#Manager Bubby

[sweetvoicecafe]

Woooooooo I finished Bubby just in time, I gotta rush to bed! The next character poll has an hour left on it and I'll be silent tomorrow. Also a bonus outfit under the cut!

[harmonytre]

Thank you again!! They look absolutely adorable for @sweetvoicecafe! I cannot stop ranting to my friends about this piece of art!!

Art game gift (trade? How do you refer to dtca?) for @harmonytre which was pure fun to draw ❤️❤️❤️

[okaydiscount]

h. hgere. unfinished sketch of a really stupid Rockband 2 vr but the ai is self aware au that im never gonna touch again probably. als o SORRY DR COOMERS NOT THERE just pretend hes playing the drums in the background or smth

also why rockband 2 you might ask? 1. great game that i grew up with and 2. for some reason theres an official dlc for 'still alive' from portal??? that you can play??? and its got orange box art for the album cover its pretty cool

[arrimorr]

Portal hlvrai crossover....au......

SOME OF MY THOUGHTS AND IDEAS are under the cut!!

1) I always found it really funny how aperture has this insane amount of "what to do in case of an alien invasion" recordings. I mean...they had to record them BEFORE the actual invasion started right? They were completely delusional and ended up right. My idea was, that in this wild mix/ swap of Aperture and Black mesa, Black mesa decided to build a security system ai - Benrey. First to keep all the important stuff away from contenders (hence his obsession with identity verification), and then they upgraded the guy to keep the laboratory intact if some crazy alien shit starts to happen. And it did. Now, years in the future, recently awakened from his stasis Gordon has to make his way out of the Laboratory with Benrey on his tail. At first he helps him, but ..well...Gordon doesn't have his id and breaks company property in his attempts to escape so their "friendship" doesn't last long.

2) I also had an idea of making Gman a management core of the lab. He hires personal, keeps everything organised and technically runs the place. When everything went down he just put everyone to sleep to keep the company assets intact. Eventually he broke down, which transferred most of the control functions to Benrey and killed most of the people that were put in the stasis

3) Tommy is a reserve version of the management core. Gman was supposed to be replaced by him if anything went wrong with him, but...well...there were no conscious scientists to do that. To escape from the lab Gordon needs to transfer control of the lab from Benrey to Tommy.

4) They are followed by Coomer and Bubby, who were initially made as testing androids, but now think about themselves as scientists

5) my friend (@/mrrrcesare !!!!) and I joked about Tommy being an orphan that was raised by the turrets. You can call him...Tommy Turretta.... ANYWAYS, as he is a reserve piece of a really important technology, Black mesa saw fit to give him turret guns and fill him with bullets, so despite him not having any hands in this au, he still has a trigger finger

[luveline]

kbd —You gather the family consensus on a fifth baby. mom!reader x dad!Steve, 2k

The first baby you and Steve have is a ringer for him. She’s his copy down to the eyelashes, and she has his good heart. She’s a good sister, a beautiful daughter, and she’s a brilliant student. 

But growing up makes you curious.

“Mom, why are you in the bathroom again?” 

You laugh nervously. “What?” you ask, gaze on your hands. 

“You’ve been in here like ten times today! Are you okay?” 

She sound so, so cute when she’s suspicious. Her voice twists up and her concern feels too big. She knows it’s not normal to go to the bathroom this many times and she’s clearly not okay with this new development. 

She knocks the door hard. “Do you need me to get dad?” 

You open the door and pull her in quickly. She giggles, startled to be grabbed and put on the counter, her hair falling into her eyes the same wavy pattern as her dads. He’s got strong genes. Steve stamps the kids as Harrington’s, all except your Beth, who looks just like you. 

“Mom, what the heck is going on?” 

“I’m gonna ask you a huge question and you have to tell me your first answer. Don’t worry about anything else. Be honest, okay?” 

“Okay. You’re making me nervous.” 

You show her your pregnancy test. “You know what this means?” 

She wrinkles her nose. “Did you pee on that?” 

“I did. Babe, do you know what that means, though?” 

“You’re having another baby?” Avery guesses. You go quiet. She beams at you. “Wait! Wait, mom, are you having another baby?” 

“I don’t know yet.” One positive test and six negatives makes you think it was a mistake, but you’ve been pregnant four times before. You’re starting to feel like an expert. “If I did have another baby, what would you think?” 

She tips her head back. You put the test aside and take her smaller hands into yours. She’s so pretty, all your babies are beautiful, and they’re all so special, and maybe you do want another one. Is that crazy? 

You nibble your lip as Avery thinks. 

“Well, we need a bigger house.” 

You nod agreeably. “We do.” 

“I love being a big sister.” 

“You’re the best one there ever was.” 

Avery holds your hands back, still smiling. “Well, mommy, I think it’s good. Then I will have four sisters. That’s even more than Stacey K.” 

You look her dead in the eye, but it’s all love pouring between you both. “So if mommy wants to have another baby, that’s okay? You’d be happy?” 

Avery puckers for a kiss, which you give. You wrap your arms around her and push her head into your neck. “Have another baby if you want, mommy,” she says, laughing, “I love babies. Um, most of the time. More now you got us the sound machine.” 

“Avery… don’t tell anybody, okay? Can we keep this our secret? I don’t know if I’m gonna have another one yet. I need to make sure everyone’s happy first.” 

Avery pats your back. It’s adorable. “Sure, mommy.” 

You ask Beth, next. Stealing her away from her colouring sometime later that day, you pull your second eldest against your chest outside in the back yard and watch the clouds move in the sky as it changes from blue to carnation pink. “Bubby?” 

“Yeah?” Beth asks. 

“Can I ask you a secret question?” 

“Yes.” She looks away from the sky. “Why?” 

“Because I care about what you think, okay?” 

“I know.” 

You ask Beth if another baby would be too many. She says no. She says she needs a brother, maybe twins if you can manage it, but it’s fine if you can’t. You kiss her cheek and spend another ten minutes with her staring up at the changing colours.

The first test being positive rocked your world. You were happy, but shocked to find yourself grinning at the two pink lines, because you thought four was enough. There’s a few years between each of your girls and you’d never expect to be pregnant again so soon after the last —you and Steve had one good night a fortnight ago. Wren’s not even a year old. 

Why do you want another baby so badly? 

You kiss Beth again. You love your kids, and you finally, finally got that promotion at work, and you’d been thinking about moving anyway, because two of the girls are sharing a room. You didn’t bring it up in fear of upsetting your sentimental husband before it was necessary. All your babies grew up here. This is where you and Steve started your life, and it’s never perfect but it’s amazing, and he’ll not want to leave it. 

He would be much happier if you left to make room for another baby, though. 

If you ask Dove what she thinks, she’ll probably say yes and grumble, and then spill the secret, so you don’t ask, but you watch her carefully for a while when Steve demands you and Beth come back inside. 

You let Beth run off and sit down. 

“You’ll catch a bug,” he says, leaning over your seat at the kitchen table to kiss your cheek. “You’re already freezing.” 

“We were watching the sun go down.” 

“Watch from the window.” He squints at you, his arms wrapping around your front. “Something wrong?” 

“No.”

“Okay, liar.” He taps your chin until you lift it and kisses you soundly. “It’s a good thing you’re this beautiful. You wouldn’t get away with your shit if you weren’t.” 

“My shit.” 

He grins into another kiss. “Sorry,” he says, kissing you softly. “I’m kidding, I love you, don’t frown at me.” 

You entrap him for a skewiff hug. He couldn’t be more eager, nosing at your cheek, the baby and Dove giggling at something where they sit at the table eating skinny banana slices. 

“They’re like us,” Steve says, following your gaze, “best friends.” 

You push him away from you gently. “Shush. Don’t you have stuff to do?” 

“I bet you think so. But no, I don’t, I’ve done everything.” 

Four kids is a lot, and somehow you and Steve have gotten really, really good at being their parents. You have four healthy, happy girls, with all the food they could ever eat and more princess dresses than they could ever wear. Now it’s six thirty on a Saturday and all that’s left to do is watch some TV. 

Maybe you’re an idiot to mess this up. 

“I need to pee really badly, so watch the baby.” 

“Jerk,” you say. You do not need to be told to watch your own baby. 

He snickers as he leaves. 

It was the high of the test. That first positive test was just a shock, is all. Your life is perfect now, nothing needs to change, because Steve loves you more and more everyday, and you adore him —you’d do anything for him and your girls. You and Steve would treasure another baby, but some things aren’t meant to be. 

But– but you could have another one. So you’re not pregnant right now, so what? Steve would have another baby with you if you asked. He’d probably spin you around in circles and call you the best, sweetest woman alive. You could spend the next nine months on the couch and he’d still think that way. 

“Baby?” Steve calls. 

“What, dad?” Bethie asks. 

“Not you, baby. Mommy, can you come here?” 

Your system gets another shock. Shit, the bathroom. 

You grab Wren to her horror and Dove’s jealousy and chug her along to the bathroom. You could’ve left her in her high chair, but soft bananas are a scary task for an unsupervised baby who eats mash for every meal.

Steve’s waiting in the doorway. It’s a small bathroom, and you can see as quickly as he can the mess of pregnancy strip tests you left on top of the bathroom trash can. There’s two in his hand. 

“Steve, I was gonna tell you about it,” you say, frowning. 

He frowns back. “Yeah?” he asks. 

“Really. I mean, obviously I would have,” —you tell each other everything— “but I was trying to work out how I feel, and the girls too. Avery always wants more sisters and Beth said she wants a brother and–” You smile. “I know I said we were done having babies for a while, if ever again, I know that was me, but when I thought I was pregnant again I got this rush of happiness going through me like a wave.” You shift Wren and her frowning higher up your chest. She’s appeased by a quick kiss pressed to the top of her head. “I don’t know why but I think I really want another baby.” 

He leans against the doorway, his arms crossing, with a strange expression playing on his mouth. 

“You can probably tell. I took like, twenty tests,” you exaggerate, embarrassed by your impromptu speech. “I kept hoping they’d come up positive. I got one positive first and the rest were negative, so I guess it was just a fluke.” 

“Ohhh,” he says, smiling around it. “Oh, that makes more sense.” 

“What makes sense?” 

“I think they just needed a little more time to cook, honey. They’re all positive.” He isn’t good at hiding how happy he feels. “You really want another one?” 

He’s achingly hopeful. 

You close the gap between you to lean on him and check the tests. “It must be super early,” Steve murmurs. 

“Well, it was only two and a half weeks ago,” you murmur back, seeing the double pink lines for yourself. Both tests are positive. “The ones in there, they’re…” 

“They’re all positive. When was the last time you had your eyes tested?”

“It was dark in there,” you joke, not sure what to say, even as a crest of pure joy begins to rise through your entire body. Your hands hum. 

“You want another baby?” he asks, pulling you tightly against him. “Then let’s have another baby. Let’s do it. You can have everything you want.” 

You stare at him. 

He nods. “We can do it. Let’s have another baby.” 

Heat in your eyes, the barest line of tears in your waterline as you give him a one-armed hug. “You want to?” you ask. 

He breathes out by your ear. “That’s a dumb question. And it’s pretty good luck, right? I mean, we weren’t trying, I didn’t even know you wanted another one, so for it to catch…” He does that groaning pleased thing where he buries his nose against the side of your face. 

“I didn’t know until the test was in my hand.” 

He laughs happily into your skin before he pulls away. He kisses you, he kisses Wren, and he flicks your tummy gently. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of Harringtons.” 

You get another loving kiss for all your efforts. “Steve?” you ask, eyes still closed, his face hovering just an inch away from your own. 

“What, honey?” He says it like light of my life, angel, sweetheart, all the devotion you're used to. 

“We’re probably gonna have to move.” 

“Are you kidding? I already figured it all out. We’re gonna convert the attic.” 

You laugh as he dots a kiss against your cheek. “We are?” 

“I got a quote a couple of months ago, I figured if Beth and Avery got too picky we could give Avery a new room upstairs. But it’ll still work, don’t you think?” 

You finally descend into giggly happy tears and Steve pretends he’s immune, but you hear him sniffing as you stroke Wren's chubby cheek with your finger. “What do you think, sweetheart?” you ask softly. “Do you want a baby sister? How about a brother? What are you thinking?” 

She gurgles her own laugh. “Da,” she says, pointing at Steve like he’s funny. 

“Do I get to decide?” Steve asks her, gasping happily. 

Steve has a lot more to say about it all later that night when the kids are sleeping, baby Wren on his chest, just for an hour before you both sleep too. 

He starts with asking if you’re sure, which you are for now, then the scary stuff, because you got really exhausted last time and it’s not going to be easier. He talks so much and you just lay there, in awe, because he means what he told you. You can have everything you want. Steve’s gonna make sure of it. 

“I’ll get you some prenatals in the morning, okay?” he promises, stroking hearts into Wren’s sleeping back.��

You shift over the pillow to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, H. I love you.” 

“I love you so much I don’t think you get it,” he says, tipping his head your way.

But you do. It’s why five kids feels like a gift, and not a curse. You get how much he loves you. 

[sweetvoicecafe]

YIPPPEEE SVC BUBBY!!!

bubby design & bug designs

[novahreign]

Terry Richmond x black fem

Summary: Charlie is at her wits end running her household by herself. She just needs one thing and that’s her husband. (Hoping to get better at summaries)

Angst, Fluff.

I hope you enjoy!

Charlie was at her wits end. She swallowed the hard jump in her throat as she stirred the tomato sauce for the spaghetti. She tapped the spoon on the edge of the pan, then it set it on a napkin. She checked her phone, it read 5:20 p.m, her husband Terry would be home soon. He had gone to pick up one of their twin sons, Terry Jr “Tj” from baseball camp. The other twin was currently staring her down, concerned etched in his face.

“You okay, mama?” He was just like his father-observant and empathetic.

“Im okay Tye, thank you.” She managed to give him a small smile, hoping that would keep him from asking any further questions.

“Alright.”

He turned his attention back to building his Lego battleship. Charlie turned the fire down, letting the sauce simmer.After, popping some garlic knots in the oven, she went to check on her other set of twins-girls.

“Callie, Truth? What are you girls doing?”

Callie was propped up on a bean bag pillow, intently watching Bluey, while Truth sang “Girl on Fire” at the top of her lungs, repeating the same line over and over.

“What are you girls doing?” She asked again, her eyes scanned the playroom-it was a mess. Dress up clothes, magnets, pretend food and foam blocks were scattered all over the floor. “Girls!” She huffed, “what did we talk about? You’re not suppose to pull all of the toys out, like this.”

“Truth did it.”

“Nuh uh, Callie did!” She frowned, “You did that Callie, stop lying!”

Charlie had to keep from rolling her eyes. The last thing she needed was breaking up a fight between her toddler twins “It’s both of y’all’s toys, so you two, need to work together.” She clapped her hands “get to it.”

“Hey bubba boy.” She cooed, kneeling down peppering kisses on his cheeks “Ooo, Carter Jay, you stink.” She got him out of the walker, grabbed a diaper and the pack of wipes. She laid him on the couch to change him.

Their living room looked like a nursery. She had just finished cleaning it that morning, and it was almost right back to how it was before. She sighed deeply, feeling the lump starting to form again and the tension build even more in her body. She had just threw away Carter’s diaper when she caught a glance at the camera, neither Truth or Callie were doing what they were told.

“Girls!” She yelled, causing Carter to jump. “I’m sorry bubba.” She chuckled. Her poor baby boy was looking at her like she was crazy.

She placed Carter back into the walker, who immediately stared crying. “You’re okay baby, you’re okay.” She moved to cut the stove off and took the bread of the oven. “Tye, could you watch him for a minute please, while I go check on your sisters?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t take him out though, please.”

“I got you mama”.

Back upstairs, After correcting them, she helped the girls picked up their toys, placing them in their designated spots, with a warning to not pull all the toys out again. She grabbed the remote, turning off the television. She scooped up Callie, placing her on her hip.

“Bluey!” Callie whined

“We aren’t watching Bluey anymore. You’re going to eat dinner, take a bath and go to bed.”

She slid down Charlie’s body, melting to the floor. Callie was their dramatic child. Carter spotted his mama and started up crying again.

“Great, now I have two kids crying,” she thought to herself as she took Carter back out of his walker.

“Yall go wash your hands for Dinner, you to Tye.”

“Aw man, but I’m not done yet mama.” She shot him a look.

“Yes ma’am” he hopped down from the stool. “Don’t touch my stuff Truth.”

“I’m not going to touch it, bubby, I’m just looking at it.” Her green eyes peeking over the counter.

“You better not.”

The garage door opened and Terry and his Jr, walked in. Truth immediately ran to him with her arms outstretched “Daddy!” He happily picked her up, planting kisses and telling her how much he missed and loves her.”

“Hey mama,” Tj wrapped his arms around her waist

“Hey sweetie, how was camp?”

“It was good, and fun! I hit a dinger and got three home runs.”

“That’s my guy.” They high-fived

He had a big smile on his face, showing his two missing front teeth ”Yeah, everybody can just call me Benny “the jet” Rodriguez now.” He hit the griddy dance.

Charlie laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead “Okay, Benny. How about you, griddy yourself to bathroom and wash up, you’re so sweaty, ugh.” He tickled Carter’s feet, causing the baby to laugh. “I’m gonna get those legs Carter boy.”

Charlie rushed him along “Go baby, quick, quick, quick.”

Terry leaned against the counter, taking in their encounter. Charlie turned toward him and sticking Carter out for him “Here you go, Say, Hi Daddy.”

Terry nibbled on his chunky boy. “Hey baby.” He leaned down, kissing her lips.

“Hi, honey.” She was just about to lean into him, when Callie started up her wailing. Charlie let out a frustrating huff.

“What’s up with her “he nodded towards Callie.

Charlie just looked at him.

“Oh.”

“Exactly.”

Understanding how their child operated from time to time. Callie was no longer crying because of Bluey, but because no one wanted to play with her, although no one was playing but sitting at the table, ready to eat.

He looked at Callie, his sweet little baby twin. Tears streaming down her red cheeks. Out of all his kids, she was most like him as a child, not only that, she looked the most like him, from the skin complexion, to the eyes, even down to the big ears. He looked from his daughter to his wife. She wore a weary expression.

“Baby.” He called out to her

“Hum.” She answered as she put the plates of food on the table for the kids.

He stopped her from making another plate, “How was your day beautiful?” As she looked at him, there, he saw the unshed tears. He pulled her into him.

“I need your words baby.” He said as he ran a hand up and down her back. He adjusted Carter who stopped playing with his ear to look at his mommy. “Talk to me baby.”

She patted his chest. “Not good, but I’ll be fine.”

He’s known this woman for twelve years, and knew that she was no where near fine. He understood that this wasn’t exactly the right time, so he let it go-for now.

He hooked his arm around Tye, who was passing him by. “What’s up son.”

“What’s up dad!” He dapped his father up.

“You ain’t been giving your mama, a hard time, have you?”

“No, Sir.”

“That’s what I love to hear, holding it down while your daddy’s gone.” he kissed his forehead. “Your legos looking good. I’m going it have to check it out after dinner.”

Tye smiled, he was happy that his daddy was home. “I love you dad.”

“I love you too.”

They sat at the table as a family, well all except for Callie, who was still pouting.

“Callie, are you gonna eat your food?” Tye asked his little sister.

“Yeah, Callie. You gonna be hungry.”

She grunted at her twin, “Leave me alone Truth.”

Truth rolled her eyes and waved her off “whatever.”

Terry and Charlie pressed their lips together to keep from laughing. Charlie shook her head as she broke up Carter’s noodles, then turned back to look at Callie

“Callie, when Daddy starts washing dishes. Dinner will be over and you’re not going to be able to eat,so, if you’re hungry, you need to come eat.”

Callie didn’t say anything, just looked at Charlie.

“Did you hear your mother?” Terry’s calm but firm voice broke Callie’s gaze away from her mother’s. She nodded her head.

“I needs your words Callie Marie.”

“Yes sir.” She pouted.

“Alright, then. Come eat your food.”

She started crawling on the tile for “Stand up and walk.” She did what her daddy told her and sat down next to her mother. She looked at Charlie for sympathy “I’m glad that you decided to join us. Eat your food please.” She cast a quick glance at her father and did what her mama asked of her.

Once dinner was over and the kitchen was cleaned, Terry helped the boys with their legos. The girls were coloring and Charlie was playing with Carter on the couch.

“Uh oh, ooooo, mommy!” Callie jumped on the arm of the couch and tapped her repeatedly. “Mommy, Truth colored on the wall.”

“What?!” Charlie got up and sure enough, Truth had taken crayons to her newly painted walls, “Did you do this?”

Truth slowly shook her head .

”No ma’am! You know better than that Truth!” She grabbed a soapy rag and tried to scrub it off

“Callie did it too.” She said throwing her sister under the bus.

“Nuh huh!” Callie yelled from the couch

Callie wasn’t being honest. Charlie made out her name on the wall. Where she was practicing.

“Callie, you did, because you tried writing your name. Why would yall do that? Put the crayons on the counter.” She kept scrubbing “How the Fu-it’s not even coming off!” She stood up. “Yall are done for the night! We’re going upstairs,taking baths and going to bed.”

The girls started crying. “No, I don’t want to hear it.” She lead the girls upstairs “Yall knew better. Boys! Yall have thirty minutes with the legos and then it’s showers and bed, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am.” They looked at eachother, glad that they weren’t on the receiving end of their mother’s frustration.

She got the girls bathed and in their PJs.

“I’m sorry for coloring in the wall

Mommy, I love you.” Truth hugged her.

“I’m sorry too, mommy.”

She sighed.”Tomorrow is a new day, we’ll make better choices.”

They asked for a bedtime story, she declined and they knew better than to start whining, she kissed them good night and left the room. When she made it back downstairs, she noticed the boys were missing and downstairs was damn near spotless.

“Where are the boys?”

“Upstairs, showering and getting ready for bed.” Carter was sleeping peacefully in his daddy’s arms. Terry placed him the portable crib.

“Come here beautiful “ she walked into his outstretched arms

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’ve ran you a bath, go and take all the time you need.”

“All the time, I need. That’s sounds wonderful. Thanks baby.” She kissed him before going into their bedroom. She stripped out of her clothes and sank into the water “oh my goodness, this feels amazing.” The water was just the right temperature- it soothed her aches. She relaxed in the water, resting her head on the back of the tub. She needed this.

Life away from their family was hard. After leaving the Marines, Terry got into the oil and gas industry, which uprooted their family to a city on the outskirts of Houston, Tx. He made good money working in that industry and with her income as a Dentist, they lived comfortably for a family of seven, but this job required Terry to work turnarounds every now and then and when he did, he rarely saw his family. Again? The money was great, but with him being absent and them having five kids, the load fell solely on Charlie. She loved her kids but it could be a lot. That’s the only down side of not having your family near. She did receive help every other weekend from Olivia, a part time preschool teacher but that was bi-weekends. She was thankful for her but nothing compared to doing all of this with Terry and she was glad that he finished his last week of a thirteen week turnaround today.

Charlie finished her night routine and entered the bedroom, hoping to find Terry, who wasn’t in there. She grabbed her Dahlia lotion from bath and body works and rubbed it all over her body and sprayed a vanilla scented perfume named “Skylar” on her neck, wrist and behind her knees. She was feeling like herself again. She dressed in an oversized Whitney Houston t-shirt and a pair of boys shorts before exiting the room to find her husband.

“Baby?” She whispered just in case he still had Carter. She noticed the living room lights were dim. She stepped out further, confused “oh my gosh, Terry!”

Her husband stood there with a bouquet of roses in his hands and a huge bag from her favorite jewelry store-James Avery. She truly was becoming a Texan girlie. The room was lit with some candles, that smelled amazing. It gave the room a nice ambiance. He had a nice little spread of mini pizzas, fruit and champagne on the living room floor. Charlie laughed as tears came down her face. She held her hands clasped under her chin as she looked at her husband, she slowly moved toward him.

“I love you so much, baby.” She kissed his lips multiple times “thank you for this.”

“Anything for you Char. I love you baby.”

Terry handed her the roses.

“Awww,honey, They’re beautiful. I don’t think we have a vase big enough for these.”

“It’s cool, I got one.”

“Look at you thinking of everything and thinking of me.”

He kissed her hand “I’m always thinking of you Charlie.” She caressed his face.

“Ahhh!!! My husband is amazing. Thank you Jesus!!!” She whispered yelled walking into the kitchen.

Terry laughed as she went to put the flowers in the vase.

The night was filled with some much laughter and teasing one another. They were enjoying this much needed time together. She leaned against Terry and held her arm out. “Baby, I’m loving this charm bracelet, it’s so me.” She admired the charms. All the things she loved. He knew her so well.

“I meant to ask, Did Carter go down good?”

“He put up a fight, but I had him.”

“He’s just used to mommy’s boobies.”

“Well he ain’t have much of choice tonight, with his spoiled ass.”

“Leave my little chocolate baby alone. He does no wrong. However, Callie, that sweet baby twin of yours, sis, is on another level. I love her but my goodness. She’s literally all you. Had me ready to pull all my hair out.

“My baby does no wrong.”

“What do you call that Picasso art work, miss ma’am did on my wall.”

“Wasn’t that Truth?”

She snickered “here you go…honestly that surprised me. I wouldn’t have thought, she would do that. Truth is usually in her own world, miss independent. “Sometimes, I feel like a terrible mom.I hate having to get onto them, in that way, it wasn’t fair, I was already frustrated and then those damn crayons and my wall.”

Terry let her vent, he didn’t say anything until he was sure that she was done.

“I know that we’re still adjusting to life here in Texas and with our family and a lot has fallen on you. I’m thankful for all that you do for me and our kids. You hold us down, like no other. I know we don’t have the support we had in North Carolina, but you have made this transition smooth. I love you and appreciate you so much Charlie. I want you to know that I see you. You’re an amazing wife to me and amazing mother to those kids, they adore you! The way the boys were gushing about you, they have such great respect and love for you, baby! You’re the best mother to my kids. Never doubt your ability to mother them. And I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re a terrible mother or hear that out of your mouth, because you’re not and never will be. Im here for you baby and whatever I need to do, to ease this parenting burden for you, I will do it. I know our time has been few and far between but I promise to make it up to you. Because it’s me and you Charlie. We’re in this together. I got you forever, Charlie. Thank you for holding me down.”

Charlie wiped her tears “thank you for always making me feel seen and heard. Just you listening to understand to me, warms my heart Terry. I swear God handcrafted you for me.”

“I pray that I always show up for you and make you feel safe to be vulnerable.”

She turned in her husband arms and kissed him with everything in her. “I needed you so bad, thank you for being here.”

He kissed her equally as hard. “Let me take care of you.”

She climbed on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I know, I tell you all the time but I also really appreciate everything you for us. You’re such a man of honor and I couldn’t imagine anyone else loving me and my babies the way that you do. She licked his lips “the best husband award goes to you….now I want you to make love to me. Show me how much you missed me.”

Terry spent the rest of the night, doing just that.

[basement-nursery]

Imagine Older Stepbro!yan…

Contains: stepcest, big brother/little sister dynamics, perverted behavior, Yandere behavior, cursing, infantilization, clueless!reader, using gay as an insult.

Pairing: M!yandere x f!darling

Everyone depicted on this blog is 18+. DNI if the above triggers you. All hate will be blocked/deleted.

Stepbro!yan who “accidentally” barges in while you're changing and acts all grossed out when he sees you.

He totally tries to sneakily take pics of you at every opportunity.

Who loves to borderline hit on you infront of y’alls parents like it doesn't cluster you.

Stepbro!yan who goes behind your back to beat up your boyfriends and threaten them because no one deserves his precious little step-sister.

Tells you you're too young and cute and to let big brother handle it.

Gets hard anytime you call him bro, big brother, Stepbro, or (and his favorite) Bubby.

That somehow always manages to show up where you are to bother you. (he has a tracker installed on your phone)

Will only play cute/cozy games with you because “you’ll fuck up my important files since you suck.”

Who listens to his shitty edgy music a bit too loud in his room and is always shirtless with sweatpants sat dangerously low on his hips when you yell at him to turn it off.

Calls you Sis infront of all his friends who knows he’s down bad for you, but not the extent.

Is always prepared to throw hands for, with, or over you.

Stepbro!yan who starts inviting you to come smoke weed with him on nights mom and dad are out since you guys are adults and can have the house to yourselves.

Who fights with your parents if they tell you no.

Him: You look fucking pretty today. You: Huh? Him: I said you look pretty fucking gay.

Teaches you how to roll joints and lets you hit his vape.

Bursts into your room at random times to annoy you, usually choosing to lay on your bed and be an annoying nuisance until you acknowledge him.

Lets you wear his shirts and secretly loves it when you do.

“Say ‘Pretty, pretty please bubby’ and I’ll give it back, I swear!”

Stepbro!yan who's gotten more bold recently letting his fingers graze your lower back, whispering into your ear, joking that he’ll kiss you…

Leans against the wall in the shower with your discarded panties held to his face as he fists his aching, leaky cock.

Who lets you fall asleep in his bed during his late night gaming sessions and instead of waking you up just slides into bed next to you, forcing himself not to grope you in your sleep.

Always tries to do bets/deals where you'd be his to boss around for x amount of time.

“Pretends” to invite you to sit on his lap as he games, always saying its a joke and he's teasing.

Stepbro!yan who “jokingly” sends stepsibling memes to you totally not as a way to hopefully turn you on.

[ilminnestrone]

I commissioned @wowa-bublord for a piece from the first chapter of my fanfiction Unsugared Taste, because I thought it really fits her vibe... and I was right! They picked their favourite part and created this lovely short comic that made me fall in love with my own story once again. Thank you Bubby for your time and talent! ✍🏻

Consider commissioning him too or helping his family with a donation here. And if you can't, remember a reblog is free. ❤️

A slender figure emerged from a tangle of branches, stumbling and grumbling: “I’m sick of it.” Angeal pulled himself up and held out both hands to help his struggling friend; Gen grabbed them and managed to get free from the bush.

“You’re bleeding, Gen,” Angeal snorted, examining a pale wrist, “again”.

“Shut up”.

They plopped on the grass side by side; Angeal wasn’t letting the topic drop: “Gen, you cut yourself in there”.

“Fine!” Gen practically threw the bleeding wrist into his lap, eyes rolling back in frustration. Angeal trailed a finger along the wound, a delicate touch that drew an hiss nonetheless; he instinctively brought it to the mouth and slightly sucked away a drop of already coagulating blood, then he turned it around and left a swift kiss on the back of the hand: “you will survive!”

“Fuck off”.

[sweetvoicecafe]

I am going insane and cannot express how much I adore this piece!!!! /vpos

a commission I did for @harmonytre-reblogs! She very kindly donated a large amount to Lina Wael's GoFundMe. If you'd like some artwork and wish to help Lina's loved ones escape Gaza, please follow the link and donate.

[harmonytre]

A frame redraw for a MAP, including my HLVRAI AU, @sweetvoicecafe!

[sweetvoicecafe]

To thank you all for being patient while I finish Forzen's reference, have some funny doodles I made from Joshua's point of view!

[kedsandtubesocks]

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

[miloscozycorner]

𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐬.

Carer!Natasha Romanoff x Little!Reader

• For weeks now, you had been acting out- being naughty, not listening, pushing Natasha’s buttons. At first, she thought you were simply being bratty, but she quickly learns it was much more than that.

cw: age regression

(1,060 Words)

You didn’t know why you were doing it- you hated getting in trouble. You didn’t like seeing Natasha get frustrated or lose her patience. You genuinely wanted to be good, to just make her proud. You weren’t a brat.

But for some reason, you found yourself unable to behave. Every bedtime caused a tantrum, every “no” was a crying fit- all the rules that typically caused no issues turned into meltdowns when Natasha tried to enforce them. And as bad as Natasha felt to admit it, she found herself slowly losing her patience.

“No, no, no!” You shouted, stomping your foot, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Natasha crouched down to your level with pursed lips and a frown tilting her lips downwards. “I don’t wanna go to bed! No!”

Your words turned into incoherent babbles as you wailed, beginning to flail your limbs in utter frustration at the mention of bedtime. Natasha took a sharp inhale through her nostrils, trying to keep her patience with you. It didn’t make any sense- you never acted up like this, ever.

Strong arms wrapped around your torso as you cried, a gentle hand patting your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“Baby, it’s okay.” Natasha murmured into your ear with furrowed brows. She looked at you, tilting her head, “Why are you being so naughty, hm? Mama doesn’t want to make her little one have an earlier bedtime but this behavior isn’t making it easy on me, love.”

At that, you simply wailed louder, getting more and more distressed. Natasha was at even more of a loss. “I’m not naughty!” You wailed, your legs kicking as Natasha tried to walk you to bed, bouncing you on her hip. “I don’t want any early bedtime!”

Natasha tried to bite her tongue, tried to keep her patience, but when you simply flailed your limbs the moment she placed you down on the bed, you started to screech again, and she just couldn’t. “Listen to me. You’re being bratty and it’s not okay. I don’t know why you’re being naughty, and you know mama doesn’t like to punish you, but I have to.” Natasha snapped.

Your wails simply gotten louder, and Natasha had to take a deep breath to try and calm herself, running slender fingers through her hair.

“First, you’re going to go into timeout for yelling at mama, because we use our nice words. And bedtime is going to be an hour early for a few days, okay?” Natasha spoke, more stern than you thought you’d ever heard her be.

Natasha thought that would have got you to listen, but to her frustration, you just started to sob louder and sunk onto the floor, losing control. “No! You’re being mean, you’re being mean!” You screeched on the floor, hiccuping on your own sobs.

Mean? Natasha didn’t get what was going on.

“Why are you being so mean! ‘S not fair!” You cried from the floor with a trembling bottom lip.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you as Natasha watched you, absolutely at a loss for what to even do anymore. She chewed on her bottom lip, her mind racing. She didn’t get it.

You had started to whine and wail, rocking yourself on the floor. Your fingers tugged on your hair, and Natasha winced at the sight. For a moment, you thought Natasha was simply going to walk away, until the floor creaked ever so slightly and you saw the shadow of her figure crouch next to you.

“Bubby, I don’t get what’s going on. You need to talk to mama, or I can’t help.” Natasha said as softly as she could, hesitating before gently moving you on her lap. You didn’t protest. Instead, you sniffled, allowing her pat your back while you adjusted yourself on one of her thighs.

“Because- because I’m having big feelings!” You finally managed to get out, and Natasha’s brows furrowed. “‘N I don’t wanna be a bad baby, but ‘m bad all the time! I don’t know why I’m broken.”

Natasha’s heart shattered at your words, and she was quick to shake her head. “Oh my love, you’re the furthest thing from a bad baby. You’re having big feelings because you have such a big heart, angel. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of, and it certainly doesn’t make you bad.”

Logically, you knew Natasha’s words were true. But it felt so heavy. Carrying big feelings all the time, that no one else is. “I don’t know why ‘m being bad.” You admitted, quieter this time.

“Honey, you aren’t bad. You were upset, and that’s what mama’s here for, hm? I’m here to help you through these big feelings. When you feel icky. Even when you’re being naughty, you’re still my baby.” Natasha responded softly, her fingers tracing circles down your spine.

You found relaxing in her arms, and mumbling in discontent when she scooped you up and moved you to cuddle up in your bed, handing you your favorite stuffed animal and blankie. “Do I still have to do timeout?” You asked, clearly a bit hopeful for a “no”.

Natasha tutted, shaking her head as she wrapped the blankets around you. “You know the rules, bunny. Even when we’re having big feelings, we need to use our nice words. But that doesn’t make you bad, okay?”

She could sense the disappointment on your face, but simply adjusted your stuffie close in your arms and curled up beside you in her own blanket. “But you’re not mad, mama?” You finally gathered the courage to ask, looking up at her.

“No baby, of course mama isn’t mad. And I’m so proud of you for telling mama that you were having big feelings. Just because you’re getting timeout doesn’t mean I’m angry, okay?”

The reassurance comforted you, and you found yourself nodding, leaning against the headboard. “‘M sorry.” You mumbled, nervously glancing towards Natasha once more.

Natasha was quick to reply. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my angel. That’s what mamas are here for- to take care of you, no matter what. Now why don’t you rest your pretty eyes, my love. It’s been a long day, and I know my baby must be tired.”

You didn’t even bother to protest. Instead, you nodded and curled in on yourself- letting your eyes start to flutter, until they closed and the sound of Natasha’s breaths faded.

And maybe, just maybe, it would be okay. Because you had mama, and that was enough.

[avatar-anna]

After reading Harry and Julian’s relationship I can’t even image how Harry would be on his first day of school. I would love to see how Harry would react to each of his babies first days of school

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

"Chin up, love, you're gonna make your old man cry."

Julian's little bottom lip wobbled as he tried to take a deep breath through his sniffly nose. His eyes were lined with a fresh wave of tears, his chubby cheeks ruddy from the ones he shed on the car ride to school. With a shaky voice, the cutest and most heartbreaking it had ever been, Harry thought, Jules said, "I'm s—sorry, Daddy."

"It's okay, JuJu," Harry promised, ignoring the bite of the cold tile floor on his knee as he knelt in front of his son. "Today is going to be so much fun, and it'll go so fast."

"But why can't you stay?" Julian asked, his big eyes pleading.

Those were the eyes that typically had his son getting his way without fail. Harry could never resist that particular look, especially when Julian's lips were pouted just so. My sweet boy, Harry thought. All grown up.

"Because this is school, bubbie. This is where kids go to learn."

"But you and Mommy help me learn," Julian reasoned.

"You've got an answer for everything," Harry murmured. "School is a place for learning and making friends JuJu. And to take art class and read stories and play on the playground. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Harry and Y/n had similar conversations with their son since they told him and Maeve they were going to school. For preschool, Y/n had taken on educating the twins, with Harry helping where he could. It was more manageable when they were quarantined, but now that life was returning to normal and the kids were getting older, there was only so much Y/n could manage on her own. Enrolling the kids in school seemed like the logical next step, and although some of them were excited by the new adventure, others were more apprehensive.

"Tell you what," Harry said when he realized selling the joys of school wasn't working on Julian. "When mum and I pick you and your sisters up today, we'll go get ice cream, how about that?"

"And we can feed the ducks too?" Jules asked, a hint of a smile appearing on his face.

Harry grinned. "Yep. We can go to the park and feed the ducks too. But you have to go to school first."

Julian's curls bounced on his forehead as he nodded. "Okay."

"Now dry your tears, bubbie. You're gonna have the best day ever," Harry said as he stood up.

"And you will dry your tears too, Daddy?"

Chuckling to himself, Harry wiped the corner of his eye. "Yes, JuJu. See? All gone."

Harry held his son's hand as they walked into the classroom together. Maeve was already inside, playing with a set of building blocks that were on a colorful carpet. From there, the transition was a little easier, though Harry shared a tearful goodbye with the twins when it was finally time for class to begin. He was the last parent to leave, and the teacher had to gently but firmly usher him out of the room so class could start. He stayed out in the hall for a few minutes, watching Julian to make sure he didn't burst into tears the second Harry left. Maeve was thankfully sat at the same table with two other children, and things seemed to be going well.

Before Julian noticed him in the hall, Harry left for the parking lot, wiping away the few tears that escaped yet again as he walked away from his babies. Y/n was in the car, Geneva and Natalia already in their car seats and ready for the drive home.

"How was it?" she asked.

"As expected. I had to cut a deal with Julian to get him to actually go into the classroom. Minimal tears."

"From you or from our son?"

Harry cut a glance at his wife, whose eyes were on the road in front of her as she drove away from the school. His heart clenched at the thought of leaving his children behind, but he tried not to show it. "Ha ha. Very funny."

"You were very brave," Y/n continued to tease.

Harry only hummed, glancing sidelong at his wife before saying, "Your mascara's running by the way."

"It is not."

"It is. You look like a raccoon. A very cute raccoon."

"Whatever," Y/n mumbled, subtly wiping beneath her eyes. Then, promptly changing the subject, she asked, "What did you have to promise Jules?"

"The usual. Ice cream and a trip to the park."

Y/n smiled. "Good. I was worried you were going to bribe him with a trip to his favorite candy store in New York."

"That was one time."

Y/n laughed as she turned into their neighborhood, her eyes softening as they slowly approached their empty house. It was definitely odd to only have two children with them at home, having gotten used to the usual chaos of wrangling seven children at once. Y/n and Harry had been reassuring each other for weeks that this was a good idea, promising themselves all the things they would get to do with a little more peace and quiet in the house.

When they got inside, Natalia in Harry's arms and GiGi on Y/n's hip, it was eerily quiet. No sounds of television shows, no arguing, no sounds of little feet running around. It was too quiet.

"You know, I forgot to pack the twins a snack this morning," Harry said suddenly. "They have a lunch and a snack time, don't they?"

"Yeah, but they can just—Oh. H, you're not serious."

Harry was in fact dead serious. "What will all their friends think if they have to eat a snack from their lunch box? It's inconceivable!"

Y/n leveled her husband with a look, making sure she knew his antics were a lot, even for him. Harry just stared back insistently, not willing to change his mind.

"You know you're crazy, right? Like this is crazy, even for you."

Ignoring her jab, Harry said to Geneva, "You want to go on another car ride?"

"Yeah!"

"Then it's settled. As soon as I put their snacks together, we'll go."

Y/n rolled her eyes at Harry, but couldn't deny wanting to see her kids one last time before they really had to be left alone so they could learn and adapt. Once they were back in the car and headed back to the school, Y/n rested her hand over her husband's.

"You know this can't be a thing, though, right?"

Harry shrugged, now behind the wheel. "We'll see. I'm a very forgetful person."

[venomous-qwille]

Hi Qwille!! I love your fic and was wondering how you manage to include so many languages in it. is there a way you study or do you just know that many? It's really impressive O.o

Ahh thanks, it actually takes a lot of research and I get quite anxious about mistakes as I'm not fully fluent in any of them. So far I have only included languages I have had an opportunity to learn in someway or another, but in the future I need to include Swedish and Portuguese (and a few others), which strike fear into my heart as I don't know them at all.

I am Welsh and lived in Wales most of my life, so I know quite a bit of Welsh through exposure, though it was never spoken in my home.

I lived in Paris for a while so I have a decent enough grasp of French by necessity. I would love to learn more (it's a beautiful beautiful language and I loved living in France), if I ever got the chance to move back there I'd do it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately I don't encounter French speakers irl very often, so I don't get much opportunity to practice.

Japanese, I studied at university before I got sick and dropped out. (I get the most anxious about writing the Japanese as I know enough to know I ultimately know veeery little, and some things simple don't translate culturally let alone linguistically.)

My current plan is actually to pay a translator to go through the misuta dialogue at the end of each act! I will probably have to do this with a few of the other languages too when they turn up. I know that seems extreme but having accurate depictions of languages and cultures is very important to me. Imo if you are going to write at length about someone from another culture, getting that stuff right is basic respect (to that culture, but also your own writing and characters too).

It really takes me out of a story when people get that stuff wrong about my home country/language, so I don't want to do that to other people.

Lil interesting factoid: Bubbie probably spends more time Ameripicking GITM to get rid of the Britishisms than they spend doing normal editing! Cricket is an American character and I want them to feel like an American character and respect that as much as any of the other cultures in GITM. As the main POV character, it would probably be very jarring if they used Britishisms! Also it's fucking insane how many differences there are between UK and US English!!

Hahaha I guess the only character I can write with complete authenticity is Fool :)