of voice almost guilty.

My palms sweat, and I try to remain calm. I knew I was really bad at literature, but I didn't expect to fail the year altogether. But what can I say? No matter how hard I try, I can't adequately transcribe what I think onto paper.

"I'm sorry," I whisper reluctantly, deeply ashamed of myself.

Professor Miller gives me a gentle smile, tilting his head slightly as he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"You have great potential," he states with conviction, trying to instill confidence in me. "But you simply have a few more difficulties," he concludes with a compassionate tone, seeking my gaze empathetically.

I stare into his eyes, noticing the intention of conveying moral support.

"Miss Sweet," Professor Miller calls Cairo's attention, making her focus on him.

"Yes, Professor Miller?" she responds with a radiant smile, her eyes shining for... some strange reason.

"Could you help Y/N?" the professor asks, looking at me sideways.

His request makes me feel slightly offended for not having a say, but at the same time, it puts me in a state of anxiety because I would have to work with the girl I've always liked.

Cairo's eyes focus on my figure with curiosity, making me feel nervous and embarrassed by her enchanting beauty. A small smile spreads across her lips before she looks at the literature professor.

Brown eyes looking at Mr. Miller.

"Alright," Cairo responds with a shy smile, which also makes the professor smile.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, observing this strange scene with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

Cairo's smile is kind but enigmatic, as if hiding something behind that seemingly calm façade. I wonder what it could be, but I decide not to delve too deeply into it at that moment.

Professor Miller seems pleased with her acceptance and nods with a pleased expression. "Great! I'm sure you'll make an exceptional team," he comments enthusiastically, encouraging us to work together towards our common goal.

"Cairo," says the professor, maintaining a dazzling smile, "if you succeed in the task, you'll earn an extra credit," he announces proudly, turning his gaze towards his student with a mixture of hope and trust.

Cairo smiles weakly, visibly embarrassed by the attention she's received.

"Well then," I intervene timidly, trying to dissipate the strange tension that has arisen, "shall we?" I add, looking at the girl I've always had a secret crush on with flushed cheeks.

Despite my shyness and the nervousness that overwhelms me, I strive to maintain a calm and decisive tone, hoping to convey confidence both to myself and to Cairo as we prepare to face this new challenge together.

(...)

"So... What do you think?" I say nervously, my hands fidgeting with the threads of my jeans.

I roll a thread around my finger and pull it, tossing it into the grass.

Cairo's eyes fixate on my paper attentively, her pupils moving along my essay with seriousness. The brunette lowers the sheet and looks at me carefully.

"Well?" I say, feeling my stomach tied up with nerves. "Hmm..." She starts hesitantly, tilting her head and leaning against the tree behind her.

The day was perfect, and we had mutually agreed to spend it outdoors doing literature. The rays filtering through the branches highlight Cairo's face, making her eyes appear light brown

She was... Beautiful.

"Is it okay?" She says timidly.

Cairo hands me back the paper, and I sigh in frustration. I could sense that something was missing.

"Come on... Tell me the truth," I say, looking at Cairo curiously. The brunette bites her lower lip and adjusts her posture.

"So... It's not bad, but..." she starts and bites her lower lip, thoughtful. "It lacks emotion... I don't see the passion... I don't perceive anything," she confesses, and I pout.

Darn it... I wanted the truth, but it was entirely heavy

"I knew I shouldn't have spoken," she quickly says, quickly moving her hand, noticing my frown on her lips. "It's perfect," she smiles broadly, and my eyes soften seeing how sweet and cute she was with that expression on her face.

The dimple was adorable, and her eyes sparkled when she talked about something related to writing.

"No... I asked you to be honest, and you were," I say quickly, smiling.

Her eyes look at me with curiosity, and I try to maintain eye contact as much as possible. "Okay..." Cairo murmurs before giving in to this staring contest, taking her notebook.

"I... " I start hesitantly, "have an old piece that I'd like you to read," I say timidly.

I was aware of the risk that she would realize it was about her, but despite that, I thought it was my best work. After all, I wrote it with all the love I feel for her.

"Oh... I'd be happy to," she says sincerely, her pearly whites showing her beautiful smile. Cairo's eyes light up at the mention of reading something, and she quickly reaches her hand towards me.

Shyly, I grab my backpack and search for my work, immediately noticing that it was sandwiched between two notebooks. My cheeks were red from embarrassment for having something so special to me crumpled and carelessly thrown in my backpack.

Cairo takes it without making any comment on its sorry state and begins to read it.

"In the twilight of our intertwined destinies..." The brunette had a focused expression, her voice soft and enveloping.

I wait with trepidation, observing every nuance of her expressions

"she emerges like an elusive shadow, a siren of my lost dreams, with chestnut locks like the earth." Cairo sighs "Her eyes, deep as the abyss of the soul, reflect falling stars and unfathomable secrets, like dark water on a moonless night, where the lost traveler wanders." Cairo suddenly stops, lips still suspended on the sentence.

Her gaze drifts amidst the words as a wave of emotion envelops her voice.

I remain silent, captivated by her interpretation.

The brunette continues, her voice now softer, almost whispered. "Her smile, a fleeting glimpse of light, a glimmer of hope in the darkness, yet also an echo of sadness in the relentless passage of time, a memory of what could have been."

Cairo voice resonates with the melody of the words, conveying every nuance of emotion contained within the text.

I was completely captivated by her facial expressions.

"Yet, amid the folds of uncertain destiny, remains a lost innocence and an unspoken love, an incomplete harmony, an unexpressed desire, like a melody interrupted in the night wind."

"In her breath dance promises of another life, where perhaps our hearts will meet, in the stillness of a world without end, where time is not the master of our destinies."

Cairo tightens the grip on the paper.

"But for now we part ways, like the waves leaving the shore, destined to wander alone in the depths of time. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my being, her essence remains engraved like an ancient melody."

As she reads those words, Cairo's tone of voice becomes soft and melancholic, conveying a sense of nostalgia and sadness. Her words are filled with emotion, with a slight tremor in her voice reflecting the depth of her feelings. Cairo seems to be carried away by the intensity of the text, and her reading is infused with an aura of melancholy and reflection.

"And so I venture into the night, with her memory as my guide, suspended between the pain of loss and the hope of return. In the silence of my soul, I continue to dream, hoping that one day our destinies will intertwine again."

After finishing the reading, Cairo remains silent for a moment, her gaze lost in deeper thoughts. I can sense her mind in turmoil, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Then, slowly, she lifts her gaze towards me, a spark of interest shining in her coffee-colored eyes.

"Who is the muse behind this extraordinary piece?" she asks, her voice warm and full of curiosity, while her expression reflects a sincere desire to understand the hidden meaning behind the words.

I knew perfectly well that I couldn't say it was her, so I just shrugged nonchalantly. "No one in particular," I add calmly, even though my heart was beating rapidly inside me.

"Yet it seems so specific," Cairo observes, glancing at the paper.

Her words make me uncomfortable, but I try to maintain composure. "It's just a product of my imagination," I say with a forced smile, hoping to divert attention away from myself.

"The only certainty is that she's a brown-haired girl with brown eyes," Cairo asserts with a mischievous smile, and a shiver runs down my spine. "The classic always attracts, it seems," she adds, chuckling softly.

Her observation makes me feel like butterflies are doing acrobatics in my stomach.

"Don't be stubborn now," I blurt out in embarrassment, trying to deflect attention from the imminent truth that Cairo is about to uncover with her acute intelligence.

Cairo bursts into laughter, a sound so genuine and contagious that it makes me feel special. Her laughter fills the air around us, wiping away any traces of embarrassment and fear, and I find myself laughing along with her, feeling light and free.

Cairo stops laughing and smiles, a look of sincerity painted on her face.

"It seems you were good at freelancing after all," she observes with a light and friendly tone.

Her comment makes me feel appreciated and recognized for my abilities, and I smile in response. "Thank you," I reply with gratitude, feeling encouraged by her approval.

"I think Professor Miller will like it," Cairo continues, biting her lower lip, lost in her thoughts.

A strange sparkle lights up her eyes, and at that moment, I decide to ask her a question that has tormented me for too long.

"Cairo do you have a crush on Professor Miller?" I ask timidly, curious but also intimidated by the possible answer.

Cairo blushes deeply. "What on earth are you asking?" she responds sharply, clearly embarrassed.

"From the way you react to his mention..." I say with curiosity, "and also you're completely red," I add with a timid smile.

Cairo shakes her head firmly. "No, no," she responds promptly, "I admire Professor Miller, but I don't have a crush on him. He's old, and, above all, he's married." Her tone is decisive.

"Well, gray hair isn't very attractive, right?" I ask with a smile on my lips, while I observe Cairo nodding slightly, smiling broadly and showing her dimples.

Freckles surround her face as her hair falls gracefully around her shoulders.

Cairo looks up at the sky, which is turning orange at sunset, a sign that the day is coming to an end. "I think it's time to go," she says timidly, almost regretfully.

"Is the study session over already?" I say in surprise, pouting.

Cairo nods and smiles. "So, do you like literature now?" she winks, teasing me.

"Not exactly, but the lesson goes better with you," I reply, aware of what I'm saying and noticing the slight blush on Cairo's cheeks.

I realize what I've said afterward and feel terribly embarrassed. A wave of nervousness overwhelms me as I notice a hint of pink on Cairo's cheeks.

Oh darn, I want to die, I think dramatically.

Cairo looks away. "Well, see you tomorrow.""Ah, yes, of course! See you tomorrow," I reply, trying to hide my embarrassment behind a smile. I feel the heat rising in my face as the embarrassment grows inside me. "Thank you for today, it was... interesting," I quickly add, hoping to alleviate the strange tension that had arisen.

"Thanks to you," she says softly, her gaze warm and comforting.

With a smile on my lips, I watch Cairo walk away. Despite the day starting off badly, it ended in the best possible way.

[leclerc-hs]

the blueprint - cl16

pairing: architect!charles leclerc x coworker!reader (fem) summary: in which you and your co-worker can't help but constantly butt-heads on projects warnings: 18+! SMUT! (obvi), kinda mean!Charles, squirting, language, some French (badly translated prob) word count: 4.1k author's note: hi I absolutely LOVED writing this. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. i didn’t proofread so if there’s any typos please let me know!!! xoxo!! please let me hear your thoughts!!!! don’t be shy

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

YOU COULD’VE SWORN you’ve never been so irritated in your life. 

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, ferme ta guele for once!” Shut the fuck up. You stood in the door of Charles’s office, a crescendo of emotion echoed in your voice, almost reaching a fervent shout. Your face, now tinged with a reddish hue, reflected just how frustrated you were. 

For a little over a year, both you and Charles had been integral parts of the same company. You, an interior designer, who occasionally delved into architecture every blue moon for fun. You never got the degree for architecture, but you loved to sketch building ideas from time to time just for fun. And then there’s him, an architect, with a stick too far up his ass sometimes.

Anger painted Charles’s demeanor, evident from the subtle reddening in his ears and the clench of his jaw. With matching frustration, he strolled behind his desk, easing into his chair. His green eyes narrowed at you, a silent yet potent communication.

“Moi?” Me? His tone was incredulous at he pointed his own fingertips at him, tapping them directly into his sweater covered chest. “Porquoi tu ne le fais pas?” Why don’t you? His voice dropped lower at the end of his sentence, while he directed his fingers to now point at you. 

You took a step further into his office, not bothering to shut the door behind you. “Tu es incroyable!” You’re unbelievable! The sarcasm dripped off your tongue as you ran a hand through your hair, your chest slightly heaving up and down. 

To which, Charles only smirked at, ignoring your sarcasm, and responded with a cocky “J’ai beaucoup entende cela.” I’ve heard that a lot. 

The memory of the initial cause of the argument had become hazy but it was likely that it stemmed from the inherent clash that seemed inevitable whenever the two of you worked together on a project. The two of you were constantly perplexed by the company’s decision to consistently pair you two together, especially because it was not a secret that you didn’t get along. However, the undeniable reason might be rooted in the remarkable success followed. Almost every building, house, or structure designed by the both of you stood out as some of the company’s best creations.

Charles couldn’t help but trace his eyes along every crevice of your face while you ranted on. He honestly wasn’t even listening as you bitched on about something you claimed he did. Instead, he was too enraptured with the way your cheeks reddened, the way your eyes narrowed at him, and the way your breasts moved with every exclamation you made. Because really, he is still a man after all and the tight button up shirt you wore was almost sinister. Like seriously, he could’ve sworn the buttons were about to pop open with each breath you took.

“Mon dieu! Even now, you’re still not listening!” You noticed the distant look in Charles’s eyes as he leaned back into his chair. It was like he was looking at you, but not at you. 

You snapped your fingers repeatedly, leaning over the desk, your breasts even more in Charles’s face now. He swore it took everything in him to look at your face, and not your perky breasts dangling in front of him.

“What?”

You stormed out of his office immediately with a loud groan. You didn’t see him for the rest of the day.

-

“Mamma mia,” Oh my god. Charles exclaimed to no one except himself as he stood tall, his hands tapping the sides of the heavy machine before him. It felt like an eternity, although it had only been about 5 minutes. The matter at hand was perfecting the model of his latest project, but the 3-D printer seemed to be malfunctioning. 

Taking a step back, he began to stare at the machine as if it were his enemy, one hand rested on his hip. A million thoughts ran through his mind as to what could possibly be wrong with the machine. No matter how many times he tried, the layers seemed to be separating far too much, deeming each piece of his model printed earlier as garbage.

The fragrance of sandalwood, laced with a subtle sweetness of vanilla, announced your presence before he could even lay eyes on you. The warm and captivating scent enveloped him, much like it always did. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger in annoyance that he knew it was you without even having to turn around. Without turning his head, he spoke up, catching your attention abruptly.

“Sais-tu comment réparer cela?” Do you know how to fix this?

It was one of the rare occasions when he addressed you without any trace of hatred in his words.  Your mouth hung slack in surprise, and you almost felt the need to rub your eyes in disbelief at the fact there was no back-handed comment involved.

For a few moments, you just stared at the back of his head. Unable to understand why he was even asking for your help in the first place. When he got impatient of waiting for a response, he spun his body around, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and eyes pointed at you. 

“Hm?” Snapping out of your surprise, you urged him to continue, seeking clarification on what he was referring to. Charles couldn’t help but take note of the tight black jumpsuit that you wore, a black and gold belt cinched at your waist. He felt his heart pound in his chest just a little bit more than normal at the accentuation of your curves as you stepped in front of him, acknowledging the curve of your ass before him.

“It, uh..” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed away his thoughts of your ass. You turned to look at him, waiting for him to finish his words. His cheeks slightly tinted pink as he offers a sheepish smile to you, “it keeps separating the layers too much.”

You nodded your head slowly, “Je déteste quand ça fait ça.” I hate when it does that. You quietly agreed with him, before playing with some of the buttons on the machine. Without any luck of fixing it on your own, your eyes lit up like a light bulb as you remembered Josh, one of your other co-workers, solved this issue before.

“Let me get Josh!” You uttered the name with such excitement that Charles felt an involuntary growl building within him. Josh, a fellow architect at the firm, seemed uncomfortably close to you for Charles’s liking. Not that he cared or anything, but few things irked him more than witnessing you and Josh together in the office like two peas in a pod. The way Josh shamelessly flirted with you constantly only added to his irritation. Not that he liked you or anything, but that didn’t mean he hasn’t thought about shoving you face down over his desk and stuffing you full of his cock. Or that he hasn’t thought of you pressed against the windows of his office, your bare chest against the glass as he slips his cock into your wet folds. Or that he hasn’t thought about shoving his cock so deep into your throat just to get you to be quiet sometimes. 

It was like the flip of a switch, Charles’s irritation pouring out of him, as he spontaneously stomped away from the printing room. Trudging back to his office, leaving you behind in confusion. The last thing he wanted to see was you and Josh fixing something for him.

-

“She’s such a fucking know it all,” Charles groans to a group of his co-workers, bringing the neck of the beer bottle to his lips before taking a swig. His eyes have been following your every move since you stepped foot in the banquet hall tonight.

 It was the 42nd annual office party, which may sound boring at first, but it always ends up with some chaotic story. Last year it was Jane, one of the executive assistants, who got way too drunk she vomited right by the CEO’s feet. The year before that it was Nick, a man who is part of the custodial staff, who went almost too crazy on the dance floor that he knocked a handful of people down and resulted in multiple broken glasses around the place. All in all, the office party is usually the opposite of a bore.

And tonight, Charles decides that it’s definitely not a bore when he spots your outfit for the night. Charles doesn’t miss the curve of your ass as your back faces him, or the fact that Josh’s hand rests lightly against the small of your back either.

You’re dressed to kill tonight. A long silky black gown rests tightly against your skin, aside from the bottom that fans out much like a mermaid tail. The neckline wraps around your neck much like a scarf, a long tail of it falling at your side. 

Charles was so focused on Josh’s hand on you, that he didn’t even hear his co-workers speaking to him until they shoved his shoulder lightly.

“Dude, do you like her or something?”

“Or something.” Charles said with such disgust and hatred laced in his voice. “I don’t know why I always have to get paired with her.” He finished his beer in a hasty speed as you head towards the bar, excusing himself from his friends as he made his way to the same area.

The grip he had on the neck of the empty bottle was so tight, it was close to breaking in the palm of his hand. He leans against the bar, staring straight ahead as he waits for the bartender to acknowledge him.

“What’s got you all wound up?” Sandalwood and Vanilla.

He turns his head, to you and a smiling Josh at your side. He wants to roll his eyes almost immediately. What he would give to be able to punch him right in the face for even being able to touch you. He doesn’t bother to respond to you, turning his head back to the bar.

He’s sick in the head, honestly. He knows he approached the bar only to be closer to you but then ignores you as soon as you’re near. To get some glimpse of you. To smell you. To hear your voice. 

You hate the rejection. No matter how much he grinds your gears, you always try to be polite. You don’t want to argue with him. It’s honestly exhausting to stay arguing with him almost every day. On your first day of work, you actually thought you could be friends, until he opened his mouth and rudely dismissed you. It only made you work harder.

Charles got his drink and made his way back to his group of ‘friends’. He didn’t look at you the rest of the night.

At least until you both crossed paths outside the venue. Josh had left earlier in the night due to not feeling well, leaving you alone, with no jacket, as you tried to call for a ride home. 

Charles’s hands were shoved in the pockets of his dress pants as he approached you, awaiting for the valet to pull his car around. “Where is your jacket?” He questioned, simply curious.

“Why do you care?” You remarked back, a hint of annoyance in your voice. “You ignored me earlier and now you want to talk to me?” 

Charles felt his patience wearing thin, especially at the sight of the goosebumps all over your skin and the chatter of your teeth between each word you spoke. Your nipples were rock hard, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Charles. He felt the blood rush to his cock as his eyes quickly glanced at them. 

He rolled his eyes before shoving his suit jacket off and tossing it over your shoulders. “Can’t have my partner getting sick.” He began, “The project is due too soon for you to call out.” He pulled the excuse out of his ass. Because really, how was he supposed to say that he cared? That he cared about the woman he’s an absolute dick too.

You wanted to argue, he could see the detest in your eyes, but you snuggled into the jacket anyways. Appreciating his gesture and the warmth of the jacket.

The valet pulled his car up, opening the door for Charles, to which Charles handed him a crisp bill for fetching the car for him. You stood on the sidewalk, Charles’s jacket swallowing your body whole, a small breeze blowing the front pieces of your hair off your face. You looked beautiful, and Charles’s knew it was a complete lie if he said other.

“Get in,” He motioned the passenger door open, not bothering to wait for your response before he grasped your small forearm and ushering you into the seat. The car smelt just like him. A smell you wanted to bury yourself in, regardless how annoying he was.

Charles wove through the streets at a leisurely pace, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his knee. The radio volume was low, playing a song you couldn’t remember the name of, as you stared out the window and directed Charles to your home.

He wanted to argue that he knows where it is. That he’s already been there before because one time he went to check on you because you didn’t show up to work without calling in (which was very abnormal). That it’s the building right next to his. But he doesn’t say it and just lets you direct him anyways, just so he can hear your voice a little more. He was greedy when it came to you.

Within a few minutes, he pulled in front of your building, placing the car in park and unbuckling his seat belt. You sat silently after unbuckling your own seatbelt, trying to decipher his mood. You never knew what mood you were going to get, but most of the time it was annoyance and anger.

You turned to look at him and your eyes instantly met with his, as he was already looking at you. “Merci.” Your words were soft as you spoke, reaching for the door handle, he stopped you.

“You should dress warmer,” His lips lifted into a small grin, “It’s too cold and I can’t handle this project without you.”

Although it was work related, it was probably the closest compliment you’ve ever received from him. If you wanted to count it as a compliment. You felt your cheeks turn pink at his confession. Who are you? You don’t blush at Charles Leclerc. The architect with a stick up his ass. The guy who grates your every nerve. The guy who is undeniably hot and smells so good, you think about it more often than you want to admit.

“I’ll remember that.” Your hand goes to reach for the car door handle, but he stops you. His muscular arm stretches across your lap, grabbing the door and holding it in place from opening. He’s now practically stretched across the small space of the car, his scent enveloping you, the warmth of his body heating you right up. A small smirk formed on Charles lips as he noticed how flustered you were getting towards his proximity.

“Are you and Josh dating?” It was a simple question, but the words felt like acid on his tongue. You couldn’t help but notice the displeased look on his face as he straightens his body, providing more space between the two of you.

Your eyes widened in shock before muttering a quick, “No!” You coughed slightly, almost choking on your shock. 

“Bien.” Good.  Was all he said, before unlocking the doors, giving you the go ahead to get out of the car. It was when you were about three steps from the car door that he rolled down the window and said, “You can return the jacket at work.”

-

It’s today, that Charles decides he has had it up to here. If he must witness Josh’s fingers graze your skin one more time, he swears he will combust. So, to make himself feel some relief of his anger, he starts a fight with you. Naturally.

“It’s a shitty plan and even you know it!” 

Honestly, it is a shit plan. And Charles knows that it’s a shit one too, but he would never admit that to you. Not when he is this pent up over fucking Josh. Not when it gives him an excuse to spend more time with you.

Which is what led you into his office, the clock nearing midnight, as you both are sprawled (as much as you can be) around his desk. The current plans of the project are scattered everywhere and not one other person, beside the both of you, are within the offices floor.

Your hair had made its way into a clip, leaving your neck uncovered and exposed. Charles’s found himself often staring at the nape of your neck when you weren’t looking. His desire to litter marks all over it was growing with each second that he spent in your proximity. Sandalwood and Vanilla.

“Is there a reason you’re always so mean to me?”

The words caught him completely off guard as he lifted his pencil, leaning back in his chair to face you more. You looked beautiful, like always. He could feel the burn in his chest as the words left your lips.

He was silent for a moment. Contemplating if he’s supposed to tell you that he’s mean to you because he doesn’t know how to act around you. That he’s mean to you because he wants to fuck you so badly, it consumes his every thought. That he’s mean to you because you are mean to him too.

“You’re not innocent either,” He remarks. His eyes shifting back to the drawing in front of him. Honestly, the plans weren’t looking much better but you both refused to give up.

You nodded your head slowly in agreement. You couldn’t deny that sometimes you were snippier towards him for no reason. It probably had to do with the fact that almost every week since you met, you’ve had to use your vibrator to the thought of him to ease the burn in your stomach just enough to get through the day.

You both didn’t know what it was about each other. You got under each other’s skin like no other.

And it wasn’t until he brought his eyes back to you, green meeting yours, that he noticed the dilation in your pupils. He could no longer pretend that he didn’t want you. It was killing him.

His hand grasps the back of your neck in a tight grip, asserting his dominance, as he pulls you into him. Your lips smashing into each other. He wasted no time before slipping his tongue directly into your mouth, moaning in the process as you let him in with such ease.

Your taut nipples poked through fabric of your bralette underneath the silk top you wore. Charles kept one hand on the back of your neck, pressing you into him, while the other slipped into the buttoned shirt, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

He groaned hotly into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of your breast, something he’s always wanted to do.

You crawled your way into his lap, the short skirt riding up your waist as you straddled his lap in the desk chair. You grinded against his thigh, moaning into his mouth. He swallowed every moan you gave, his hands eventually sliding down to your hips and guiding your movement.

“You drive me fucking crazy, chérie.” He spoke the words in between kisses, the sentence sounding broken as your tongue swirled around his.

“Are we really doing this?” You pulled away, unable to stop the motion of your hips as you stared at him. His hair was in complete disarray, lips swollen from kissing you so hard, and his eyes were half-shut like he was drunk off of your kisses.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he places his hands onto the backside of your thighs and lifted you as he came to a stance, placing you directly on the edge of his desk before him.

You both were frantic, ripping off each other’s clothes as fast as you could in between the wet, hot open-mouthed kisses. It wasn’t long before you were almost completely nude, aside from the mini skirt bunched above your waist, and sprawled along his desk with his hard cock stretching the velvet walls of your pussy with a delicious burn. His thumb pressed tiny but firm circles on your swollen clit, leaving you delusional on his desk.

His lips trailed all over your body. They moved from the spot right below your ear, to the underside of your jaw, up to the corner of your mouth.

“Feel so fucking good, chérie.” He groaned. His hips moving at a fervent pace, you don’t think you would last much longer, especially with his hot words whispered into the shell of your ear.

He pulled away from you for a moment, just to stare at how fucked you were. Your hair was no longer in a clip, seeing as he pulled it out of your hair and tossed it across his office just mere minutes ago. Your cheeks and chest were flushed, and the bounce of your tits almost had him cumming on the spot.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” He confesses. The words jumbling off his lips as he ruts against you, the large wooden desk pushing forward with each powerful thrust of his hips into you. The office walls echoed your moans, you were practically screaming in pleasure for the entire world to hear.

You nodded your head repeatedly, unable to form the words, too drunk off the feeling of his cock pressing against the very spot that ached the most for him. Because you too, wanted this for so long.

“Yeah?” He smugly asks. “You wanted this too?” He slows his hips down, but it doesn’t lessen the effect of just how good his cock feels against you. Your walls are clamped around him tightly, not wanting to let him go.

“Mhm,” you groaned. “Needed this so bad….needed you” You words were almost incoherent as he spits directly onto your clit, his thumb now speeding up the little circles he’s been doing all this time.

He had to pinch his eyes shut at the confession, almost sending him to release his cum right into you. “Mon dieu,” His voice grumbles, reverberating in his chest as he leans over your body on the desk, trailing his tongue and sucking on your nipple.

“I’m gonna,” you begin. “fuck, fuck,” It takes a few seconds of Charles sucking on your nipple before the burn deep in your stomach completely takes over, sending your legs spasming around his waist. Your orgasm was explosive and wet. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced this before as you squeeze around Charles’s cock so tightly, he feels like he can barely move his cock. 

“Fucking, mmm,” He can barely get full sentences out as you squirt all over his cock and onto the papers of his desk. “That’s a good girl,” He stands up tall, watching you thrash around on his desk, and the now soaked plans beneath your body.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Feels so fucking good”

“So fucking beautiful”

“Does my cock feel as good as you feel to me?” 

With a few more mumbled phrases spewing out of Charles’s lips, his own orgasm hits him, as he pulls out quickly, his hot cum landing directly across your stomach in a gooey string.

You both were panting, unable to form words as he collapses his chest down onto you. The ability to stand lost on him as his pants rest at his ankles. Your chests move in sync as you catch your breaths, Charles’s cum pressed to both of your skin.

“Looks like we need to re-do the plans again.” Charles jokes which quickly earns a soft chuckle from your lips in response.

[itsangelll]

"𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒" ღ

pairings: 2008 Tom x f!reader

warnings:THIS IS NOT PROOF READ I apologise for any spelling mistakes. Eating out Dom!tom sub!fem!reader praising

A/n: finally another fic posted 😭 I hope you enjoy <33

You were going to one of Tokio hotels meet and greets, they announced it months ago and you've been dying to go, when you bought the ticket it felt like ages went by until the day finally came. You saw Tom sitting there, his usual beanie and cap, dreads hanging out of the back, the baggiest clothes you've ever seen.

It shocked you when you laid eyes on him. never knew a man could seriously be that gorgeous, as you waited for what seemed like ages, it was finally your go you’ve never been this nervous before in your whole entire life. You first got greeted by Bill, Gustav, then Georg, then finally it was Tom. He looked up at you his demeanour changed very quickly, his eyes softening.

“Hallo” he said in that German accent you were gonna fall (let this happen to me) but greeting you like any other fan “Hi” you smirked a tint of red showing up on your cheeks.

He was really sweet and kind of flirty, playing with his lip piercing from side to side as he looked you up and down. As you were about to leave he grabbed your hand, his hand resting on yours a soft smile spreading on his face “Here take this” He said shyly, you grabbed it and smiled brightly. You were really hoping it was his number it was! “call me sometime xo” his number was scribbled on the note.

You looked behind you seeing him one last time before you left, he caught your eye winking, before turning his attention back to another fan. You couldn’t believe it you were ecstatic you seriously got your celebrity crushes number, you felt like this was all a dream but it wasn’t. After that you guys went on a few dates chatting for hours, getting kicked out of places staying up all night with each other, sending some lewd pics to one another as well.

e seriously did care for you respecting your wishes of not doing anything sexual, cause you were nervous but you never told him the truth was you thought he wasn’t gonna enjoy it and that you’d fuck it up. After around 6 months of dating you and Tom were sitting on the couch you were scared but you wanted to.

“Tom can I talk to you about something?” turning around to face him “Mm sure schatzi what’s up?” turning his face to yours, you sucked a deep breath in finally building up the courage to talk to him about this “I’ve been thinking lately and well I’m ready” your eyes darting towards the ground he grabbed your hand “are you sure? cause we don’t need to if you are-“ “I want to.”

Interrupting him, you couldn’t even comprehend what you just said or what even got you saying this but one thing led to another, Tom grabbed your hand and led you upstairs when you guys got into your room he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close then placing his lips on yours.

Wrapping your arms around his neck your lips moulded with his, melting into his touch. You’ve never been this close with anyone before, but with Tom it felt amazing adrenaline was pumping through your veins each passing minute.

Tom pushed you softly on the bed, removing his shirt revealing his toned torso, you couldn’t help but wander your eyes around his body, “are you really sure about this?” He asked tracing circled on your thigh you nodded, He took off your shirt and skirt leaving you in your pink lace set, Tom groaned at the sight of you “you look beautiful” his tongue grazing over his bottom lip.

He hooked his fingers around the sides of your underwear softly sliding them down and throwing the piece of clothing somewhere in the bedroom, his eyes wandered down to your wet glistening cunt, “such a pretty sight” he murmured. Tom moved your legs apart giving more access, he dipped his head between your legs without any warning his tongue delved deep into your wet soaking cunt.

You couldn’t help but moan you had no idea he could be so good at this, “Fuck Tom yes please just like that” your hand tangling in his hair he let out a groan of satisfaction, he attacked your clit kissing and sucking showing no signs of stopping your head was spinning your eyes starting to go glossy from the pleasure.

His hands gripped at your thighs bound to leave marks tomorrow, he moved his tongue up and down between your folds hitting that g spot repeatedly arching your back, your thighs suffocating him but he loved that feeling, he loved that he knew no one could ever get you feeling like this ever. His hand moved up to kneed your breast, your nipples hardening underneath his touch, “Fuck Liebe you taste so so good.” his voice vibrated against your cunt.

You felt pure ecstasy the way his tongue felt on your clit was amazing, the knot in stomach tightening each minute “T-Tom im close” you moaned out your legs starting to give in gripping his hair even tighter his tongue moved faster against your clit, with that you came all over his tongue. He moved his mouth once at your walls once again collecting any remaining juices.

Tom then hovered over you and pressed sloppy kisses against your neck then holding you close to him, “you did so well for me Miene Liebe I love you so much.”

A/n: another fic outt I’ll try and keep actively posting but this is not proof read and I was a bit tipsy while writing this but I hope you guys enjoyed mwah mwah bye cuties <33

Taglist:

@itsmealaiah

@tomssexdoll

@bambiwrites

@memzyyy

@madzandmore

@jadedchar

[seraphinitegames]

A but late, but it's here...The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 21/June/2024 

Was a week of checking off lots of boxes again this week!

I finished writing all the needed blurbs and tag lines for Hosted Games finally! It takes a looooong time to think about a bunch of different ways to describe the story, especially in only 45 words, 80 words, etc! But it was actually really fun breaking down what’s coming up in the story and thinking how to vaguely and mysteriously hint at it, hehe! ;D

I also took the opportunity to rewrite the big blurb for Book Four. I wasn’t completely happy with it first time around, so this was a great chance to rework that:

--

The Wayhaven Chronicles: Book Four

Time is a precious commodity.

Unfortunately, it’s a commodity you don’t have much of these days.

Keeping up with the exhausting training for your new career while balancing your deepening romance on top of juggling some kind of personal life doesn’t leave much time to relax!

But it wouldn’t be a Wayhaven story you’ve come to know without something new to add to that ever-growing pile…

Something stirs beneath the town of Wayhaven.

Something old.

Something powerful.

Something with a very keen interest in you.

-

Delve into the world of Wayhaven once more, where a new enemy is not only unleashed upon the town but unleashes its advances upon you—to your vampire lover’s chagrin.

Or if your heart has yet to find a partner…perhaps you'll succumb to the villain’s romantic attempts?

The choice is yours!

--

It’s still way too wordy, so I’ll probably work on condensing it a bit, but I love it a lot more now! :D

I also got started on Chapter Three! Like, I seriously got started on it and really slammed into that, lol!

The only thing I’m having a bit of trouble with is deciding where a certain POV should go, as I’ve decided to add in an extra Unit Bravo POV with Rebecca, but I don’t want that POV leading into another POV that isn’t the reader’s straight away…I’m not sure if that makes sense, lol! But I’m going to write it all in the order I have it planned and then see how it actually reads.

I should actually get all the way to finishing the first third of the chapter tomorrow, which includes those two POVs!

Hope you all have the most amazing weekend!

[palmettoshenanigans]

HERE'S WHY I LOVE ANDREIL SO MUCH

Their main language - one no one else seems to speak (except maybe Renee and Bee?? which would explain why Neil finds their vibes off putting and why they're the ones able to get close to Andrew like that) - is the language of Technicalities and Semantics. But here's the thing: when you speak Technicalities and Semantics, its all in the subtext and the text. But you don't assume everyone is going to be literate in text and have the wherewithal to also delve into the subtext! You can't! Because people don't really do that, at least not with the level of intention that Andrew and Neil do.

Example: "I should hope so."

Imagine this, pretend Riko is alive. He gets into a car accident, and he survives unscathed. His car takes the brunt of it. Someone during a press conference relays this to Neil and says, "But Riko is okay!"

Neil smiles, exercises the bare minimum of his PR training and says, "I should hope so."

But, notice. He said he should hope so. Not that he would hope so.

"I would hope so" means I'm suppose to hope that this person is okay according to moral standards, and I do

"I should hope so" means I'm suppose to hope this person is okay according to moral standards, but I don't

God forbid someone asks further questions about his feelings on the matter. No one would take "Technically I said-" seriously because people don't normally play that game. The technical differences between 'would' and 'should' lack relevant meaning in this context because that's a meta-level conversation and no one has time for that kind of tit for tat - except Andrew.

Let's do another one: "Did you need something?"

Someone comes up to Neil and he says, full of suspicion, "Did you need something?" They say yes and tell him their needs, then he directs them to someone who can fulfill them. But - they argue - they were asking him for help and he offered!

"No," he says, "I asked if you needed something; never said I'd be the one to do anything about it."

And that's why (in this hypothetical) Neil specifically said "Did you need something?" and not "Can I help you?" because he wasn't going to help you anyway so why offer it, even if you'd never meant to ask? Because just like he can trap someone with his words, someone else can trap him with his own words.

And as a writer whose Special Interest is Language and how it can be manipulated, I LOVE THAT!!!

An aspect of why and how Andrew and Neil fell for each other was because they both speak this language. Technicalities and Semantics. That's why Neil understood more about Tilda than Aaron. It's why Andrew understood the weight of 'Abram'. It's why "Nothing" and "I hate you" spoke more volumes to them than any soft words ever could have. It's why "Stay" was able to bring Neil back from the brink. It's why what they don't say is just as important as what they do because "never said yes" == "no" and "never said no" =/= "yes" are obvious to them but not to others!

And its why they throw their words back at each other from past encounters! Because "we both know what you said and we both know what you meant, and we both know that this applies here too and i'm going to prove it by quoting you directly, check mate now kiss me hypocrite" is their fucking LOVE LANGUAGE FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW

Listen to the actual words coming out of their mouth, pay attention to their technical meanings, and be willing to also parse the subtext, and you will be fluent in Andreil forever.

[live-laugh-lenney]

housewarming makeout - arthurtv.

hello. hello. hello.

i've been in dire need of some arthurtv content and fics and i can't seem to find very much on tumblr so i thought i'd write my own in hopes that it would help me out with all my feels.

let me know what you think.

any comments are much appreciated at the moment. thank you so much!

*

“Where’s Arthur?”

“Where’s YN?”

The two synchronised questions came from outside the storage cupboard in George Clarke’s flat where, at that moment, Arthur had YN held in the confined space between his body and the wall. Darkness swallowed them as they relied solely on the sense of touch to guide them, adding a whole new sensation deep in the tummies, never knowing where the next touch would be. His hair was tousled and sticking in all directions from the way her hands magnetised to his scalp, her ponytail having come loose with tendrils drooping down by her cheeks and catching between their lips from her lipstick which, in the backs of their minds, would be smeared across their mouths. The overshirt, pink and stripy and something that she’d paired with a white bodysuit and a pair of ripped jeans, had fallen and exposed the bare skin of her shoulder and he’d taken full advantage of that, peppering the softest kisses down the crevice of her neck and down the stretch of her collarbone. His lips were swollen from pressing kisses to the expanse of her neck, to her collarbone to her shoulder, and her chest rising and falling rapidly from the rather intense make-out session they had previously been in just seconds ago. 

His plan to leave a mark of his love coming to a halt, their eyes widening, as they realised they were being looked for after having snuck away from the housewarming party George had thrown that evening to delve into something that was a rather common occurrence for the two of them whenever they were together. 

“Arthur-” 

He shushed her, hand tight to her mouth, as he focused on listening to the muffled voices of their friends discussing their whereabouts, just centimeters from the closed door that kept them hidden from the curious eyes looking for them. One voice belonging to George Clarke and the other voice belonging to Christopher Dixon who, just a mere ten minutes ago, was in an in depth conversation with YN about a video idea he was a little skeptical over. One that she’d been happy to be a part of, if necessary, because she loved a shoot when all of them came together for something to be broadcast for a weekly video (no matter whose channel it was going on) and had fun and filmed every moment that happened - and she was all for helping her friends out.

“I only went to go and get a drink from the kitchen and she’d disappeared by the time I came back.”

“Arthur said he was going to the toilet, snuck out the room, but- but I’ve just been to check in there and no one was there.” 

“Do you-”

“Do I think they’ve finally decided to just shag? Coincidence that they both disappeared, if not.”

“George, fucking-”

She was thankful for the darkness in the cupboard as heat rose up the back of her neck and flushed over the expanse of her cheeks, taking in a deep inhale and blowing it back out, her breath hitting Arthur’s clothed shoulder on the exhale. She shuffled on her feet and the motion had her chest brushing against his, accidentally… well, that’s what she would have excused, anyway.

“YN, seriously-”

“What?”

She could feel his breath over her warm skin and she really thought he’d moved away from her in the terror of getting caught, like a deer in headlights, but he hadn’t. He was still there, the scent of his cologne and beer mixing together and making him seem even more delectable to her, and she had a longing in the depths of her belly that just wanted him more and more. A slither of hope that they would just walk away, get back into the midst of the party, and agree that the two of them would be back out when they were ready to show their faces.

But she knew that was pretty much unlikely.

Especially with Chris. Especially with George.

“Do you want to get caught?”

She shakes her head erratically but she felt sudden stupidity when she realised Arthur couldn’t see her gesture, “no.”

“The tension between the two of them tonight, man. Almost felt like we should have forced them into a room to fuck..”

His hands tightened around YN’s waist at the comment and his fingertips dug into the bare skin of her hips, pulling her closer to him, a twinge of electricity shooting up her back as she nestled closer into his front. The urge becoming too much and she let her lips attach to his neck as her fingers combed through the hair at the back of his neck, twisting the strands between her digits and giving them a gentle tug every now and then, his breathing becoming more tense. Licking up the length of his neck, tasting every inch of him, and dragging her lips, soft and gentle enough that it felt like a tickle, as she left a long line of kisses beneath his jaw. 

“Jesus, YN.”

His gentle whimpering only spurred her on, seeing just how far she could take it before enough felt like enough… challenge accepted, she thought to herself, as she kissed up to his ear and nibbled against his earlobe. 

“Do you think they know that we know they have a thing going on?”

“Honestly, they seem oblivious to what everyone else thinks. Their own world. They’re not subtle about hiding it. He practically eye-fucked her as soon as she walked through my door earlier.”

“I mean, she looked incredible tonight though.”

The conversing voices seemed to sound more and more distant as the atmosphere became more and more intense within the four walls of the cupboard. Their worries disappeared for just a moment as he grabbed her face in the palm of his hands and indulged in a kiss that really did make them forget where they were for a while. Back in his flat, both of them drunk on double whiskeys and coke, having spent the night trying to divert their eyes from one another, without a care in the world about being caught. 

They thrived on being mysterious. 

There was an underlying kink neither of them wanted to dwell on - if they had a chance of getting caught then it added to the excitement and it became a thrill of knowing their secret could be blown by the off chance of them being clumsy.

And, upon searching for a bit of leverage in the darkness to hoist her up onto, like a shelf or the top of a column of cardboard boxes that George had yet to unpack in his flat, Arthur had forgotten their drinks that they had placed on top of one of his suitcases in their haste to close the door and start something they’d been longing to do since the start of the housewarming get together. His cautious yet wandering hands knocking both his bottle of Corona and her pink gin and lemonade onto the floor, the thud causing the conversation outside to come to a halt and their bodies to freeze on the spot. 

“Shit.”

“Arthur, for fucks sake.”

“What was that?”

“Did you hear that?”

“What have you got in there? Rats, already?”

“It’s a storage cupboard. I’ve put my unpacked cases and boxes in there because I didn’t have time to pack it all away before you guys came tonight.”

And Arthur and YN didn’t need to see the faces of their friends to know that they’d clocked on. That they’d been caught, mid make-out, mid-party. YN’s head dropped to his shoulder and his head fell against hers, a heavy sigh leaving her lips as her hands dropped from around his neck and fell down to her side, stroking his arms in the process. 

“Wait-”

“We can’t go in there..”

“Why not? We need to-”

“He’s probably balls deep in her right now, George. Do you really want to see that? I don’t.”

She snorted into his shoulder and rolled her eyes, his head shaking from side to side, a smile on his own lips, hands still holding her waist. 

“We should probably face the music, right?” She whispered into the darkness, “might as well get it over and done with, embrace the awkwardness.”

“Just a little while longer? Just me and you. Once we step outside of here, we’re not a secret to them any longer. We can't sneak around after this,” Arthur responded, tightening his hold on her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, hugging her close to his body, “we’re public to those divvies after that door opens. Just wanna enjoy you, to myself, for five more minutes.”

“You two are the least subtle people I’ve ever met.”

“At least make yourselves look like you’ve not just had a quickie. I don’t want to be known as the Tiktoker who lets his mates bang in his cupboard.”

“Go away, George,” Arthur called out, a laugh muffled by the door filling the awkward silence, “fuck.”

*

-- ynyln just posted --

YNYLN; happy housewarming @georgeclarkeey !! always the best time when celebrating with these lot. heads pounding this morning. all the fucking love, guys. xx georgeclarkeey  thank you for being there. always the best time celebrating when you’re around, lovely. even if you did go for a make-out sesh in my storage closet. and spilled beer all over my possessions.

arthurnfhill I'm simply amazed they haven't clocked on that we know what's happening. -> ynyln we do now. -> arthurtv @ylyln It was fun whilst it lasted. -> ynyln @arthurtv damn. i loved our time together. -> arthurtv @ynyln At least we can kiss in public now. Want one? -> ynyln @arthurtv come over now then... doors open. -> arthurnfhill Please don't flirt in my replies.

chrismd10  i mean, you spent most of your time celebrating with a game of tonsil tennis whilst the rest of us where celebrating with a game of with beer pong… 👀

fan01  make-out session? in a storage closet? you go, girl!

arthurtv  Somehow, house parties always end with you spilling my drink. You owe me. → ynyln  you owe me a drink, too. → georgeclarkeey  you owe me a new suitcase. and new clothes. and my carpet needs cleaning. → ynyln  @georgeclarkeey i’m sorry. :((( → arthurtv  @georgeclarkeey I take full responsibility. My fault. → chrismd10  @arthurtv always your fault. for being so god damn irresistible, am i right? 😉

fan02  hold on for a damn minute.. spilling their drinks, ‘tonsil tennis’, george's possessions getting soaked in beer, a make-out session in a closet… i’m not sherlock or anything but… are we getting boyfriend!arthur content?

fan03  i’m telling you now, yn and arthur will be together by the end of the year. i’m getting the whole boyfriend-girlfriend vibe just through this interaction.

fan04 they've all just soft-launched arthur and yn being 'together' and i am HERE FOR IT.

fan05 we love a duo who promote secret shag sessions. gotta do what you gotta do.

*

if you got this far, thank you so much for reading!

please let me know what you think of this story. not the best when it comes to thinking up ideas so it would mean a whole lot to me if you left your comments and reblogged to help spread it.

it's my first fic i've written in a long, long while so i really hope it'll help get me back in the game. i really want to start being here more regularly.

ask box is always open so don't hesitate to send anything in, day or night. x

[natalyarose]

𝓛𝓾𝓷𝓪𝓻 𝓝𝓪𝓴𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓼 - 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓶𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓮 🌙

Originally, I was going to do a short write-up on one character who's Nakshatras made sense to me, but this turned into an extensive piece on the mystical, mysterious nature of Moon ruled Nakshatras lol. I hope this is enjoyed & without further ado, ima delve into this. 💕

Now to put it plainly, Moon ruled Nakshatras are lunatics. I'm allowed to say it lol, but seriously. Lu-na-tics. but that's okay! In fact, it's great; a bit of lunacy is an asset in art & anything that requires outside of the box thinking. The Moon is often associated with purity; but in a sense to be pure is to welcome any and all whims & emotions without judgement.

Running into the wild ocean at 3am solely because you felt like it? Okay! (my Shravana stellium mum lol), frolicking in the woods with no rhyme or reason? Sure! Making daisy chains and thinking about chai lattes lol (Moon = milk, lunar people often love milk drinks) instead of focusing on your assignment? Yup. Dating some guy who's known to be trouble because you 'feel there's something more to him'? Mm..

The Moon rules over all that is mystical, whereas Mercury rules over the cerebral realm. This is why Ashlesha tends to be a very mystical Nakshatra- it's placed within Cancer (Moon ruled) but is a Mercurial Lunar Mansion. In Ashlesha, there is a union between unexplainable intuition & sharp intellect. It is said that Ashlesha natives if they apply their focus correctly, would be the first to uncover the secrets of our world.

The Moon is a blank canvas; readily available for anybody to project their energy onto. Moon seldom clings to an identity or persona, it just 'is'.

in Rohini, there is this sense of 'nakedness' & a lot of vulnerability. Themes of unbridled imagination, sensitivity, pleasure seeking & creativity come through, and there is a lack of boundaries being lunar yet co-ruled by Venus; a planet pertaining to relationships. Rohini really needs some form of external structure, but at the same time thrives on lunar fluctuation and instability. It is why the creativity in Rohini is so immense and there is constant growth.

In Hasta, we see the co-rulership of Mercury, being in Sidereal Virgo. Hasta is where the Moon realises that it is not always safe to be completely receptive and vulnerable, therefore becomes shrewd and learns to be a little more pragmatic & purposeful in the way they express themselves. For this reason, you'll find Hasta slightly less represented in this 'wild feminine' archetype exploration, though some Hasta natives still very much embody this energy. Hasta; similarly to Ashlesha focuses on being conservative & logical in the face of internal lunar fluctuation.

In Shravana, we see lunar energy matured- the co-rulership of Saturn provides the structure, discipline and boundaries the Moon needs to thrive. I find that while Rohini is very maternal & associated with motherhood, I tend to see Shravana as THE mother. The stability Saturn provides makes for this ability to nurture & listen but still instil some sort of routine or restriction, which is necessary in motherhood. A friend of mine noticed that Saturn Nakshatras (think of Pushya, the other Moon-Saturn Nakshatra) are strongly represented in themes of motherhood due to the fact that children thrive when there is (gentle) but definitive limitation. Rohini's style of nurturing is very free form and full of sweetness & virtually zero judgement.

The beauty of lunar people really shows in how comfortable they are with change. I've noticed Moon ruled people retain their youth and tend to age very beautifully partially because they are so in tune with feminine cycles and are not as resistant to change. This isn't surprising as Moon is connected to the face & traditionally holds associations with fertility and youth. Moon Nakshatras embrace flow, embrace change, so they move into every phase of life with grace.

Random note: I've always suspected this but I just saw this on TikTok the other night to confirm- research shows that people who have a lot of pimples or oily skin, tend to age much better due to that extra oil. As mentioned, Moon rules the face & also relates to water- I've noticed & it has been written that people with prominent Moon influence will be more susceptible to acne & weight fluctuations due to the water/fluid connection. A lot of people who age remarkably well tend to have a Moon Nakshatra somewhere (and people who look older even from a young age are often Saturnian; Saturn Nakshatras falling opposite to Moon).

A lot of people mistake lunar individuals for being 'dumb' and ditzy, but there is a certain wisdom in the madness as you will find in the examples I'm using today :)

𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓎𝓈𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝒜𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝐸𝓁𝒾𝓏𝒶𝒷𝑒𝓉𝒽, '𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉' - 𝑅𝑜𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒾 𝒮𝓊𝓃, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒶 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝓃

I watched 'The Great' a while back and I couldn't get over how strongly the actress; Belinda Bromilow portrayed Rohini energy! I looked up her chart after watching, & as per Galactic Center mid-mula ayanamsa she is indeed a Rohini Sun native, likely with Hasta Moon; only amplifying the lunar influence.

There are many reasons, but what really tipped me off was how as a character, despite being an 'older woman' she really comes across so youthful and full of this magical, fanciful zest for life. I also find her gorgeous!!

I ADORE her character, she is so funny & light without deviating from the overall intensity of the show.

In 'The Great', Aunt Elizabeth is this 'strange', mystical, offbeat woman with a lot of unconventional wisdom. She's a woman who talks to butterflies and other creatures, has all of these 'wacky' witch-esque remedies that work, and has no shortage of odd, seemingly random one liners that often veil deep metaphors.

She often would be seen in the show comforting the main characters & acting as a trusted, empathetic maternal figure/guide. Simultaneously, she was viewed as somewhat insane & often used that perception to her advantage (her Hasta Moon reflecting the calculated side of Moon). Her character is extremely loving, able to look past the faults of others and show softness and compassion to people considered 'unlovable'. One of her notable roles as a character being Peter's (the barbaric Emperor who reigns with cruelty's) aunt who was really more of a maternal figure to him than his real mother, who was cruel much like himself.

She's in a sense, everyone's comfort, the woman in everyone's ear (very Serpent yoni too).

Aunt Elizabeth doesn't condone or necessarily agree with Peter's evil actions, but she has this beautiful way of seeing the little boy in him and nurturing him no matter what (Rohini's combination of Moon & Venus creates a person who is capable of seeing the beauty in everything & everyone).

There is another strong plot point pertaining to her child who sadly drowned. I've noticed in media, Moon women tend to have strong plots related to their love for other people (children, spouses, etc.) not because they don't stand strong on their own, but because Moon women naturally devote to their loved ones.

Throughout the show, Aunt Elizabeth has this gentle persuasion that subtly influences the characters in profound ways. I've seen talk recently of Moon Nakshatras being manipulative, and in a way they most definitely are (for better or worse). The same way the Moon pulls on the tides & pulls the attention of humans & animals alike.

Hasta's more shrewd nature shows in Elizabeth's surprising ability to scheme and commit dark acts in order to achieve a bigger goal- even though the Rohini energy gives her this energy of being very kooky, 'off with the fairies' character.

Moon's manipulation can be very much this subtle, almost subliminal feminine influence. It reminds me of the saying, 'behind every powerful man is a woman'; meaning that a man who is powerful never stands alone. He never got there without the love, or at least the influence of a woman. Behind him there is a woman who nurtures him (be it his mother in childhood or his wife), subtly influences him, lifts his spirits, etc. Even if not, the fact of him even incarnating and being born in the first place is the work of a woman.

A memorable moment from the series that strikes me as very indicative of Moon Nakshatras tendency towards intense emotions & strong sensitivity is when Elizabeth is sitting in the carriage after witnessing the gruesome affects of the war in their region. She is eerily quiet on the trip home, until suddenly she calmly requests for the carriage to stop. She proceeds to get out of the carriage, and scream & thrash around intensely as catharsis for the pain & anger she felt for the horror she'd just witnessed. :(

More on Elizabeth, there is also this aspect of the story where she is a sort of nymphomaniac lol, having many lovers of any age/gender (Rohini doesn't discriminate lmao) and is forever tragically in love with her deceased lover Peter the Great (Peter's father). Peter the Great was a womaniser, but in a sense Elizabeth was his 'true love' which reminds me of Rohini's mythology being 'the favourite wife of the Moon'. He had many lovers and a great deal of power, but Elizabeth was the closest he had to a true love.

Elizabeth was shown multiple times to be very psychic- an example of this being her 'feeling it' & having a vision the moment Peter died.

In summary, this character is just such a glaring example of what an abundance of lunar energy manifests like (for better and for worse since she is a very multifaceted character). Speaking of which, the word 'multifaceted' in itself always makes me think of the Moon. The Moon has many faces/phases.

𝑀𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒩𝒶𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝓎, 𝑀𝓎𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝓇 '𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒'

A lot of public figures who have a pronounced reputation for being 'witchy', strange or mysterious/disconcerting/charmingly bizarre will have a prominent Moon ruled Nakshatra in their chart. Lunar people can really embody the archetype of being 'insane' or random. but lovable all in the same.

Kate Bush, Shravana Moon (Ashlesha Sun) I may do an independent post on Kate Bush's placements, but she is such a staple example of Moon Nakshatras & the 'wild feminine' witchy, strange but beautiful energy. Her music & music videos are full of symbolism, often pulling inspiration from obscure ideas and stories. Some people find her a bit 'weird', especially men but just as many women and men alike adore her. Very mleccah (outcaste) Nakshatra vibes. People are either inexplicably drawn to her and enchanted, or find her 'creepy'. ~I'll note that Kate is extremely Mercury influenced too, hence the much rounder face than the examples you'll see. Moon people tend to have rounded faces, but they are typically a bit longer than Mercury and have very prominent cheekbones.

Stevie Nicks, Rohini Sun Stevie Nicks is always remarked to be a witch. She never explicitly said this, but upon the release of Fleetwood Mac's 'Rhiannon', (a very witch-y song about the Celtic Goddess herself) the witch allegations began lol. Other than that, Stevie Nicks & Fleetwood Mac have always been associated with the hippy/spiritual/witchy crowd.

Helena Bonham Carter, Rohini Sun Helena has been known to often play 'bizarre', witchy or macabre characters, known to work alongside Tim Burton (also a Rohini native) often. Some of these roles to note are her as the Queen of Hearts and Bellatrix Lestrange; but there are countless that speak to the lunar wild feminine archetype. Beyond that, Helena is known to have a very eccentric dress sense off screen, people often remarking that she has all this money yet chooses to still be herself and a little strange.

Alica Keys, Hasta Moon, Shravana Sun I can't think of any overtly 'witchy' or 'bizarre' associations for Alicia Keys, but I wanted to include her because I feel like her sweet emotive face and gorgeous flowing hair is very reflective of her Moon dominance. She has the 'vibe'. She's also mentioned that she has a spiritual practice in her everyday life & references the divine feminine.

James Marsden, Rohini Moon admittedly, I only know him in two movies, but in both he is playing this kinda bizarre, theatrical, childlike character very indicative of Rohini energy. In 'Enchanted' he is the dramatic, vibrant and endlessly cheerful fairytale prince who breaks into song whenever he gets the chance. In 'Hop' he is this uninspired guy who lives with his parents and can't seem to get a job or find purpose. That is until he meets the easter bunny who'd run away from 'Easter Island' and didn't want to be the easter bunny anymore. He then proceeded to become the easter bunny himself- lmao. If you know about Rohini's relationship with sweets & children (not to mention Rohini natives typically having prominent front teeth like a bunny) this movie is very on the nose.

Kylie Minogue, Rohini Sun & Pushya Asc an Aussie legend I say. Kylie is another one who always embodied this very lunar feminine mystique, she actually sort of reminds me of Marilyn Monroe (Rohini Sun) in some photos of her in her youth. The witchy, eerie, 'haunting' vibe Moon people can radiate really shines through in her enchanting murder ballad 'Where the Wild Roses Grow' with Nick Cave (a Magha native of course). A personal favourite of mine.

Teal Swan, Shravana Moon Teal Swan is a famous spiritual 'guru' who is known to have extrasensory abilities. She is a controversial figure due to strange behaviour in her past & questionable things in her personal life. Some disregard her as a narcissistic cult leader for these reasons, but in my opinion even if that were the case, two things can be true- someone can have ill intent with the knowledge they possess yet still genuinely possess that knowledge. I find a lot of her content incredibly helpful and intuitive. Credit to @makingspiritualityreal for my learning about this- you'll notice that a lot of individuals with strong Lunar influence in their chart will have very light, translucent looking eyes indicative of their receptive, psychic nature. Even if the eyes are brown, they still will have a notably 'light', reflective, soft, crystal-esque quality. We see this with all of these examples, but Teal especially.

Amber Heard, Hasta Moon I was struggling to think of Hasta examples that fit this archetype since as I mentioned earlier, Hasta places a huge emphasis on gaining control over their own lunar nature. In Hasta there is less of a tendency to be 'wild and free' the way we see in Rohini & Shravana. However, I still see in Amber Heard's infamy a different expression of the lunar witchy lunacy. A lot of people regard her nature as 'insane', overemotional, very manipulative, bewitching people with her beauty, etc. This being said, I know I've definitely seen witchy-ish Hasta natives, I just can't think of any as readily as I can the other Moon Nakshatras.

Alanis Morrisette, Rohini Sun Just another woman in music who radiates that lunar, wild feminine, raw emotional energy. If you listen to her song 'You Oughta Know' and see the emotionally chaotic, passionate music video, you'll absolutely see what I mean!

Tori Amos, Hasta Moon another witch-esque phenomenal alternative artist. I just remembered to include her!! She's perfect for this list. Listen to 'Cornflake Girl'. and once again you'll see the lunar, feminine energy. Shania Twain & Kate Winslet are two more Hasta natives I thought of who embody this energy, but I can't add anymore pics to the post :(

It's worth noting that Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Alanis Morissette and some other artists are often piled together and referred to as being similar in 'vibe'. Mysterious, feminine, emotional, mystical, etc. I'd venture to guess that other artists in the same sort of creative realm have Moon ruled Nakshatras.

I just thought of Bjork, another artist who is compared to ones mentioned. She is Swati Moon, with Rahu in Rohini as the lord of her Moon!

One last thing I want to mention, is I've noticed that Moon women can sometimes be viewed as 'anti feminist' by other women despite the fact that a lot of the time, healthy Moon women are extreme symbols of feminine strength and courage to be womanly & emotionally vulnerable. It's kinda like some people see the beauty, the softness, the emotion and picture a girl flouncing around in frilly dresses catering to men. Needless to say, a shallow and ironically anti-feminist conclusion. That being said, lunar receptivity can definitely make Moon influenced women prone to doing a lot to cater to men, but I think it's a mistake to miss the wisdom in the 'frilliness' and fanciful nature of lunar natives.

Anyway as always, I could write forever, this one was super fun to do :) noticing and dissecting these patterns is such a magical thing.

I hope this was interesting to someone, lots of love! 💞💞💞

[lucysarah-c]

I would like you very much to talk about the girlfriend effect on Levi's fashion

The man has zero sense on it it's actually hurt

The way I squealed when I read this ask. I was like that TikTok sound of “OH MY GOODNESSI LOVE THIS QUESTION! I THINK..!”

*Deep sigh* Anon, you're absolutely right; it's time we face the truth about Levi's sense of style – it's hideous. Have you witnessed those panels of him in the Uprising arc with a T-shirt on top of a long-sleeve shirt? I mean, seriously, it's like, "You're lucky I adore you, Levi…"

Now, let's establish some basics. We can't delve into the "girlfriend effect" without first acknowledging Levi's life as a man. I hate to break it to many of us, but Levi is, indeed, a man – raised by Kenny, no less. Levi values cleanliness and practicality. To sum up Levi's approach to broad topics: cheap, pragmatic, and straightforward. The only exceptions to this rule are tea and cleaning. Levi grew up in poverty, so he won't waste a single penny on face cream, even if you harass him. As an example, there's a "game" that was only available, I believe, in Japan, that had side stories, and Levi literally told Erwin he wasted too much money on "pointless" stuff like hair pomade…

Levi doesn't buy much furniture, treats for his body, clothes – anything, really. I'd even venture to say he might get some of his clothes from donations. He saves his money for tea… and tea sets.

And here's where the girlfriend comes into the picture. It starts subtly; she spends a night in his personal chambers and suggests bringing in new pillows, curtains, furniture, scented candles, and bathroom appliances for her stuff. Then the full transformation happens.

Levi, pale as ever, refuses to wear sunscreen like any man would. “I'm trying to look after you!" she would insist while running her hand through his face; he's not pleased. He hates the sticky feeling, but it's just the beginning. He pretends to dislike it, but he falls asleep so easily when his face is on her legs, and she's giving him a face massage with a full face glam, mask, and gua sha.

"You have to use it like this, against the hair movement, to create volume so your hair doesn't stick to your scalp," she says, applying molding wax to his hair to give it more volume. Skincare routine? Check. Lip balms? Check. Hairstyles? Check. Personal chambers now looking comfy and homey? Double-check.

And finally, the clothes. He's against it at first, always in uniform, so why bother? But she explains how proportions and colors can make him look taller, and he's tempted to tell her he doesn't care. However, her puppy eyes beg him to wear what she chose.

The result? Levi, who once dressed like a pre-teen from the 2000s, transforms into a model. The LOOKS? He goes out with the vets for a few beers on a day off, and MPs are turning around; even Erwin is surprised. He's supposed to be the high maintenance of the group, not Levi! This transformation becomes the main giveaway that Levi is dating. Glowing skin, glass-like complexion, perfectly cut and smooth hair with ideal volume.

The cherry on top? Suddenly, he's taking days off, going out more, and knows a lot about which restaurants are "not that bad," all while dressing like a Vogue cover.

The only disadvantage? Now he has his pockets full of lip glosses, napkins, hand cream, etc. Women's clothes don't have pockets. How is he supposed to explain to the MPs when they ask for a pen, and he pulls out a pink, glittery lip gloss from his pocket? Not everything is an upside.

I ADORED this question! I hope the answer is somehow what you had in mind! Thank you so so much for sending this.

I hope you and your loved ones are doing great today and stay safe!

Lots of love!

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @thoreeo @quillinhand @humanitys-strongest-bamf Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[bitchesuntitled]

Some Broken Hearts Never Mend

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!actress reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of drugs, pregnancy, lovers to enemies, angst angst angst

A/N: Huge thank you to @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for helping me with this! ❤️ I don’t usually do angst but trying to play around with it and I needed the practice. This is for @tightjeansjavi's June Writing Challenge. Also tagging @jay-zzle because she is my permanent cheerleader

Masterlist||AO3

divider by: @saradika-graphics

The lights are flashing everywhere, hearing your name and Dieter’s being shouted left and right. Where to look, what to do, you love sharing this moment with him, watching his smile beam as the congratulations are being shouted out.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Dieter whispers in your ear with a smile, rubbing the bump of your belly.

Paparazzi is shouting out excitedly, seeing you two together along with your prominent bump on display. You both kept this news under wraps until you couldn’t hide it anymore. It’s too hot in the summer to try wearing the oversized hoodies you’d been wearing all spring. It was decided between both of your teams that the best thing for an announcement was to show up to Dieter’s premier with a dress that would show off your bump, letting the world know that Dieter Bravo was about to take on the most important role of his life - a family man.

“Dieter! Dieter over here!” You see Adam from Entertainment Tonight waving you both down.

You nudge Dieter, motioning towards the host, and make your way over for the first interview of the night.

“Hey guys! I’m just so excited to see you two! Wow,” Adam says your name, “You look absolutely glowing. Is there maybe a reason why?” he teases.

“Well, I don’t know,” you laugh, shrugging your shoulders, “Babe?”

“Hmm…” Dieter says, rubbing your bump, “I think because you’re having my baby?”

“I can’t believe it! First, you get this man sober, and now,” Adam says with an amusing smirk, “You’ve gotten him to have a baby with you?”

“She’s a witch!” Dieter exclaims with a massive grin, “I swear. She put me under some sort of spell!”

The interview went on for a little longer, delving into Dieter’s role and how he prepared for the movie. Interview after interview, the baby was brought up.

What are you hoping for? Boy or girl? Healthy.

Have you thought of any names? Yes, but not sure yet.

Do you know what the sex is? We want it to be a surprise.

The same questions were asked repeatedly until it was time to go inside the theater.

—

“Hey babe, I’m gonna be going out, hanging with some friends,” Dieter says, waltzing into the living room with his phone and keys. You pause the TV, scooting to the edge of the couch. “You don’t need to get up.”

“What friends?” You ask concern etched on your face. It always makes you nervous when he is going to hang out with friends solo. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Dieter, it was just that he’s had his fair share of relapses.

“Sam, Claudia, and Percy.”

You make a disgusted face as soon as Percy’s name is mentioned. Sam and Claudia, you trust. Percy, you do not.

“Babe,” Dieter starts, “I know you don’t like the guy but he just got out of rehab. No drugs will be around, everything will be just fine!”

“He just got out of rehab that was court-mandated, Dieter,” you seeth, “You really think he took that shit seriously?!”

“Baby,” Dieter sighs, placing a hand on your stomach, “You gotta watch your blood pressure. Not good for Peanut.”

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

This has become your mantra lately, the doctor was getting worried about your blood pressure and stress levels. He had said that it could cause early labor. Six months along, and you needed to start paying more attention to this stuff. The last thing you want is for Peanut to come before they’re ready.

“I just don’t trust him,” you explain, “The last time you hung out with him you relapsed and went down a rabbit hole.”

“I know,” he said, head dropping, “I’m sorry. I really am, but I promise it won’t happen again. There’s not supposed to be any hard drugs, maybe some weed but that’s it.”

“Fine,” you groan, “I mean it though Dieter, you can’t have any more slip ups. Gotta think about Peanut.”

“I’m always thinking about you and Peanut,” Dieter grins, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. “I’ll behave and be home before ten.”

Dieter wasn’t home before ten, or eleven, or twelve. It was nearing two in the morning when you finally heard the front door open. Sliding your feet into your slippers and grabbing his tattered green robe to wrap yourself in, you made your way to the living room.

“Fuck,” you hear Dieter say sniffling, “What the fuck did I do?”

“Babe?” You ask, coming into the living room, Dieter slumped on the couch, “Everything okay?”

“I fucked up,” he whispers, pushing his hands against his eyes, “I promised yo-,” he chokes on a sob, “I promised you I wouldn’t and I fucked up.”

“Dieter,” you sigh, approaching the couch to sit next to him, “Look at me.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his lap, fingers twitching against his face. He looks so helpless like this. You grab his hands, and pull them into your lap.

“Babe,” you try again, “Look at me,” reaching your hand to cup his cheek, forcing him to look at you. Watery bloodshot eyes stare back at you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dieter whispers, closing his eyes, a lone tear running down his cheek, “I should’ve listened to you.”

He tells you what happened. You nod in understanding, this was just a slip-up, you can forgive him yet again. You know it was just a bad judgment call to go out tonight. He will get through this just like he has every other time.

—

“Looks like you’re doing well, baby is right on track and appears to be growing as they should,” the doctor says, looking at your chart, “Only about two more months to go and then we can start looking to induce you. I want to see you in two weeks.”

You give a small smile and nod, rubbing your bump, slinging your purse over your shoulder, willing the phone inside to buzz as you make your way to the receptionist’s desk, making small talk with her and getting your next appointment set. You thank her as you take the appointment card, sliding it into your purse as you walk out the door.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

Dieter’s been missing, three weeks to the day now, and no one can find him. His management team and assistant have been on a hunt trying to find him but of course, Dieter has gone off the grid. Last you knew paparazzi had gotten pictures of him somewhere in Europe, but that was last week. His PR team and your own told you not to look at the pictures but you couldn’t not see them when a pregnancy craving hit and you got ice cream late one night.

Dieter Bravo, Trouble in Paradise?

Sources close to the actor state he’s not ready to be a father and ran from his relationship to [redacted], fellow actress who is pregnant with Bravo’s first child.

The small article included pictures of Dieter exiting a club with one arm around a blonde woman’s shoulders and the other arm around a brunette man’s waist. The three of them were walking down the sidewalk. The final pictures in the article showed Dieter kissing both of them.

Stars has tried to reach out to each of the couple’s publicists for comment with no response at this time.

You felt your heart breaking in the middle of the checkout line. He was the one to bring up having a baby. He was the one to convince you to get pregnant. He was the one who time and time again reassured you this is what he wanted and only wanted it with you. 

You felt so stupid, like a poor pathetic girl, when everyone had warned you about him. They’d all told you so many times. Dieter Bravo is a mess. Dieter Bravo can’t be tamed. Dieter Bravo isn’t  meant for relationships. As it turns out, they were all right, and you’d just ignored every warning given to you.. Dieter had kept using after the last slip-up. What was an accident became once a week, then three times a week, and then turned to daily use. Slowly but surely you were giving up, giving up on the one person who you trusted the most.

He made you feel loved, cherished, and special. He always made you feel like no one else could compare to you or your love for each other. Now though, he makes you feel like a fool. He makes you feel like the dirt underneath his shoes. He makes you feel like… like, like—

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzzing in your purse. The number wasn’t one you recognize but you answered anyway in hopes it was Dieter.

“Hello?”

“Baby,” Dieter’s voice sounds through the phone, “I wanna come home.”

“Dieter?” you ask, “Where are you?”

“I’m at an airport in Paris,” he says sniffling, “I wanna come home.”

“Come home, please,” you beg, “Just come home.”

—

Dieter came home the following day, detox in full swing. He was shaky, sweaty, and puking, and you were staying by his side the entire time. Doubt begins to crawl into your brain, this being the fourth or fifth time you’ve helped him through detox. Is this going to be how your life plays out? Private doctors, in and out of your home like a revolving door. Make sure he’s comfortable, providing you with the necessary instructions to get Dieter through this so he doesn’t have to go to a facility again.

“I think he should consider going to rehab again,” Mark, his manager, says.

“Mark, I don’t know what else to do,” you sigh, shaking your head back and forth. “He doesn’t want to go. He told me every single hiding spot he has here at home and I went through all of them and flushed everything.”

“Just think about it, think about your baby and your own health,” Mark says firmly, “I’ve worked for Dieter for many years and this isn’t going to be the last time this happens.”

“I know,” you whisper, tears threatening to spill over, accepting defeat. You hadn’t meant to fall in this deep with Dieter if you’re being honest with yourself. It was supposed to just be a summer fling but as time went on he squirmed his way deeper and deeper into your heart, making room for himself to curl up inside, and making himself a nice little home there. It was becoming too much to handle, the stress weighing you down more as the days passed by.

If anything was going to prepare you for a newborn it might as well be this. Dieter shouts for you from the guest room in the middle of the night, waddling through the doorway you see him sprawled out on the bed. A thin sheen of sweat covers his chest, turning on the bedside lamp he winces.

“Baby,” Dieter groans, reaching out for you, sitting on the bed you give him your hand, “I love you. I love you more than anything in this world.”

“I know, D,” you murmur, the tears already threatening your waterline as he grasps your hand like it’s his only lifeline, “I know.”

“Hey,” he says perking up some, “Once I’m through with this we should go on vacation somewhere!”

“D we can’t,” you sniffle, rubbing the hand he isn’t holding onto against your nose.

“Why not?”

“Peanut,” you say, giving him a small smile.

“We’ll just take Peanut with us,” he smiles, moving one of his hands to rest on your stomach.

“That’s not really how it works, D,” you groan, “We can’t just up and leave whenever we want to. Not with Peanut.”

“Fine,” Dieter says firmly nodding, jaw going rigid, “Guess it doesn’t matter what I want to do then.”

“No,” you whisper, “It doesn’t.”

For the first time in your entire relationship, Dieter looks angry. He lets go of your hand and rolls over, his back facing you.

“Dieter,” you say softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Would you consider going back to rehab?”

Dieter doesn’t respond. When you repeat yourself he just grunts and shoves your hand off his shoulder.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

The next morning when you wake, he’s gone again. A note with his chicken scratch left on his bedside table.

You’re right. Checking into White Oak again. Things will get better. I promise ❤️

Love, D

—

It took four days. Four days for Dieter to check himself out of rehab and go missing again.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” You wail into the phone, leaving yet another voicemail on Dieter’s brand new phone, “Dieter, I need you to come home. Please. If not for me then for Peanut.”

“Fuck!” You shout, throwing your phone across the room, and beginning to pace back and forth. There is nothing you can do besides wait. Wait and hope that Dieter’s not lying in a ditch somewhere. You can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces.

You reach down, trying with all your might to grab your phone and then you feel it. A sharp pain in your groin and liquid rushing down your legs.

“Ahh!” You groan out, the pain sending you to your knees, reaching for your phone and dialing 911, waiting to be put through to a dispatcher, “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. It’s not time yet, it’s not time,” you clutch your stomach, telling the dispatcher you need an ambulance and your address.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

While you lay on the floor waiting for an ambulance to arrive the only thing you can think of is Dieter and how he should be here. You pick up your phone one more time and try calling him again.

“Hey, it’s Bravo, can’t come to the phone right now but you know what to do after the beep.” Beep.

“Dieter, I’m going into labor. An ambulance is on the way. I need you, please,” you continue through tears, “I’m so scared and I need you. Please come back. Please.”

—

It’s almost been a month since you’ve been home from the hospital. Dieter still hasn’t shown back up, has yet to meet his beautiful baby in person. You started seeing a therapist to help you process everything you’ve been through with Dieter. Looking over at Peanut sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside your bed, you can’t help thinking about how it’s so unfair to this little baby to have a father who would choose drugs over them, but there’s nothing you can do besides be the best parent you can for Peanut. 

It startles you to hear a crashing sound coming from the kitchen. Slowly making your way out of bed to grab the baseball bat from the closet, you glance over at Peanut one more time before leaving the bedroom to see who dared disturb your peace.

“God damn it,” you hear Dieter groan, “I could’ve sworn I had some in here.”

You try to calm your heart rate, peering around the doorway to see Dieter rummaging through a kitchen drawer. He’s finally shown up. Not for you, not for his baby, but only to try and find drugs. He’s literally only here for the damn drugs. Your therapist had warned you about this moment.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

“Where the fuck is it?!” Dieter hisses, still not noticing you in the doorway, flipping on the lights.

“Gone,” you state firmly, setting the bat against the wall, and crossing your arms, “I flushed everything.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Dieter shrieks, facing you in the doorway but barely focusing on you. “You had no right to do that!”

“I did it because you asked me to when you were detoxing the last time.”

“I never said anything like that,” he seethes, stalking towards you, pointing a finger in your face, “I would never ask you to flush my shit.”

“Dieter, where have you been?” you ask, noting his blown-out pupils, and the wild look in his eyes. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Needed some space,” Dieter scoffs shrugging, “It’s not that big of a fucking deal.”

“Peanut.”

“The fuck?” Dieter asks, looking at you with malice in his eyes.

“Peanut,” you grit through your teeth, pointing down the hall, “You fucking promised me, Dieter. You promised.”

“Oh get off your high horse,” Dieter yells, “Don’t hold that against me when you baby trapped my ass!”

“I- what?” you say through gritted teeth, “You wanted this just as much as I did! It takes two to make a baby!”

“Fuck that!” Dieter laughs maniacally, “I never wanted to be a fucking dad!”

“D, you don’t mean that,” you say, shaking your head, tears brimming your eyes, “That’s the coke talking. You haven’t even seen Peanut, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m Dieter-fucking-Bravo, baby!” He shouts, throwing his arms up into the air, “I’m not gonna be held down by some relationship and a baby at home!”

“Fuck you,” you point to the door, face serious. “Get out of this house.”

“My fucking pleasure!” Dieter roars, walking out of the kitchen and slamming the front door.

—

Five years later.

Dieter was flipping through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch on tv. His high was still lingering, not quite sober but not quite as high as that first hit. The ET channel starts blaring your name, with a picture of you, Peanut, and some guy.

“Looks like there’s an engagement in town,” the host says with a smile, “Looks like she’s got herself a type, but who is this mystery man? It’s rumored they met when he was doing some remodeling work on her house two years ago.”

“That girl’s been through enough!” The other host announces, “Bout time she gets her happy-ever-after!”

Wait, what? No, you’re his. His love, his fairy-tale ending, his forever. Dieter’s world is twisting sideways, Peanut is the spitting image of him. His baby, his baby he has never even met.

“No, no, no,” Dieter groans, picking up his phone to try and call you, the phone goes straight to voicemail. He tries calling your publicist next, again straight to voicemail. Next, he tries your manager, with the same results, over and over again until giving up and calling the one person he can trust.

“Mark,” Dieter cries into the receiver, “Please tell me it’s not true.”

“Dieter,” Mark grunts, “It’s three in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Is she really getting married?”

“Dieter,” Mark let out an exasperated sigh.

“I need to go back to rehab,” Dieter announces, “If I get clean and do all the steps she’ll have to take me back right?”

“Dieter,” Mark says firmly, “That’s not how it works. Let her go. She’s had to change her number fifteen different times now because you somehow keep getting it. Her entire team has your number blocked.”

“She’s the love of my life, Mark,” he whines, “I can’t just let her go. Starting tomorrow, I’m sober.”

Dieter begins cutting ties with most of his friends or really it was more cutting the people off who encouraged him to use. He went through the detox, he went through the steps as best as he could. He wants to impress you, he wants to get you back, get his kid back, fuck this guy who swooped in while he was away.

---

He’s six months sober. He hadn’t been sober for this long since before Peanut was born. Dieter found out from a friend of a friend’s friend where exactly you were living for the right price, Hollywood would never change. He makes the drive to your house, flowers in the passenger seat for you, and a teddy bear for Peanut. He’s ready to grovel at your feet if that’s what it will take. Pulling up to the curb he sees a nice suburban home. It’s nothing like what you two had shared, no ornate bushes out in the front yard, no massive gate surrounding the house keeping you caged in, kids freely playing in the neighboring yards. The front door opens and he feels like he’s been sucker punched. You’re standing there, staring daggers at him. He watches you leave the doorway, and as you walk towards his car he can’t help but think you look just as beautiful as the first day he met you.

He opens the car door, grabs the flowers and teddy bear, and gets out.

“Stop right there,” you state firmly, shoulders back and head held high, “What the fuck are you doing here Dieter?”

“I’m sober,” he says, “I thought- I thought maybe I could come and try to talk to y-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laugh, but not the soft laugh that fills him with so much light like Dieter remembers, this laugh doesn’t bring him comfort, it only brings him a sense of loss.

“I haven’t used in six months now, I’m trying to change, I really am,” he sighs, “I know I fucked up, I know I’ve been gone but I can’t think of you marrying someone else. I can’t”

“You’ve been gone?” You ask, shaking your head, “You were more than gone, it’s been five years. What did you think was going to happen Dieter? That I would still be in that house, taking care of our baby all on my own just waiting on you to come to your senses? Don’t act like you were just gone on a business trip, it’s been five damn years!”

“No, that’s-” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “That’s now how I meant it.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I haven’t been good in a long time. The last time things were good was when I was with you.”

“And?” you ask, gritting your teeth together, “What does that have to do with anything? You left Dieter. You left me. Alone, pregnant, I almost lost Peanut because of you.”

He hates this, he never thought he’d see a side of you like this. Angry, mean, spiteful. You were always forgiving, tender, and always cared about his feelings. What happened?

“What happened to you?” Dieter asks, shaking his head, “When we were together you were never like this. You’re being so hateful.”

“What happened to me?” You shout, “Dieter, you! You happened to me!”

“Babe,” Dieter looks past you to the man at the door, “Everythin’ a’right?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you say giving the man a warm smile, the smile that was once for Dieter, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Daddy look at this!” Dieter hears a kid shout, and the man named Joel responds to the kid’s voice with a “Comin’ kiddo!”

“Is that-” Dieter swallows, feeling his mouth go dry, “Was that Peanut?”

“Yes,” you reply coldly.

“That’s not Peanut’s dad. I’m Peanut’s dad!”

“You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you never showed up for the birth,” you say stepping closer to him, “You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you decided to break into our home to look for drugs when they were a month old,” pushing against his chest, flowers and teddy bear falling to the ground, “You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you fucked off for the past five years. Don’t you ever call yourself Peanut’s dad, got it?”

“Biologically I am Peanut’s dad,” Dieter protests.

“You may be the sperm donor but that makes you just about as much of a parent as a toilet seat does,” you spit out, turning and storming off.

Dieter watches you walk away back to your home, his heart heavy with regret. You were the last reason he had to get sober and get healthy and you didn’t want him. He ruined it. 

He turns around placing his hands on top of his car, closing his eyes as his head fills with dark and sad thoughts when he hears a small voice say, “Momma, why was the man you have a picture of in your bedside table here? And why’s he look so sad?”

Dieter’s head perks up and a hopeful grin spreads across his face.

[agentstarkid]

MY THOUGHTS WILL ECHO YOUR NAME ✦ DR3

✦ PAIRINGS: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 1K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, fluff, there's a nine-year age gap. This is completely from Daniel's POV and what happened after he met Girlie, so it's pretty much him-centric.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: TA-DAAAAA!! y'all thought I'd leave you without Daniel simping over Girlie the night they met? Nah lol and btw, not my first language, sorry if there's any mistake <3

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

He watched her walk away with her friends, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. The night had flown by, each moment with her more captivating than the last. Her laugh, her eyes, the way she listened so intently—it all felt effortless and real. He couldn't shake the memory of how nervous he'd been earlier in the night when he first saw her across the crowded room. It had been a long time since he felt that kind of anxiety—he hadn’t felt that way since the night he approached Jemma, his high school sweetheart, in that nightclub years ago. They had broken up in 2016, and since then, no one had made him feel quite as excited or uncertain.

He noticed how she sighed and smiled as she gently steadied her friend, showing her caring nature even amidst the chaos. When she glanced back at him, their eyes met, and he felt a giddiness he hadn't expected. He waved, hoping she saw the sincerity in his smile.

Lost in his thoughts, Daniel replayed the evening in his mind. He remembered how his palms had grown sweaty and his heart had raced when he decided to go talk to her. He had been drawn to her laugh, her smile, the way she exuded warmth, a presence that reached him even when he was standing far away. Approaching her felt like stepping into uncharted territory, a thrilling mix of fear and anticipation.

Just then, his friends came up behind him, breaking through his reverie with playful nudges and teasing grins. “Hey, Romeo,” one of his best mates, Blake Mills—a.k.a. Tall Blake—, called out, “you were pretty into her, huh?”

“Yeah, bro,” this time Blake Friend—a.k.a. Manager Blake—chimed in, “we've never seen you like this, bro. Must be something special.”

Daniel chuckled, trying to play it cool, but he couldn't hide the genuine smile spreading across his face. “Maybe she is,” he admitted, his gaze still lingering on the spot where she had disappeared.

As Daniel's friends continued to tease him, he couldn't help but smile, their light-hearted jabs contrasting with the seriousness of his thoughts. “Come on, guys, give me a break,” he said, though his grin betrayed how much he enjoyed their banter.

“Seriously, though,” Carlo—Rigolini, who, as well as Blake Mills and Baz Martino, was a childhood friend—said, sobering slightly, “you looked really happy talking to her. Haven't seen you like that since, well, you know…”

Daniel nodded, appreciating his friend's unspoken reference to Jemma without needing to delve into it. “Yeah, she was different,” he admitted, his mind drifting back to the brief, intense connection they'd shared. “I haven't felt like this in a long time.”

Baz clapped him on the back. “Well, you better hope she felt the same way. Maybe you'll get another chance.”

Daniel nodded, his thoughts swirling with possibilities. He knew he had to take the initiative if he wanted to see her again, and suddenly his phone felt invaluable with the new number saved on it. The memory of their laughter, the way her eyes sparkled under the lights, and the easy flow of their conversation all played over in his mind, making him more determined.

As they started to leave the party, Daniel's thoughts remained with her. The night had been a whirlwind, and he hadn't expected to feel this way again. The prospect of seeing her again filled him with a mix of nervousness and excitement, much like when he first approached Jemma all those years ago.

“Alright,” he said, turning to his friends with a renewed sense of determination, “let's get out of here. But mark my words, I'm definitely going to see her again.” His friends cheered, playfully encouraging him. 

As Daniel and his friends began to gather their things and head out, Martin approached them, his usual confident grin plastered across his face. “Hey, guys, had a good night?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with the afterglow of the party's success.

“Yeah, man, it's been great,” Daniel replied, still buzzing from his encounter. They chatted for a few minutes, exchanging stories and laughs about the night's events.

Finally, Daniel scratched the back of his head, looking slightly sheepish. “Listen, bro, I know you wanted to introduce me to someone tonight, but I ended up meeting an amazing girl on my own.”

Martin's grin widened, and he clapped Daniel on the shoulder. “Dude,” he chuckled, “that was her!”

Daniel blinked in surprise. His brown eyes widened and his lips formed an "O". “Wait, what? That was her?” he whisper-screamed dumbfounded. 

“Yeah, man,” Martin said, laughing at Daniel's astonished expression. “I saw you two hitting it off and decided to let things play out naturally. Looks like it went pretty well, huh?”

Daniel shook his head, a smile spreading across his face as the pieces fell into place. “I can't believe it. She's incredible.”

Martin nodded. “I had a feeling you two would get along. Glad I was right.” The Dutchman then gave Daniel a playful nudge. “So, did she end up being your New Year's kiss?”

Daniel blushed slightly, making a face that showed both regret and disappointment. “Mate, I didn't kiss her, and I should have,” he admitted. “but I didn't want to come on too strong.”

At this point, Daniel's friends joined in the teasing. “We can't believe you even had the guts to go talk to her on your own,” One Blake said, giving him a playful shove.

“Yeah,” the other one chimed in, “you've been out of the game for a while, bro.”

Daniel chuckled, though the blush on his cheeks deepened. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys,” he said sarcastically, but he couldn't hide his grin.

As they wrapped up their conversation, Daniel felt a renewed sense of excitement. This unexpected twist only deepened his determination to see her again.

“Thanks, Martin,” he said earnestly, feeling grateful for his friend's matchmaking efforts.

“No problem,” Martin replied, waving them off with a knowing smile. “Good luck, man.”

As Daniel and his friends walked out into the cool night air, he couldn't stop thinking about her. The laughter and teasing from his friends continued, but his mind was already planning how he might see her again.

One thing was certain: this New Year's Eve had marked the beginning of something special. And as they made their way back to their hotel, Daniel couldn't help but feel that this was just the start of a new chapter in his life.

✦ may's radio: would you guys like to read about any other specific scene in the fic? 👀

[jay7543]

therapist!reader and client!Konig??? I think it would just be so wholesome.

You and your therapist könig

M4m

18+

I like this idea a lot, does seem really wholesome. Won’t have many smut aspects but it will be a bit spicy but it will be fairly short, at least compared to my other stuff. I hope you enjoy!

This one does get in the feels a bit, so be ready for that.

Also, after writing this, I have realized i flipped the roles, I hope that doesn’t bother you too much, message me if you want them normal like you said. Or I might just do it anyway. I am truly sorry for the inconvenience

Feel free to make requests

Let’s be honest, you’ve had problems for a while. From depression and anxiety to worries about your sexuality. You also never thought a therapist would be a good idea. It was expensive and you were brought up thinking your problems were your own, not anyone else’s to deal with. After years of bullshit and deliberation, and a recommendation from a friend, you got a therapist. You’ve been seeing him for a few weeks now, not delving too deep into your problems but getting comfortable with him, it helps that he’s your age. He is foreign though, which is a bit odd to you, his name is könig, he’s an amazing listener and very considerate, at least after you got over how tall he was, and how handsome he was.

You’re now outside of his office, ready for your fourth session, preparing to talk about some real problems. You knock on the door.

König-“komm”

You assume he told you to come in. You like it when he speaks German a bit, but you still don’t understand it. You open the door with a weak smile and close it behind you.

Reader-“h-hey doc”

You say nervously, waking over to the seat next to him that you usually spend most of your time.

König-“ah, hello maus. How have you been since our last session”

You blush a bit when he called you maus, it always makes you feel so cute.

Reader-“I-I’ve been ok I guess. You?”

König-“I’ve been good. In fact I’ve been looking forward to this session. I think I’m finally getting somewhat of a read on you.”

He says with a smile. So warm and welcoming.

Reader-“well I….i wanted to actually bring up some real problems this time. I-I might get a bit emotional though, I-i tend to”

König leans forward in his seat, now taking your words much more seriously. He’s been waiting for this.

König-“go ahead. I’m willing to listen to whatever you have to say, and I don’t mind the emotions, I welcome it in fact”

You take a few deep breaths to hype yourself up before finally speaking

Reader-“well, one of my biggest problems is my self image, I feel like I’m not pretty or handsome enough you know”

You look down and play with your fingers for a minute, trying to get the nerves to go away. König just nods and writes in his notes, waiting for you to continue

Reader-“I uh, I also have trouble with my sexuality”

König’s eyes shoot back up at you, he wasn’t exactly expecting it but it’s a very welcome surprise.

Reader-“I’m bisexual but I’ve never really been in a relationship, I’ve also always been scared to tell people that. And it all kinda wraps around to the self image thing”

You both sit quietly for a minute, him taking your words in and thinking of how to respond, you waiting for him too.

König-“well, a very important question is where do you think those problems stem from, it’s very important to know that”

You think for a second and try to figure out a moment or moments that caused it

Reader-“how my parents were when I was younger I guess. They weren’t hateful or homophobic or anything, just….they didn’t make me feel like I could trust them. Made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to mess up, or do something they might not like”

König-“that’s understandable, a lot of problems stem from how parents have treated their children. A lot of parents don’t even realize that they’re doing it. Or how much they’re affecting their child.”

He says in a very soft tone, leaning in a bit closer, attempting to comfort you in some way. You nod

Reader-“yeah, I just…I don’t know”

You start to get a bit choked up, thinking about how you were as a kid, how carefree you were, how innocent you were. Then how you are now, how sad you are, the things you feel like you’re missing out on. It all comes out in a stream of tears.

König-“it-it’s ok to cry. Don’t feel bad”

He leans in and hugs you softly, and you latch into him like he’s the only one who’s shown you this kind of kindness. You’ve just barely opened up and you’re already crying, you feel pathetic, but he helps to get rid of those thoughts.

Reader-“I just feel broken. Like I can’t be me. Like I’m not good enough”

You cry into his shoulder, letting out all of those feelings of inadequacy. He leans in and whispers.

König-“none of that is true maus. I haven’t known you for long but you seem very nice, and considerate of others. You’re not broken, you can be you. You are good enough”

These words make you cry more. They’re the nicest things you’ve ever heard. And after he says them he leans in and kisses your forehead, which is more than a therapist should but…you like it, he makes you feel cared about.

König-“you’re very pretty, or handsome, or whatever word you want to use. You’re enough how you are, and I’ll be here to help you realize that”

Reader-“th-thank you”

You stammer out through your sniffles and tears. He hold you close, rubbing your hair and giving you soft kisses every now and then, until the end of the session. He cares…he’s the first one….he really cares.

[ladydeath-vanserra]

Hello 👋

I love your thoughts on anti ic and the way you delve into everything and actually name the issues within them .

I have a rant about Feyre :

I liked her in Book 1 but book 2 onwards Mr SA melted her brain . There are lots of things that irk me about feyre : Her Hipocrasy first and foremost

The Hipocrasy is strong with this girl istg , like you're the one who does a free public porn show for the guy who SA you and then have the gall to compliment rhys when he uses his powers on keir for calling you a whore. Like wtf ? I am on kiers side in this , if your dictator ( because that's what rhysand is ) was fingering a fae in front of all of his court I'd be disgusted too .

The scene where feyre starts crying because of nestas expenditure ? Like bitch you have 5 houses and your "friend s" are always out drinking and fucking and you don't have a problem with that ? I actually think mor is an alcoholic and her relationship with cassian is incestuous.

Feyre locking Nesta in the HOW even after her trauma when tamlin locked her up in the manor like are you kidding me rn ? Seriously if I was nesta I would've verbally rendered feyre to a pile of dust .

Coming to that she also has no phycological damage from the 3 months rhysand SA her and made her do lap dances but when your sister is snarky and calls you for her decisions you have the gall to have trauma about that ? Be fr bro I call my brother whore for fun 💀( only children shouldn't be allowed to write sibling relationships - sjm )

Sorry if this got too long , I just wanted to rant to someone and I hope you understand ( you're one of the few people in this fandom with actual functioning neurons )

Thank you 💗

Yeah, I don't really get Rhysand's whole,,, well anything regarding politics tbh. He talks down and degrades the CoN and treat them as nothing more than oppressive misogynists' in front of them and then proceeds to perform sexual acts with the woman he then wants to be viewed in a professional, respectable and political light and when that doesn't happen, due to the whole sexual act and 'Rhysand's harlot' or whatever she called herself, thing, Rhysand then assaults Keir

So like.... he can assert authority and abuse power when it comes to disrespect to the girl he literally wanted to be his plaything in front of these people, but he can't assert authority when it comes to protecting the vulnerable populations of the CoN or to establish progressive laws. He says Keir is in charge of the CoN and that he can't use the Darkbringers without his permission but then he assaults the Steward of the CoN. High Lord or not that doesn't make a lick of sense if he ever wants to be viewed as a legitimate ruler. I would also be disgusted by such vulgar acts- besides these people did not consent to be witnesses to sexual acts of display

Feyre crying is... I dunno. Like I chalked it up to hormones, but I am more concerned with Rhysand's blatant manipulation and emotional and financial abuse of reading off expenses in front of every single member of the IC. That is a form of shame and humiliation in order for Feyre to 'get her sister under control'. But I also agree, I think it's completely unnecessary and hypocritical of Rhysand and Co to look down their noses at Nesta for spending money when Rhysand himself said that the IC bleed him dry with their flagrant spending on alcohol and parties- which is said in ACOMAF but then it gets played off for the Laugh

Feyre and Rhysand locking Nesta up in the HoW is just sooooo. guh. How is it that when Tamlin does it for *checks notes* five minutes it's the most egregious, unforgiveable sin but when Rhysand and Feyre not ONLY lock her up, they demolished her home, they had Elain pack up her belongings, they made her live with a man Nesta repeatedly, verbally said she wanted nowhere near her. Plus the humiliation factor of not only being talked at in front of the IC, but Rhysand, Feyre and Amren talking about Nesta via Mental Powers in front of Nesta. There was so, so much wrong with that entire scene and the fact that both the narrative and the fandom cannot see why that scene was so disgusting is quite frankly, alarming

Like I can get that Feyre could have emotional and internalized feelings of a bad self image via Nesta from childhood, but I am also aware of what can happen when children are forced into extremely small proximity with each other with a very toxic and unhealthy household. Nesta and Feyre both were at each other's throats. they were both awful to each other and there is a rather large amount of assumption by Feyre and a large amount of miscommunication with both the girls

Rhysand however, with all his abuses of Feyre UtM, just... being forgotten about, just like that, is very weird. Very weird, especially if Nesta is still paying for sins from before the first book even took place. Feyres not getting triggered from the Weavers cottage? shes not getting triggered with his "Feyre Darling"? She's not getting triggered being in the CoN where UtM was inspired by? She's not getting triggered wearing those scraps of clothes? She's not getting triggered when Rhys uses paint on Feyre in Chapter 55 or whatever chapter it was just like he did UtM in front of Tamlin??????

Feyre brings up UtM ONCE to Rhysand and he gets all hyperventilatey and says theyll 'talk about it later' and then guess what, it doesn't. It just gets explained that he just had to torture his mate and what it was doing to him

give me a break

[tossawary]

So far (partway into the Hueco Mundo arc, I skipped the Bount arc completely), "Bleach" seems to... shy away from interesting consequences for the issues it directly brings up. (Also, oh, man, all the filler varies in quality so much and it is BRUTAL on the pacing of the main storylines.)

Like, I think a lot about the Soul Society arc had a lot of missed potential in general, but I also thought the end of it is where things get genuinely exciting. The Gotei 13 has been repeatedly shown to be uncaring, incompetent, cruel, authoritarian, etc. and it seems like the characters are fighting against this hollow structure built on unsustainable tradition finally cracking under the weight of whatever unjust powers are obviously behind Rukia's execution and apparently Aizen's murder. Multiple captains start turning against each other for different reasons. It seems like Ichigo is just one small part of a much larger world.

And then Aizen is revealed and things still feel pretty delicious! What he did to Momo was REALLY fucked up and painful to watch in many ways. It's not unreasonable that Aizen's betrayal immediately halts a lot of ongoing fights. It makes sense that the Captain Commander doesn't want to turn around afterwards and start executing people for turning against him after losing three captains and all of Central 46. But... I would still expect there to be more lasting cracks and broken trust between the remaining members of the Gotei 13. The top four members of Squad 11 briefly turned against the Gotei essentially for funsies and yet characters like Toshiro and Rangiku don't seem to have any real resentment or suspicion over this casual disloyalty. I vaguely hope the psychological weight of and anger surrounding Aizen's fuckery is explored more later on, with more seriousness, but I can't trust this show not to essentially drop the issue completely.

I don't need this show to have Soul Society turn into some socialist / communist / anarchist utopia. But it is a downer to have a character as absolutely vile as Kurotsuchi thrown in my face during his fight with Ishida, knowing that not only does Kurotsuchi survive, but he's presumably continuing his utterly inhumane work in the Soul Society while everything else is happening. And the show seems to treat him as more of a joke mad scientist in the background than someone as or even more evil as any of the hollows. And I can't fully trust that this aspect of the Soul Society will ever be honestly confronted, even as simply a deeply tragic element representative of the Gotei's unchanging hypocrisy.

The Gotei 13 has an assassination squad! You don't have an assassination squad unless you're regularly killing people who are "undermining" your power, probably including lots of poor people in the outer districts trying to organize communities, based on actual history. These aspects are what made the soul reapers such effective and complicated antagonists in the Soul Society arc! And the flip to "yeah, they're Ichigo's allies now, mostly" was very sudden and kind of... underwhelming.

I don't care if parts of this story are tragic and this obviously broken system is left mostly unchanged at the end, it's just annoying when the story treats certain aspects as happy endings or just a funny joke, instead of delving more seriously and deliciously into just messed up everything is! How the soul reapers are unable to handle the burdens here!

From what I vaguely remember overhearing, Aizen ends up being a relatively flat villain, with relatively shallow goals and motivations regarding taking over the worlds and rising to godhood, which feels like missed potential when there's so much about this world that sucks! If Aizen had any honest motivations about making things better for any group of people, including hollows and their shitty deal in all this for example, then we might actually have a more interesting dialogue happening about the state of everything. I would like to see him honestly appealing to Orihime's kindness and sense of mercy in order to get her to join him. Her brother turned into a hollow! She has reasons to care about hollows potentially wanting to be more human again and living better afterlives than fighting forever in the sands. Maybe Aizen could just be lying about helping other people, but it would be more interesting to see this type of persuasion, and I'm already fucking sick of so much of Orihime's motivations focusing on helping Ichigo instead of her feeling torn about her tragically and traumatically dead brother who turned into a hollow.

(Side note: I don't fully understand why Aizen didn't just take over the Gotei 13. Between his hypnosis and his minions and his plots to take out rivals, he could have surely installed himself as the next Captain Commander eventually. Neither Ukitake (chronically ill) nor Kyouraku (relaxed drunkard) seem to honestly want the weight of that position. Aizen just seems to like drama, I guess. Fair enough.)

I've just reached the fight between Rukia and Aaronerio who is pretending to be Kaien, and it feels like the story is bringing up a genuinely cool idea only to throw it aside as a trick by a relatively boring hollow character. What IF Kaien had become a hollow? What IF Kaien had joined Aizen because he had some legitimate grief with Soul Society and the Gotei 13? I have vague memories about Aizen having Kaien killed and framing the Shiba Clan because Kaien was investigating him, but it's sooooo boring to have Aizen be at fault for EVERYTHING. The fallen lieutenant / almost captain from a disgraced noble family treated badly by Soul Society... turned into a hollow and forced to survive tragedy he wanted to kill him and unable to return to the Gotei 13 for help? Joining up with Aizen because he wants to take down the Soul Society and make a better world? That's COMPELLING. That's COMPLICATED. That's something that promises to get MESSY if Aizen is lying to Kaien and/or Kaien has genuinely lost his way and/or Kaien HAS A POINT. But the show brings it up only to bail on the concept.

Maybe some of the things I've talked about here will be brought up later on. I expect them to keep bringing up many of these issues, actually! I honestly just don't expect satisfying explorations and resolutions to anything, given what I've seen so far. They're just not going for the good stuff.

(I have this playing in the background while working on other stuff. If I put on a better anime, I would actually want to pay more attention to it.)