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scorsesedepalmafan · 2 years

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“Warm Home”

Bob Aldrich x gender neutral!reader

Comfort fic request

Requested by @antifiction

Notes; cuddling, kissing, comfort, support, married couple, fluff.

Summary: After a stressful day on set, you (y/n) are there to support Bob and lend him an ear.

Words: 771

You had the whole table set ready for Bob and you as you were expecting him back from set, when you heard the sound of Bob coming into the house with his keys.

“Hi, honey!” You heard him call out from the hallway, as he hung his grey long-coat at the entrance. His tired steps made loud sounds in the hallway as he approached the area which you were in.

“Hi, you big hunk...” you said very enthusiastically, placing the last plate on the table.

“Another day down the shitter.” he let out as he was undoing his black tie.

His face lit up as he noticed the entire table which you had set up, and he sighed, closing his eyes.

“Oh honey, you didn’t need to do this...You know my job is tough no matter what.” He came close to you to leave a peck on your cheek, and placed one hand on your hip.

You smiled back at him and gently grabbed a hold of his face to leave a kiss near his lips. Bob couldn’t help but blush a bit. He then placed a sweet kiss on your neck and then headed over to sit down.

“How was the day today?” you asked, pouring a bit of wine in both of your glasses.

“Work was hell”. Bob expressed. You could hear the hint of frustration in his voice. “Just the same old cat and mouse game between Joan and Bette -” He grumbled. “- And not to mention Jack.”

“Did Jack say something to you?” you asked him.

Bob roamed his head around as he stated his answer. “It’s not really what he said… more like how he said it…-” He looked up to you as if disappointed.

“- He wants me to stir up some drama. … Make Joan and Bette be at each other’s throats…” He looked at you shamefully. “Problem is, I don’t wanna do that. I just wanna carry a proper set, make something of value… a good picture.” He said. A good horror picture at that.” He added, wagging his finger. “ - You know what I mean, honey?” he posed to you. Of course he’d understand if you couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Of course I know what you mean.” you told him. Bob leaned towards you, gladly listening to your every word.

“And it’s going to be a spectacular picture, I’m sure of it, Bob. You just need to waltz with these people. They’re just a means to your vision.-” You tried to find the best way to put it to him. “Be the director that you want to be, not the one they want you to be.” You squeezed Bob’s hand tight and looked him in the eyes, adoringly.

Bob gazed at you, feeling deeply validated by your very meaningful words. “Thank you, honey -” he said coarsely. “- That’s just what I needed to hear.”.

Bob placed the large napkin onto the collar of his white shirt like a bib and began to dig into the meal carefully. He quickly expressed awe and delight with a muffled and wheezy laugh. In between he said to you: “Christ! Sweetie! When’d you learn to cook like this?”. He coughed a bit with his food. “-Mmh, I’m sorry.” He’d spoken with his mouth a bit full, out of excitement.

You looked at him flirtatiously, lifting up your glass as to take a sip from your wine. “Well what do you think I do all day?”. Your answer made the two of you laugh quite hysterically.

—--

After the two of you had put away the dishes and gotten into your pyjamas, you both quickly got tucked into bed, ready to cuddle and hold each other lovingly like you typically did. Bob always put his hand on your shoulder, circling his thumb softly as he got nuzzled up closer to you. So the two of you had naturally settled into this position already, as Bob was holding you tenderly. “My strudel” he said to you, gently placing his lips on yours, for a tender kiss.

“You know what I think your picture is going to be, hm, Bob?” you said, as you nuzzled into his neck and into your guys’ spoon. You felt his warm skin and the soft silk of his top.

“What’s that, honey?” he replied in a lovesome manner.

“I think your movie’s going to be the best horror picture ever made”. You answered. The only thing Bob gave you as a reply was simply drowning you with more kisses, and you gave into it without hesitation or qualm.

---

Tagging: @alfredosauceee , @darknymite , @doctor-octiddius , @illiana-mystery , @space-pirate-alex , @neriuml , @arktishval , @rossieash , @randomfandomtrash28 , @bi-octavius , @faemorningstar , @yesalwayswelles , @bones-ego , @freddiefredfive , @ottolover101 and @heythereimashley .

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my writings! Attentively, B.

#bob aldrich x reader #bob aldrich #alfred molina #feud #feud (series)#feud fx #robert aldrich #bob from feud #gender neutral reader #alfred molina fanfic #orange #scorsesedepalmafan writes #*please I just want Bob to have a marriage like this #*also reclaiming the word hunk for men with beautiful dad bods

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deeps89 · 3 months

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Notes on love

To love is to surrender. accept the love we receive,honor the love we give,seek the love we find.When you surrender, you acknowledgelove could come from anywherefrom anyoneat anytime.surrenderto the power and audacity of loveso it can nourish youin ways you couldn’t possibly preempt. To love is to be vulnerable. to bare your thoughtsyour feelings, insecurities, dirt, filth,demons, (unfiltered)…

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#love #poetry

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hahahahahangst · 1 year

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Another love (Be The Young 22)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, SELF H*RM, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N: As I said last time, I’m sorry... This- this is just sad tbh

MASTERLIST

Another Love

So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude Words they always win, but I know I'll lose“

Howdy, Emily.” Said the demon’s voice from behind her as she arrived at the agreed destination. “You should probably learn to drive less recklessly. Almost caused a couple of crashes back there.”

“Right. Let’s get to business.”

“Alright, alright… fifty miles that way,“ he pointed. ”...I need you to open something for me.” He dipped his hand into a pocket and took out the Colt from it. Emily instinctively reached for it, but he retracted his hand. “Now, now, don’t be hasty.” He said. “This is the key for the crypt.” He handed the gun to her. She looked at him, suspicious and put it away in her pants.

She started driving in the direction the demon gave her. She didn't bother asking for any explanation, she just drove there. Then, she put the gun into the crypt and waited.

At first, some glyphs lit up and started spinning. Then, the door actually started opening. All of a sudden, she was overwhelmed by a sea of black smoke, which knocked her over. She felt the pain of the ground hitting her head and then passed out.

When she woke up, she saw a familiar figure towering her. Bobby was bringing her somewhere. She briefly passed out again and found herself in the backseat of a car. “Emily, can you hear me?” Said Bobby's voice. She moaned, in pain, as a response. The car soon came to a stop. Ellen, helped her out of the vehicle. She recognized Bobby's lot.

“Bobby, I-”

“Are you okay?” He said, checking her for wounds. “Hurt?”

“No, Bobby I am fine, please-” She got out of Ellen's hold and leaned on the car. “I can't be next to Dean right now.”

“What the hell happened this time, uh?”

“He was about to-” She was distracted by the door of the house suddenly opening. Dean stood on the porch with his arms crossed in front of him. A sudden urge to vomit reached her guts. She covered her mouth and turned away.

“What on earth happened?!” Asked Bobby. Emily gagged and threw up in a corner of the lot. “Okay, that’s it, come inside.” The man tried to help Emily towards the door but she tried to move away. Her legs gave up on her and she fell. Quickly coming back up, she stopped anybody from helping her and leaned on the car. “I said no.”

“Alright, you wanna do this here?” Said Bobby, crossing his arms as well. “Fine by me. What on earth were you thinking?!”

“Oh, perfect, now it’s my fault.” Answered Emily, brushing her face with her right hand and trying to ignore Dean staring at her from the door.

“So was it someone else that I just saw opening the gates to fucking hell? Emily I am old, not stupid. What the hell were you thinking?”

Emily ignored the question. She looked at Dean. He was the reason she did all that.

She just opened the gates of hell all because of someone who didn’t even consider her family. “What the hell are you looking at?!” She asked him, bitterly. “This is all your fault, you realize that?!” He didn’t move. Bobby turned around to look at him. He gazed in between the two siblings.

“Okay, enough with this shit!” Said him, suddenly grabbing Emily by her arm and dragging her in front of her brother. “This has been going on for three years, I’ve had it up to my hair with you two idiots. Now get inside!”

Neither of them moved. They limited themselves to staring at each other, upset and ready to explode. “I said get inside!” Yelled the man, pushing them both through the door. “Start - talking. What the hell happened?!”

“He’s an asshole, that’s what happened!” Said Emily, pushing Dean away from her. “An unaffectionate, egoistic bastard!” Bobby immediately stopped her and divided the two siblings.

“For the love of god, stop hitting your brother! Be a fucking adult for three whole seconds!”

“Me?!” Emily looked at the man, her eyes widening in anger.

“Yes, you!” He said, grabbing her by the arm again and having her sit on the couch. He did the same with Dean.

They sat on the opposite sides and accurately avoided looking at each other.

“GROW UP, BOTH OF YOU!” Screamed Bobby, startling Emily way too much. “I’ve had enough of your fights, this has gone too far! You are going to find a way to get along and you are going to do it now!”

Then, he leaned on the wall in front of them and stopped talking. He stared at them. He gestured “go ahead.” with his hands. Soon, Ellen appeared through the door and she joined him as well. They would occasionally talk to each other, whispering a couple of words, but for the most part, the room was completely silent.

Emily didn’t want to be there. She would have given anything to just be somewhere else.

She still had to hear from the demon about bringing Sam back, which was the whole reason she had followed his orders.

She had nothing to lose.

Even if Sam came back, she would probably still be leaving the Winchesters, since it had become as clear as day that Dean didn’t want her there.

But what would she do? She knew she had to leave, but she wasn’t sure what she would do or if she really wanted to, for that matter.

She looked at Dean briefly and recognized that he had been crying. However, she was too hurt, too full of pride and decided that it wasn’t her fault. He could have been a decent brother.

He could not have been mean to her all those times.

He could have shown some kind of interest for her even if she was not about to die.

He never did.

Never once in the previous three years. It was always out of pity, out of the urgency of getting rid of the broken member of the family, the one that slowed them down.

She let a sob slip out and saw Dean roll his eyes. “What?!” She said, sharp. “I’m not allowed to cry now?”

“Do you ever do anything else?” He asked, aggressive. “Apart from screwing up I mean.” Emily immediately stood up, ready to throw her brother on the floor, but she was interrupted by Bobby’s voice.

“EMILY, SIT THE FUCK DOWN!”

“What, am I supposed to let him say whatever he wants to me?”

“How is breaking his nose going to make this any better?” He said. “One of you is gonna have to decide to be the bigger person at one point!”

Sam would have said to her that she should be the bigger person. One of them had to. Just be the same person you were when you baked pies for him, he would have said. Or when you brought him to your old house in Portland.

But Sam was dead and with him any persistence of what he would say to her.

silence

“What would your brother say?” Suddenly said Bobby, still staring at them. “Uh? What would Sam say if he was here right now?”

Dean and Emily shared a quick look before going back to staring at an indefinite point in front of them. They knew exactly what he would say. But saying it would have required them to let their guard down. It would have required admitting that they didn’t hate each other as they were pretending to.

silence

Ellen leaned in to whisper something to Bobby. He nodded. “I will be back in a second. For your own good you better be still there when I come back.”

He left the room with Ellen.

Emily quickly gazed at Dean. He quickly dried his face with the back of his hand.

Emily sniffed. For a while, that was the only sound in the room.

“Do you hate me?” She said, barely audible.

“No. No, I don’t think I do.”

“You don’t think?”

“Okay, Emily, Sam is dead, and it’s also your fault. And if that wasn't enough, you opened the fucking gates of hell. Think is the best I can give you.”

Emily released a long sigh and turned away from them. She tucked her legs on the couch and rested her head on her knees. “You really can’t see it, can you?” She said. “I also lost a brother. Again.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Sure, yeah.” She said, sarcastic. “I never do. After all, I am just a kid, right?”

“Right.”

silence

Be the bigger person.

That’s what Sam would have said. He would have told her to just say sorry, to be open.

To be vulnerable.

Although, she looked at Dean and she found herself locked into a mask of strength and stubbornness. Inside the mask, she was breaking into pieces. More than she was already broken. She was close to not having nothing left but her mask.

“Did you really try to save him?” He asked, all of a sudden.

“You know I did.”

“Are you sure?”

“He was stabbed in the spinal cord, there wasn’t much I could do.”

“So you didn’t even try?!”

“Holy fucking christ- YES, I TRIED! I TRIED FOR A WHOLE HOUR BEFORE YOU SHOWED UP!”

“But you-”

“THERE IS NO BUT! STOP TRYING TO FIGHT WITH ME!” She stood up and kicked the table in front of her, making it fall to the ground. The shards of a beer bottle which was resting on it covered the floor in front of the couch and a strong scent of beer spread. She walked to the window and, just like the previous time, leaned on the cold glass. She stayed there for a while, in silence, letting the low temperature calm her down. “It’s not gonna bring him back. And I can’t take it anymore. Please, just-” She turned around. “Just stop.”

He looked at her and nodded. Bobby came back at that exact moment. He stared at Emily, then at the table. Then at Dean.

“Can you go 5 minutes without kicking anything?” He put the table back into a standing position. “Sit back down.” She sighed and reluctantly sat back on the couch. “So, I am not your marriage counselor and it’s been an hour. Are you going to talk or what?!”

Dean and Emily gazed at each other for a second, then looked away.

“I swear to god-” whispered Bobby. “Emily, don’t you have anything to say to your brother? You’re only alive because he killed the damn thing just in time!”

Emily jumped on her feet. “You did…WHAT?!” Bobby tried to drag her down, but she escaped his grip to walk in front of Dean. “The whole reason I did what I did was that he was gonna bring back Sam and you…“

“And you really believed him? You really are more stupid then it looks.”

“I was trying to-”

“What?” Dean stood up as well. Bobby tried to intervene, but Emily had other plans. “I am sorry, Bobby, I really am.” She raised a hand and had his body fly away towards the wall, stopping a couple of feet before he actually hit it. He tried to protest, but Emily ignored him.

“Let him go.” Said Dean, stern.

“Right, so you can avoid this conversation a little bit longer?” She said, still holding the man up in the air.

“What on earth were you thinking, trusting a demon like that?!”

“You were going to kill yourself!” She pushed him.

“So you decided to die first so you didn’t have to watch me?!”

She raised a hand to slap him, but he was faster and intercepted her arm. The moment she had to resist Dean’s strength, Bobby fell to the ground. “I WAS TRYING TO SAVE YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS!” She screamed back.

“AND YOU COULDN'T FIGURE OUT A WAY THAT DIDN’T INVOLVE RISKING YOUR LIFE?”

“COULDN’T YOU?!” He tried to speak, but Emily interrupted him. “I WAS LITERALLY ABOUT TO KILL MYSELF WHEN THE DEMON CAME TO ME!” Dean raised his hand to slap her but she stopped him just like he did with hers. They stared at each other, blocking each other’s arms. “Doesn’t feel good, does it?” She said, fighting him with all her strength. “When your sibling talks about offing themselves.” She slowly stopped fighting him and she dropped her arms by her side. “All these years, I was wondering why it was so difficult for you to just behave like a brother with me. Sam had his ideas but now I think I see it. He was wrong. None of that shrink shit was real, it was all made up. You’re not afraid to get attached, you are just an asshole.” Bobby, who had managed to stand back up, gave up on civility. He stared at them from where Emily had thrown him.

“You’re one to talk.” Answered Dean. “You never lost a chance to remind me how bad I was doing at being your brother, even if I was trying my best!”

“YOU CALLED ME A BITCH AND TOLD ME THAT IF I WANTED TO DIE SO BADLY I SHOULD HAVE CUT MYSELF VERTICALLY, IS THAT YOUR DEFINITION OF TRYING YOUR BEST?!”

“You’ve been hiding shit from me from the very first day!”

“HOW DOES THAT COMPARE WITH YOU FORCING ME OFF THE GROUND WHILE I WAS HAVING A LITERAL MENTAL BREAKDOWN AND COULD BARELY BREATHE?”

“YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

“I BROKE YOUR NOSE BECAUSE YOU AND DAD STRESSED ME SO MUCH MY BRAIN SNAPPED IN HALF LIKE A BREADSTICK!”

Everytime they said something they would push the other away.

“I CLEANED YOU AND DRESSED YOU LIKE A FUCKING BABY!”

“I SPENT THE FUCKING NIGHT HOLDING YOUR UNGRATEFUL HAND WHILE YOU WERE DYING!” Emily gave Dean one final push. She tried to attack him again but he stopped both her hands. Frustrated and unable to move, she tried to set herself free and started crying again. Soon, her legs started shaking and they gave up on her. She leaned onto Dean’s chest as he was still holding her up by the wrists. “I just want you to be my brother, that’s all.” She said in between sobs. Breathing was becoming more difficult each second, her extremities going more and more numb as time went on. Dean let go of her arms, but she immediately reached for his wrist and held onto it, her nails digging into his skin like it was butter. With a grimace of pain, he tried to get rid of her hold, but she only made it tighter. She felt as if everything was collapsing under her feet and that wrist was the only thing to keep her alive. Her crying became less and less intense as she lost the ability to breathe, her body completely overwhelmed by a panic attack.

“Alright…“ he said, struggling to keep her standing. With the only available hand, he put her head on his chest and unexpectedly hugged her. “It’s okay. It’s over now.” He repeated. “You’re right, this is not good.” She finally let go of his wrist. He put his hand on the back of Emily’s head. “We’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

#tw #selfharm #tw selfharm #please read the tws #be the young #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural angst #supernatural sister fic #spn #spn fanfic #ao3 #supernatural a03 fanfict #sister fic

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fogwatersalt · 2 years

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also while im chatty i want to mention i would loveso much to interact with everyone ever and talk like all casual and cool and in the making friends way, unfortunately*ear swivels as i hear a sound in the distance and i get really scared and irun into my burrow forever

#its my bad. id say like im always here come talk to me:3 im too shy #i think anyone who follows me is a very nice person and is cool if thats anything

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adapembroke · 2 years

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Building an Astrology Practice You Love

A friend of mine asked a really great question about my astrology practice. I am on lots of different platforms. I am on Instagram. I have a blog. I have a Patreon. I have a membership program where I offer classes. She wanted to know, when I have something to say, how do I decide where to say it? This is a question that dogged me for a long time. I would be inspired, and I would agonize about where to post it to the point that the inspiration evaporated, and I was left with nothing. When I was thinking about how to answer her question, I realized that I no longer agonized about where to post, and I couldn't remember when that happened. I was just able to create with confidence. I thought for a while about why that was. I came to the conclusion that the change had very little to do with building systems or creating rules for myself and my practice. It had everything to do with a larger change in mindset about how I see my practice and its place in my life.

The Importance of Asking the Right Questions

Last year, I took a class with the marvelous Susannah Conway. Her main gig is teaching. She offers online classes about journaling, tarot, and working with your inner child. But she also offers a class where she gives a behind the scenes tour of her business. That business class changed my life. Until I took Susannah's class, I thought building a business (which is what an astrology practice is, even if we don't like to think of it that way) was about following a bunch of rules. Not just tax rules and legal rules. Those aren't negotiable. But rules about how things "should be done," rules about how I should live. Through taking Susannah's class I realized that if I was going to build a business that made me miserable, I should just get a job at a big office building. At least then my employer might cover my health insurance. If I am going to take the risk of working for myself and weather the ups and downs of an irregular income and having to deal with insurance and saving for old age by myself, I should be building a practice that actually makes me happy. This realization lead to a massive shift in mindset. Before, I asked myself questions like: what is the most effective strategy for getting astrology reading clients? Then I would look at the strategies and ask myself if I considered them to be ethical and authentic for me. Now, I ask myself what kind of life I want to live and how I want to share my time and expertise with my people. Then I ask about the most effective way to create what I want to build. I'm still asking the same questions, but the order in which I ask them is the difference between feeling empowered and feeling trapped and anxious.

The Astrology Practice I Love

So, specifically, what does that mean for me and my practice? What is the life I want, and how am I trying to build it? I like to have the flexibility to follow my curiosity. I get bored when I have to do the same thing every single day. Knowing this, I prioritize projects that give me the opportunity to explore things I'm interested in. On Patreon, I've committed to building a library of astrology lectures, but I don't make promises about what, exactly, the lectures will be about. This gives me the space to explore while creating enough structure that people know what to expect and can follow what I'm doing. Being unpredictable isn't always possible. When I am working on a platform (like Instagram or Patreon) that requires regular updates, I schedule things in advance, so I can have a regular release schedule without having to work in a regular and predictable way. When I have a commitment that requires me to personally be at a certain place at a certain time, I make sure that it's worth the sacrifice of flexibility. Partly, it's about making sure that I'm getting paid, but it's just as important that the commitment meet a need of mine in some way. I am an extrovert, so I have made sure that my most inflexible commitments allow me to work with people. The creative, content-creation side of my practice is almost entirely solitary. I need social interaction enough that I am excited attending pre-scheduled appointments. I like people, but I love going deep and building relationships. Few things excite me more than seeing a message or an appointment request from someone I know. To encourage my practice to lean in the direction of interaction with familiar faces, I have created massive incentives for people who want to work with me on a regular basis. People who join my membership program have access to my Discord community and the opportunity to talk with me in text chat almost every day. With their 50% off discounts, astrology readings are more accessible for them, too.

For regular clients who aren’t interested in a subscription, I offer discounts for buying a bunch of readings up front. Making sure that my work is either flexible and exploratory or structured and social means that I am getting an essential need met through my astrology practice all the time. Getting those needs met gives me energy, even if I'm not meeting all of my needs all the time.

Your Mileage May Vary

It's likely that at least some of the people who read this will think the astrology practice I described sounds like their perfect hell. To me, it's heaven. It fits like the perfect pair of jeans. A lot of people would see this as a problem because there are no clear instructions, no 5-step plan to follow, no advice that will work for everybody. Me, I think it's wonderful. One of the things that makes astrology special is the way that it truly celebrates human differences. We can honor the humanity of others without pretending that we're all the same under the skin. I can recognize the experience of a person with four planets in Pisces without feeling like I need to live like they do when I have a chart with no planets in Pisces. You can build a practice that sounds like my perfect hell, and you can find clients who love the way you work. I can work in a different way that might not work with them so much. This difference style allows us to work side-by-side in the same industry without feeling like we're competing with each other because, at the end of the day, our way of being in the world is as different as Jupiter and Saturn.

#10th house

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