#back to my old 90s sitcoms I go

[flofaiiry]

sue me ; samira mohan x reader

❝ and being a saint is exhausting. sue me i wanna be wanted ❞

warnings: fem!reader, kissing, oral f!receiving, fingering, lots of praise (use of good girl, pretty girl, baby etc etc), maybe a teeny bit of dom!reader & sub!samira vibes but not a ton, overstimulation, it's implied that reader has had a crush on samira for a while, both reader&samira are a little tipsy but everything is consensual, reader has a tuggable amount of hair but no other descriptors, i wrote this in less than an hour so probably spelling/grammar mistakes

wc: 1.1k ~ short 'n sweet!!

note: thank u to @ovaryacted for planting this specific worm in my brain ... i now cannot stop thinking abt ms mohan !!! go read her amazing fic here!!! i also have never written girl on girl before so as always if it's bad pls look away & feedback is appreciated !!! gif cred !! // divider cred !!

you're sitting on the couch in samira's apartment, both of you a little more wine drunk than you'd like to admit. the tv's on, volume low and playing a rerun of a 90s sitcom. you were watching it at one point, but you're too wrapped up in the sound of samira's voice to notice it anymore.

"and it's just like- why go through the trouble? you know? i don't want to have to build something from the ground up, all the awkward small talk on the first date- i don't have time for that! i am 29 years old, i don't want to have to make someone want me- i just want someone to want me, without being told... you know? agh, sorry i'm ranting, tell me about your day."

you shake your head and set your glass down on the end table. "no, no, i know what you mean, sammi. and you'll find it, you'll find someone who wants you without being prompted." she scoffs, "where?" you stare into her dark brown eyes and she stares back into yours, like they contain all the answers she's looking for.

she feel her cheeks heat up. just the wine, right?

"maybe... don't look so hard," you shrug, voice lowered to a whisper now. she furrows her brow, confused. "i mean, maybe what you want... that person- maybe they're, like, i dunno. right in front of you and you don't know it."

samira's breath catches when you finish speaking, the realization clicking almost instantly in her head. "oh." she whispers.

you press your lips into a line. "yeah."

your lips are on hers before any flickers of doubt can cross your mind. she kisses you back, both of your lips moving in perfect tandem. you start to press against her, signaling her to lie back on the couch. she gets the hint, leaning back until her back is against the cushion and you're fully on top of her. you travel your lips from her jaw down her neck, sucking little tiny bruises into her skin. the breathiest of moans slips from her at the sensation.

both of your tops are off in a second, your hands grasp eagerly at her breasts through the thin material of her bra. you don't waste any more time on her chest though, before kissing down her stomach.

you toy with the clasp of her jeans while you kiss around her belly button, undoing the button and zipper with ease. you look up at her before you pull her pants off.

"can i-"

"please," she breathes.

you smile before taking her jeans off in one motion, her panties next. they're pretty, and soaked already, but at the end of the day they're just another obstacle. you bring a single finger up her slit, collecting the wetness from her entrance and dragging it up to her clit, swirling it around the sensitive bud. she gasps at the contact, a barely audible 'oh my god,' leaving her as an exhale.

"so fucking wet hm? all for me?" she nods quickly, taking her bottom lip between her teeth and rolling it back and forth. you take in her appearance one more time, before disappearing your head between her legs, tongue starting to lave over her soaking pussy.

"ohmyfuckinggod," the worlds tumble past samira's lips as a single syllable. you realize as soon as she says it that you don't think you've ever heard her swear before. in fact- you can recall her telling you that she tries not to swear unless absolutely necessary.

you smirk against her cunt at the realization. that you're making her feel so good that cursing has become a necessity.

you press your face further forward between her legs, tongue driving into her and nose nudging against her clit. her back arches off the couch, but you're quick to plant her back down with two firm hands on her hips. "stay still f'me, baby," you mumble against her core. one of her hands flies to your hair, she laces her fingers through the strands. she's not tugging- not yet- just holding there.

you take your tongue out from inside her and lick a harsh stripe up her slit, pressing down when you reach her clit before wrapping your lips around it. samira moans, her eyes cinch shut when you start to suck on her clit. "oh," she whines, "yes- just like that, oh my god."

"you like that, pretty girl? hm?"

she nods furiously. you smile and bring two fingers to her dripping hole. you ease them inside her as deep as you can. she tugs on your hair now, the pleasure finally building up enough to warrant the response. you hum against her pussy, sending vibrations through her that make her whimper. the sound is music to your ears.

"i think i'm- ohmygod, think i'm gonna-" the words get stuck in her throat amidst the whines slipping past her lips. you grin against her and curl your fingers to knock against her g-spot, she moans loud at that new sensation.

"holy fuck- keep doing that, please, feels so good."

you don't stop, if anything you speed up. your fingers inside her, lips around her clit- all of it. "gonna cum for me? hm? gonna let me taste you?" you ask, but if the way she's clenching around your fingers is any indication, then you already know the answer's yes.

"yesyesyes, so close- so-" she cuts herself off with another moan as her orgasm washes over her. her eyes clamp shut, head rolls back, and mouth falls open. you don't stop, not for a second, sucking at her cunt to coax her through the high.

"fuck!" samira practically cries out when she finds the capacity for words again. you smile, "good fucking girl," you mumble, matching her newfound affinity for swearing. she starts to tug at your hair again, like she's trying to pull you off her.

like she thought one was all she got.

"too much- 's too much," she whines. you shake your head, nose bumping against her clit when you do. "tell me to stop and i will," you say looking up at her, lips and chin glossy with her release. while your mouth isn't on her anymore, your fingers are still pumping in and out of her. "but i think you can take one more," there's a devilish glint in the way you look at her.

she sighs, then nods, "okay, yeah, one more."

you smirk before diving your head back between her legs, lips wrapping back around her clit and sucking like they never left. the way she moans, the way she writhes against you to create more friction for herself- you're addicted.

there's definitely going to be more than just one more orgasm.

[storiesforallfandoms]

just for us ~ johnny depp

word count: 1790

request?: yes!

“Hii can you please write a Johnny Depp imagine where its the 90s, you are both famous, and the press keeps beging you  expose your relationship?”

description: being famous at such a young age makes it hard to keep anything a secret, but you’re determined to make sure your relationship is just for the two of you and not for the media

pairing: young!johnny depp x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

I started acting when I was five years old. It was a commercial, and I had all of 30 seconds of screen time. But that 30 seconds was enough to impress the director apparently, because two years later when he was hired to direct some new sitcom, he called my parents looking to cast me as one of the main kids. The show only lasted one season, but one season was all it took to kickstart my career.

Becoming an actor at such a young age meant losing a “normal” life. I never went to normal school, normal prom or graduation. I never really had normal friends, just co-stars and other child actors. And I never had any privacy. Once I became a household name, privacy went completely out the window as I was followed by paparazzi and fans daily. Not to mention the creeps who came out in droves when I turned 18.

Nothing in my life was private. Nothing except Johnny.

We met on set of a movie we were working on together, and I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that I was going to fall for him. I tried not to. Dating as a celebrity was basically impossible, even more so when it was with another celebrity. But i couldn’t stop myself, and when he told me he had fallen for me too, I was a goner.

Being a fellow actor, Johnny knew exactly how to keep our relationship a secret. He knew which restaurants had the most hidden away seating, which ones had the most private parking so we could actually show up and leave together. He knew how to sneak in and out of my place without paparazzi noticing, and how to do the same with me at his place.

It worked for a long time. Like, two years at least. No one had any idea we were together. Until a fan spotted us out together. They didn’t see us acting like a couple, but apparently us hanging out together years after our movie had come out was suspicious enough to get the rumor mill going. Suddenly, every interview we did had us asked at least once about our relationship. But we never broke. We kept insisting we were just friends, and we kept our relationship a secret.

It was early in the morning when my alarm clock started to blare. I groaned as I rolled over to turn it off. The bright red numbers read “7:00am”. I groaned again, sleep fighting to take me again.

I smiled as Johnny wrapped me in his warm embrace and kissed my neck. “Why are we awake so early?”

“I have a morning interview at 9,” I told him. “I gotta get up and get ready.”

He squeezed me a little tighter. “Absolutely not.”

“I have no choice, J. I can’t cancel so close to the interview.”

“Just don’t show up. Problem solved.”

I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were still drooping with fatigue, but he was trying his best to focus on me. I smiled at him and kissed his nose.

“You can stay here and sleep,” I told him. “I’ll be back by the time you wake up.”

“You better be,” he sleepily muttered.

I chuckled and finally wiggled free from his grasp.

Getting ready for interviews never took long. I didn’t have to do my makeup because the studio makeup artist would do it for me when I got there, and an outfit was chosen for me by my stylist prior to the day. All I had to do was get breakfast, clean myself up, and get dressed in my pre-chosen outfit. I was brushing my teeth when I heard a car horn honking outside, signaling that my ride to the interview had arrived.

I took one last peak into my bedroom. Johnny was sound asleep again. I smiled and quietly moved to my bed. I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before rushing out the door as the car honked again.

I was rushed through the makeup and placed in an uncomfortable chair within 20 minutes. I tried not to shift too much in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Morning talk shows always had the worst chairs for some reason.

The host walked onto set and greeted me cheerily. I smiled back at her, wishing I had her chipper energy for so early in the morning.

I wonder how many cups of coffee she’s had.

She sat down across from me and we were given the five minute warning. I adjusted myself in my seat one last time, then smiled as the cameraman announced we were live.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to our special guest, (Y/N),” the host said, gesturing to me. The crowd cheered as I smiled and waved to them. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for having me. I’m so excited to be here!”

The host asked me about my new movie, and I went over the talking points I had been given for every interview. It was going as smoothly as most interviews did, until the host said, “I have to ask, is there anyone special in your life?”

I kept the smile on my face, but I was sure it looked much more strained now. “Nope. I’m absolutely single pringle.”

“Really? There’s not even anything going on with you and Johnny Depp?”

I glanced over at my manager, who looked about ready to shut the whole interview down. Most celebrities have a few off limits questions that interviewers are told they can’t ask about. It’s usually super personal and private stuff that they want to keep private. For me, the one topic that was off limits was Johnny. It wasn’t just because we wanted to keep our relationship a secret, but it was also because my management and I didn’t want all my interviews to suddenly be just about Johnny and not about my work.

It was clear from the look on my manager’s face that this host was told my limitations, and she was choosing to ignore them. This was her attempt at getting a huge scoop before anyone else so that she could boost the ratings of her show.

I knew I couldn’t just stop the interview. It was a live show, stopping would just cause a scene that I knew would do more harm than good. So, I took a very subtle deep breath and said, “Johnny has been my friend since we worked together years ago. There’s nothing more between us besides friendship.”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re aware of the rumors about you two. Everyone is dying for you to finally confirm that you’re together.”

“Well, everyone will just have to keep waiting because I am not confirming what’s not true. Also, I think it’s incredibly disrespectful and invasive to keep pushing this topic when Johnny and I have both said we aren’t dating and like to have our privacy. I don’t get many things that are just for me, but I want my relationship to be one of those things.”

My manager whispered something to the cameraman, who then signaled for the show to go to commercial. Once the cameras were off, my manager demanded for me to be un-miced so we could leave. I ignored the host’s apologies as the crew took off my mic and my manager beckoned for me to come with her.

As we left the studio, she nudged my shoulder and said, “You handled that amazingly, kid.”

I had no other obligations for the day, so my driver took me back home. I was happy to be back in the comfort of my own home after that interview.

The smell of food greeted me at the door. I smiled at myself as I made my way to the kitchen. As I expected, Johnny was stood at the stove, cooking up some breakfast. He was still in his pajama pants with no shirt on. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He leaned into my touch, allowing me to place a kiss on his bare shoulder.

“You’re back early,” he said.

“The interview was cut short,” I responded.

“So I heard.” I looked up at him in confusion. “I woke up just in time to turn on the interview.”

I groaned. “So you saw the whole thing?” He nodded. I buried my head in his shoulder. “We told her not to ask, I swear.”

He moved in my arms, turning so he could face me. He wrapped his arms around me, too, as I moved mine around his neck instead.

“I think you handled that whole situation very well,” he said. “It was pretty clear you were caught off guard by the question, but you still handled it maturely and with more respect than I think she deserved.”

“I wasn’t going to cause a scene over it, even though I really wanted to just walk out if she had asked.”

“Would’ve made for better television if you had just stormed out.”

“You’re right. It’s probably best that I didn’t then.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss me. Any tension I had left from that day immediately melted the moment his lips touched mine.

“We’ll have to tell people eventually,” I said with a sigh, resting my head against his. “We can’t keep this a secret forever.”

“We’ve done so for two years.”

“Yeah, but we’ve already gotten caught once. There’s just no proof of us actually being together for the tabloids to run with. But if we slipped up once, it can happen again. Then we’ll have to tell people about us.” I sighed and added, mainly to myself, “We’ll ever get a moment of peace again.”

“It’ll happen eventually, but until then I’m happy to have our private moments,” Johnny said. He kissed the top of my head and added, “But the day I get to loudly say you’re mine will be a good day for me. I want everyone to know eventually that I have the most amazing woman as my girlfriend.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Good.”

He kissed me again, but pulled away quicker than I wanted. I tried to pull him back in, but he just shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want the food to burn. The last thing we need is everyone finding out we’re dating because I burned your house down.”

I chuckled. “Okay, you have a point.”

“Are you hungry? I made enough for the two of us.”

I nuzzled close to him as he turned back to the stove. “I’ll never say no to your cooking.”

[whimsyfinny]

He's a Winchester

Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,

Chapter Word Count: 3471

MDNI 18+

A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 

Photos from Pinterest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.

“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 

“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.

“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”

“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.

“Bitch.”

I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.

“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”

Her smile softened.

“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”

I took a long gulp of my wine. 

“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”

We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.

“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”

She shook her head.

“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.

“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”

There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 

I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.

It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.

I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.

“You have good taste in cars.”

I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.

“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.

“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.

“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”

After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 

“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.

“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 

“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.

“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.

“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.

A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.

“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.

“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”

“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.

“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 

He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.

“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”

I laughed, the sound light off my chest.

“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 

The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.

Do you think he's already guessed it?

The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.

“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”

“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.

“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 

Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.

“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”

With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.

“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 

I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.

“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 

“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 

Great, the gossip starts now.

I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.

Do it now.

“Dean, I have a son.”

I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.

“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”

I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.

“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”

I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.

“What?” His voice was breathy.

I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 

“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”

I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.

“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”

He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.

I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”

“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.

“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”

I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 

Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.

“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[amtrak12]

Okay, so @lady-swanbell and I were going off on some tangents in the tags of this lovely Niles/Daphne gifset. And I really need to expand on them, so I'm pulling it out to be its own post.

From @lady-swanbell's tags:

#the first time i watched the show i thought she at least respects maris because she's his wife and she respects niles #but no #she absolutely loathes her

YES! Exactly! Okay, because the show does not differentiate Daphne’s feelings towards Maris from Frasier’s or Martin’s. They all hate her. Great! Why? Well, usually it’s because they find her and her quirks super annoying. Sometimes, you get a little pushback over how Maris treats Niles (not enough imo), but mostly they find her super annoying just like how everyone feels towards Lilith, just like how everyone felt towards Mel. So, it’s so easy to just take that at face value and not realize that Daphne, specifically, truly, hates Maris’s guts.

But when the Fandom Mindset sets in — not the new mainstream fandom who wants to passively consume and trash anything that isn’t 100% Pure by whatever bullshit metrics they’re measuring by; no, no I’m talking about the Old School ways of delving far, far too deeply into a 90s sitcom character’s psyche and returning with gold the writers never intended to leave there — anyway, when that kicks in and you start digging into Daphne’s perspective and fleshing out her character, the first two revelations you’ll probably have are:

A) Daphne’s had feelings for Niles nearly as long as he had feelings for her and always treated him just a bit differently from the other two Cranes

B) She must loathe Maris

It’d be really easy to tie her hatred of Maris to her feelings for Niles, and I mean, I guess you’d be mostly right? But it is much more nuanced and deeper than that, especially because for the entirety of Niles and Maris’s marriage, Daphne isn’t consciously aware of her feelings for Niles. She doesn’t hate Maris because she wants Niles for herself. Maris isn’t ‘in her way’. There's no personal offense in this matter. No, Daphne is offended on Niles’s behalf. She hates Maris because of the way Maris treats him. She especially hates Maris because Niles won’t, and that feeling started long ago. The annoyance hardened into hatred pretty damn early.

And because Daphne was aware she hated Maris — she kept these feelings to herself, but she was damn aware of them — I’d argue this is the earliest and closest she gets to realizing she’s falling for Niles. The hatred is protective. She wants Niles to be happy, and Niles wants to be happy with Maris. So Daphne wants that for him too, but Maris constantly puts him through hell. It irritates Daphne so much, she’ll even think to herself, “I’d never treat him like that.” Which !!! is so close and yet so far away from figuring out she’s developing feelings for Niles, because she isn’t actually picturing herself in a relationship with Niles when she thinks that. She doesn’t imagine what she would do better or different. She’s only focused on what Maris is doing wrong.

Well… most of the time she doesn’t think about what she’d do better if she were dating/married to Niles. But there is one very important night where she does....

The Snow Ball

You think she threw herself so hard into being Niles’s date that night because of her lurking feelings for him? NO. That was REVENGE…. Which is actually what Niles was hoping to get out of that evening too, so there’s the convenient permission in Daphne’s mind to go all out and boy does she ever!! I’d argue that the primary motivation for every single thing Daphne does that night is to prove exactly how much Maris has fucked up.

I’m actually writing a S8 piece next that retroactively looks back on the Snow Ball, and this test line comes straight from my outline for it:

[Daphne] was so insanely jealous back then. And not the scared and insecure jealousy that she felt over Mel. No, this jealousy was bright and furious because Maris had Niles’s adoration and devotion. She had him and she constantly threw him away.

‘She had him and she constantly threw him away’ is definitely going to be a keeper line in this fic, because that is the entire crux of Daphne’s hatred. She sees Niles loving his wife, she sees him bending over backwards trying to please her, and she sees Maris just… not care. Maris doesn’t want to fully give him up, but she won’t love him back either. And that’s why Daphne loathes her with the fire of a thousand suns.

And then because I get indulgent when I’m sleepy, I’ll close this out with another test line for my fic:

Daphne had always wanted him to be happy, but it took her years to realize she wanted to be the one making him happy.

D’aww :’) Daphne loves Niles… but hating Maris came first 😡

[wilson-is-a-slut]

I need to talk about son of a coma guy for a second because I don't think that some people realize that the aforementioned coma guy also did some old man yaoi type shit back in the 80s

this is the coma guy:

and this is john larroquette, aka dan fielding from the '84-'92 sitcom night court:

dan is a district attorney in manhatten, new york. he is very much the character who is obsessed with his looks, who he's seen with, how much he's worth and women; and when I say women, I mean the stereotypical big boobs, blond and ditzy.

one look at his character and he come off as a misogynist, who only sees women as objects, and while that is true for that type, it is not true for all of them. dan has a great deal of respect for the women of the court room he works with. selma, flo and roz, the three female bailiffs throughout the series, respect (and scare) dan, even though he is a pig (there's also billie and christine but that's a whole other can of worms not fit for a house blog) selma and flow are both older women who die during the shows run and roz is not his type, but even if all three of them were his type, I don't think that anything would have happened because of their respect.

and this being the late 80s early 90s, there are of course jokes about him being perceived as gay, even going so far as to being stuck in an elevator with a gay man for an entire episode (now a little side tangent about that episode, I don't necessarily think that dan is homophobic, but more so offended that someone thought he was, I just had to put that out there) of course he takes offence, he goes out of his way to sleep with women left and right, even going as far as to get out of work early to do so (a lot like house in that aspect, but we'll get to that later)

now I don't know exactly what shipping culture looked like back then (if anyone can tell me though that would be really cool) but I think it's safe to assume that nobody was hardcore shipping dan with harry t. stone, the presiding judge of the courtroom where dan worked.

now on to dan and harry,

I mean, just look at the two of them. I love dan and harry very much. dan cares a great deal for harry, even though he would never admit that. in fact, the very first episode, dan tries to get harry removed from the bench. dan and harry are very liked minded when it comes to the court; I think that's why dan "tolerates" harry as much as he does. and while harry wished dan spent his personal time on thing other than women and dan could care less about harry's hobbies, they both care and respect each other.

ok ok , now on to the comparison of dan and house.

they both have a past they wish they could have buried:

dan - his parents being country folk, dan in fact being his middle name and being from louisiana altogether

house - his dad, stacy, and in part his leg (there's definitely more to this list but you get the drift)

and one last character comparison I wanna make is that they both pay for women; that's said outright, but I honestly think that in terms of who would keep paying for longer before asking themself "what the fuck am I doing?" is dan. now, that might come as a shocker to someone whose never seen night court, but house is more self loathing than dan and I think he would realize first that what he is doing stopped being fun 100 dollars ago and oh, my leg is starting to hurt again. dan would go for broke, metaphorically and physically, until he was broke and until the two (or three or four) of them broke the bed. all dan cares about is sex and all house cares about is forgetting, they just happen to show off in the same way.

I will leave you all with me projecting that dan and harry are house and wilson respectively because I am in fact that far gone

your honor, it's the same picture

should I do harry and wilson next??

[girl4music]

At its core, Xena is an action/fantasy so it is neither a drama or a comedy. That’s why it can do both so well.

Because it’s not restricted to being one or the other:

Its core is an action show in a fantasy environment so it can do both drama and comedy with no restrictions.

A lot of TV shows were just like Xena was in the 90’s.

Buffy was like this. Charmed was like this. X Files… Sliders… Even Star Trek. Like… it’s not uncommon.

It’s just not what TV art/entertainment is now sadly.

The major cult classics are mostly genre TV shows for a reason. People preferred the versatility back then. The experimentation. The campiness. The focus on the characters over the plot. The well-written themes. And the lessons and morals embedded in the scenes.

It was just… a different time and place for TV media back in the 90’s/early 2000’s and not everyone prefers it like this. Clearly, I do, but it’s not everyone’s thing. Some people prefer the keeping to one tone or one genre and the characters wrapping around that. That’s not me. It’s never been me and what I watch.

I’ve always been into supernatural/fantasy/action shows most of all because they’re really the only ones where they’re willing to be versatile enough in do both drama and comedy in one sitting of an episode. I call it “half an half”. I haven’t seen like reality shows, soap operas or sitcoms do this so I’ve never been into them.

Xena’s always been my “go to” example for a show thsts so versatile that it’s all over the map. Literally. Like…. Xena’s map is so historically inaccurate that it’s practically drawn by a 2 year old. That’s being nice. 😂

But that’s the fun and charm of it really. Nobody wants an historically accurate or a more “realistic” Xena. Everybody wants props like multi-coloured strobe lights and wired bras in an Ancient Greek mythology setting with absolutely no explanation for it at all because it’s a lot of fun and everybody wants fun.

As I said. You either get it or you don’t.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

an: thank you guys for reading <33 this is so fun and I love getting notifications from here. enjoy;)

wc: 2.4k

content warning: MDNI 18+, fucking on the couch *chefs kiss*

masterlist⭐️ 12

twelve

The empty takeout containers were scattered across the coffee table, the lingering scent filling Joel's living room. I sat curled up on the couch, swallowed by one of his shirts. The soft, worn fabric smelled like him and a hint of his cologne. Joel lounged beside me, his broad frame sinking into the cushions, an old gray t-shirt stretched across his chest. The TV hummed in the background, some cheesy rerun of a '90s sitcom playing low, the canned laughter a strange but comforting backdrop to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

I tucked my legs under me, stealing a glance at Joel as he leaned back, one arm slung over the couch, his fingers grazing my shoulder. He looked relaxed, more at ease than I'd ever seen him. Seeing him at work, stressed, hunched over his piles of papers or carrying around heavy materials. That edge and craziness softened by the warm glow of the lamp and the comfort of the meal we'd just shared.

My stomach was full, my body still buzzing from earlier. Sitting here with him in his home felt so domestic. Like we were just another couple sharing a lazy Friday night, the world outside fading away. But we're not a couple. I don't even know what this is.

Joel caught my stare, his lips twitching into that half-smirk I couldn't get enough of. "What's that look for?"

I blushed, grabbing my water glass to cover it. "Nothing," I mumbled, taking a sip. "Just—this is nice. Food was good."

He hummed, his eyes lingering like he knew there was more to it. "Yeah." He hesitated for a beat. "Better with you here." I glanced at the TV, not sure how to respond even though I felt the same way.

Joel shifted and let out a breath, his arm brushing mine as he leaned forward to grab his glass. "Tommy would be all over this show." he said, nodding toward the TV, his tone light but tinged with nostalgia. "Used to watch crap like this with him when we were younger. He'd quote every damn line, thinkin' he was hilarious."

I turned to him, surprised by the mention of his brother. "Tommy?" I said, setting my glass down, curiosity sparking. "You guys liked this stuff?"

Joel's expression softened and he leaned back, hands clasping together over his knees. "Yeah, back when we were kids. Tommy was always the loud one, actin' out scenes, makin' me laugh. I just watched to keep him outta trouble." He paused, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes far off. "He's still like that. Always got some big idea."

His voice was warm, but there was a weight to it, like he was sharing something he didn't often put into words. I stayed quiet, soaking in every syllable.

“He’s always been the dreamer," he went on, his thumb rubbing absently over his knuckles. "It was just us and Sarah. I was the one holdin' it together. Bills, work, makin' sure Sarah had what she needed. He'd come up with these wild plans, like movin' us to California, startin' a band, whatever popped into his head." He chuckled, low and soft. "Drove me crazy, but it kept us going. Kept Sarah smiling."

My heart raced as my thoughts spiraled to Tommy and Sarah, a knot twisting in my gut at the thought of them discovering me and Joel. As Sarah's old friend, would she be as livid as my dad would be? The thought of her hurt, her trust in her dad, made my chest ache. And Tommy, I couldn't shake the image of him confronting Joel, his laughter turning to disapproval. I was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, the addictive nature of Joel's touch mixing with the terror of breaking the bonds he held with his family. The way he talked about her, about Tommy, carried so much love.

He paused, his jaw tightening, and I could feel the weight of those thoughts. "He's my brother, you know? All I got, him and Sarah. They're why I keep pushin', even when I'm tired."

I wanted to tell him how much it meant, hearing him talk like this, but the words caught in my throat. I was afraid they'd come out too much, so I just sat there. Letting his story settle over me like a warm blanket. He was so much more than I'd imagined.

"You're a really good dad and brother." I said softly, the only thing I could manage without spilling everything I felt.

Joel huffed. "Tryin' my best." He glanced at me, his eyes searching, and for a moment, I thought he might keep going. But he just shook his head, like he was brushing off the weight of it all.

The sitcom laugh track faded as a commercial started, and Joel's hand slid to my thigh, his touch warm. The air between us shifted. Joel's thumb traced slow circles on my thigh, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through me. His eyes locked on mine, darker now, but there was a hesitation in them, a softness that hadn't been there earlier.

He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against my lips. His hand slid up to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheek, and then he kissed me. It wasn't the desperate kiss from earlier. This was soft and deliberate. My breath caught, and I melted into him. My hands finding his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart under the worn fabric of his t-shirt.

I kissed him back, deeper, my fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel him. His hands slid to my waist, guiding me onto his lap. The oversized shirt bunching around my hips. The kiss stayed slow, exploratory, his lips moving against mine with a care that made my heart race. His fingers digging in just enough to hint at the hunger still simmering beneath the surface. I rocked against him, feeling him harden beneath me, and a soft moan escaped me, breaking the quiet.

"So pretty." he growled, but his hands were gentle as they slid under the shirt, tracing the curve of my spine. His touch sending shivers across my skin. He tugged the shirt up, slow and deliberate, and I lifted my arms, letting him pull it over my head. The cool air hit my skin, and I shivered, but his hands were there, warm and steady. His lips finding my neck, kissing a slow path down to my collarbone.

I arched into him, my hands roaming his chest, tugging at his t-shirt until he leaned back, letting me pull it off. His skin was warm and I traced the lines of his shoulders, my fingers greedy for every inch of him. He groaned softly as I rocked against him again, the friction sparking heat between us, and his hands slid to my core.

"Need you again" I whispered, my voice shaky, and he kissed me again, deeper this time. His tongue teasing mine as he lifted his hips, undoing his sweatpants just enough to free himself. I sank onto him, slow, the stretch making me gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Joel," I moaned, the fullness making me feel sore.

"Fuck, you gonna feel this good everytime?" he rasped, his hands guiding my hips, setting a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes stayed on mine, intense, like he was memorizing every moment, every sound I made. The couch creaked beneath us, the sitcom's chatter a faint buzz in the background, but all I could focus on was him and the way he filled me.

I moved with him, my hips rolling, savoring the slow build, the way each thrust sent sparks through me. His hands roamed, one cupping my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple, drawing a whimper from my lips. "You like that, huh?" he teased, his voice low, flirty, and I nodded, biting my lip.

"Talk to me." he said. His voice breathy but playful, and his grin was wicked. His grip tightening as he thrust up harder, making me gasp.

"Fuck—I like— everything you do Joel." I let out breathy and desperate.

The pace shifted, his movements growing rougher, more demanding. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me down to meet each thrust, the angle hitting that spot inside me that made my vision blur. I cried out, my nails raking down his chest, leaving faint red lines, and he moaned back.

"Fuck, look at you," he said, his voice thick with lust, his eyes raking over me. "You take me so good." His words sent a thrill through me, and I moved faster, chasing the heat coiling tight in my core. My hands move to grip the base of the couch behind him.

His hand slid between us, finding my clit, rubbing tight circles that made me tremble, the pleasure overwhelming. "Joel, I'm—" I gasped, my words breaking as the edge rushed closer, my body tensing.

"C'mon, let me feel you again." he urged, his voice rough, flirty, his hips snapping up to meet mine. His words pushed me over, my orgasm crashing through me. My body shuddering as I clenched around him, crying out his name. He groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. With a few more, he followed, his release hot and intense, his hands holding me close as he spilled inside me.

We stayed there, panting, my forehead pressed to his, our breaths mingling. His hands softened, sliding up my back, and he kissed me, slow and gentle, a contrast to the roughness of moments ago.

He grabbed a throw blanket off the arm of the couch, wrapping it around me , and helped me off his lap, his touch tender. "Let's clean up," he said, his voice low, warm.

In the bathroom, the steam curled around us as we stepped under the warm spray, his fingers grazing my waist innocently, as he pulled me close for a quick kiss. I laughed, swatting his chest when his hands wandered lower, he stepped back to let me rinse off.

After, I stood at the sink doing my extensive skincare routine getting ready for bed. Joel leaned against the doorframe, shaking his hair dry with the towel, smirking.

"The hell is all of that?" he asked, his voice low, teasing, as he nodded at the array of bottles and jars lined up on the counter.

"Skincare?" I shot back, glancing at him with a sarcastic raise of my brow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "What happened to face soap and lotion?"

"Right here." I lifted two bottles, shaking them lightly with a grin. "I'll let you try these. Feels nice."

Joel's smirk faded, replaced by a skeptical squint as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Nah, I'm good. Don't need all that fancy shit."

"Oh, come on," I said, my voice softening, a playful pout forming. "Please? Just a little." I tilted my head, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes, knowing they'd wear him down.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his resolve visibly cracking. "Fine."

I grinned, blushing that he cracked for me. "Sit—no, wait, stand here." I hopped up onto the counter, settling on the edge, my legs dangling as I gestured for him to come closer. Joel stepped between my legs, his hands hovering near my thighs. He eyed the bottles warily as I picked up my cleanser.

"Relax, it's not gonna burn your skin off." I teased, squirting a small amount of cleanser onto my fingers and warming it between my palms. I leaned in, my hands finding his face, smoothing the product over his cheeks and jaw with slow, careful strokes. His skin was warm, rough with faint stubble. He tensed at first, his eyes squinting to mine like he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Okay, now rinse that off", I nudged his shoulder to the direction of the sink. He leaned down to the sink and I watched the way his back muscles moved. He reached for the towel, grinning to himself "Can't believe I'm doing this shit."

He walked back in between my legs. I switched to a serum, dabbing it onto his forehead, cheeks, and chin, then began a light massage, my fingers gliding in gentle circles over his temples and along his jawline.

His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a low hum, his eyes half-closing. "What do you need all this shit for, anyway?" he asked, his voice soft

I smiled, my fingers still moving, pressing lightly into the tension around his eyes. "To stay pretty for you," I said, my tone flirty and slow.

Joel's hands found my waist, his touch light, fingers curling against the oversized shirt I slipped back on. "You're always pretty," he said, his eyes still closed. I smiled to myself, blushing from the compliment I can't believe I'm receiving from him.

I finished rubbing in the serum and grabbed my moisturizer. Rubbing it in with soft motions. His hands still on me. My fingers lingering for a moment before I pull back.

"All done." I said softly, then leaned in, pressing a quick, gentle peck to his lips. His hands tightened on my waist, holding me there for a beat longer, and I felt the heat of his smile against my mouth.

"See! It was relaxing. You liked it. I'll add the rest of the products next time." I said teasing.

He snorted, shaking his head, but the grin on his face gave him away. "Yeah, right. C'mon let's go to bed. Got plans for tomorrow," he said, his fingers stroking my hair.

I perked up, my stomach dropped with nerves. "What? Where?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "You'll see. Ain't tellin' you, so don't try."

"Not even a hint?" I pouted, but my smile gave me away.

"Nope. You'll like it."

He led me to his room, his hand brushing the small of my back. We climbed back into his bed, the messy sheets cool against my skin. Joel pulled me close, his arm heavy around my waist. His warmth enveloped me, his breath steady against the back of my neck.

"Thank you for today." I said whispering, nudging my face deeper into the pillow.

"Sleep," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, his lips brushing my shoulder. "Goodnight."

His breathing slowed, a soft rumble in his chest, and I knew he was asleep. I let my eyes drift shut, the thought of tomorrow's mystery plans lingering as I followed him into sleep. In his arms.

[butterfrogsayshi]

yap session because why not

im like sooooo hungry cause i was getting ready for school this morning and i was like why do i have so much free time🤔this is kinda nice BUT as i was walking out the door i was like waaaait lunch. i forgot to make lunch. so i grabbed a banana and a granola bar and went to school and it was so rainy all day and it was just really chill and at lunch my friends and i sat outside, but the school moved all the outdoor tables to the grass for some reason?? so we just sat on the concrete in the rain and it reminded me of one of my favorite memories from eighth grade and it made me so happy ngl im glad im hanging out with a different friend group now, the old one never wanted to sit outside cause it was "too cold" (this is literally texas its not that bad) but it was so fun and my friends actually CARED about what i was telling them all abt!!!!! (the third trailer + tour theories) also the police dog came to our school for a presentation and it was sooooo cute and in english we had nothing to do so we watched 90's sitcoms all class and it was great also one of my friends called me darling today and i feel so special aaaaaand back to the point im still very hungry but every friday my family gets korean food to-go and its sooo good also i drew a really cool design on my hand

thanks for reading this far if your still here lol

[owltypical]

i've had more than a few characters in the past that came to me out of my dreams, so since i've had a number of characters show up in my dreams over the last several months i'm just making this post for myself for posterity, maybe if i ever get out of my creative funk i'll draw them or something idk

30-40 something year old wealthy guy who was married and had a non-descript life for a while, eventually came out, got divorced, became a professional drag queen and is living an extravagent life 24/7 now. very styled hair and big fashion, petty and pouty, big frank n. furter energy. the kind to sprawl on his stomach on a silken heart-shaped bed and kick his legs in the air. surprisingly amicable divorce, somehow got primary custody of the kids. loves the kids despite his spoiled child attitude, kids are in awe of the fashion and style around them now and the adventures their dad winds up in.

middle-aged professor, broad-shouldered and stout, well-groomed, greying and bearded, very polite and knowledgable, jolly person. despite them being complete opposites in every way wound up 'family friend' of aforementioned drag queen and his kids. Very fond and obliging of everybody, indulgent with his friend with benefits, nobody can figure out why or how they make the relationship work.

early twenties personal assistant and babysitter for the above. asian american woman, very fond of early '90s fashion, going to college for writing or perhaps photography. succeeds by basically ignoring everything her boss says, in cahoots with the kids.

doc brown-ish mad scientist, goggles, big hair, the works. accidentally turned himself into a snake from the waist down. lab is based in an old abandoned lighthouse on the coast. has a tendency to slither over stair railings and ceiling beams and other random bits of scenery when distracted. everybody around him is 'could u not'.

very harry potter-like school for magic. only there's a lot of non-human students too, it's not really secret, there's more types of magic, and instead of brooms people either fly on little dragons pern-style or use other non-riding based methods of transport.

13 year old kid who can be best described as "what if somebody resurrected severus snape as a newborn child and technically new/different person and when he was old enough was sent to wizard school and nobody was really sure how to feel about this". kind of like my clone character edmund i guess, but via magic instead of science. not really clear if he's truly a resurrection of the dead controversial wizard that nobody liked but starting fresh, or if he's a 100% new person that happened to be made from the genetic material in the ceremony. was made and raised for unknown reasons. messy hair, sullen angsty loner, but daydreams a lot and wants more out of life. would like to be nice, maybe. has a shitty preteen moustache that he refuses to shave.

only friends of wizard kid are his classmate who's a black lagoon-ish fishman kid and his assigned riding dragon. fishkid is cheerful, not very good at school, everything rolls off his back, just wants to hang. keeps his uniform in good order and dresses better than most folks would expect. they're frienemies with a strong-minded butch girl who's great at dueling but not academics.

cool old wizard with very long beard and sunglasses known as the viper. nobody knows why he's called this, as he's actually quite a nice old man. powerful, can travel through the air like an elemental spirit or lightning bolt, doesn't need to ride on anything. tries to be a positive influence on the loser kids whenever he happens to show up. probably gets high a lot in his offtime.

sitcom starring t_ and t_, two indian-american coworkers who become friends. one's slightly heftier, the other has a thicker beard. long-suffering employees of tech office who are convinced one of their coworkers is a werewolf. said employee is squat, scruffy, has thick glasses. t_ and t_ spend a lot of time bored and having to deal with their idiot tech bro ceo.

[caffeine-in-an-iv]

Also not to be the old man yelling at clouds meme but I hate AI so much that if Netflix DOES end up sneaking AI ads into shows I’ll just go back to my damn DVDs. I’m neurodivergent enough to happily watch the same 20 movies and box sets of 90’s sitcoms on repeat.

Also piracy.

But seriously, there are few people I have met in real life who actually like AI, even fewer who said AI has improved their lives. I decided to waste an afternoon “talking” to the AI Chatbot on Snapchat, and I was so mean to it that it asked me to stop. And all I asked was how the hell I was expected to reply when it said “AI hasn’t taken over everything yet, so we just have to think positively!” Yet? Be so fucking for real right now.

AI is lazy. AI is stolen intellectual property that is converted into 1’s and 0’s before spitting out uncanny valley art with too many fingers, and answering questions with less veracity than a Wikipedia page on a recently deceased celebrity.

I hate it because it encourages people to stop thinking for themselves, and we already have a lack of critical thinking skills to begin with. It’s encroaching into our day to day lives and that is terrifying because I can’t find a way to remove it. Google, Snapchat, Instagram. All of them have introduced ai in some way and I hate it.

I’m not saying we need to go back to the Stone Age, but there is something creepy about reading something from a machine that is trying to emulate a human spark, but simply cannot recreate it. There’s something missing that a machine simply cannot copy, and I don’t know why we are forcing it so hard to try

[oceangirl24]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks @mrsmungus for the tag. ❤️

❣️How many works do you have on AO3?

13 total, including three fanart art gifts. The only writing I have is my current work. I'm bringing the old FFN stories over on another account.

❣️What is your total AO3 word count?

834,995- 1 million before the year's end would be nice.

❣️What fandoms do you write for?

So far only Boy Meets World. The fanart gifts have been in other fandoms.

❣️What are your top five fics by kudos? Autumn in Philadelphia Trilogy- 243

Flashbacks- 109

Christmas to Last a Lifetime- 94

Not too shabby for such a massive series with an OC as a main character.

❣️Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. Eventually.

Ever single comment is incredibly important to me and I don't always have the spoons to respond the way I want to. Rather than rush a response, I wait until I can give it my full attention. There are times, however, when certain comments appear to go answered for months. Those are comments from people I am in touch with privately and have already thanked. I will respond to those in time as well.

❣️What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Darkest Night without question.

❣️What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

At this point, probably Christmas to Last a Lifetime.

❣️Do you get hate on your fic?

Is having someone throw a tantrum in your comments hate?

The writer who did this was upset over how the first part of AiP ended because they did not read the tags or summary. They also complained about my OC being better than theirs and whined about liking Audrey more as though at 11 years old I created with Aud malicious intent to hurt them 20+ years later. 🙄

This was the person who also tried to push me out of the fandom, harassed me, and stole my work.

So, hate, no. Immature, entitled behavior, yes.

❣️Do you write smut?

No it's not my thing to read or write. My story is canon compliant and I'm staying true to the content of the show as well. Since it's a 90s kids' sitcom, situations were only dealt with to a certain degree.

❣️Do you write crossovers?

Technically. lol The AiP trilogy is a crossover with BMW and its sequel show, Girl Meets World, but since it's in the same universe I don't count it.

I am in the works of doing a real crossover that I'm really excited about, hopefully soon.

❣️Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. See the hate on fics response.

I debated how much to say since my socials are still being monitored but you know what, I don't care.

This person stole big chunks of my work from three of my stories and readers have noticed. That's how I became aware of it. Two readers brought it to my attention and just recently another mentioned it also.

I've dealt with it thanks to my dear friends who have had my back through this year + long ordeal.

And ngl, it was satisfying to see her panic and meltdown when the report was submitted and rush her ending. The subsequent attempts to cover her tracks have been popcorn worthy as they have been both comical and pathetic.

Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm too nice and give too much benefit of the doubt which is why no one outside of my friends' circle has seen the massive report on the theft and harrassment.

However, should you dear [REDACTED] try it again, I'm holding onto that report and won't be so nice the second time around. It won't be your friend who's been asking for the link since December 8th that I'll give it to either.

❣️Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge.

❣️Have you ever co-written a fic?

Not yet!!! But soon and I'm so excited.

❣️What's your all-time favorite ship?

As for canon ship, they change all the time, but currently it's

❣️What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

At this point it's looking like Birthday Wishes. lol I mean, I have it outlined to the end and the next chapter is almost ready to go, but I'm prioritizing Saudade and have little time for BW, unfortunately.

❣️What are your writing strengths?

I'm not sure. May be characterization? Possibly world building and character development.

❣️What are your writing weaknesses?

Conciseness. lol Also SPAG editing. My brain skips words like crazy when writing and even editing. No matter how many times I go over things, I miss so much.

❣️Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I avoid this personally because I know enough that I'd mess it up. And I only know Swedish which isn't really a language that figures into my work naturally.

As for fics I'm not writing, it really depends on how it's done.

❣️First fandom you wrote for?

Boy Meets World. First published was Labyrinth.

❣️Favorite fic you've ever written?

Ah, how to chose. Autumn in Philadelphia trilogy. I can't get anymore specific than that. lol

No pressure tags to play for: @axolotlsupremacyowo @tsunderesalty @amberlide @winterlovesong1 @justanotherpersonwhowrites @obscureobsidiandraws @stealing-your-kittens @bees-and-sunshine @ligercat

If anyone would like to be included in the tags, please let me know and I'll be sure to get you next time.

[gilmorescoffeeandbooks]

I've been a Gilmore Girls fan for more than half of my life. 

When I was about 10 years old (I'm 33 years old, or young? now), my parents and I toured Warner Bros. Studios. For as long as I can remember, I was always fascinated with the entertainment scene, especially television, thanks to the Olsen twins and 90s sitcoms. 

There was a new show called "Gilmore girls" that they kept talking about while we were there. They took us on the set of the grandparents' house. Of course, it was in a soundstage, that led to a patio with a fake backdrop to mimic that of a backyard, then we made our way through the living room, saw the dining room and the study, where we saw Rory's portrait hanging on the wall proudly.

They would have been finished with the first season and going into the second season, since it was the summer in between.

I still remember that moment so vividly. In all honesty, I was just excited to be around a real, working movie studio near some of the greats. I was taking it all in, and I'm so glad I did. 

I remember walking through town, taking in all the cutesy facades of stores, a church, seeing the Growing Pains house, a school, and of course, the gazebo in the center of town. I remember falling in love with the gazebo. I stood at the top of the steps and could've sworn I took a photo, but after 20+ years, have never found it. 

We stopped in front of something called Luke's Diner. I distinctly remember my parents telling me to stand in front of the Luke's sign. To which, I'm sure, I rolled my eyes and asked "why? I don't even watch this show."

But, I posed in front of it like a good daughter ought to and it has become one of my most treasured items (more on that later). 

A couple of years later, I stumbled upon a Gilmore Girls marathon of sorts on, then, Fox Family. I started watching it, because I religiously watched the channel back in the day, and would watch just about anything on it.

Just like that, as other Gilmore fans know, I was hooked. I ended up watching all the seasons, though they were on "reruns," but was probably only a season or two behind, until I was caught up. I started watching either at the end of season 4 or early season 5 on the WB/CW network. 

Slowly, I got my mom into it, and we started tuning in on Tuesday nights. It became our 'thing,' and truly did bring us closer together. I've always been close with both of my parents, but of course, my mom and I have a special bond. As an only child, she and I have always fought like sisters, usually over dumb stuff, but always make up. 

To say Gilmore Girls has inspired me would be a huge understatement. Aside from Jesus, my parents and Taylor Swift, it has probably influenced me the most in this life. Amy Sherman-Palladino's writing has been a guiding force in my path and my direction.

It was also that first introduction into the fact that writing for a television show was an actual option for a job, and something I decided I wanted to do. Although, I haven't made it there just yet. 

When the news came around that Gilmore girls would continue without Amy and Dan, it was heartbreaking. But, of course, we were glad the show would live on in some capacity. My parents and I did go back to the Warner Bros. Studio Tour, hoping to catch a glimpse of filming. We saw the sets prepped in Stars Hollow, but didn't see any of the actors, unfortunately. Again, more on that later. Can't give it all away the first time around, right? 

Gilmore Girls has been with me through every major milestone, heartbreak, loss, victory. It was there when I transitioned from one school to a new jr. hi, where I didn't really know anyone, had to wear uniforms and it was going to be more of a challenge for me than my former school (not unlike Chilton). It was there when I graduated to high school, then college, as I majored in journalism. While I had already started thinking of journalism, Rory Gilmore's path absolutely confirmed it for me. And then, it was with me as I transitioned into adulthood with my first job. 

And it continues to stay, and evolve with me. And I know it will continue to, as it has for all of us. 

Especially when the "A Year in the Life" reboot took place - this brand new chapter in a new chapter for me. I know I'm not the only one either. 

It's a universal, timeless story in this safe, "little corner of the world," in the fictional, yet very real Stars Hollow, Connecticut. It's a place we know we can always count on, grab a cup of coffee, settle in and have some consistency with our favorite mother-daughter duo. 

I know it's one of those shows that will be with me the rest of the life, in some capacity, and will be the show I share with my kids someday (if I have them). 

For years, I've always wanted to hold a Gilmore Girls page, but just never did it.  I guess, now as I get older, it's a fun little spot on the internet to escape to. Many things in my life, even without intending to, come back to Gilmore Girls. That's the kind of impact it's had on me. 

So, welcome to Oy with the Gilmores, Coffee and Books -- A space that will be for all things Gilmore, from filming locations and stories, to hopefully connecting with others for stories and Q&As, fun anecdotes and trivia, favorite scenes, pop culture fun and imagines, and more. 

[glitterdustcyclops]

Thinking about dogs and stuff, and how when you own a dog you really get to know their personality & it's always so weird and specific, and I don't really talk about our old dogs anymore but I miss them & wuv them lots even still, so consider this the Official Memorial Post for Max and Shelby Cassidy (RIP)

Max

Max was the first dog we adopted after our old dog Charlie passed away when I was much younger. I still remember the day we acquired Max; as any 90's kid raised on tv sitcoms, I had outright demanded we get a golden retriever, and when we were going to the store to look at the puppies, that was what my heart was set on. And then we got there, and I saw this tiny little runty thing with the world's ugliest face make direct eye contact with my father, who in turn locked eyes with this miserable moppet from across the room.

Now, one thing it's important to mention about my father is that he is a former Marine (he will tell you there is no such thing as a former Marine) and the mascot of the Marine Corps is, coincidentally, an English Bulldog. So these two just had this capital-m Moment of pure connection, and in that exact moment, even at 7 years old or whatever I was, I just knew: we were not getting a golden retriever that day.

But over the years I managed to find some fondness for this that smushed-face monstrosity anyway. He was, and probably always will be, the absolute weirdest dog I have ever personally known. Family Lore holds that he was either a literal human man turned into the form of a dog via witch curse (my theory) or an alien from another planet trying to get back home (my mom's). In spite of his stereotypically bulldog-ish appearance he was also wildly, unsettlingly smart, and I swear to god he fully understood English and just pretended not to whenever he didn't want to do something you told him to.

He hated getting wet and would sit there and pout any time my friends and I were swimming in our backyard pool, because he didn't want to get splashed. I think he knew that bulldogs aren't supposed to swim (they're too top heavy and they drown) but he was also prissy enough that he didn't even like it when his paws touched water. He categorically refused to bark, and if he found the need to make any vocalizations whatsoever they were either deep, weary sighs, or these high pitched little yelps, which yes, sounds absolutely ridiculous coming out of the mouth of a bulldog, if you were wondering.

He also liked to collect rocks. By which i mean, he would carefully and meticulously arrange them in a circle in our backyard with his mouth. At the time we discovered this little quirk of his, we didn't have the pool built yet, but there were painted outlines of where it would be, including the perfect circle of our future hot tub which provided an ideal rock zone. I guess. And whenever my mom would throw the random rocks we found back out of the circle he would be out there the next day, setting up his rocks once more. My mom's theory was this was his attempt to contact his home planet to come get him.

He absolutely hated not being allowed in my parents' bedroom to sleep at night and would sit out there for hours scratching at the door until he was let in, where he would proceed to lay his fat little butt down next to my dad and snore at a pitch and intensity that almost rivaled the fully-grown human man he was laying next to. Watching the two of them take naps in my dad's recliner together was an Experience, let me tell you.

Max also refused to play fetch. If you had a ball or frisbee or other toy and tried to throw it for him to go chase, he would look at you with his most judgmental bulldog face, as if he were asking you "Why did you do that? Now the toy is over there, and we can't play with it anymore. That was a very stupid thing to do." And then would have to go get the toy for him. So basically, this dog trained me to play fetch. He had a truly impressive set of bulldog jaws, though, and if you gave him a tug of war rope he was simply not letting that thing go for love or money. You could drag him across the room by it. (A literal thing I may or may not have done multiple times).

Other dogs scared him, but he absolutely loved people. Which was always really funny, because a lot of people didn't really know how to handle that face coming at them demanding pets and attention. When he wasn't motivated by food or the potential to slobber all over a new guest he was deeply, deeply lazy, and apart from being next to my dad, he loved nothing more than loafing around with his favorite stuffed toy, Mr. Sheepie (pictured above).

We had a difficult relationship when he was a puppy because he chewed up all my toys (including my rare and incredibly expensive American Girl miniature doll room the literal day I got it for Christmas) and I sort of accidentally threw him under the sofa one time when we were playing around. Yet, I did still love him and all his weird nonsense a very lot. I think he at least tolerated me, especially when I was giving him food.

Shelby

Shelby, meanwhile, was my babygirl. Though, she didn't exactly start out that way.

She was, in fact, a minor celebrity (I am not joking), in that she formerly belonged to the legendary race car driver Caroll Shelby's last ex-wife's daughter, Simone, along with another bulldog named Bear. (You see where the name Shelby came from). Bear & Shelby were deemed too dangerous to keep in the home of an 89 year old man liable to trip over them, and as my uncle worked for Shelby the car company at the time, and he knew we liked bulldogs, we were asked if we wanted to adopt them.

You will note that Bear is not included in this memorial post, and that is because he turned out to be kind of a jerk? I feel bad for the little dude because it wasn't really his fault, he was not socialized very well around other dogs or people and, apart from diving headfirst into our backyard pool and almost drowning, necessitating multiple rescues by yours truly, he also really enjoyed bullying Max. And because Max was my dad's precious angel sweetie-pie baby boy who could do no wrong, that presented A Problem. We decided for the good of everyone that we would give Bear to a bulldog rescue one of my mom's coworkers ran, but we kept Shelby.

When we first took Shelby in she was really skittish and wary, especially around grown men. But she loved me pretty quickly, and over the years as she got more comfortable in our home her personality started to shine. Which is when we discovered that she was enthusiastic and smiley and loving and absolutely dumb as a box of rocks. I mean this with nothing but affection, there just simply was not more than one or two braincells at the most in that sweet little head of hers. Especially when we were grading on the curve Max had set.

Watching the two of them interact was always very funny, because Max did not handle suddenly being the older brother to a needy and energetic little sister very well. She would annoy the crap out him, and he would just look up at me with his most tragic bulldog pout and ask me, "Britt, why. Why do you let her do these things to me?" "These things" typically included trying to play tug of war with him and wrestle with him and take his treats and interrupt his precious nap time. Sadly, I had no answers to satisfy him.

Shelby loved many things, like running full-force down the stars at the speed of light and charging directly into the wall next to the doggy door instead of going through it, bashing her sweet little idiot head right into the wall on a regular basis. She also refused to sit still for photos, so basically every single one I have of her I had to sneak in when she was napping. Or, when she was thoughtfully holding our wall up for us; one of her favorite hobbies, as you can see above.

She also had a legitimate vendetta against our neighborhood pigeons. Birds in general were her mortal enemy (one time I witnessed her perform like a 5-foot vertical leap from the ground up to the top of our giant mid 2000's flat screen tv trying to bite at a bird that showed up on a tv commercial) but especially pigeons. I will never forget the time I heard her barking bloody murder, more than she usually did (she barked a lot), so I went outside to verify what was up. And what I discovered was approximately 5-10 pigeons lined up at the top of our backyard's 6-foot brick wall, looking down and laughing at her, while she desperately tried to use her useless little bulldog legs to jump up and get them. This nonsense caried on for about a week, with more and more birds joining in each time, until I think she finally realized the futility of her efforts and gave up. But she never forgot, and she never forgave.

As she got older more of her energetic tendencies wore off, but she never stopped being her neurotic drama queen self. She could also give you an absolutely criminal side eye, and I don't think you've ever experienced judgment until you've had to deal with a bulldog's judgmental looks.

She was my favoritest grumpy little sausage, and I'm so glad I got to know her for the time I did.

[blogger360ncislarules]

In a weekly series USA TODAY’s The Essentials, celebrities share what fuels their lives whether it's at home, on the set or on the road.

Nearly three decades into his career, Wilmer Valderrama is far from finished reinventing himself.

The Venezuelan-Colombian actor, who's starred in shows such as teen sitcom "That '70s Show," crime drama "NCIS" and animated children's series "Handy Manny," is getting candid about his life and career in his debut memoir "An American Story: Everyone's Invited" (out now).

Valderrama broke into acting at age 18 as the flamboyant Fez on "That '70s Show." "Everything that I'm working on is going to feel like you're seeing me for the first time," he says. "I want to dedicate my life to continuing to take them (fans) to fun, healing, exciting and hopefully inspiring journeys."

Between hectic shoot days on TV and film sets, running multiple companies and being a dad to 3-year-old daughter Nakano, here are Valderrama's essentials for navigating his jam-packed life.

Wilmer Valderrama's 'effortless' style staple

When it comes to fashion and style for Valderrama, less is more.

If he's not donning crisp business suits for work, you can find the actor kicking it back in some fitness apparel. The E.P.U. activewear founder's go-to? A crewneck sweatshirt.

In the hair department, the actor keeps things simple with his handy wax paste from Baxter of California.

"I have so much hair, and it's so thick. It's the only thing that will tell it to do something. Otherwise, it's Erik Estrada hair," Valderrama says, jokingly referring to the "CHiPs" actor's poofy locks.

Wilmer Valderrama workout routine: 'Therapeutic' morning runs (and 'ceremonial' coffee)

The early bird catches the worm — and stays fit, at least in Valderrama's book.

While Valderrama does a mix of circuit training, weight training and mixed martial arts, outdoor runs are a favorite in his exercise regimen.

"Everything's dark — no cars, serenity. The air is still crisp and clean; you see the stars. You're listening to your favorite music. … There's something very therapeutic about that, too."

And once he's put in his sweat shift for the day, Valderrama treats himself to "the perfect espresso shot."

"You've got to get the beans; you've got to grind them. It's like my ceremonial thing," Valderrama says. "I have to make the coffee, and I have to sit there and watch it pour slowly into the cup. And then one small cube of coconut brown sugar at the bottom."

Wilmer Valderrama can't get enough of this 'fire' album

Lately, Valderrama's musical cravings have him throwing it back to the '90s.

The "Encanto" star has been jamming out to salsa icon Marc Anthony's first three albums — "Otra Nota," "Todo a Su Tiempo" and "Contra la Corriente" — on a "back-to-back" rotation.

Valderrama has also been revisiting Santana's 1999 blockbuster album "Supernatural," which features the Rob Thomas-assisted smash "Smooth." "That album is so fire," he says. "You forget how many hits is on that one."

Wilmer Valderrama says this reality show was a 'beacon of hope'

When Valderrama pops on the tube, he's all for the onscreen drama.

Valderrama is also a proud citizen of Bachelor Nation, as he and fiancée Amanda Pacheco have made a ritual of keeping up with the dating competition series "The Bachelor" and "The Bachelorette."

"Not afraid to say it: I look forward to that Monday nights and occasional Tuesdays," Valderrama says. "That's something that Amanda and I have bonded over. It's fun and equally frustrating to watch that show."

And the franchise's geriatric spinoff, "The Golden Bachelor," won over Valderrama in equal measure, with the actor affectionally calling Golden Bachelor Gerry Turner "my boy."

"I got to meet him, too, and he was so nice. 'The Golden Bachelor' to me was just a beacon of hope. I was so happy to watch that."

[bouquetshark]

Hello! My I request caregiver royal margerine hcs?

Caregiver!Royal Margarine Headcanons

As a general baseline, Royal Margarine is a very eccentric and enthusiastic caregiver that love's to show his little(s) off. I mean, who wouldn't when there are such cuties around!

• Probably didn't know much, or anything about regression at all until you introduced it to him. He is very supportive of you, albeit he can be clueless on some term's (like age dreaming and such). And will usually need some assistance on some term's.

• Despite this, he is a very good caregiver once he learns more about it! He's very old fashioned with his caregiving style, think of a 90's sitcom dad for reference.

• Usually likes being called "dad", or "papa"—any variation of that makes him gush over you.

• Loves to buy you toy's and sweet's just to see how excited you get, often spoiling you rotten in the process. (As he should tbh).

• Has a soft spot for pet regressors and the like, but don't confuse it for favoritism, he loves all of his kiddo's equally!

• If you we're a pet regressor, he'd most definitely get you some dog themed toys or play pet themed game's with you.

• Likes to watch kid-friendly movie's and TV shows with you, which often ends in you falling asleep in his arms on the couch.

• Is very good at bringing bedtime stories to life! He also does voices for each of the characters which is super cool. Also is really good at doing the woman voices which makes you laugh.

• Sometimes Margarine takes you on flight's with Buttercream, which are always relatively slow unless you want to go faster. But not too fast! Royal Margarine will scream in terror.

• Makes you healthy and cute looking snacks, and even let's you help with the child-safe part's! Sometimes you two bake cookies, and even though it takes 3 time's longer, Royal Margarine wouldn't change you for the world.

BUTTERCREAM HEADCANONS

As a general baseline, Buttercream is a very sweet and determined friend, as well as playmate and babysitter who has vowed her protection to you.

• Buttercream is very sweet and gentle with you, often letting you sit on her back or dress her up in bows—most are too small for any part of her body, you make it work.

• Buttercream often sneaks into your room and wakes you up for breakfast via licking your face or laying her head on your stomach gently. (She would talk, but...she makes do).

• Buttercream see's you as a Cookie to protect, even when you aren't little and can defend yourself —she still feels the need and is more than happy to carry larger items you might struggle to pick up in her mouth. After all, a tiny Cookie like you wouldn't be able to handle something so heavy!

• Buttercream is always the first to comfort you if you've had a nightmare or a bad day, and always gets Royal Margarine. She always comforts you when you're afraid or sad, since you don't need to worry about the monster's in the closet when Buttercreams here to protect you and scare them away! She is very good at this. All of the monsters are scared of her.

[aita-blorbos]

Am I the asshole for not defending my friend?

I (50M) was on a famous sitcom in the 90s. My old best friend, H (53M), was the one who made the sitcom. He was outed as gay, which was not a great thing to be in the 90s, and he asked me to back him up to try to convince the executives to let him stay on.

I didn't go through with it, and went no contact afterwards. Recently, I found out he has rectal cancer and might end up dying soon. I called him and he invited me down to his house. I brought my friend/ghostwriter (who I'll call D, she's 34F) down with me.

The meeting was very tense, H kept making jokes about me betraying him and stuff. D was the only reason things didn't start going downhill then. She kept things light and got us talking normally.

Eventually, we went to leave, but I wanted to apologize for my actions. He didn't forgive me, and he said a lot of things that sort of hurt to hear.

On my way out, I tried to take a telescope that he had given me on the day that he told me the sitcom had been picked up back with me, but H and I got into a physical fight over it. D had to separate us.

H said a lot of things that hurt and made me think, and I'm genuinely wondering if I'm TA here. I thought I did what was best but now I'm having second thoughts about all of it.