#alex is such a cutie patootie

[azwhore]

husband alex turner x wife reader

warnings: nun but fluff <3

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It’s been a while since you’ve last seen Alex. He’s been on tour for The Car for six months and have only seen him on a few occasions. You couldn’t go with him and the band due to work; you were forced to stay behind despite your attempts to go with them.

The last time you and Alex had seen each other was about two months ago. The only reason you were able to see him was for an interview he had in which you were invited to. He begged you to go with him even though you didn’t like doing so. Alex knows that. You’ve always hated being interviewed with him because it felt like the interviewers were trying to pry into your private relationship. What went on between Alex and you was for you two only, not for the public.

After a long day at work, you come home exhausted. You’re eager to shower, eat some dinner, and just relax. Who wouldn’t be? So when you get home, that’s exactly what you do. An “everything” shower was desperately needed after the week you’ve had.

Once done with your shower, you put on a comfy set of pajamas. A grey tank top and white sweats, perfect. You decide on some perfume, even though you won’t be around anyone for the rest of the night. You put on your Victoria’s Secret Bare roll-on perfume. It’s your favorite.

You finish getting dressed and make your way to the kitchen to make dinner. Deciding on what you’ve taken out, you make pollo guisado (chicken stew). It was one of your favorites. Mom always made it when you were younger.

After some time, you finish cooking and feast on it. Man, were you a damn good cook. One good meal later, you settle in your queen sized bed that you shared with Alex. You miss him. You miss his warm body cuddling. You miss his soothing voice.

You soon dwell no more on that, as you were almost on the brink of tears. You pick up your book that you were currently reading on the nightstand, How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents. So far, you are greatly enjoying the book. You like analyzing it as well as it being somewhat relatable.

***

It’s 11:18 PM, about an hour and a half since you started reading. You need to get some sleep since you have work all over again tomorrow. Luckily though, tomorrow is Friday. Wonderful.

You put your book back and settle in bed. You can feel sleepiness sinking you deeper and deeper. Reveling in the feeling, you eventually fall asleep.

Suddenly, you feel something envelop around you. You wake up, anxiety beginning to course through you. Just as you are about to panic, you hear a voice whisper in your ear.

“I’ve missed you, love.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It’s Alex.

Turning around, you take a good look at your husband whom you haven’t seen for two months. He greets you with a smile, his hair as messy as you remember.

“Alex!” You exclaim. You couldn’t express your excitement any other way than wrapping your arms around him. Tears begin to well at your eyes, threatening to fall. You try to hold them back with all your might so you could speak with him.

“I thought you wouldn’t be able to come back for a while? How come you’re here?” You ask, bringing him into another big hug. You can feel him smiling against you as he brings his arms around your body, squeezing you against him.

“One of the shows got postponed for two weeks from now so I immediately came here. I had to see you. If I had gone another day without you, I would have gone mad.” He explained. It felt so good to see him again.

“Ugh, I’ve missed you so much.” You say. Suddenly you realize he might be hungry so you ask, “Are you hungry? There’s still some leftovers from what I made earlier. I can heat it up for you.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m just glad to be here with my wife.” He smiles. You could never get tired of his smile.

“How’s the tour so far? It looks like you and the boys are having some fun.” You laugh. Even though you aren’t going on tour with them, you still keep up sometimes. Especially with those edits of him that fangirls make. You’re not complaining since your husband is a damn fine man if you say so yourself. They should tone it down just a bit, though (don’t actually alex turner is so fine).

“Yeah it’s been awesome. The places we’ve been to have been beautiful. I really wish you could come with us, love. That would just make it 100 times better.” Alex smiles once again.

“Me too. But you already know why I can’t. If I didn’t have work, I most definitely would.” You say. It’s not like Alex wouldn’t full on support you financially; he obviously would. You, on the other hand, don’t want that. The two of you even got into a big argument once about it. He doesn’t see a problem in financially stabilizing you, but you would rather work. You still want to have a life and work for yourself. You don’t want to be just a stay-at-home wife; it’s so stereotypical of celebrity relationships. You want to make a living for yourself, and Alex now 100% understands and supports that.

“Yeah, I get it. My dear wife is so strong.” He gives you a quick kiss with a smirk. You giggle at that. Alex always knows how to make you laugh.

Some time later, you lay with each other in a comfortable silence. This was almost the best part of your relationship. You two could just sit there with your eyes closed not saying a word and you both would understand each other.

Alex lays on his back, eyes closed with his left arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your head is resting against his chest while your hand is on his stomach gently tracing circles. Your eyes were closed too as he hummed to you.

“You know, I still have to go to work tomorrow.” You break the silence. Alex hums in response.

“Do you really though? I’m going to be stuck here by myself all day without you.” He says with a pout.

“Well, I probably could call out tomorrow. One day wouldn’t hurt, right?” You question. Now that you think about it, you haven’t called out from work in a while. You should get a day off. “Hm, I think I’ll stay here with my husband. I get to enjoy a whole three days with you.” You say kind of sarcastically. Although you were anything but sarcastic. You’re more than happy to spend the rest of his two week break with him, as was he.

The both of you continue to enjoy each other’s silence, sleep overcoming you once again. Your eyes feel heavy as they slowly fall. Eventually, you succumb to your slumber, your breath evening out. Alex follows soon after with you in his arms. He really hopes these two weeks last forever.

<><><>

[hatsbuckets]

Sunday Softies: Cuddle Edition!

My take on how cod mw (reboot) blorbos cuddle

*sighs, because ofc this didn't post when it was scheduled to.* also sorry not sorry but this one has all my fav little ships in it. I may do other characters next week. or a diff mix idk whatever I want oop

Price: Warm and solid, the kind of presence that makes the world feel smaller, quieter. He doesn’t pull someone in so much as he opens up—makes space, shifts just enough to let them settle against him. There’s no hesitation in the way his arm comes around a waist, the way his fingers smooth over a shoulder, slow and steady. He holds like a man who has carried weight before and never minded doing it again. His breathing deepens when he sleeps, chest rising and falling in a way that almost lulls, a slow rhythm that reassures. And in the morning, even before his eyes open, his hand lingers—fingertips brushing against skin, against fabric, as if to make sure no one has gone anywhere.

Gaz: Soft and instinctive, like he was made to be close. He doesn’t just hold—he pulls, tucks someone into his chest, arms wrapped easy and loose but always there. He’s the type to shift in sleep, to press closer without realizing, to run warm enough that the blankets are always kicked halfway off the bed. His hands move, even in the quiet, fingers brushing against the back of a neck, stroking slow lines over a forearm, just feeling. He sleeps deep, steady, and when he wakes, there’s always a slow, lazy hum, a sigh that sounds like contentment.

Ghost: A still sleeper, but when he holds, he holds tight. Not crushing, not overwhelming, just firm—a presence that doesn’t waver, that doesn’t let go. He doesn’t tangle himself up in anyone, doesn’t smother, but there’s a way his arm locks around a waist, a way his fingers stay even when he’s drifting. If it’s a rare, quiet night, he sleeps on his back, someone tucked against his side, an absentminded hand resting against the small of their back. Even in sleep, there’s purpose in the way he holds on, a silent kind of knowing. And if he wakes up before them, he doesn’t move—not yet. Just stays there, fingers tracing slow, idle shapes against skin. A certain mohawked sergeant is the exception. Soap gets everything. A full-body, limbs-entwined kind of hold, strong and certain, like he needs to know he’s there. And when Soap laughs and tries to wiggle free, Ghost only tightens his grip, murmurs a sleep-heavy “Stay, Johnny” like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Soap: A nester. Takes up space, spreads out, clings like it’s second nature. He’s all tangled limbs and absentminded shifts, burying his face into a shoulder, pressing against warmth like he’s charging up for the next day. If he starts as the big spoon, he always wakes up as the little one, pulled into whoever he’s with, grip slack but still there. His hands wander in sleep—not in any purposeful way, just in that mindless, familiar way, fingers splayed across ribs, an arm thrown over a stomach. He’s a soft weight, a solid, easy warmth, and once he’s got his spot, he’s not moving. Ghost is the only one who lets him get away with it. Let’s him burrow against his chest, let’s him tangle their legs together, let’s him press his freezing cold feet against his calves and only sighs about it. And in the morning, when Soap’s trying to sneak away? Ghost hooks an arm around his waist and pulls him back.

Farah: Light at first, distant in a way that’s habit, but there’s a slow softening when she lets herself relax. She doesn’t wrap herself around anyone, doesn’t cling, but she leans in—rests her forehead against a shoulder, tucks her fingers lightly beneath a sleeve, something gentle. When she sleeps, her grip is light, but her presence doesn’t fade. She’s there, quiet and steady, the kind of warmth that lingers even when morning comes. And when it’s Alex? Her fingers trace over his arm, absent and slow, mapping old scars with a touch so careful it’s almost reverent. He doesn’t say anything—just lets her. Just presses closer and smiles against her temple, quiet and warm and hers.

Alex: Loose, easy, like he was meant to do this. Never in a rush, never greedy, just comfortable. He sleeps on his back, an arm slung over someone’s shoulders, fingers trailing slow, lazy patterns against their skin until he drifts off. His breathing is deep, slow and even, the kind of thing that’s easy to match, easy to fall asleep to. He’s got weight to him, but it’s the good kind, the kind that makes everything feel safer. With Farah, he’s different. Softer still. Likes it when she tucks herself into his side, lets himself drift off with his nose buried in her hair, murmuring something inaudible against her skin. If she ever pulls away in sleep, his hand finds her again—thumb sweeping slow across her knuckles, something small.

Laswell: Intentional, never careless, never absent. She’s not one for tangled limbs, not the type to crush or smother, but there’s a firmness to her embrace, a weight in the way she stays. She sleeps still, rarely shifting, rarely moving, just there, just constant. The only real sign of softness is in the way her fingers curl, lightly brushing against a wrist, against fabric, like a silent reminder.

Her wife is the opposite—moves too much, tangles their legs together, shifts and sighs and clings in sleep. Kate never minds. Just hums, tugs her closer without waking fully, and settles again.

Alejandro: All warmth and certainty. He doesn’t just hold—he envelops, wraps arms around a waist, presses close enough that there’s not an inch of space between him and whoever’s lucky enough to be there. His grip is strong, not tight but assured, like he knows exactly what he has and doesn’t plan on letting go. He’s big, broad, but somehow never overbearing—just solid, just safe. He sleeps deep, heavy, and doesn’t stir unless someone does. Then? His fingers flex, grip adjusting, pressing closer like an instinct. And if it’s Rudy shifting beside him, he just huffs a sleepy laugh, hooks an arm around him, and murmurs, "Quédate aquí, cariño,"—stay here, love—voice low, thick with sleep. Rudy doesn’t argue. Never does.

Rudy: Soft in a way that’s not obvious at first. He holds in quiet ways, never forceful, never imposing, just there. The kind of warmth that sneaks up on you, the kind of steadiness that feels like something unshakable. He prefers holding, rather than being held—arms wrapped slow and sure, a hand smoothing over a back, breath steady against hair. He doesn’t move much in sleep, but his grip lingers, fingertips brushing against skin in a way that feels unconscious. And in the morning, when Alejandro tries to untangle himself, Rudy only hums—just a quiet, knowing sound—and tightens his grip right back.

Nikolai: Heavy, weighty, the kind of presence that settles around someone like a thick, warm coat. He’s not restless, not clingy, but he makes it clear that once he’s in a comfortable position, he’s not moving. If someone shifts, he makes a small noise in the back of his throat, barely awake, grip adjusting, resettling against them. A slow inhale, a deep exhale, and then stillness. With the captain, it’s different. He stays awake longer, shifts just slightly to make sure Price is comfortable, presses a slow, deliberate kiss to the back of his shoulder before letting himself relax. And in the morning, before either of them need to be awake, Price reaches back without opening his eyes, fingers curling around Nikolai’s wrist.

Graves: (Claims he's not a cuddler. Liar.) Holds like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. An arm slung over a waist, a hand resting just light enough not to be overbearing. He’s not dramatic about it, doesn’t pull or take, just rests against warmth and lets it happen. Likes to lie on top, face buried in a chest, held and holding. And in sleep? He locks down. His fingers curl tighter, his grip firms, something instinctual, something deep.

Roach: Tucks himself in naturally, curls against warmth with a kind of easy comfort. Light but present, the kind of sleeper that doesn’t smother but doesn’t let go either. He breathes slow and even, lets the weight of another person press against him without shifting away. If his fingers twitch in sleep, if they flex against fabric, it’s not conscious—it’s just the way his body remembers touch.

Valeria: Possessive, but not clingy. She doesn’t grab, doesn’t cling—she just presses close and expects someone to stay. One hand resting firm on a stomach, the other tucked beneath her head, fingers occasionally shifting like she’s checking. If she moves in sleep, she adjusts, keeps hold without gripping too tightly. And if someone pulls away, she notices.

Makarov: Still. A grip that doesn’t waver, doesn’t shift, fingers curled against fabric with a kind of eerie steadiness. There’s no desperation in it, no need—just something deliberate, something intentional. He doesn’t move much in sleep, doesn’t tangle, but his grip? It never really loosens.

[nicoscheer]

We’ve been blessed with an entire HOUR of interview

I’ll be honest I’ve frankly got no clue according to which criteria I’ve picked the moments, just somes I felt were nice, funny or interesting

3:44 his uncle, his dads brother had a pub called RAT AND PARROT (everything you’ve come to expect)

10:32 “I was wanking into oatmilk” you was doing what into what now ?! 🥛🫣

None of them being able to let the other finish their sentence is fucking hilarious 😂

19:56 “1994 I was 8 … or 10”; my mans you were born in 86 please tell me how you could have possibly been 10 years old fucking early onset dementia

20:20 “I’m a kinky fuck”

21:47 “I’m into therapy and psychology and how you deal with situations”

38:45 “he’ll be me bro till I die” (bout Alex)

49:45 “there was always a picture of Al Pacino on the friDge” (his voice just jumped three fuckin octaves there for a sec)

50:44 just the sound and face he made 🥹🥹

54:38 “whatever I’m feeling I’m doing”

55:01 IMMEDIATELY going for Penne al’arrabiata and then cottage pie as comfort food

55:17 just look at that endearing face

56:07 bit of this or that (Liverpool vs London)

58:02 YESS to him kissing both of them on the cheek

The post

Little goat headbutt

That darling 🥹🫠🫶🏽

[colourofthetrap08]

just found this photo and my heart melted all over again

[imagination-phantom]

Clean cup, clean up, move down!!!!

lol come on you know I had to.

Lick the image if it’s blurry!!!

LOL I JUST SAW THIS OH MY GOD I MEANT CLICK BUT CLICK OR LICK YOUR CHOICE!

Having dyslexia is a JOURNEY.

[rockingtheorange]

“Taylor, would you stop being so nice to him? Just for one day, for the love of God, can you just be mean to him?” - Matthew López

(Sorry for the low quality of the audio, it's from an old podcast interview, that's the best I could do)

Cr for finding the podcast to rwrb.poland

You can listen here -> 🤴 (timing 31:10)

[luv-firstprince]

I see no difference between these two

[deanityy]

hi tumbly i've come with a gift

[sk8rambler]

happy birthday da :3

[forzalvr]

i love how everyone plays along w the 'yuki is short af' joke 😭😭 [not mine!!]

[feketeribizli]

if i speak

[purerae]

hihi!! Ive made those ‘my ship in five minutes’ templates for all my characters so you guys can fill them out or get to know them better :p

i’d love it if you guys do it and either send me it through my inbox or messages !! I wanna see your self inserts/personalities with my characters.

(You guys don’t need to add an portrait or anything , you can leave that blank if you want!)

[for-the-evulz]

had to share this here too

[fairylando]

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

[khvlani]

calex scenario !!!

casey and alex often spend their free time in the living room, alex with a book in hand and casey focused on a softball game.

from time to time, alex would glimpse at the game casey is watching, despite having very little knowledge about softball, alex makes sure she knows whether or not the team casey is rooting for is winning, simply by looking at the scores.

one time, alex decided to sit in with casey who is watching a tight match. she didn’t think much of it and even decided to place her feet on top of alex’s lap, asking for a massage in which casey—still focused on the game, not really paying clear attention to what alex is requesting— agreed to.

alex didnt put much thought into it as well since the redhead did her request without hesitation. she continued reading her book and did her usual routine of checking the scores every now and then.

“tight match, huh” alex says looking the tv then towards casey. eyes still stuck on the tv, casey nodded. “my team’s winning though, so not a big deal” she replies.

alex went on with her book, fixing her glasses, and moving forward towards casey. at this point half of her lower body is past the redhead’s lap—her thigh being on top of it.

as the game grows more intense, casey began rubbing the blonde’s thigh to rub off her stress. just as the team completes its final run, finally winning, casey gets a little over excited, standing up as she celebrates the win of her favorite team unaware that the blonde has fallen off the sofa.

“fuck yeah!”

“what the fuck!”

they both say in unison.

casey looks over to her girlfriend to share her excitement only to find her on the floor, ass facing the ceiling.“congrats, babe” alex states in an annoyed manner, pissed that she fell off the couch and lost her page on the book, but still happy for her girlfriend.

“sorry” casey chuckled, helping the blonde settle back into the couch. “that hurt,” alex pouts. a smile forms on casey’s face as she proceeds to kiss the blonde’s temple. “i’m sorry, baby,” she sits next to alex, resting her arm over her shoulder, “i promise i’ll make it up to you” she smiles.

“make me my favorite dinner” alex says pouting once again. “all you had to do was ask, my girl” casey says placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

[korok-artz]

Husband and Wife 💞