#and what it means to still be a rock star at this age

[belligerentbagel]

my chemical romance plays in twelve minutes 

adding my quiet contribution towards manifesting another Gender tonight 

[miguelhugger2099]

Quiet Loving

Summary: Miguel loves you and your little family so much.

A/N: made seconds before I fell asleep last night

In the comfort of your husbands arms, you buried yourself closer—it was never close enough in your opinion.

Miguel shared the same sentiment, his beefy and strong arms were firm around your body, tugging you closer in his lap. One arm around your waist and the other cradling your head in the crook of his neck.

When he held you like this, he felt at peace. He didn’t know how else to explain it other than that it felt right. It felt like it mattered—the only thing that mattered. He leaned into to smell your hair, your signature shampoo scent invading his senses and calming his nerves.

Miguel tightened his embrace around you. You were never close enough.

He loved you dearly. Too much, it was borderline concerning to others but not to you.

Footsteps patted down the stairs of your home. Lifting your head from his neck, Miguel groaned—missing the warmth and weight of you. He felt like half of his puzzle piece was missing.

You looked over to see the culprit of the loud unstable stomps down the steps. Your daughter Gabriella, in her purple pajamas, was holding her baby brother, Isaac. Your eyebrows knit in worry to match her own expression.

“Que pasó, mija?” You call out to her and she stands in front of you and Miguel on the couch. Gabriella bounces Isaac in her arms while he babbles and coughs.

“Zee-Zee woke up and I tried putting him back to sleep but…” She holds the baby out to you when Isaac winds up to start crying.

You quickly take your baby boy in your arms and cradle him to your chest. Miguel carefully shuffles you off his lap and tugs his daughter to him.

“I didn’t…I thought I could help Mami.” She whispers to her father. Miguel gives her a soft smile, reaching up to pat her head before ushering her in his lap.

She crawls into his embrace, resting her back on his chest and her head leans on his shoulder. Miguel brings his arms around his little girl, ignoring how bigger she’s gotten since the last time he held her like this.

“You did help Mami, mijita.” Miguel coos. His hand squeezes her tiny shoulder. “It’s the thought that counts. Did he just wake up?”

Gabriella shakes her head. “He was awake for a bit before I realized he wouldn’t sleep.”

Miguel nods and looks over at you as you held his son in your arms. His heart swells with love and pride. He couldn’t ask for a better woman to be the mother of his kids. He couldn’t ask for a better wife to be married to him. He couldn’t ask for a better person to spend his remaining days with.

“Well, I think you did a pretty good job. He didn’t start crying until he saw Mama right?” Gabriella nods. “That means Isaac knew you were there for him. And you knew to bring him to Mama so when he saw her, he felt safe enough to start crying. You did your part, corazón.”

Gabriella sighs, not feeling convinced. Miguel pokes her chest where a purple star was printed on her pajama shirt.

“And I’ll even ignore the fact that you were supposed to be sleeping.” He whispers next to her ear and Gabriella giggles.

“Sorry, Papi.” She mumbles bashfully and hides in his neck. Miguel’s heart softens. He could never be mad at his princess. His hand pets her hair which lulls her to sleep. She was still at an age where early bedtimes were a must, her little body unable to handle staying awake past 10:30.

“It’s okay. It’ll be our little secret.” He whispers as she yawns and snuggles close to her father, her chubby cheek squished on his firm chest.

You look over and grow amused at the sight. A tough man with scars and hard features, turned into putty when his little girl was curled into a ball in his arms. He always held a soft spot for his firstborn—his princess. Miguel’s eyes meet yours and they brightened. No matter what, however, you held most of the space in his heart—his queen.

“Bed?” You asked him softly as you rocked Isaac in your arms. He nodded and you both got up from the couch to head upstairs to their room. Miguel grunted as he moved Gabriella carefully, tucking his arm underneath her legs to carry her bridal style. Gabriella got even not comfortable and Miguel noticed how heavier she’d gotten. He bites back a smile, a soft twinge of melancholy as he realizes how much she’s growing.

You place Isaac in his crib, making sure to wrap him snuggly in his blanket and surrounding the corners and walls with pillows in case he rolls around. Miguel puts Gabriella down gently in her twin sized bed, tucking her blanket up to her chin and plopping her stuffed teddy bear by her head.

Miguel feels you wrap your arms around his waist, you head between his shoulder blades. Miguel grows goosebumps along his skin and he can’t resist the urge to turn around to face you. He cups your cheeks and leans down to pepper your smiling face with kisses. You stifle giggles, not wanting to wake the children.

“Miggy..!” You whisper to him but he only takes you back into his arms where you belong. The only way to stop him from showering you in his affection was when you physically pulled him off you, your hand ins his hair. He has a dopey grin on his face, a look of utter bliss of just putting his kids to sleep with the woman he loves. The woman he had these beautiful babies with. The woman who gave him these beautiful babies. He could never thank you enough.

Miguel shuts the door behind him, making sure all lights are turned off and double checking that the kids are asleep. Back in your bedroom, Miguel is on you once more. His body weighs on top of yours while he kisses you deeply and lovingly. If you two were younger, it would’ve delved into intimacy—stripping off clothes and having to cover your moans with his hand.

But these kisses were anything but lustful. They were a love letter, a language that only you two understood. Miguel spoke of his admiration for you, not just for your body but for your mind and soul. Each kiss was gentle and left no room for longing when he added another kiss immediately right after the other.

His hands pulled your body up to him. No matter how hard he tried he was always unsatisfied that you weren’t close enough. It was never enough. He wanted to drown in you, worship you and be one with you. Some call him obsessed.

He sighed after one final kiss, but even then his lips lingered above yours. Miguel’s eyes followed each scar you had, each freckle or mole, the color of your lips—oh, he adored it all.

“Te amo, te quiero.” He whispered, hurriedly like he needed you to know even when you already did. He was hopelessly in love with you.

“I love you more.” You whisper back.

“Impossible.”

You smile, knowing that Miguel would always want to win this game of who loved each other more. He was so stubborn it would go on for days. When you relented, he rewarded you with love—kissing you silly until you were breathless. Despite being the “loser”, you always felt like the winner at the end.

Miguel rests on top of you, your hand in his hair as his nose breathes by your neck. Your fingernails scratch his scalp and he hums in delight. His thumb rubs up and down your skin by your stomach. He feels the scars of your stretch marks and the rest of the chub you had gained from pregnancy. You never got a second of doubt in your mind when all Miguel did was remind you how gorgeous you were to him.

He lazily presses more kisses to your neck until he grew too sleepy to move. Miguel had grown comfortable in your arms while you held him and his weight felt nice—especially when he could be switched out with a blanket.

Miguel finally falls into a deep slumber and you follow suit, his hand slowly coming to a stop.

A/N: i feel like if miguel hugged me i wouldn’t be mentally ill 🤔

[tokkiwrites]

┈─ 𖧷 Dirty Diana 🍷⏜ ◌

ㅡㅡㅡ in which you want to surprise your dad with his favorite band tickets. you're really lucky when you stumble upon the lead guitarist, Joel Miller, at your local grocery store. things escalate- but you do get those tickets.

★ ͘rockstar!joel miller, fem!reader, dom joel, sub reader, afab reader, p in v sex unprotected, rough joel, age gap, dumbification of reader, hair pulling, slapping, head m and f receiving, creampie, kind of size kink if u tilt your head, joel has tattoos and a piercings (yummy), sir kink, almost pet play, lots of pet names. drinking, mentions of cheating. lmk if i missed any!!!! (pic in the banner doesn't describe readers body!! there for the aesthetics) not proofread

you've never been a rock fan. sure, you'd enjoy listening to the songs your dad played on your 3 hour long car rides, the ones he always sets as his ring-tone...

but you were in a dilemma nowㅡ there's a giveaway of sorts with tickets to your dad's most favorite band from the early 90's, and to even have a chance at those tickets you need to submit a video of yourself singing one of their songs.

now you would ask your dad, but the first thing that made you this set on getting those tickets was surprising him with them on his upcoming birthday. you'd buy them, but they're either sold out or 200 bucks on shady sitesㅡ and you're a broke college student on winter break.

you sigh, closing your laptop and throwing it on the other side of the bed. you stare up at the ceiling, counting the little neon stars you've had there since you were 10. they always calmed youㅡ made your brain less foggy, even for just a few seconds.

groaning, you throw your legs around, frustrated and disappointed in yourself. this would've really made his worries slip away, for a bit, after what happened with your mom. you still can't wrap your head around why your mom chose her exceeding in nothing, 2 palms of receding hairline co-worker. i mean, he was richㅡ super fucking rich, but was it worth it? your dad didn't deserve it.

you wipe the tears you've just now realized were dripping down your face. "i need something to drink." sniffling, you put on your plush jacket, get some slippers , and spray on some perfume. "at least need to smell presentable if i look likeㅡ" you stare into the mirror, laughing to yourself, "that."

you stroll out of your house and down the street. you were lucky for the grocery store just about 7 minutes away, give or take. it wasn't that small but it wasn't big either, at least not big enough so that you learned form a young age where all of your favorite iles were.

"Hi, Miss Sammy!" you greet the cashier, an old friend of the family and sort of an aunt to youㅡ you remember when she'd let you stay after school in the back of the store up until 5 pm, when your dad came to pick you up. "Hi, honey! How's winter break treating you?"

"Rough day?" you jump, taking one step back before you turn around to see who it was.

"'s fine... I'm glad to be back home with dad." you smile and her gaze softened. "Well if you ever need anythin', you let me know sugar, mkay?" you nod, walking to the furthest part of the store, where all of the drinks were. you look around, trying to find the cheapest thing that can get you dizzy the fastest. really deep in your mind you failed to notice someone coming up to your side, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, you could say thaㅡ wait." you pause. holy shit. you couldn't believe your eyes. "I know you! You're thㅡ" he presses his fingers agains your lips, and oh, it sends a shiver down your back. "quiet down, darlin'."

you nod, whispers-yelling, "You're Joel Miller, right?" he sighs, smiling at your question, and your eyes light up. this is perfect, so, so perfect. "My dad loves you guysㅡ you and your band."

"that so?" your arms flare up, smiling so big. "you've no idea! 's why i was so excited to hear about you coming to town. Wanted to surprise him."

"wanted?" Joel quirks his eyebrows up, his voice dropping an octave. "Yeah, well, i found out pretty late about it and - well, tickets, they're super expensive now, as you'd imagine.." You sigh, turning back to look at the bottles catching the white light of the room. "jus' wanted to give him something to be happy about, you know?" You reach out to grab a 16$ bottle of wine you know is too sweet, but it'll do. trying to lift the mood, you try your hand at a joke. "guess my only option is to fuck somebody who has those tickets." you look at him and his brows are furrowed. stupid, stupid, stupid joke, stupid you.

"so-rry, didn't mean toㅡ"

"that so, pretty girl?" Those words go straight to your core, causing you to nip at your bottom lip, stiff like a stone. "Now, you can't just say somethin' like thatㅡ" Joel leans in closer "'n not answer me."

you look up at him, and you finally get a better look. there aren't many pictures of him close up on the internet, mostly grainy ones where you can barely make out his tattoos. you gulp, eyes traveling across his face: a brow piercing, a full beard with patches of gray, a neck tattoo with a ravenㅡ he looked surreal.

"y'gonna answer me, angel-face? or do i need to pull out those words myself?" god, you were practically dripping on the linoleum of the store, cheeks ablaze and words tangled in your throat.

"I'm ㅡ" he traces his inked fingers across the exposed part of your neck, chuckling at your demeanor. "I live 5 minutes away." you blurt out, causing his eyes to widen. "maybeㅡ come over?" god, what were you doing? you sure hope not to regret your words later. but right now, two things you knew for certain: you were way too turned on, and he was way too hot for his age.

Joel smirks, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Well, darlin', seems like fate's on your side today." He grabs the bottle of wine you were holding, examining it. "I ain't lettin' you drink that, girl." he scoffs, picking up a bottle of Giulio Ferrari from 1992, not even looking at the price. "Let me spoil you a bit, yeah." you can't even say a word, you pathetically whine, as your knees wobble like jelly.

Joel puts the hoodie over his head and looks down at you, his firey stare making your cheeks burn up all over again. "y'know the lady?" he asks, motioning his head towards Sammy who was busy playing Rummy on her phone. "I do, old familyㅡ well, like family." He nods, patting your shoulder, "you go ahead, wait f'me in front of the store by that coffee machine. I'mma pay real quick, yeah?" you nod so fast, way too excited with those butterflies tying knots in your stomach, you head to the door.

"Bye, Miss Sammy!" you wave, and she just hums and gives half of a wave back "buh-bye, sugar." too fixed on her phone. As Joel pays for the bottle of wine, he glances back at you exiting the store.

"Lead the way, darlin'. Let's see if we can work something out." and oh, the way those words make you drip in anticipation. the way you were so eager to have his hands all over your body- those tickets were the last thing on your mind right now. You both head towards your house, the cold air adding a sense of urgency to the situation. You couldn't believe how needy he made you with just a few words. Small talk fills the short journey, with Joel sharing stories from the road and you nervously responding.

Once inside your home, Joel looks around appreciatively. "Cozy place you got here." you nod, leading him to the kitchen. "your daddy home?"

"no.." you fumble your steps as you hurriedly put two glasses on the counter for Joel to fill up with wine. Joel smirks, sensing the tension in the air. "Just us, then," he says, pouring the wine into the glasses. The rich aroma of the aged wine fills the room as he hands you a glass. "Cheers to unexpected encounters," he toasts, clinking glasses with you. The wine is exquisite, but the real intoxication is the electrifying presence of Joel. Tattoos adorned his body, his fluffy hair laid perfectly, strands of gray standing out; the way his muscles bulged through his shirtㅡ you could see it all better now.

"feels like you're about to eat me, baby. way you're starin' me down." joel chuckles. "sorry I'mㅡ sorry." you nervously sip from you glass trying to put out the fire in your core, his voice making it ten times harder for you. "now, how you gonna get what you want if you get so shy on me, hm?"

joel steps closer to you, and your chest burns, heaving up and down as his arms snake around your waist and settle onto your tummy. "ain't you a big girl? thought you were- how you so eagerly invited a stranger ㅡsuch an old man into your home when your daddy ain't around." he rubs through you, a squeaky whimper slipping past your lips as you felt his bulge against you. "oh, she likes that, don't she?" you breathe out "god.."

"please..." you plead, palms now on top of his as you slowly turn your head to expose your neck further. "please what, babygirl?"

"not god, baby..jus' me." he chuckles murkily.

"please, sir..t-touch me." you back your body further, prompting joel to groan and tighten his grasp on you. "jesus, girl." he laughs "dirty little thing." his rough hands make their way under your lace trimmed long-sleeve, grasping at you breasts.

"no bra, baby?" he asks, swirling his thumbs across your sprung up nipples, and you moan a quiet 'no'. "what if your daddy walks through that door right now, huh?"

"dont care..." you lean more into his touch, intoxicated from it and his scent, a hint of smoky wood, and a touch of muskㅡ he smelled delicious. you couldn't wait to have him on your tongue.

"'course you don't. needy little whore wants an old man to fuck her senselessㅡ need me to fill ya up with this cock til you're dumb and can't think no more." you moan, so eagerly shaking your head as you press your ass onto his hard-on, getting joel to wrap his thick fingers around your throat and spin you around to face him. "not so fast, girl. wanna see ya beg, can you do that f'me angel?" his graps grow rougher, and you mewl out a string of yes, yes, yes, whilst dropping to your knees, as he instructs

"eyes up, babyㅡ there she is." joel strokes your face before delivering a harsh slap onto your already red cheek. moaning, you rub your thighs together as to evade just a bit of pressure in your cunt. "pretty little slut. so pretty like this." he growls, taking a handful of your hair "go on now. beg. tell sir how bad you need his cock."

and you do. you beg and plead, press your face against his thigh like a little puppy. you don't take you eyes off of his, prompting yourself with his boot under your clothed cunt. "please, sir.. v'been so good..." and you start moving slowly, cheek now flush against his crotch. you moan and rut against him, heat washing over your whole body. you wanted to make him proud, you dont know what came over youㅡ you were so drunken and you didn't know if it was because of the wine or because of joel.

the way he stared down at you, his pupils almost like an eclipse to his hazel eyes, lips half hidden behind his mustache. The way his piercing gaze holds yours, unwavering and commanding; he was rough and enticing, mean in just the right wayㅡ his voice dripped like honey and you couldn't hold but lick it up and let it poison you through and through.

"atta girl." you looked so vulnerable. so innocent. so raw and ready for him to taint and infect you with his all. he unbuckled his pants, leaving them a bit open at the top, perfectly for you to see the strain his thick cock put onto his briefs. "c'mon. don't make me wait, baby..." you didn't need to hear more, eagerly pulling out his erect length, letting it slap onto his clothed belly. you could drool at the sight, all though you're pretty sure you already were. he was bigㅡ huge even, the biggest you've ever seen. it was girthy and had veins running down it, tip red, dripping with precum. "too b-big-" you manage to let out. "you'll make it fit, puppy. for me, yeah? c'mon, let me fuck that pretty mouth." and you softly reply with 'yes, sir' before he yanks at your hair and directs his dick right between your lips. "open. widee openㅡ there you go." he encourages you as you try your best to fit that monster into your mouth. it hurts and your chin stings as joel slowly stars to thrust his length into you mouth- or at list what fits of it.

"pretty slut. look so good with her mouth full of cock." joel hums as you whine around him. "like this cock, baby?" he knows you can't answer, mouth too full and brain to fuzzy. "so cock stupid, can't even speak." he laughs. you've never felt like this, god, not even imagined something like this. yet there you were with someone who's twice your age fucking your mouth. "what would your daddy say?" you whine and squeeze around nothing, nails digging into the back of his knees. joel can only laugh as he puls out, rubbing his tip over your lips to collect the drool that mixed with his precum, and smear it all over your rosy cheeks.

you felt so dirty. but it felt rightㅡ for a good cause, right?

he slaps your face with his length before pulling you up by your hair, bending you over the kitchen counter. "gonna let me fuck you, babygirl?"

"yes-" you wriggle into his hold. "yes, what?" hes prying "yes, sir." you obediently reply. "good fuckin' pup." he doesn't even haltㅡ joel pulls down your pants at once with your panties. he delivers a harsh slap before trailing his digits right between your legs. "poor lil' cunt. look at 'er." he coos. "crying for this cock."

"please, sirㅡ mmhg.." whining, you try to rub yourself onto his fingers, but he quickly slaps you again, this time on the side of your thigh. "don't be a greedy bitch. you take what i give you, understand?"

"y-yes, sir, pleaseㅡ" he clicks his tongue before kneeling, spreading your pussy lips as he does, leaning in and blowing onto your sensitive clit. you jump and moan in frustration. "i know, baby, i know." he spreads your legs further, finally landing a soft and teasing lick between your folds. it doesn't take long for joel to go at it, sucking and licking at your cunt like theres no tomorrow, your desperate pleads to come only fueling him. "not yet, angel-baby." he gorans, picking himself up. "want you to come 'round my cock. want you to come while i stuff you up nice 'n good." you nod, not even half sure what you heard, you were too dizzy and the sudden lack of stimulation drove you mad.

joel positions himself behind you, lifting your leg up so one of your knees rests onto the counter. he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, wanting to pull more from you, to get you even needful. you couldn't barely muster to hold yourself up, letting all of your weight on Joel, deprived pleads rolling of your tongue.

when he's content with the teasing, he starts to ease into you. it's like you're awakened from a trance, fully aware of everything, and every fiber of your body. it all vibrates as a sting spreads through your body, and you squeeze around Joel. "fuckkㅡ so fuckin' tight, baby- I'd think were a virgin if i didn't know what a cock slut you actually are." he laughs somberly before plunging straight into you. your tongue luls out, tears on the brink of your eyes as you cand only squeal out pathetic moans and incoherent blathers. "shitㅡ ! squeezing me so good, baby"

and he goes at you, diving deeper and deeper with each hit of his hips, one palm holding your leg up and one pressing you face flush on the cold surface of the counter. "like that? like it when an old man has his way with ya, huh?" you can't hear him, you barely make out his words; your eyes roll back and spine arched as he plummets into your cunt. "fucked you stupid, huh? dirty girl." joel snickers, feeling your walls squeeze around him as he takes one of your palms and places it right on top of your belly. "feel." and, fuck, you feel. his cock reaches so far into you it bulges through your pelvis; you feel it and you're jelly all over again.

he takes both his arms and hold you by your shoulders, hit after hit after hit sending you deeper into oblivionㅡ and you can only moan and cry as you feel your orgasm approaching. desperately, you clench around his cock, sending joel into a frenzy. "wanna come, pup? tell me." he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." you don't know if you're crying because you feel too good or because of how desperately you need to come.

"come then, make me proud, baby." you writhe as the knots in your core begin to untie, shaking under joel whilst it hits you like a wave of warmth and frost at once. it doesn't take long for him to reach his limit, digging his nails through your thighs, gritting his teeth as he leaves bruises onto you, you wish would never go away.

"need'a come babyㅡ shit! where, tell me where baby." you feel him so deep, you're drunk on him, vision blurry and mind fogged up. you usually don't say this. "in-side- inside, sir, please.." you beg, and you don't wait more than two more seconds as joel spills his warm seed into you, causing you to lick your lips as if you could taste it. Joel holds himself over you, panting as he trails soft kisses onto your back. "did so good, babygirl." you smile stupidly, rolling your hips against his.

"soㅡ" he makes a pause. "you still want those tickets?"

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 hoohououiuoooio hi guys im kind of pretty obsessed with joel rn so i gotta quench my thirst. this has 3.1k words. hope u like it!! muahhhh thank u again for 150!!!! if u see any grammatical errors no u didn't.

[naturesapphic]

Reader seeing pictures of nat being close to wanda and kind of gets jealous but mostly insecure, so insecure that they go into subspace and start mumbling things (amongst the lines of "im mommy good girl" "mommy loves me" "her good girl" or sum like that) and nat comes home and comforts them and calms them down?

also sorry for my english its not my first language:)

Insecurities

Mommy!natasha romanoff x little!fem!reader

Warnings: little bit of Wanda and Natasha, hurt/comfort, age regression

Natahsa hasn’t been with you very much recently and it’s fine. I mean…you think it is. You have no reason to worry or to be insecure, but you still feel sad that your girlfriend is always so busy and when she’s not busy she always hangs out with Wanda, her best friend and your other friend. They wouldn’t betray you like that…

You were on the couch scrolling through Instagram when you saw that Natasha and Wanda posted some pictures on instagram of them together. Natasha had her arms wrapped around Wanda’s waist and on Wanda’s page, Wanda kissed nat on the cheek. Tears pricked your eyes and you immediately turned your phone off, throwing it on the other side of the couch. You whimpered and got up off the couch and started pacing back and forth while wringing your hands together.

Tears blurred your vision and you started sobbing which led you to be laid out on the floor. You weren’t thinking clearly and you started to feel yourself go into your headspace. You didn’t want to be a little right now, you had too intense emotions that your little self couldn’t comprehend right. You wiped your eyes and started to stand up but your whole body was shaking because you are so upset in this moment. You whimpered and started crawling to your chest that has your favorite little things that help you regress more and to make you feel calm.

You grabbed your favorite blankie and stuffed animal and crawled to the couch to sit. As you were calming down, the photos flashed in your mind and more tears pricked your eyes and you found yourself crying again. You started rocking yourself back and forth slowly and mumbling things to yourself.

Natasha walked up to y’all’s shared house and opened the door, using her house key. “Babygirl? Im home! Are you okay? Is your phone dead because-.” Natasha said as she walked in the house but stopped dead in her tracks to find you on the couch rocking back and forth and saying something under your breath that she couldn’t quite understand. She walked over to you and got down on her knees so she can look at you and talk to you face to face. She finally started to hear what you were saying and it broke her heart. “M’mommy good girls…” “Mommy onlys wuv mes…” “hers good girls..”

Natasha didn’t understand why you were saying this but you seemed really upset and she hates when her babygirl is upset. “Hey hey angel…it’s okay mommy’s here now..” she spoke gently so she doesn’t startle you and make you more upset. You raised your head to look at her and your bottom lip started to quiver. “Mommy Nu wuv me Nu mores..” you stated and started crying again. “No no babygirl! Where did you get a silly idea like that? Mommy loves you so much princess…” Natasha explained as she scooped you up in her strong arms and placed you on her lap on the floor she was sitting at. “Nu chu donts! Chu wuv auntie Wanda now! Chu don needs mes Nu mores..” you stated and sniffled.

Natasha then realized what you were upset about. She should have known that those pictures would put thoughts in your head. You were working on your insecurities and jealousy problems but nat was there every step of the way and understood you. She thought it was cute how jealous you could get but it does make her sad that you feel that you aren’t good enough for her because for nat, it’s the other way around. She still can’t believe that you chose her to be your girlfriend and caregiver, but she thinks the stars that she gets to be.

“Babygirl…I’m sorry that those photos upsetted you so much. But know that me and Wanda are just friends and that’s it. That’s all we are. She can’t replace you. No one can. You are my y/n/n and you are one of a kind. You are mine and I am yours. Nothing will change that my princess..” she explained to you and you looked up at her innocently “chu mines an I yours? Forever mommy?” You asked genuinely and Natasha felt herself tear up at how broken and sad you sounded. “Forever and always my little dove. It’s you and me against the world.” Natasha confessed and you felt yourself lean into her touch and cuddle yourself into her.

“We will talk more about this later. You don’t need to worry about such big emotions and problems okay baby? But just know that mommy loves you and only you.” Natasha said as she knows that even when you are in your headspace, you tend to worry about everything just like you do sometimes when you are out of it. Natasha and Wanda are just close friends, they feel like sisters to each other and plus they would never ever betray you like that. Ever. Natasha is so in love with you and only you. The reason why she keeps hanging out with Wanda so much recently is because she is planning on proposing to you soon and Wanda is basically a chef and great decorator and she knows the both of you very well to make the best proposal and wedding ever.

Natasha picks your sleepy self into her arms and Carries you to y’all’s shared room and tucks you in the bed. She puts on her black tank top and sweatpants to sleep in and lays besides you in bed and brings you close to her body so she can hold you. She loves you and only you, nothing will ever change that.

A/n: I hope that this was okay! Im sorry this was so late but I hope that y’all enjoy! Remember that winter/Christmas requests are still open! And remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all!

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Hermione Baddeley (Brighton Rock, Passport to Pimlico, Mary Poppins)— An absolute mainstay of British films from this period. She’s an icon who never takes shit from anyone in any of her movies, dresses for the occasion, and has the best line delivery! Also she started out in silent movies, and was a close friend of Noel Coward. In a desperate attempt to appeal to a large tumblr fandom, I will also point out that her first husband and one of her children were both called David Tennant. You like that name, don’t you tumblr??

Glynis Johns (Mary Poppins, The Court Jester)—LISTEN, I'd let that woman's voice with all its gravely hoarseness (positive) wash over me all goddamn day, but if that's not enough she managed to play the straight woman to Danny Kaye's jester, all with her cleavage so plunging it might as well have been catapulted into the ocean right after Basil Rathbone

This is round 1 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Glynis Johns propaganda:

She walks the line between sexy and cute. Her best role for me is in "The Court Jester as Maid Jean. She's fantastic as the soft but tough captain of the outlaw band and she looks stunning in every gown she wears throughout the film. And of course we can't forget her iconic turn as the suffragette mother, Mrs. Banks, in Mary Poppins! Also shoutout to her distinctive and beautiful voice, kind of smoky and husky. Extremely hot and set her apart from many of her peers."

"Listen, listen. I was raised on Mary Poppins and "Votes for women! (step in time)" single-handedly taught me how to be a feminist. Also The Court Jester is one of my favourite movies of all time and she is UNBELIEVABLY gorgeous, charismatic, funny, and clever in it. She knocks several men out. Absolute icon."

"Like Bette Davis she has eyes to die for. Unlike Bette Davis you felt comforted by them, even when she was batting her eyelashes at you. Would glady go to Downing Street with her and throw things at the Prime minister"

"She had this wonderful wit and charm to her no matter the role and the most distinctive, striking voice!"

"She was amazing in Mary Poppins (the Suffragette song is severely underrated) and apparently she was Welsh? National pride! And she advocated for arts funding in Wales, which is very cool. Also, she died recently (RIP) making her one of the last survivors of the Golden Age of Hollywood, according to Wikipedia. Also also, she just has a cheeky energy I like? And her eyes are beautiful!"

"I mean, incredibly beautiful and talented, can do drama can do comedy. And she was a mermaid."

"I love Glynis Johns. Most of the reason is The Court Jester where she's a sensible and capable foil to whatever what going on with Danny Kaye at the time. She was also the first star I based an OC on. An OC that I still have to this day! Anyway here have some YouTube links love u bye"

Mermaid clip: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/1jUEA03mYTk

Court Jester (sharing a bed trope): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5d_qG9i054U

Court Jester (seducing the king): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-GuqFYElKg

"VOTES FOR WOMEN! Well, votes for this woman. Please."

Hermione Baddeley propaganda:

Propaganda for both Hermione and Glynis:

[reginaldqueribundus]

thinking about Luffy from the perspective of an everyday schmo in his world is hilarious. And I don’t mean “I heard he was 20 feet tall” etc., though that is still really funny. I mean think about what’s public knowledge on him.

this guy comes out of nowhere, declares war on the fucking government, blows up the centre of their justice system, punches one of the people who run your entire planet & are worshipped as gods and somehow gets away with it, breaks into the most secure prison in the world, breaks right back out again just to jump feet-first into the biggest war in recent memory during which you find out his dad's also trying to overthrow the government, his grandfather works for the government, the pirate king’s kid is his adopted brother. He is seen mouthing off to a freaking Emperor (aka one of the Four Most Scariest Pirates In The Entire World), and another Emperor casually gives him his hat back. A few weeks later he breaks into the headquarters of the world’s biggest military (which is actively hunting him btw) just so he can ring a bell, and the pirate king's right-hand man is there helping him.

And then he fucking disappears for two years.

Suddenly he's back, he teams up with a Government-Sanctioned Pirate™ to save some country you’ve never heard of by beating the shit out of Pablo Escobar and is publicly hailed as a hero?? then he works with Al Capone, a bunch of mermen and the villains from your comic books to assassinate an Emperor, wrecks her tea party and blows up her house instead, runs away and takes out a completely different Emperor while letting his buddies deal with the first one. Here’s his crew:

a guy who used to kill pirates for a living

a woman who studies ancient superweapons and blew up six ships at age 8

actual royalty

your favourite rock star

an 8ft-tall cyborg

a cat burglar in a bikini

some kind of fish monster

“God”

also he has a pet raccoon or something and apparently feeds it cotton candy

but in every photo, he's just some little fucker in jean shorts with a huge smile on his face. oh, and his other brother is Ché Guevara. absolutely buckwild. how do you cope

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 remus is used to the same day, and then you come into his life.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 please give me some grace. i havent written a full on fic in... a hot second 𖦹 record shop owner!remus x fem!reader (she/her prns) 𖦹 sirius uses he/they prns 𖦹 also. reader moves to england so she doesnt have british accent. yeah. 𖦹 lily evans being the best 𖦹 FLUFF (everyone cheered!) 𖦹 [brief] ANGST (everyone cried!) 𖦹 not proofread

༻¨*:· words ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 2.7k

Routine—a very familiar word to Remus. His days were the same. Wake up, go to work, go home, shower, then sleep. He ate the same thing for breakfast and the same thing for lunch. Dinner was the only thing he frequently changed—maybe one day, he would have pasta, and the next, he would have chicken. He hung out with friends on Saturday, and they went to the same pub every time. The topics were usually the same. Sirius met someone new, someone they claimed to be "The One," only for that person to leave their life. James usually talked about training, Lily, and updates on her pregnancy. Since school ended, things had become... predictable.

You walked into the rickety old record shop, intent on finding your favorite album. It broke on the move to the UK, and you needed it desperately. 

Upon hearing the bell ring, Remus looked up. It was part of his routine—to see who had entered his shop—and there you stood, tote bag in hand with messy, windblown hair.

After searching through the Rock section for ages, you practically squeal when you see the album.

Remus looks up as you walk to the counter, "Hi." 

"Hi," You smile. Your accent throws Remus off, and he smiles. 

He looks at the record, then puts it down, "We have this in a white vinyl," He says, "I— I didn't mark it as colored, so you probably didn't see it. I can go grab it for you?"

You eagerly nod, "That would be fantastic!"

He stands, and you realize how tall he is—it's like he's towering over you.

A moment later, he returns with the other record, "They're hard to come by," He scrawls something on the record sheet, then rings up the album.

You thank him and pay, leaving him to wonder if you'll be back.

The next time you see him, he's with a pretty girl. She's got bleached blonde hair and a cute button nose. She's beautiful. Of course, you recognize the tall man—how could you not? He and the girl make their way to the counter; they both order.

"For Remus," A woman calls out. 

Remus—that's his name.

Remus steals glances at you the entire time he's at the coffee shop.

"Who's that?" Marlene asks with a coy smirk.

"I don't know. Came into the shop a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, so you have a little crush." Marlene is full-on smirking now.

Remus goes red, "What? No." He shakes his head, "No," He repeats, trying to reassure himself that he doesn't have feelings for you.

"Sure," Marlene mutters, taking a sip of her drink.

Remus rolls his eyes.

About a month passes by until you see one another again. You walk into the shop. Remus looks up when the bell rings, and he smiles.

Sirius is there today, and they go up to you.

"What're you looking for?" 

You answer, and he leads you to the section as if you don't know the alphabet. He doesn't mean it that way, you know that. 

Still, you tease them about it, and their face goes stark red, "Sorry. I just— Sometimes record shops can be confusing in how they order things. Like, when it goes from 'C' to 'D,' does the 'D' section continue on the other side, or does it continue straight across? You know?" 

"I'm kidding around," You smile, "I've been here before. Granted, it was just once, but I know how it works. Thank you, though."

"But of course," Sirius curtsies, "Anything for you..."

"Y/n," You introduce yourself.

"I'm Sirius. Like the star," He clarifies, "Like, that's my name. S-i-r-i-u-s," They spell out.

You giggle, "Nice to meet you, Sirius."

"Nice to meet you. I love your silly accent, by the way."

"You're the one with the silly accent," You shoot back.

"Not when my accent is outnumbering yours."

You tilt your head and hum, "Strangely, I understand what you mean."

"It'd be concerning if you didn't."

"Do you frequent this shop a lot?" You ask, flipping through albums.

"My friend is the owner." Sirius shrugs.

You perk up, "Remus?"

Sirius quirks their brow, "You know him?"

You get hot, "No."

He narrows his eyes, "So, how do you know his name is Remus?"

"Well," You whisper, "I came in a while ago. He was really nice when I checked out. Then, a couple of weeks later, I saw him at a coffee shop, and they said his name when his drink was ready."

"You're a creep," Sirius raises his eyebrows.

"No!" You argue.

"Such a creep." Sirius begins walking away; you rush to follow him, "I'm telling him." He says.

You begin to panic, "Wait! No!" 

Sirius keeps walking to the front.

"Sirius," You whine, "Stop!"

"Remus!"

You silently will him to stop.

"Remus!" Sirius calls again.

"Lovely lady over here has something to tell you," He smirks.

If looks could kill, Sirius would be six feet under.

"I just– um–" You sputter out, "I just wanted to thank you for helping me with the record last time I was here."

You swear he blushes, but you don't want to look to find out.

"It was no problem," He smiles, "Maybe I could give you a call if any of their other records come in?"

Sirius smirks from the sidelines.

"Um..." It takes a moment to process, "Sure." You nod assertively, "Yeah. I would love that!"

Remus's world has turned upside down—you keep him on his toes. He stays up because, maybe, you'll call tonight. You eat lunch with him sometimes, and gone are the days when he eats the same thing every day. Gone are the days when he closes up shop at 7:00. Gone is routine.

"Do you want to have dinner tonight?" You ask, wrapping the cord around your finger.

"I'm actually going out," Remus responds. You frown, and your imagination runs wild. What if he's going on a date?

"Hello?" He asks, and you realize you've blocked him out.

"Huh? Sorry?"

"I asked if you wanted to come with me. You can meet my mates. If you want." He spits out. Saying it once is nerve-wracking enough; saying it twice is terrifying because what if you say no? What if you don't want to meet his friends? What if–

"I'd love to!" You cut his frantic thoughts off, and his heart swells.

"Really?" He asks.

"Of course!"

So, now, you're standing in front of a random pub, wondering if he's pranking you. It's been about five minutes, and you know that's not a long time to wait, but your anxiety is getting the better of you. 

Then, five turns to fifteen, and you're wondering how pathetic you look.

"Y/n?"

Your head whips to the door, "Sirius? When'd you get here?"

Sirius checks their wrist like they're checking a watch, "'Bout half an hour ago. Did the dimwit not tell you to meet us inside?"

You shake your head, "He said to meet him at the bar. So, I guess he didn't quite specify." You shrug.

"Well, come on in," He holds the door open for you.

You thank Sirius and look around for Remus. He's not hard to spot, and Sirius jogs over to their booth before whispering something into Remus's ear. He looks up and smiles brightly.

"You're here!" He exclaims.

"You're here." You say, tone almost scolding him. 

Sirius whispers something else to him.

His face drops, "Oh... sorry for not telling you to meet us inside." His mouth quirks to one side in a guilty expression.

You smile, "It's okay. I forgive you." You sit next to him.

"Oh, thank god," He rests his hand on his chest, "A pretty girl being mad at me would've been my death."

Heat blossoms in your chest.

"So..." James begins, "Now that flirt time is over, can I say hello?"

"Ha!" Sirius barks out, "Flirt time!"

Remus gets warm, "This is James, another one of my school friends. James, this is y/n."

All James says is: "You're his lock screen, y'know?"

Remus kicks him under the table.

"I mean–" James smiles, "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I have never seen your face before."

"Smooth," Sirius whispers to James.

You smile at Remus's red face.

"Ignore him, please?" He begs.

You nod.

Sirius and James tell you embarrassing stories about Remus for the rest of the night, and the boy starts to regret introducing you to them as a pair.

 At the end of the night, he drops you off. 

Rubbing his face, he sighs, "I hope they weren't too much."

You smile brightly, and Remus feels like he could fall to his knees, "I had an amazing time. They're really fun, Remus."

You leave him with a kiss on the cheek—he puts his hand up to the spot and smiles the whole way home.

"I've missed you," You say into the phone.

"I've missed you, too. You should just let me come over." Remus begs for the umpteenth time.

"I don't want to get you sick," You frown, "That would be horrible."

"It wouldn't be the end of the world. We could quarantine together," He smirks, "I could make you soup, and we could cuddle together on the couch and watch some ridiculous rom-com."

"Take a girl out on a date first!" You joke.

"I would if you weren't so busy being poorly." Remus groans.

"So you're asking me out on a date?" You smile and do a little happy dance.

"I guess I am."

He's smug, and you can tell.

A week later, you sit in a fancy restaurant—the kind where the prices aren't even on the menu. Remus is fidgety. He's wearing his nicest button-down, and you think it looks funny on him. He gets red at your comment and looks down at the table with pursed lips.

"I just meant that I'm so used to you wearing those comfy sweaters. You look good, though." You earnestly smile at him.

"You look nice tonight, yourself."

"Well, I'm going on a date with this charming boy. I wanted to impress him."

"I hear he's very impressed."

You insist on paying, but he won't let you. As soon as you pull out your wallet, he snatches it from you.

He kisses you before leaving you at your car, and you don't want it to stop. It's soft and tender, and it's everything you hoped it would be. 

One date turns to two, which turns to five, and now you're anxiously pacing in your flat. You're dating Remus; you have been for a few months, and you're not sure when it's an appropriate time to ask the question, but you'll ask tonight. Except Remus doesn't come. He doesn't call, either. 

After an hour of worrying, you call Sirius.

"Hello?" He answers—it's obvious he's high.

"Hi. Do you know where Remus is?"

Sirius laughs, "Right here."

"Can I talk to him?"

You hear rustling as Sirius passes the phone.

"Hello?"

"Remus," You whine.

"Hey there. What's going on?" He's calm—too calm. He's also high.

"You were supposed to come over tonight." You frown—it's a fruitless effort. He can't see you.

"Shit. 'M sorry, baby," He frowns, too. You can hear it.

"'S okay. I was just really looking forward to seeing you." You dramatically slide down your wall into a crouching position.

"I'd come over, but, y'know," He wanders off.

"You're so high you can barely walk?" You offer.

He takes it, "Yes."

"It's alright," You sigh, and Remus feels terrible, "Promise you'll come over tomorrow?"

"Promise," He answers.

But then tomorrow comes, and Remus has yet to show up. So you dial his number, but he doesn't pick up. An hour passes until your phone rings, and you're anxious and giddy and hopeful as you pick it up.

"Sorry." Remus's voice is gruff, and you can hear the guilt in his tone.

"It's okay. You can still come over. It's not too late."

"No," He sighs, "I'm sorry, but I can't... I have to break up with you."

Your face drops with your stomach, "What?"

"I can't be with you. I'm— I'm sorry."

"No!" Tears blur your vision, "You can't just tell me we're over. Explain yourself!"

"I just can't do it anymore. It's too hard."

You choke out a sob, "What's too hard? Loving me?"

"No," He sighs, and he sounds tired, oh so tired, "I'm incapable of giving you what you need."

"And who gets to say what I need?"

"Y/n, for your sake, I'm ending this. I can't provide for you in the way you'll need me to."

"Remus," You sigh, "I don't understand. What do you mean you 'can't provide' for me?"

"I can't emotionally be there for you. I'm sorry." 

And as you hear the dial tone, you let your sobs out.

You feel empty. Your only friends are Remus's; now you feel like you can't talk to them. 

"You're daft," Sirius scolds, "Y/n was lovely, and you break up with her over the phone?!"

Remus hangs his head in shame, "Yeah, I did."

Then Remus looked up and was met with one of his worst fears. He'd been on Lily Evans's bad side more than once, but never like this. He'd only seen this stare a handful of times, but not once was it directed at him, until now.

She marches over to the booth, never breaking her stare, leans close to Remus, and slaps him, "You twat!" 

He doesn't know what to say, so he holds his cheek and waits for her to continue.

"You hurt an exceptionally lovely girl for what?! Because you're insecure? Because it was too scary to feel loved so deeply? That girl gave you her all, Remus! And this is how you treat her?" Lily's face is red at the end of her rant, and Sirius tries to hold in their snickers.

Lily narrows her eyes at Remus, "I can read you like a book, Remus Lupin. I know what's going on in that magnificently stupid head of yours! Go apologize to her!"

"I can't," He murmurs, "I've already ruined it."

She rolls her eyes, "You won't know unless you try, and not knowing will eat at you, and you will die confused, sad, and alone."

"She has a point," Sirius agrees, "I mean... we all know you'll just mope around until we push you to talk to her, but by then, it'll be too late. She will have found somebody, and they'll get married, and you'll just be that bloke from when she moved here. Go talk to her."

"What do I say?"

It's almost midnight when a knocking at your door wakes you. Groaning, you get out of bed and make your way to the door.

You undo the bottom lock, keeping the chain in place.

"Yes?" You peek through the crack, surprised to see Remus holding flowers on the other side.

"I'm sorry."

He thinks he's surely blown it when you close the door, but he hears the chain clanking as you fully unlock it.

"What are you doing here?"

Remus wants to cry at the sight of you. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, with red tracing your waterline.

"I—" He has a whole script planned out but seems to have forgotten every word, "I have flowers," He settles on.

"For me?"

He nods.

"What are you doing here?" You ask again, taking the flowers.

"I'm here to apologize. I was a dick the other day."

You tilt your head, "You mean the other day when you broke up with me?"

Remus almost doesn't catch the sarcasm, "I'm sorry. I get so caught up in my head—"

You turn from him, "Come in," You mutter as you walk into your kitchen.

He closes the door behind him and toes his shoes off, "I get scared when I let somebody get too close."

"Tea?"

"Yes, please."

He watches as you move around your kitchen, grabbing cups and boiling the water. He's missed you.

"Why let me get close at all, then?"

"Because I like you."

You turn and look at him, "Do you, now?"

Remus sighs, "Look, I fucked up, I know that. Do you think we can try again?"

You walk over to him, "You said you can't give me what I need. What does that mean, Remus?"

"I'm unfit to be with somebody."

"I don't think so. You were wonderful the past three months. So wonderful that I think, if you work on yourself, we can give this another go."

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, leaning in.

"I look terrible," You laugh.

"No," He rests his forehead against yours, "You're always beautiful."

"Kiss me." 

hi guys sorry if this is bad😇😇

my lovely mutuals <33 @sepptember @violetteshoneybee @ay0nha @maroon-winestain @prongsio @imabee-oralizard @storyofaromance @queerpumpkinnn @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @zvdvdlvr @reysdriver @g1rld1ary @starsval @vampieteeth @maddipoof @bruisedboys @ell0ra-br3kk3r

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Sarah, Tommy, Emily, and JB unknowingly banding together for the win. Joel is his own warning. Inappropriate (or entirely appropriate?) use of a massager. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Eight | Main Masterlist

“Girl, you’ve got it baaad,” Emily teased, watching you eye your phone every five seconds. The pair of you were getting drinks at your favorite watering hole the Saturday before your first full week of officially teaching.

“I can’t help it, Em. He’s got this, like, hold over me or something,” you replied sheepishly, one hand tucking your phone away in your back pocket. You were starting to annoy yourself with how often you checked for texts from Joel.

“You’re in love, that’s what happens.” Emily shrugged and sipped at her fruity mixed drink. “How’d the holidays go?”

Your expression lit up as you told Emily about your first major holidays with the Millers. Having spent some holidays with them while you were still away at school, your dad already fit into their family dynamic seamlessly. You were a happy and much-loved addition to the festivities and there was plenty of laughter among the adults at how badly Tommy botched dinner for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why Joel and your dad ever let him try again after the wreck that was Thanksgiving dinner was beyond you. Thankfully, your dad saved the day both times with his unparalleled grilling skills.

“So, it’s safe to say that JB’s still happy about you and Joel being together?” Emily asked after your own laughter at recounting the mess died down.

“Is he ever,” you replied with a shake of your head. “He loves to rib Joel on making an honest woman out of me. Joel takes it in stride, but I’m kinda afraid that it’ll scare him off if my dad keeps it up.”

“Oh, please! That man is clearly head over fuckin’ heels for you. Hell, he’s already told you and JB that he loves you, he’s not goin’ anywhere!” After taking another sip of her drink, Emily shot you a pointed look. “When the hell am I gonna meet Joel, anyway? I feel like you’re actively hiding him from me.”

You stilled.

Were you doing that? You didn’t think so, not at first, but… If you were honest with yourself, there was an element of truth to Emily’s accusation.

“Shit, Em. I’m not doing it purposefully, I swear,” you replied beseechingly, pausing to figure out how to properly explain things. Finding a scratch in the tabletop suddenly fascinating, you stared at it while continuing. “I just have to share him so much already, between Sarah and my dad, even his brother – not that I begrudge him spending time with any of them, especially Sarah! It’s just… when I have time with him, I want to keep him to myself. You know what I mean?”

God, that made you sound so selfish. You looked up to find Emily grinning at you.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I’ve never seen you so in love. It looks good on you.” Emily clinked her now empty glass against your half-full one. “Just promise me that I’ll get to meet him soon. We could do a double date or something, so it doesn’t take away too much of your precious alone time.”

Over another round of drinks, you made plans for a few Fridays from now, quietly hoping Joel wouldn’t mind.

Heading home, you longed to see Joel, but it was late, and he was spending time with Sarah. He went to great lengths to make sure his daughter did not feel left out or neglected while the two of you explored your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of them to hang out. You loved that about him and knew how important that quality time was for Sarah. Besides, you planned to head over there tomorrow to get a little quality time of your own ahead of the busy week ahead.

In the morning, you slept in and lazed around the house for a while, taking the opportunity to relax and ease into your day while your dad puttered around until mid-day. You hadn’t heard from Joel, but that didn’t bother you – he knew you planned to come over. Around one o’clock, you headed over to the Millers, picking up some pizza and beer on the way.  

Pulling up in front of the house, you found your usual spot in the driveway taken by your dad’s truck while Tommy’s truck blocked the remaining space. With a huff you parked along the curb. You would have ordered more pizza if you knew everyone would be here.

“Howdy boys,” you greeted as you walked in. “I come bearing pizza and beer, though I fear we’ll need lots more with this crew.”

Only one set of eyes turned away from the football game playing on TV as they all greet you in return. Getting up from his beloved corner spot on the couch, Joel took the pizza and beer from your hands and placed them on the coffee table before pulling you into the kitchen for a proper greeting.

“Hi darlin’, I’ve missed you,” Joel murmured, his voice already raspy from yelling at the TV. He pulled you close until your bodies were flush together and kissed you deeply. Like a magnet, your fingers threaded through his messy curls, tugging gently as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Mmm, I missed you, too, handsome. Didn’t know you were having company.”

Joel flashed his big cow eyes at you, eyebrows pinched together regretfully. “’M sorry, baby. I didn’t know they were coming by to watch the game ‘til they got here. Apparently, my TV is the best, so here they are. Hope that’s ok. I’ll kick ‘em right the hell out if you want me to.”

The thought did cross your mind.

“Nah, enjoy the game with the boys. I’ll sit with you guys for a bit then hang with Sarah until they leave.” Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you nuzzled the tanned skin of Joel’s neck and he hummed.

“You gonna stay over?”

You shouldn’t, not on a school night – your first as a bona fide teacher – but you had so little time together. “Sure. Just don’t keep me up too late, Mister. Those kids are exhausting, and I need my energy for the first day.”

“Miller! Stop neckin’ with my daughter and get your ass out here!” your dad’s voice bellowed through the house, causing the two of you to spring apart.

“Jesus, Dad,” you sighed, pecking Joel on the lips one last time before following him out to the living room. When would the game be over?

Surprisingly, you enjoyed the time watching the game with everyone. Even Sarah came down to join you all at half-time, book in hand, and sat between you and Joel reading. It was a lovely afternoon and a lovelier night as Joel held you in his arms, whispering words of praise into your hair until you fell into a deep slumber.

Your first week of teaching passed in a blur. After a month of assisting the prior teacher before his official retirement, the students knew you and respected your authority, setting the stage for an overall lovely experience. You started off with earth science lessons and most of the kids were engaged and eager to learn. Of course, you had a few little challenges with difficult students testing their boundaries, but you felt good about the way you handled each situation.

You stayed later after the students were dismissed, using the time to organize the room to your liking and get the lesson plans in order. Sarah perched at one of the long wooden tables working on her homework while you completed your tasks. The pattern offered you and Sarah some quality time together and the young girl found great enjoyment in putting you on the spot, especially when her dad was the topic at hand.

“JB keeps telling dad he needs to marry you,” Sarah blurted randomly Friday afternoon. “Do you want to?”

Staring at her wide-eyed, unsure what to say, you merely shrugged. Why was everyone so focused on the two of you getting married? You only started dating a few months ago!

Tilting her head to the side with a little smirk, Sarah replied, “That’s not a ‘no’.”

She was getting to be as bad as your dad and Tommy.

“You could be my stepmom! I always wanted one since I didn’t get to have a regular mom.���

Despite Sarah’s cheerfulness at the idea, your heart ached for all the real mom-related experiences she didn’t get to have. You knew exactly how that felt. If marrying Joel wasn’t already something you hoped for in the future, it would be after hearing Sarah expressing her desire for a stepmom, for you as a stepmom.

Sarah kept talking, while you lost yourself in thought.

Would you be a good stepmom?

God, you hoped so.

You never had one, JB chose to never get too serious with anyone after your mom, but you heard enough horror stories from your friends about their own stepmoms through the years. It sounded like a thankless job. But all the people you knew with stepparents had both birth parents still in their lives, so maybe your experience would be different.

The late bell chimed, drawing you out of your ever-spiraling thoughts.

“Come on, nugget. Let’s get you home,” you said, pushing thoughts of marriage and step parenthood to the farthest recesses of your mind.

“If you’re not gonna marry my dad, could you at least move in with us? It would be so great if you lived with us!”

Jesus fucking Christ in a handbasket. This kid sure knew how to keep you on your toes.

Leaning over the bar top with hunched shoulders and an aching back, Joel picked at the label on the beer bottle. He didn’t often visit the bar after work, not since Sarah came into his life, but he finally had some extra money and felt like treating himself. You stopped letting him pay you months ago, when the two of you became more to each other than just babysitter and boss, and he stashed that money away each week, saving it for what he didn’t know.

At his side, Tommy carried on about some chick he met a few weeks ago. A pretty attorney who was way out of his league and already turned him down twice. Like a dog with a bone, Tommy showed no signs of giving up yet.

“You better be careful, brother. She may get a restraining order against you if you don’t take it easy,” Joel said, voice a rich rumble.

Tommy waved him off with a chortle. “Oh please. She’s loving it. Chicks like that like being pursued.”

“If you say so.” Joel didn’t know this woman or what she liked, but he knew for a fact that you would hate it if a guy relentlessly pursued you after turning him down, not once, but twice. He smiled at the thought of you kicking a guy like that in the fucking balls to prove that you were very much not interested.

He full on laughed at the thought of you kicking his little brother in the balls, causing Tommy to glance sideways at him.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothin’,” Joel grumbled, clearing his throat. Thoughts of you continued to invade his mind, just like they always did. You were always on his mind, and he loved it. If only you were always in his bed… Joel cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. How do you know if it’s too early to ask a girl to move in?”

Tommy groaned. “Why you always askin’ me this shit? How am I supposed to know? I have less actual relationship experience than you do.”

“Who else am I supposed to ask, huh? JB? Don’t imagine that’d go over too well,” Joel replied with a defeated shrug, but Tommy conceded the point.

“You need more friends, man.” Clearing his throat, Tommy gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, the way I see it, you love her, and she loves you, everyone knows it, and JB and Sarah are both happy for the two of you. Moving in together seems like the logical next step, right?”

Joel nodded, still uncertain.

“Only the two of you can know if the pace is right. Seems to me like you both waited long enough for the right one to come along. You’ve both been through some shit, why waste any more time?”

Damn, when did his little brother become so insightful?

“Alright, I get your point. Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask?” As secure as he was in your love for each other, Joel still floundered a bit at each new step in the relationship department.

“I dunno, brother. You’re just gonna have to grow a pair and find out.”

“Fuckin’ grow a pair,” Joel grumbled, punching Tommy in the arm, hard.

The pair bickered through another round, like brothers do, before calling it an evening. Eager to see you and Sarah, Joel didn’t want to waste away the evening in the bar with Tommy. As they walked out to their trucks, Tommy stopped Joel with a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, brother. In all seriousness, I think she’ll say yes, so just ask, ok?”

Joel nodded his thanks and confirmed plans for watching the game at his place on Sunday, before climbing into his truck. The trip home didn’t take long, and for that Joel was grateful. His back ached after a busy week of hard labor followed by an hour sitting hunched over the bar. He’d kill for a massage.

The house was quiet when he walked in, no sign of you or Sarah on the ground floor. Kicking off his work boots and dropping the truck keys onto the hook near the door, Joel slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Light flooded into the hall from Sarah’s bedroom, the sound of giggles and low voices echoing in the air. He moved slowly, quietly, until he could just peek around the door jamb. You sat on Sarah’s bed, the little girl perched in front of you, as you braided her wiry curls.

The sight melted Joel’s insides into a gooey puddle.

This. This was exactly what he wanted to come home to everyday.

He had to ask you to move in.

Just as he straightened up with a silent groan, ready to enter the room, Sarah’s sweet little voice left him frozen in place.

“I think you’d make the best stepmom.”

“This again,” you griped playfully. “You do, huh? Why?”

Was this something Sarah brought up before? Joel held his breath, waiting for Sarah’s response.

“Because you love my dad and you love me, you’re always kind even when things go wrong, you’re smart, and you like spending time with me. But most of all, because you do the things a mom does even though you’re not my mom and you don’t have to.”

He caught your gasp even though you tried to hide it from Sarah. You were as affected by Sarah’s heartfelt, innocent confession as he was. His adorable, sweet little girl knew you’d make a great stepmom and he agreed with all her reasons. If possible, he fell further in love with you in that moment after seeing you through his daughter’s eyes.

“Well, you’re right, nugget. I do love you and your dad, and I hope that one day, when the time is right, I can be your stepmom. Until then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing, ok? I’ll still love you to pieces even without the official title.”

You choked out the words, on the verge of tears, and Joel felt his own eyes begin to water. Unable to bear it any longer, he swept through the doorway and pulled you both against his chest in a big bear hug. His precious girls. He loved you both more than words could express.

“Daddy! You’re squeezing too tight! Imma burst!” Sarah shrieked with laughter as he tossed her onto the bed and began tickling her with one hand, his other still holding your close.

“Did you…” Your eyes searched his, a hint of worry hiding in their depths, and Joel grinned, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I heard it all,” Joel confirmed, confidence bolstered knowing you wanted to marry him at some point. Conveying every feeling held in his heart through his eyes, he added, “Move in with us. Please.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, darlin’.”

The three of you celebrated with ice cream after you agreed to move in with them before putting Sarah to bed. By then, Joel’s back ached something fierce and you offered to use the message gun he forgot he had.

“Lay face down on the bed, my love,” you directed, watching with adoration as he tugged the shirt over his head, jeans hanging low on his hips. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he settled on the soft mattress. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Joel murmured, huffing when you climbed over him to straddle his ass.

Turning on the massage gun, you put it on the middle setting and pressed the ball against the flesh of his traps. Even through the device, you could feel how tight those muscles were. It must be where he held his tension. Over the next half hour, you worked the massager over his back, soaking in the grunts that bordered on pain and relief. Somewhere along the way, the groans turned pleasurable, and Joel rolled onto his back, leaving you to straddle his thighs as the bulge in his jeans grew.

Joel’s hands moved to undo the button on his jeans, but you batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. With wide, wondrous eyes, he watched you adjust the setting on the massager and run it along the seam of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching with interest at the vibration. “Don’t stop.”

Hands gripping your hips, he bucked up into the delightful buzz of the massager, a steady stream of moans falling from his lips as the vibrations spread from his balls upwards to the head of his cock. Fuck, if it felt that good through his jeans, how good would it feel directly on his cock?

“Do you want me to increase the speed setting?” you purred, pressing the massager harder against him.

“Oh God, fuck. Yes… ungh. Please.” The words fell from his lips in a series of whimpers as you adjusted the settings. Within moments, he moaned a bit too loudly and came in his pants. You didn’t let up on the pressure though, the vibration drawing out his orgasm until every last drop of his load was blown and his body nearly convulsed with the overstimulation.

Chest heaving, he watched you switch off the massager and run your fingers along the large wet spot on his jeans, his cock twitching tiredly in response.

“That was fucking sexy,” you murmured, enthralled with the mess you just made of him.

“Yeah? Lemme see that thing. Think it’s my turn now, pretty girl.”

Tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

@lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg

@ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby

@deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981

@marirxse @lizzie-cakes @tynakub

[allyallyorange]

Back at it with Ateez AT AU

Hongjoong in a band + meeting Seonghwa

Read what @nnnnnnnothingtoseehere wrote cus its fun

Hongjoong blames the enormous box of posters in his hands. It’s big enough to entirely block his view of his own feet, and he can’t even see the raised section of the pavement until it’s too late. 

He hits the ground hard, posters spilling out of the box and rolling away. His hands took most of the fall, which is better than his face. 

He sits up slowly, hissing at the sight of his own scuffed up palms. He’s thankful it’s just his palms; he definitely needs his fingers for tonight. 

His palms will have to wait; he has multiple posters suddenly making a break for freedom. 

As Hongjoong staggers to his feet, he has a brief moment of thankfulness for the fact that the venue they’re performing at is located on a quieter street. There aren’t many pedestrians around, meaning less people to potentially step on the posters. 

He still breaks into a jog to try and catch some of them before they roll into the street. Not too fast though; rock stars don’t run. 

He has to bend down to gather up the posters, and soon has an armful. He is straightening up to bring them back to the box when he realizes there’s someone helping him. 

Hongjoong can’t see much of the stranger at the moment, white hair falling into his face as he scoops up several posters. He’s wearing an oversized black and white striped shirt, the demon notices absently, and has a tote bag slung over one shoulder that threatens to fall off as he reaches for another poster. 

The stranger stands up fully, allowing Hongjoong to actually get a look at him. 

He’s clearly human; Hongjoong could tell that just from his skin tone. Besides that, the demon can only make vague guesses about his age. He seems young-ish, but Hongjoong honestly has no idea. Besides that, he has incredibly round eyes, and an awkward smile. 

“Do you have somewhere to put these?” the stranger asks, lifting his armful of posters slightly. 

“Uh, yeah,” Hongjoong answers. 

He immediately turns on his heel, heading back to the box that he left on the ground beside the merch stand. He drops his bunch of posters into the box, suddenly very self conscious about everything he is doing. 

The stranger has followed him, and proceeds to kneel down beside the box to put his armful of posters away, making sure they’re neatly in place. 

Hongjoong stands there watching him for a second before he realizes he’s being weird. He heads back out to gather up the last few posters, returning to hand them to the very detail-oriented stranger. 

“There we go,” he finally says once the last roll is put away. “All done.” 

He stands up then, and Hongjoong realizes very quickly that he is several inches taller than him, despite his boots. He knew he should have gone with the three-inch heel. 

 “I’m Seonghwa, by the way,” the stranger says with another smile.

He sticks his hand out, and Hongjoong tries to take it in a cool and nonchalant manner. 

“I’m Hongjoong,” Hongjoong answers. 

“Nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says easily. “I like your outfit.” 

Hongjoong can’t resist grinning at the compliment. He likes his outfit too, and may be wearing it hours before he needs to because he likes it that much. 

“Thanks,” he replies. “I like your hair.”

Seonghwa laughs slightly at that and thanks him, reaching up to comb his hair back with one hand. 

“So, what is all the paper for?” he asks, gesturing to the box on the ground between them. 

“They’re posters,” Hongjoong tells him. “I’m setting up the merch stand.” 

He steps slightly to the side so Seonghwa can see the table and booth behind him, already half-covered in t-shirts. 

“Oh,” Seonghwa says, eyes widening. “The Demon Prince? Is that the name of a show?” 

“A band,” Hongjoong corrects. “My band, actually.” 

“Really?” Seonghwa’s whole face lights up in excitement. “You’re the front man?” 

Hongjoong nods proudly, maybe sticking out his chest a little more. 

“What kind of music do you play?” Seonghwa asks, tilting his head as he waits for Hongjoong’s answer. 

“Rock,” Hongjoong answers easily. “Sometimes I switch it up a little, but I’m keeping in a more hardcore punk vein right now.” 

Seonghwa makes suitably impressed noises, and Hongjoong congratulates himself mentally for doing so well at this. This is easy! 

“Rock can be a really nebulous term,” he continues. “I don’t really care for some of the more laid back stuff that people call ‘rock’. Things like that misrepresent the genre and are just bad press in a lot of ways.” 

Hongjoong can feel himself loosening up as he talks; he knows about this kind of stuff and is very comfortable talking about it. He widens his stance slightly, leaning against the booth wall behind him and incorporating a few hand gestures. 

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Seonghwa interjects after a few moments. “But you hurt your hands.” 

Hongjoong had honestly forgotten about his scraped-up palms. He flips his hands over, noting the way some of the deeper scratches are now oozing blood. 

“Oh yeah,” he says casually. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” Seonghwa tells him. He has stepped closer, and now reaches out to take one of Hongjoong’s hands, his touch gentle. 

The demon immediately freezes, incredibly aware of how small his hands look next to Seonghwa’s much bigger ones. 

“You should really wash them off,” Seonghwa is saying, bending over slightly to get a better look. “You don’t want anything to get infected.” 

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” Hongjoong answers. “There’s a sink inside and stuff.” 

He may have seen one briefly. He honestly isn’t sure. 

For a split second he’s sure Seonghwa is going to haul him to the possibly-imaginary sink right then and there. The human doesn’t, instead letting go of Hongjoong’s hand to dig in his tote bag briefly. 

“I thought I had some,” he mutters, pulling the bag halfway off his shoulder to look inside better. “Oh, here they are!” 

He triumphantly holds up a small plastic container decorated with cartoon animals. Hongjoong blinks at it for a second. 

“What is it?” he asks flatly. 

“They’re bandaids,” Seonghwa tells him, opening the container. “You’re going to need something if you have to play tonight.” 

“Oh,” Hongjoong says. “I guess you’re right.” 

Seonghwa gives him another smile, as well as a small handful of bandaids. 

“Thanks,” Hongjoong tells him, slipping them into his pocket. 

“Of course,” Seonghwa replies. “I’m glad I carry them.” 

Hongjoong watches as he puts the container back in his bag, then adjusts the strap so it hangs comfortably again. 

“Hey,” Hongjoong says abruptly, getting Seonghwa’s attention again. “Do you want to come to the show?” 

“Me?” Seonghwa asks, blinking a few times. 

“Yeah,” Hongjoong says. He doesn’t know who else the human thinks he could be talking to. “It starts at 8 tonight, right here.” 

He pauses for a second. 

“Well, not right here,” he quickly amends. “But at this venue.” 

“I knew what you meant,” Seonghwa assures him. “And while I would love to, I can’t. I have a kid at home, and he doesn’t like crowds at all.” 

Hongjoong nods slowly, thinking quickly over everything he knows about human children. It’s really not much, but he does know it’s probably not a good idea to leave babies alone at home for a long time. 

“That’s cool,” he replies, hoping this comes across as a nonchalant and normal response. 

Seonghwa clearly takes this to mean that Hongjoong thinks children as a whole are cool and that he definitely wants to hear more about them, his whole expression immediately brightening. 

“He’s a really sweet kid,” the human says, digging in his bag again. “Here’s a picture of him when he was little.” 

He holds out a small, well-loved picture, the edges tattered and almost soft. Hongjoong leans forward slightly, squinting at the miniature human who is in turn squinting at the camera in the picture. The demon can’t really make out much of their face, but he supposes they’re rather cute. 

“Nice,” he says vaguely, leaning back. 

“He’s a lot bigger now,” Seonghwa says, flipping the picture back around to look at it for a moment. “I think I have another picture somewhere-” 

“I’m good,” Hongjoong hurriedly says. “I don’t really like kids.” 

“Ahh,” Seonghwa replies, carefully putting the picture back in his bag. 

The conversation kind of dies there, with the two of them just awkwardly looking at each other, the box of posters, then each other again. 

“Do you want a poster?” Hongjoong finally says, desperate to break the silence somehow. “Since you can’t come and did help me pick all of them up.” 

“Oh,” Seonghwa says, looking down at the rolled up posters. “I didn’t realize they were posters.” 

Hongjoong laughs awkwardly at that, bending down to pick one up quickly. 

“Here,” he says roughly. 

Seonghwa takes it with a smile, thanking Hongjoong. 

“I’ll have to hang it up,” he says. “It’s not every day I meet a real rockstar.”

Hongjoong does his best to push down the immediate rush of glee that comes from the human’s words. He should definitely be totally normal about being called a rockstar; he is one, after all. 

“Hah, yeah,” he answers. “And I bet you don’t give other rockstars bandaids either.” 

Seonghwa laughs, but the demon is immediately kicking himself mentally for saying something so dumb. 

“No, you’re definitely right,” Seonghwa agrees. “I’ll certainly enjoy knowing you’ll be performing with gecko bandaids. Not every rockstar can pull that off, but I think you can.” 

Hongjoong can’t stop himself from flushing at the compliment, and he does his best to brush it off as well as he can. 

“Yeah, well,” he ends up saying. “A sense of style comes with the territory.”  

Seonghwa laughs again at that, and Hongjoong notices distantly that he looks really nice smiling like that. The thought is strange, and he shakes his head slightly to clear it. 

“So are you going to set these out?” Seonghwa asks, waggling the poster now cradled carefully in his hands. 

“That’s the plan,” Hongjoong tells him. He glances over his shoulder at the rest of the table. “I should get some of my bandmates to help.” 

“I could,” Seonghwa offers quickly, looking a little surprised by his own suggestion. “If you’re ok with it, that is.” 

“Uh, sure,” Hongjoong says, running a hand through his hair. “If you want to.” 

Seonghwa immediately nods, gaze flicking between Hongjoong’s face and the table behind him. 

“I like organizing things,” he says in explanation. “And I’ve organized everything at home already.” 

“Well, do you want to do the t-shirts?” Hongjoong asks. He steps around to the other side of the table, with Seonghwa doing the same but on the front end. 

“How do you want them?” the human immediately asks, eyes practically sparkling. 

“I mean, they’re all the same,” Hongjoong tells him. “I was just going to set them in piles.” 

“They come in different sizes, though,” Seonghwa points out, picking up the closest shirt. “This one is a small; you wouldn’t want it in with the larges.” 

Sizing hadn’t occurred to Hongjoong at all. He quickly tries to come up with a cool way to downplay this flaw in his thinking. 

“Do whatever you want,” he finally says, waving one hand. 

He probably should have kept the hand gestures to a minimum. The movement agitated his scuffed-up palms, and Seonghwa notices his slight grimace of discomfort. 

“You should go wash your hands off now,” he says, dragging the closest stack of t-shirts forward on the table. “I can watch things here.” 

Hongjoong is opening his mouth to say that it really doesn’t hurt when Seonghwa fixes him with a stern look. 

“Go wash them,” he says firmly. “You’ll get blood all over things if you don’t.” 

Something in his voice has Hongjoong automatically turning before he can even fully register what he’s doing, heading for the door that he left propped open. 

About halfway down the hallway inside, he begins to feel a little stupid. But he does need to wash his hands, and Seonghwa made a good point about getting blood on the merch. 

He spends most of the time washing his hands wondering if he could charge extra for bloodstained t-shirts and posters.

By the time he emerges from the building, Seonghwa has unboxed every t-shirt they have and laid them all neatly out in orderly stacks. He has moved on to organizing the posters, and looks up when Hongjoong steps closer to the table. 

“Did you wash your hands?” he asks, raising an eyebrow expectantly. 

Hongjoong finds himself holding out his hands for Seonghwa to inspect, feeling curiously like a little kid again. 

“Good job,” Seonghwa tells him. “Do you want help putting on the bandaids?” 

“I’m fine,” Hongjoong replies gruffly, already reaching into his pocket for the bandaids. 

Seonghwa watches him for a long moment, but doesn’t say anything. Hongjoong focuses on the bandaids in his hands, having to figure out how to open them first. 

He is surprised to learn that Seonghwa wasn’t joking about the bandaids. The first one he opens is covered in bright orange lizards, presumably geckos. 

No one will see his palms anyways, he quickly decides. And if he really ends up hating them, he can just take them off once Seonghwa leaves. 

Hongjoong puts the bandaids on as well as he can, frustrated at how inexpertly placed most of them are. It’s hard to put them on yourself, and he may regret refusing Seonghwa’s help. However, he does have a reputation to uphold, and so he struggles through the whole handful. 

When his scrapes are covered by various colorful geckos, he stuffs the bandaid scraps into his pocket. 

“Could you look over the t-shirts?” Seonghwa asks, nodding at that half of the table. “I want to make sure you like how I did it.” 

Hongjoong steps closer to the table, slowing down to really look at the neat stacks of t-shirts. They are incredibly exact; the demon wonders absently if Seonghwa has a ruler somewhere in his bag. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 

“Looks good,” he says, glancing over at the human. “Very precise.” 

Seonghwa flushes slightly at that, grinning. Hongjoong can feel his own cheeks heating up as well. 

“Thanks,” Seonghwa replies. “Is there anything else, or just the posters?” 

“Just the posters,” Hongjoong tells him. “I couldn’t line up any more merch unfortunately.” 

“What else would you have liked to do?” Seonghwa asks, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the neat rolls of posters in front of him. 

Hongjoong relaxes now that he is back in familiar territory. He easily launches into his plans for future merchandise, which include everything from hoodies to hats to shoes. Seonghwa makes all the right noises at the right times, occasionally asking questions to show that he is still listening. 

They talk like that for quite a while, long enough that Hongjoong loses track of time. He is only reminded of how late it’s getting when he realizes that the light has definitely changed to that distinctive late afternoon color. 

Unfortunately Seonghwa notices right at the same time. 

“It’s getting late,” he says with a bit of worry in his voice. “I should be getting back to Yeosang. He’s probably worried.” 

Hongjoong blinks at him, entirely unsure of who Yeosang is. 

Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice, too busy looking over the merch table one last time as if he’s making sure nothing has moved. 

“Thanks for letting me organize things,” he says with a smile. “It was a lot of fun.” 

“No problem,” Hongjoong tells him. “I wasn’t going to stop you.” 

Seonghwa laughs at that, taking a half step back from the table. 

“Wait,” Hongjoong calls out before he can walk any further away. “Don’t forget your poster.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes immediately widen, and he retraces his few steps to take a rolled-up poster from Hongjoong’s hands. 

“Thanks for catching that,” he says with a relieved laugh. “I would have been so mad at myself if I’d forgotten.” 

Hongjoong laughs awkwardly at that, watching as Seonghwa carefully puts the poster in his bag, making sure it won’t get hurt. 

“You should come to our next show,” he blurts out. “Because you can’t make it to this one.” 

“I would like to,” Seonghwa tells him. “I really want to see what you’re like on stage.” 

Hongjoong distantly manages to form a coherent reply to that, doing his best to keep from jumping up and down from excitement. 

After his reply, the conversation kind of falls flat again. Hongjoong watches as Seonghwa’s gaze drops to the table again, one hand coming up to adjust his bag’s strap absently. 

“Well I really should be going,” he finally says, making eye contact with Hongjoong. “It was really nice to meet you.” 

“You too,” Hongjoong says awkwardly. “Thanks for helping with all of this.” 

He waves a hand vaguely, encompassing the table and everything on it. 

“You’re welcome,” Seonghwa says with a smile. “Like I said, it’s not every day I get to meet a real life rockstar.” 

Hongjoong chuckles at that, trying to seem cool again as he raises a hand to run through his hair. 

“It’s not every day I meet someone who carries gecko bandaids,” he points out, earning a genuine laugh and smile from Seonghwa. 

“Very true,” the human admits. “I guess we both had crazy experiences today.” 

They exchange mildly awkward goodbyes, and even more awkward waves when Seonghwa turns around halfway to the street and finds Hongjoong still watching him. 

In Hongjoong’s defense, he can’t just leave the whole merch table set up and unattended. That would be poor business practice. 

And maybe he just wanted to watch Seonghwa head off, poster sticking out of his tote bag. 

[fornasedensgudar]

A while back ago I had a lil rant about the pagan/heathen/witch community and made this list with my friend about some problematic aspects about our craft/faith/practise or what ever you call it to help pepole who are new to it.

Idk if it any of worth or if anyone will bother to read all this but I hope its somehow helpfull for you new ones to this path.

(Pardon my 🇬🇧, im a 🇸🇪)

1. Not every polytheist does magic or has an intrest in it and thats ok.

2. Not every norse heathen knows runes or has to know every Rune and meanings to have a meaningfull relation to the gods and nature.

3. Not every raven is a sign of Odin, sometimes it just means you saw a raven and thats just as good if not better if you ask me.

4. Being able to quote havamal in old norse or know every myth and kenning of the gods is good. But does not mean you have a stronger spirital connection the land and the gods then those who dont know it all. It just means you are good at reading. And that in it self is something you should take pride in.

5. A good acorn and some dirt is just as good if not better than any long ritual with ancient chantings sourounded by a collection of crystals.

6. The pebble you find on a walk can shine just as fine on your altar, as the amethyst that was mined and payed for.

7. Your altar dont have to look Nice, it just need to feel Nice.

8. An offering dont have to be big to work. It just have to mean something.

9. Offering one loaf of bread you baked with your own two hands, is worth more than five loafs you payed somone to bake.

10. Just because a pebble dont have a story, does not mean it never had one. And just because a star has a story, does not mean its a good one.

11. If all nature is holy, that includes the parts you dont like or find nasty. Yes even ticks and spiders, mud and horrnets. No one said you had to like holy things.

12. Your body is a temple yes, but you and only you decides what rites and offerings are right the god within said temple.

13. You can still be a drunk horny ape and be spiritual.

14. No illustration of the gods is more corect or more true to their form.

But then there is no garantee everyone will see who its meant to be. And thats ok.

15. Doing spirtual junk and practise magic or healing does not make you more enlightened...

16. Just because you wrote a book about magic, healing and spiritual matters, does not make it a good book or you a good author.

17. Just because someone you look up to said it, does not make it more right. It just means they said it.

18. Making this list to remind the pagan/witch/heathen community to hummble them selfs does not make me better. Im also doing this to just remind myself. Im not better or wiser than any of you lot.

19. Dont ever expect to have your craft respected if you dont give that same respect back to others.

20. It does not matter how old or big your coven or group is. If it has toxic and harmfull parts that clearly hurt and or make pepole unhappy. Then its ok to criticize it. Age or size does not make it untuchble.

21. If a craft or faith says its all about nature but cant change its ways, then it has clearly missed a very important thing about how nature works.

22. Every rock is an altar and every forest is a temple.

23. For every horn of mead you offer to the gods, you should plant at least one seed.

24. If all in this world has a spirit and is alive, does not mean you cant take space and exist and live in it.

25. Its not about beliving. Its about to experience and to perceive. That if you ask me, is the core of animism and polytheism.

[annaholak]

Wyrd Sisters Abroad

For this year's inktober I'm reimagining the three Lancre coven members, from Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, as modern day witches (and sending them on a trip to America).

So let me introduce you to:

Gytha "Nanny" Ogg (canon version)

Gytha is the optimist of the coven. She has buried three husbands (and that’s just the official count), she has fifteen children, innumerable grandchildren, an evil cat named Greebo, and only one tooth. She likes smoking her pipe, eating, drinking, playing her banjo while taking her bath, and singing (mostly “the Hedgehog Song” and “A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End”). She always checks under her bed before going to sleep in the hope that there might be a man hiding under it (you never know…).

And:

the reimagined Gytha "Nanny" Ogg

Don't let her pink velour tracksuit fool you; she’s not one of the working out types of octogenarians (in fact she doesn’t do anything tiring if she can help it) - but she does like to be comfy (and maybe a little bit sexy - though she probably wouldn’t admit that). Her sneakers were chosen by one of her many grandchildren and “they’re red because Nana likes red and they have stars on them because Nana is MAGIC!”. Her witch’s hat has a red ribbon on it because she does indeed like red. Not pictured is her foul-tempered, evil-smelling, one-eyed cat Greebo whom, despite all evidence to the contrary, Nanny considers to be a sweet, harmless kitten.

Esmerelda (Esme) "Granny" Weatherwax (canon left, reimagined right)

Esme is the most intimidating of the coven. She is very confident in her abilities. When she says that something is impossible she usually means “for anyone except herself”. Accordingly she is not a good loser (she hasn’t had much practice); from her point of view, losing is something that happens to other people. She’s never scared of walking through a dark forest because she knows that the most terrifying thing in it is herself. Her implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extends to other witches, very tall trees and, on occasion, mountains. Despite being an extremely powerful witch, she prefers to use headology instead of actual magic whenever possible; she is a firm believer in giving people what they need, not what they want. She is Good and she is Right, but she's not Nice. She is feared and respected, but generally not liked.

In canon she is the most "traditionally" dressed of the three Lancre witches: all black, simple dress, sturdy boots, tall witch's hat fastened to her tight bun with hatpins, and the occasional vest. Her goal is to look as much of a witch (and as intimidating) as possible.

In the reimagined version she is still dressed in all black but I opted for a different kind of intimidating-older-woman style: the ageing punk rock virgin with the evil stare.

And last but not least:

Magrat Garlick (canon version)

Magrat's name is an accident; her mother wanted to name her Margaret, but didn't know how to spell it. She is the youngest member of the Lancre coven, and the least confident in her magical abilities (probably the reason why she rarely wears her witch’s hat - instead she prefers to wear glamorous green dresses that would suit more curvy figures than hers, and slightly wilted flower crowns on her unruly hair). She also has a huge collection of occult jewellery, is a vegetarian, and believes in folk songs and the Cycles of Nature. She is the most bookish of the three witches and an excellent herbalist - something even Granny Weatherwax (who usually calls her a “wet hen”) reluctantly admits. In “Witches Abroad” she inherits a Fairy Godmother wand, but is unable to master it; the only effect she is able to produce with it is turning things into pumpkins.

And:

the reimagined Magrat Garlick

As a vegetarian on a quest to save Mother Earth, she wears clothes made of natural fibers, vegan sandals, and reusable tote bags. She’s also wearing a witch’s hat (purely because I couldn’t resist the aesthetic appeal), but it’s dark green instead of the traditional black and the shortest one of the group. She still has a soft spot for crystals and magical jewellery though. She wears an ankle bracelet with tiny bells on it (she finds the soft tinkling weirdly soothing).

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (21)

21. The dangerous Road

MASTERLIST

Summary: War came at a heavy price

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, death of a character, war and all that comes with it, mentions of pedicide (killing of a baby), threats of non-con, technically adultery, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3 k

Notes: Like I said, the pace is picking hehe, and it will get dark for a couple of chapters. SO SORRY FOR THIS LOVES

“I bled once”, you whispered to the maester, “but the symptoms hadn't stopped, I thought to be with child”

“after the birth of a child it could be tricky”, he warned with a warm smile, “forgive me my lady but I must check you out” 

It was an uncomfortable afternoon with the maester, but afterwards, you left his tower to search for Sara

The test that he had made you do was going to take time to… “develop”, so you had a couple of days before receiving any news 

Sara, and you, had started a quick net of communication throughout the North, you had contact with White Harbor, with the Lady Mara, and the Lady Bolton from the Dreadfort, all the way up to the Bear Island, even down at Widow’s watch, you exchanged ravens regularly, you even created, with Cregan, the “Dragon watchers”, dragons were faster than ravens, but you had placed outposts with huge beacons of fire that were to be lit as soon as they see or hear them, so as soon as it is lit, the next one will light them also, creating a line of fire to be seen miles away in Winterfell

You were nervous, the people were nervous, you had yet to receive news of Cregan, but if you think about it more carefully, it could be dangerous for him to be writing where they are and where theta e going, letters can be easily intercepted, an the last months you realized people who believe a man should have priority to ascend the Iron Throne over a woman is bigger than you expected.

You could have Aegon royalists within Winterfell without even knowing 

When you found Sara, you gasped

She was a mess, clutching to her own chest, heaving and crying by the window in her room

“Sara!”. you called for her name, running to her, hugging her, “what happened?”

“I don’t know!”, she managed to whine, “I saw something”

“What did you see? What happened? are you alright?”, you were so confused, she was distraught

She weeped in your arms, and you hugged her to comfort her, you directed her to sit on the bed, and you cuddled her. She eventually calmed, but she still shook with the sobs

“I don’t know what happened”, she whispered, “one minute I was here, and another…I was somewhere else”

“What do you mean?”, you asked her softly

“That somehow, I was somewhere else, I was something else”, you believed in magic, you believed in people who could dream about things that were going to happen, everyone in your family knew the tale of Daenys the dreamer and how her visions saved the Targaryens from The Doom. Once you were hiding from the boys with Helaena, and she couldn’t stop whispering about stars in the middle of the day, you didn’t listen and when the boys found you you ran from them, failing to see the edge of a wooden furniture and banging your head against it, you passed for several minutes in which you could see silvery stars under your eyelids 

But this was something else

In the book Cregan had lent you, you had read about wildlings north of the wall that could take the body of animals and use them as their own… but it was only a tale, wasn’t it?

“I was in the skies”, she continued, “I was flying, I was big, I saw Dragonstone”

“Dragonstone?”, you asked

“I think it was, I- I had never seen it”, she explain, still catching her breath, “it was big and dark, seemed like it was built front he rock itself, and… had many dragons sculptures all over”, that was a fair description of the castle of your family

“What else did you see?”, you asked

“I took flight towards the west”, she said shakily, “over the seas until I could see a castle, surrounded by a powerful wall, and a small village, under the protection of another wall”, she said, she was with you, but her eyes were seeing something outside of the room, they were lost in her memories, “the castle was made of gray rock with reddened tiles in their towers”, you paled then, “a banner was hanging from the biggest one, two black wings over a white banner, in front of a checkered black and gray field”

“House Staunton”, you whispered, “a house front he crownlands, loyal to Rhaenyra”

“They were under siege, and I was going to help them, but then…”

“Sara…”, your heart was pounding in your chest

“Two huge beasts, Vhagar, and another golden dragon flew down upon me, jaws open, a breath of fire and I…”, her eyes filled with tears again and she wept in your arms, “I could smell the burnt flesh, and the reek of death!”, she weeped again, and you held her against you

“Shhh, it’s alright”, you whispered, “it is alright”

But it was not

You could feel it 

And you were made certain the very next day

“See that he is bathed gently”, you said to the main maid that took care of RIckon, “Even though he likes the heat, just like a little dragon”you giggled, playing with his feet, “I would bathe him myself but I have a meeting with the master at arms”

“Yes My lady”, she said gently, you liked her, she was sweet and cared for RIckon as he was her own, she took him gently and accommodate him in her arms

“Who is this handsome boy that needs a bath?”, she cooed, “let’s take a bath and let mommy focus on her meeting”, she said as she walked away

You smiled as you saw her leave the rooms, but were called by a pup, Rickon’s pup as he barked at you playfully, moving her triangular tail

“Don’t believe you are free of a bath!”, you chided playfully, and he barked again but ran to hide from you with a whimper. 

You giggled

They were really clever animals Direwolves 

But as you were preparing to leave your rooms to your meeting, there was a knock on the door

“Yes?”, you asked cheerfully, as you were the Lady of Winterfell, and you needed to show yourself strong, but the face the maester had, it immediately told you something was wrong

Very wrong

“I have letter for you, My Lady”, he said, he sounded apologetic

“What is it?”, you whispered

“One if from Dragonstone, but the other… is it from Harrenhal, from Aemond Targaryen”

You palet

you received the two small scrolls, your hand already trembling, you didn’t know which one to open first, you decided, that the one from Dragonstone

It surprised you to see it was from Rhaena, you had never had a personal relationship with her, but still you read the few lines she wrote

And as you did you whimpered, bitter tears falling from your eyes

Rhaenys was dead

Her and Melys had been burnt by Aemond and Aegon in both their dragons

Just like Sara described

Rhaena goes on saying  she wanted you to hear it from her, because she knew how dear you were to her grandmother and vice-versa

“No, no, no please”, you cried, clutching your chest, falling to your knees

“My Lady!”, the maester fell to the floor on his knees beside you, clutching you tightly, “Are alright?” he placed his hand on your forehead 

“No!”, you whined, you let out a scream of pain as you felt your heart was ripped from your chest. Sara showed up, taking the place of the maester by your side, grabbing you tightly 

“I will bring you a special tea, to calm your nerves”, he left the room

“She is gone, Aemond killed her”, you whined, grabbing into Sara, “my aunt is gone”

“I’m so sorry”, she whined, “I should have seen it sooner”

“It’s not your fault”, you whispered, your voice as broken as your spirit. You then looked at the other scroll that had fallen by your skirts, this had to mean something… something else…

You couldn’t resist, you couldn’t

You opened it

What you found there didn’t surprise you, there were threats, a warning, and a demand

You whined at the sight of his poisonous words 

But now… you jumped from the grief, straight to the anger

It was him!

The source of all your pains, all your traumas, it was him, for taking your baby nephew, and now your dear aunt

It was him

And you were the only one who could stop him

Sara looked at you, petrified and scared of what she found in your eyes

“No”, she whispered, when you looked straight ahead, tears were no longer falling from your eyes, all it was there was fire, and bloodthirst, “whatever you think you need to do…”

“I have to”, you answered barely, standing from the floor, your hands made fists

“No! you need to stay here!”, she cried, “please!”

“I am the only one who can stop him, stop this”, she took the scroll from your hand and read it, and she whimpered

“Its a trap!”, she said

But you were already on your feet, grabbing your riding gear, the thickest pants you could find and the upper part to go with it

“Please! think of Cregan! of Rickon!”, she insisted 

“Is for them I’m doing this”, you said, all emotion in your voice disappeared

“Please! they can fight him”, she insisted

“I can get close to him and kill him, I’m the only one who can”

“But at what price?”, she asked

“the debt is high already”, she whispered, “and it will only take me”

“please!”, you turned to look at Sara

“Tell Cregan I’m sorry”, you whined, tears falling down your cheeks again

“You tell him yourself!”, she insisted

“Take care of my son”, you cried, “please love him as your own”

“You will!”, she said, now desperate, “you will love him, and see him grow!”

“I did the best I could for the North, I’m sorry if it wasn't enough”, you cried

“It was! but is not over!”, she grabbed your arms, “please!”

“I’m the only one that can stop him”, you insisted, “I can kill him”, she knew there was no convincing you, she can see it in your eyes

“Please”

“No one else is going to die for me”, your voice again a flat line, “Cregan will be spared, and the crown will belong to Rhaenyra”

“But please let’s wait until we can reach Cregan”

“You know what his answer is going to be”, you said, but you realized Sara was not going to let you leave, so instead, you agreed to wait

Only to sneak out in the middle of the night, after telling the nannies to take RIckon for the night claiming you needed to be alone, they took him without question.

You couldn’t dare to see Rickon for one last time, if you did, you would second guess your decision and you couldn’t

This was more important than yourself

This was about the future of the seven Kingdoms and the future of your family and everyone you loved

This was bigger

Vhaelar was waiting for you outside the Winterfell gates, she roared into the night air but at this point you didn’t care if everyone listened, you will be in the air by the time they think they can do something to stop you

So you climbed on top of your dragon, Aemond’s words burning inside your brain

“I killed Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest, it wasn’t personal, but I know your husband is marching down with his army, you have three days to come to Harrenhal, if you do not, I will burn them alive, and then I will ride North and take you anyways. Spare the Starks, give yourself to me”

You had to answer his call

It was true, you can come to him willingly, you had a dragon, you could hide a blade in your undergarments, and after, you could slay him in his sleep or something, anything, but when he said it was the end of house Stark, it meant your baby as well, pedicide is not something you would put past Aemond. You knew he was capable and able to do it

For Rickon

For Cregan

And for Sara and the North

Yourself was a small price to pay

The night was long but you didn’t plan to stop as Vhaelar flew decisively under you

You believed you had until morning until Winterfell wakes up and sends a raven to Cregan, if you manage to fly over them it will be too late also

In the air, atop your dragon, nothing could stop you

Unless perhaps, another dragon

All night, all the way south, your mind was blank, there was only grief, pain, and rage.

You did not deemed yourself as vengeful person, and yet, you wanted it, desire it, you felt a fire growing within you, that wanted to burn everything in your path

You felt such heat within you you barely felt the still cold air that hit your face in the heights, and before you even knew it, the sun was shining in the horizon.

You felt no hunger, no tiredness, no nothing

Only the rage

It was Midday when you saw the unmistakable burnt towers of Harrenhal

Your dragon growled, like she was in pain, feeling your anger

You led her to descend upon the castle with a velocity that made your stomach drop, but you didn’t care about that, you cared about vengeance

But you were in a close distance, you felt the fire burning within you, one command and you could burn Harrenhal and the Green forces within them, Aemond probably was there, inside 

“Dra-!”

As you were going to give the order, you were interrupted by a low growl. Vhagar appeared from nowhere, pushing your dragon and you in the air

Vhaelar whined as she struggled to keep in the air and you knew then and there, that against the monstrous Vhagar, you could do nothing. Even if your dragons was one of the largest 

The Queen of dragons growled in greeting and you could feel Vhaelar’s nervousness as your own.

Or perhaps you were your own

Some people would say that you are more lamb than dragon, because of your mother’s house

But they were wrong

You were a dragon he awakened 

You landed heavily by the gates, you could see the restlessness of the soldiers in you and your dragon’s presence. You abandoned the want to burn everything, against Vhagar you couldn’t win. you had to be smart about this, she had the upper hand, the surprise factor was ruined 

“WHITE DRAGON!”, they chanted all over the walls, but you didn’t attacked them

Perhaps that is what you should do.

Burn them all

But the retaliation from King’s landing and the Greens could be worse

Aemond appeared by your side, he did not hide his smile, his happiness of seeing you there. 

Bold, you assumed, as you were near your dragon, you could burn him, here and now

The temptation was great

“You came”, he greeted, “good girl”

“I came to the call of your insanity”, you growled, he came to you, quick on his feet, you took a step backwards, still he grabbed you by the back of your neck

Vhaelar growled, dangerously, but VHagr was there, right by her side, she grabbed your dragon by the neck, furiously, dangerously

“NO!”, you screamed

Vhaelar whined in agony, and Vhagar released her, it was only a warning, but her black blood flowed profusely from the injury in her neck

“NO!”, you wanted to go to her, but Aemond held on to you tight

“If you don’t want me to finish her off, you will come with me”, he had to drag you towards the castle, as you could hear her whines of agony as her pain as if was your own

He dragged you through the halls, the stench of dead was clinging into you by every forceful step, and you whined under Aemond’s brutal hold

He threw you into a room. It held no windows, no nothing, but it was furnished with the very best he could find in his proximity, you realized. A luxurious big bed, with small tales on each side, many candles all over the room to light it up since it had no windows, and a table with chairs on one corners, tapestries on the floor and hanging from the walls to give it a more comfortable feel to it, but it didn’t hide what it was, it was a prison, only made for you

“A room for a princess”, he said mockingly, closing the door behind him, “you will stay here”

“I did as you asked”, you said, trying to regain control, “I came, I did as you said, promise me you will kill no one else”, you whined, “please”, he only smirked

“I promise I will no seek the death of anyone else”, he pleaded with a hand on his chest and another raised, but all seemed like a mockery, “I only wanted you, it is good that you finally saw this”

“I don’t understand”, you whined, “why me? after everything”

“That is not for you to know, now put on the dress I selected for you”, he said, taking your shoulders and directing you to look upon the bed, where a very revealing dark green dress was waiting for you. “You are to please me, since you are married, since you didn’t want to marry me, you will be nothing else, but my whore”

A single tear fell down your cheek as you contemplated what you willingly let your life turn into. 

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker 

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog

@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @​​trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul @aelora-a @a-mexican-waffle @ateliefloresdaprimavera @alexa4040 @lrboyd @anditsmywholeheart  @weaselyssss  @scarlettqueen190 @deeeeexx @cloudroomblog @dreaming-of-the-reality

[cryptomiracle]

hoodie with a s/o hcs?? :D

Tysm for the request, it means a lot <3

WARNINGS:

Manipulation

Gaslighting

These aren't ordered, I usually categorize hcs but not this time!!

Obsession(?)

Stalking

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

he keeps a photo of you with him at all times, one in his pocket, and one in his wallet.

He has so many photos/videos of you, he genuinely does adore you

he especially likes to take candid photos of you when you're doing random tasks, whenever he's away from you, he'll scroll through his phone's gallery looking at the many pictures of you, they remind him of his home, with you.

he still actively pursues cinematography and gets you to star in his little films.

he's a heavy sleeper, and when he sleeps he spawls all of his limbs out, kinda like this "🤸" taking up the whole bed

If you wanna sleep, you're either gonna have to sleep on top of him, or on the couch cause that man is NOT getting up.

he has a box fan going at all times, all year round, no matter what season it is.

He's a morning person, he'll be up at 5 in the morning filled to the brim with energy, no coffee needed.

Sometimes, he'll accidentally wake you up, but he always makes up for it by making you breakfast.

he listens to yacht rock (america, the doobie brothers, steely dan.. the works)

he has a slight southern accent, but it's not too heavy.. until he says something like "oil" or "white" then it really comes out

he has a few freckles on his back

He enjoys tracing your features, gently gliding his fingers against your eyes, nose, cheeks, etc.

Sometimes he'll just look at you and smile, like if you're doing laundry or dishes he'll just stare at you with a grin, admiring you.

he enjoys a little gossip I won't lie

He's the type to sit in the car with you after picking you up from work, and let you tell him all about whatever drama is going on at your job.

If it's something REALLY messy, he'll ask you about it later.

He drives an old, blue and white 1972 Chevy C-10

he follows you around like a lost puppy, a creepy, kinda off-putting puppy that you don't know is there unless he wants you to know, but a puppy nonetheless.

He keeps mental tabs on people you interact with, he won't follow them around or anything, but he remembers things about them.. their name, age, how you know them, their home address, etc.

You'd be surprised at how much you could find out about a person online

The quote "I'm not a stalker, I'm an investigator" fits him perfectly

he has to make sure you're safe, it's a dangerous world out there yk.

he never ever talks to you about his emotions, or how he feels, unless you ask him directly. but all you'll get in return is:

"Honey, I'm alright.. really."

"I'm fine, how are you though?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

he feels that his problems are his own to deal with and that he shouldn't bother you with them.

when you two fight for whatever reason, (which rarely happens because he purposely goes out of his way to avoid making you upset) he has a habit of gaslighting you

he'll say things along the lines of:

"I understand but.."

"I never said that.."

"we talked about this.."

he only really manipulates/gaslights you when he's genuinely worried you may leave, (even if you aren't actually going to) he uses it as a way to make sure you stay.

for him, there is no stopping point unless knows 100% that you're gonna stay.

He will literally fall to his knees, and break down in (fake) tears in a public area and BEG you to stay with him.

He doesn't get embarrassed by it because he knows it's "necessary"

If an argument is getting too heated, he may bring up your ex-partner(s), or people you just went on dates with before you two got together, even if it didn't go any further than that. Especially if you didn't tell him about them previously.

Don't ask him how he knows about them, he'll immediately take that chance to shift the blame onto you, asking why you didn't tell him about them beforehand if you had told him about them earlier, he wouldn't have had to go digging to find out about them.

when he does that, It's really just him grasping for straws, usually in an attempt to change the subject.

If you couldn't already tell he's a smooth talker, not just in a manipulative way.

he is such a flirt, there's rarely a conversation between the two of you where he doesn't slip in a little flirting, whether you pick up on it or not.

He's sneaky like that

Since we're on the topic of him being sneaky, he's a bit of a thief.. he'll steal your things and carry them with him whenever he leaves you for more than one day at a time.

that old T-shirt you haven't worn in a year that was sitting in the back of your closet collecting dust? yeah, that's his now.

If you collect little trinkets, you'll definitely have to buy a lot more of them because he'll steal them and hide them away in the glove compartment of his truck.

He doesn't steal with malicious intent, he'll return them eventually (except for the trinkets) he just feels like he needs something of yours, other than pictures to be close to you when he can't be, yk?

Something that smells like you, to remind him of what he has waiting for him at home.

Kind of like when you randomly catch a whiff of a nostalgic smell from your childhood, how it brings you peace, even if it's only for a second.

honestly, he's not very big on physical touch. he does enjoy having little intimate moments with you, like cuddling or playing with your hair, but other than that.. he's never one to initiate it. unless of course he really needs your touch.

just being in your presence eases his mind, you're like a lighthouse standing still in the vast, dark, uncontrollable ocean he considers "his life"

You're the only person in his life whom he feels he can be truly vulnerable, truly safe with.

which is why he won't let you go, no, can't let you go. you're the only stable thing in his life, and he'd be damned if he just let you walk away.

I've decided to try a new writing style cus I like rainbows and stuff! ^^

I will be re-reading this later, please tell me if you spot any errors !!

Also, I apologize for this being short, but I kinda ran out of ideas so-

[amasugiyuusaku]

Ace Attorney Prosecutor Headcanons: Which Ones Would I Let Babysit My Child

What it says on the tin. Unhinged ramblings

Miles Edgeworth? No, probably not. It would depend on what point in the timeline, but likely a no. He is just too likely to get entirely absorbed in something and not notice your kid falling in the toilet or sticking forks into electrical appliances. Maybe for just a couple hours. It'd be funny to watch him playing, like, Candy Land.

Franziska Von Karma? Actually, depending on the kid, sure. I bet she's better with kids than you think. She would probably take them horseback riding or something really cool and rich person that they would remember forever. However she would also 100% make your kid tuna salad and when they complained about it, she'd be like THEN STARVE!

Godot? No. Nope. Absolutely not. He would literally immediately forget the child existed. If he did happen to remember he would forget they are a child and let them just like, attempt to fry bacon on the stove at age 5. The house would be burned to the ground when you got back and he would just be like How morbid a sight when the flames from Hell encroach upon our mortal plane. Almost as dark as my coffee

Klavier? Yes! Yes, absolutely! Klavier would be the kind of babysitter kids adore and call their friend. I mean come on who wouldn't love to hang out with a rock star while your parents are away? And bonus for the parents, he's actually responsible?? Fantastic. He would teach the kids to play guitar and they would write songs together and he'd put them all on an EP for their birthdays.

Simon Blackquill? For an older child, I actually wouldn't be too against it. He's snarky and not particularly tender, but he is a very caring person and I also think he would be enjoyable to converse with if you were old enough to keep up with him. He would put on old-timey samurai movies when they got tired of talking. Also, if a burglar broke in, he would absolutely kick that burglar's ass.

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi? Nope. No thank you. Those kids would be in bed with lights out at 7pm, all vegetables eaten, and crayons put away in the order of the rainbow, and the kids would HATE him for it. Definitely the type of sitter to pull out the big lectures when kids are misbehaving rather than save it for the parents to deal with. Also, I do NOT trust him not to make a child cry. Like what if the kid was like HEy wHy aReN'T yOu mArRieD yET??? You CANNOT tell me nahyuta wouldn't just be like Idk timothy, why do you still wear diapers? 🤭🤭oop! In his defense though he would absolutely play Candy Land with enthusiasm

Sebastian Debeste is the baby

Barok van Zieks? I can't decide. I think he would do his best but the unfortunate reality is that his sheer presence might traumatize a child for life. Also since he is from you know 20th century Britain I feel like his bar is kind of low for caretaking and he'd probably be like Oh yes i let her go across town a couple hours ago, i gave her money, she will be home before the sun sets! However at the same time I also feel like he's secretly a hobbyist cook and makes them a nice dinner and then afterward stokes a roaring fire in the hearth and reads Grimms' Fairy Tales

[syddsatyrn]

Chapter 1⛤Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, drugs, fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, a little angst if you squint.

⛤Words: 2.7k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old high school crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. I've got a super extra long chapter for you guys today! @hellfiremunsonn is my faithful beta reader and assists me so much. Thank you guys for making my come-back series a fun one. My next chapter will be the end of this series.

⛤Chapter: 4 "Subtle" Chemistry Star court mall is always at least a little crowded. The lively hum of conversations, laughter, and distant music formed a vibrant backdrop. Storefronts beckoned with their displays of trendy fashion, electronics, and enticing sales. Shoppers meandered through the wide walkways, their bags filled with many treasures. Neon signs buzzing, the occasional sounds of a cash register, and the scent of cinnamon drifting through the air. It was just like you remembered it. You had a blast hanging out with Robin. She picked out a brand new pair of ankle length combat boots. You both decided to get ice cream and take a break from walking around. The food court wasn’t super crowded, it was the perfect place to chat. “Can I tell you something? It’s a secret so dont go telling Steve.” “Ohhhh is it secret time?” I won't tell Stevie boy, I promise.” Robin raises her right hand, “Scouts honor.” “Okay. Uhhh…well…I slept in Eddie’s bed last night. He came home from tour in the middle of the night.” Your face turns redder with every word. “Oh shit. Wow Y/N, I didn't think you had it in yah.” She chuckles and puts another spoonful of strawberry ice cream in her mouth. “We didn't do anything!” You affirm your tone a little on the defensive side. “What!? I’m just saying you guys have been madly in love with each other since sophomore year and neither of you have had the audacity to tell each other for some unspoken reason…until now.” She's not wrong, Robin has always been one to spell it out for you loud and clear. She never holds back, it's something you’ve always appreciated about her. Robin has been telling you to come clean for ages now.

“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I don't want to screw up my friendship with Eddie. Also, he's like a big rockstar now, I doubt he has any time for stuff like that.” You explain as you sink into your chair. "He probably has some cool metalhead girlfriend I don't know about.” You take a bite of your vanilla ice cream. It's so fitting for this conversation, vanilla ice cream for a vanilla person.

“God it's been years and I still can’t wrap my head around your stupid self doubt.” Robin says, shaking her head. “Eddie doesn't have a girlfriend. When you left he moped around his trailer for weeks. No one could get him to come out, not even Dustin. One time I went over to his place to check on him and he was sloshed out of his mind. He told me, "The songs he sings don't mean a thing if you’re not there to hear it.”

“He didn't say that.” You scoff.

“Oh but he did, and he keeps a photo of you in his wallet.” Robin says teasingly.

“You know about that too?!” It's becoming apparent that everyone knows this except you.

“Of course I do. It's me, I know everything.” Robin says with a cocky tone.

You and Robin decide to float around the mall a little longer. A small department store was calling your name. The story had low lighting and they were playing some classic rock on the radio. Robin's goal was a pair of shoes, your goal however, was a hot outfit for tonight's party at the hideout. It honestly didn't take you long to find the cutest black skirt with chain embellishments, you picked out some new stockings too. —-------------- After the girls left Eddie felt like he could finally breathe. He finishes his coffee and breakfast, then falls backwards onto his bed. He stares at his ceiling as he finds himself lost in the intricate dance of thoughts that revolve around you. Images of you smiling genuine and heartwarming, flashed like snapshots in his imagination. Casual conversations, stolen glances, and the subtle chemistry that lingered in the air when you were near. The anticipation of his next encounter with you and the sweet nervousness that comes with it. The soft glow of the afternoon sun is casting a warm hue across his room. Steve and Dustin went grocery shopping, the apartment was silent. Eddie pulls himself out of his thoughts and shakes them off. He grabs a pre-rolled joint and lights it, Eddie is nervous and he knows it. All these years and he still can't tell you the truth. His life has changed so drastically for the better ever since he signed that record deal. But there was always something missing, something he was holding out for. Of course many girls are interested in him, but he's not interested in many girls. He promised himself after you left that next time he sees you, he is gonna tell you. If he misses this opportunity, he might lose you entirely. He almost completely gave up on you after a year of no contact. But every time he opened his wallet, he saw a glimpse of your face, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of you or the photo. Eddie puffs on his joint, each inhale making him a little less anxious. He tries to think about something else. It will be nice to hang out at the hideout again. That was where he played his very first gigs when the band was just starting out. They barely had any attendees and the band definitely sounded rough. Then Eddie recalls you being there for every single show. Your smiling face in the crowd, cheering him on after every song.  “Uhgg, get it together, man.” He says under his breath. He finishes his joint and decides to get dressed. —--------------- When you returned with Robin, Steve was putting away the last of the groceries. “We’re back!” Robin announces. Dustin is reading on the couch, when you look down the hall, Eddie’s bedroom door is open. “Welcome back, we will head to the bar when I finish this. I also need to get dressed. Eddie is out, said something about dropping off some equipment with Gareth. He’s gonna meet us there.” Steve says. Honestly, you were a little bummed. You were hoping he’d be around when you got back. But you shrug it off and take your stuff to his room. Robin follows you and shuts the door behind her. You both change into something a bit more stylish. You had a cropped Def Leppard shirt that you paired with the new skirt. This outfit would go well with boots and stockings. Robin didn't change anything really, just her shirt and shoes. You put on a couple of layered chain necklaces, a few rings, and a pair of small silver hoop earrings. “I am astonished really.” Robin says with a smile as she looks you up and down. You tilt your head in response and she laughs. “Eddie is gonna have a full on heart attack when he sees you.” Your face feels a little hot and you laugh nervously. “Do you think so?” “Oh yeah. No doubt.” She smirks. “Someones lookin’ to get lucky.” “Shut up!” You place your hand over her mouth. She does the unthinkable licks the palm of your hand. You give her this horrified face followed by both of you hysterically laughing like a couple of hyenas.  ---------------

The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says. --------------------

The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She asks and hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Nancy says between sobs. Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” You reply.Hours slipped away unnoticed as the night unfolded, a mosaic of laughter, camaraderie, and the shared appreciation of the moment. Eddie could help but sneak glances at you, it was hard not to. He’s been trying to keep his cool all night, he had several shots of whiskey to build up some liquid courage. The world outside the café window dimmed as everyone delved into stories and life updates.

Eddie hands you his pack of cigarettes, silently asking if you’d like to go outside with him. You take one and place it between your lips. You and Eddie excuse yourselves from the group and head outside, the cold air sent a shiver up your spine.

“Brr! I forgot how cold it is when the sun goes down. I should have brought a coat.” You offhandedly say as Eddie lights your cigarette for you. Eddie removes his leather jacket, leaving him with a thick black hoodie. He drapes it around your shoulders and you are immediately much more comfortable. Your face gets a little red, he’s always been such a gentleman. You both lean up against Eddie's van. His thoughts are a symphony of emotions, dancing between hope and uncertainty. The evening was filled with a serene ambiance, and even in the quiet moments, you still felt comfort in his presence. “Y/N…” Eddie finally pipes up. “Yeah?” “I think we should talk. Y’know…about where we stand with each other.” Eddie admits. Your eyes widen, this is finally happening. The anxiety sets in and you try to swallow your nerves. Eddie stands in front of you, looking at his feet. “Do you remember, right before you left, that time we got high in my van next to lovers lake?” “Yeah. I do.” You answer quietly. “Do you remember me telling you that no one could ever replace you in my life?” He asks and you nod. You remember it like it was yesterday. It was a sunny day, the light glistening along the top of the water. You and Eddie passed a joint back and forth. You gave him a small wallet sized photo from picture day. “I still have that photo, I keep it in my wallet. You told me to keep it as a reminder, so I don't forget you. The thing is, meeting you was like finding my favorite song in a world full of noise, and I can't stop hitting replay no matter how many times I hear it.” Eddie takes a deep breath. It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. You were stunned, absolutely speechless. In that moment, the unspoken became words, there was no going back now. Eddie moves a few inches closer, pinning you between himself and van. Under the glow from a nearby streetlamp, the air was charged with tension. You met his gaze with a gentle smile. Without another word, Eddie cupped your face in his hands. Time seemed to slow down as Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. You kiss him back, It spoke volumes with no words at all. Eddie presses his body against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer. You can't stop shaking, your nerves combined with the cold air made it impossible to be completely still. Eddie finally breaks away from you and opens the back doors to his van. “Hop in, you’re freezing to death.” Eddie says, you take his hand as he helps you into the van then he climbs in after you and shuts the door. You take a seat on an upside down milk crate while Eddie starts the car and cranks the heat. You still can't believe what just happened, you’ve only ever dreamed of this moment. Eddie grabs his acoustic guitar and sits on top of a large amp. He took a deep breath, fingers gently caressing the strings of the guitar, and he started to strum. “I feel so stupid for leaving you alone out here.” You say while looking down at your hands. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. I just assumed you moved on and didn’t need any reminders.” “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I forgive you.” He chuckles. “Besides, they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” You recognize the tune he's playing, you’ve heard it before. “What song is this?” You ask, it's so familiar. “Photograph by Def Leppard.” He answers with a half smile and you smile back at him, your eyes widen as you recall the lyrics. He played this song for you before, but you ant remember how long ago. 

“Y’know, I still haven't figured out how to sit across from you and not be madly in love with everything you do.” You reply, hearing him play was actually really calming, you’ve missed this side of him. The guitar became an extension of his feelings, his voice carrying a sweetness to it, like warm honey. ♫“I see your face every time I dream

On every page, every magazine

So wild and free,

So far from me

You're all I want, my fantasy

Oh, look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown

Oh-oh, look what you've done

Photograph~

I don't want your photograph

I don't need your photograph

All I've got is a photograph

But it's not enough”♫ As the last chord resonated. Eddie sets the guitar against the wall of the van. You spring into his arms, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You bury your face in his shoulder, you didn't expect to get so emotional. You’re so happy but you still feel so guilty, you question why anyone would leave this feeling behind.

Eddie pulls you into his lap. “Are you crying?! Oh shit, no don’t cry…”Eddie squeezes you a little tighter. “Shhh…it's okay, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, “I love you, Eddie.” The words spilled out.  “I love you too. I’ve always loved you.” Eddie says, when you look back at him he smiles and brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Do you want to go back to mine?” He asks, it's like he read your mind. You nod in response and Eddie chuckles. “Let's get out of here.”

[dd-is-my-guiltypleasure]

A LIFE IN THE DAY

David Duchovny: ‘Love can happen at any age, right?

The actor, 63, on The X Files, songwriting and snacking

EKATERINA GERBY

Interview by Helen Cullen

Wednesday January 17 2024, 12.01am GMT, The Sunday Time

Duchovny was born in New York City. He studied English at Princeton University and Yale, before breaking into acting in the late 1980s, starting in TV adverts and working his way up. In 1993 he began playing the role of the FBI agent Fox Mulder in The X Files, which ran for nine years. He later played Hank Moody in Californication. He has also released three folk-rock albums and published five novels — last year he directed a film adaptation of one of these, Bucky F***ing Dent. Duchovny has two grown-up children from his former marriage to the actress Téa Leoni. He lives in California, with his girlfriend, Monique Pendleberry, and his two dogs, Brick and Rookie.

I like to get up at dawn because those are my best thinking and writing hours. I love the sunrise but it also means I can get some work done before the sun gets too much. That’s the best time of day for me. I have a coffee that makes me think I’m brilliant for ten minutes and that’s all I need to get going.

Food to me is just fuel and I don’t have very advanced taste buds. I think everything kind of tastes OK, which people react to with suspicion. For breakfast I like oatmeal — what my Scottish mother called porridge.

If I’m filming I still like an early start, but I shot my recent film What Happens Later, with Meg Ryan, all through the night because we filmed in a regional airport after it closed at 9pm. That’s a bit of a nightmare for me as a morning person, but we developed a great camaraderie from working while the world was asleep. My daughter, West, thought it was great to see a romantic comedy film with people my age, but I don’t think of myself as any age, so I hadn’t thought about that. Love can happen at any age, right?

Everybody wants me to have a hobby, but I’m blessed because I love my work. I’ve been able to branch out into music, writing and directing. With songwriting I can pick up the guitar at any time. If you wait for inspiration to hit, you’ll be sitting on your ass for ever.

I knock off for lunch about 12pm. That’s when I have the one big meal of the day that would be recognisable to other humans as a proper meal — vegetables and a protein such as fish. The rest of the time I snack.

In the afternoon I work out. I love the games I played when I was younger — boxing, tennis and basketball — but as I get older I tend to get hurt doing those, so I’ve found Pilates is best for me. It’s still super hard but the least dangerous.

I live in Malibu and the height of my fame has passed, so it’s not difficult for me to move around any more. It’s a different era now because everybody has a phone, so paparazzi are more a thing of the past. I tend to go to the same places where people are bored of seeing me.

There are always different reasons why fans might stop me — it could be still because of The X Files or Californication. I am very proud of The X Files. I can’t think of another show like it in terms of cultural impact and longevity. I just thought we were making good, goofy TV but Chris Carter, the creator and director, saw what was coming in terms of the culture of conspiracy theories. Gillian Anderson [his co-star] and I went from being unknown to globally recognised in a couple of years. We don’t get to see each other that much as she lives in London, but there’s no one else I can share that with.

West is an actor now too. It wasn’t something that I would have charted out for her because I know how difficult it is, even more so for a woman, but I want her to do something she’s passionate about. There are still dark corners in Hollywood but the pitfalls and dangers are much more upfront.

I do enjoy a party, but I’d rather spend time with friends in the evening. Because I like to get up so early, I go to bed early also. I feel electric light has really f***ed with our sense of mind and body, and that we were made to hide in the cave at night from predators and wake up with the sun, so I try to do that. Constitutionally, I feel like that works for me.

Words of wisdom

Best advice I was given

It doesn’t matter if people laugh; it matters if it feels funny to you

Advice I’d give

There’s no such thing as good advice — you have to come to it on your own

What I wish I’d known

Take a moment to appreciate what you’ve done before worrying about the next thing

What Happens Later is in cinemas now and available to stream in spring. The Reservoir by David Duchovny is out now (Akashic Books £19.95)

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