#is it just because I’m listening to it in my feels about this?

[8363mtr]

Right now, I’m watching a YouTube video about someone quitting Spotify and how they’ve changed their music habits, mainly this one:

Idk if I’m going to completely getting rid of Spotify (for a couple of reasons), but what I do plan on doing in the future is using the service for whenever I want to preview and test out for new music, and if I like it enough, then place them in my playlists and essentially just buy the tracks of either iTunes, Beatport, or Bandcamp so that I can place them on my iPod. That way, I have my own music selection that I own, and if someone wants to know what my song choices are like, then I can just link my Spotify playlists.

I also did end up buying a CD player because my mom has a large collection of CD’s, and she occasionally does buy some more CD’s from time to time, so I might end up using that for when I want to listen to music at the night before bed.

Essentially, I’m getting a bit tired of Spotify atm, and I feel like I wanna slowly but surely wanna get back to physical media.

…

And I’m also having dinner.

Quick what are you doing RIGHT now (besides scrolling Tumblr)

[inlovewithpandora]

ᥫ᭡ — Just a Pogue

Artists — Rafe Cameron x fem!pogue!reader

Lyrics — Hearing Rafe belittle you to his friends and down play the bond you share leads you to your breaking point.

Music Advisory — Oneshot; all angst, hurt w/ no comfort, slight cursing, based heavily on scene(s) from season four

Duration — 1.7k

Words from Artist — This was a quick and fun fic to write for Rafe! It’s been a while since I wrote an angsty fic so I’m glad to have my toes in the water again, especially for Rafe because he pairs so good with angst! If you have any requests you want to see with Rafe please feel free to send them to my ask box! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — main m.list・obx taglist・navigation

When Rafe sent you a text to meet him at the Country Club you were excited, hoping that since he’s asking you to come hang out with him and his friends that he’s finally ready to acknowledge what’s happening between you two. Your relationship has been without a label for a while now, sharing moments that are intimate, intense, and real, making you feel like there’s a true connection with Rafe and that he’ll be officially asking you to be his girlfriend soon.

As you walk from the patio to the inside of the club you see Rafe, Topper, and his girlfriend Ruthie. When you’re about to approach, you pause when you hear your name brought up in their conversation, making curiosity strike you and wonder what they're talking about so you move out of their line of sight but stay close enough so you can hear. “I’m surprised y/n’s your girlfriend.” Ruthie twirls the straw in her drink while looking over at Topper with a slight smirk on her face, purposefully testing the waters to see how Rafe will react. “I mean she’s pretty pogue, isn’t she?”

Rafe scoffs and rolls his eyes as if he finds this whole topic exhausting to talk about. “Listen,” he says with a blank face while shrugging his shoulders and lifting his glass closer to his lips, “just because we hook up doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend, okay?” He mutters out before glancing around and taking a sip of his drink, clearly uncomfortable with the spotlight on his relationship with you— if you would even call it that. Mentioning your social class and insinuating that you’re his girlfriend makes Rafe feel insecure, especially since in the past he’s always expressed his strong dislike for pogues.

“Right… I’m just saying you sure are together a lot. Wait, has she moved in yet?”

“I’m not living with a pogue, I have standards.” Rafe felt the need to defend himself against this line of questioning and make it known that you’re strictly just a hookup for him, that there isn’t any type of love in his heart for you because you’re a pogue and he just can’t be with someone who’s living in the cut.

The sting of Rafe’s words hits you like a punch in the gut, unraveling every bit of hope you’d been holding onto. You feel knots in your stomach, your heart pounding as you back away, each cruel word echoing in your mind. To him, you’re just a fling—a fun thing he can call up whenever he wants, never someone he’d actually take seriously. All those moments, those stolen kisses and soft words you’d shared, they’d only been games to him. You thought that Rafe finally changed, that his views weren’t so surface level when it came to being a kook or a pogue but it’s clear that he only made you believe those things so he could get in your pants.

You turn and walk back toward your car, your mind reeling as you begin to feel stupid for allowing Rafe into your heart, trusting him with your body, only to find out he never truly cared about you as he claimed. You feel like you were lied to, knowing he feed you with words he knows you wanted to hear and would cling to just so he can get what he wanted out of you.

Over the next few days, Rafe tries to reach out to you, sending you numerous texts and calling your phone more times that you can count, causing each attempt to reignite the anger and pain you feel. He doesn’t know that you overheard his conversation with Ruthie and Topper, but you still ignore all his attempts to get in contact with you and you eventually block him, wanting him out of your life after what hearing what he said.

While you're home trying to take your mind off the whole situation you hear someone banging on your door, making you roll your eyes because whoever it is can’t be that determined to talk to you. When you open the door you see Rafe standing outside, looking at you with a look of confusion and underlying frustration. He doesn’t enjoy being ignored and he doesn’t understand why you’re being weird to him all of a sudden so he decided to pop up at your house and confront you. “Why the hell have you been ghosting me?”

You shake your head, trying to hold back the anger that flares inside you just from the sight of him. “Rafe, please leave me alone, okay? I blocked you for a reason, I don’t wanna talk to you.”

You try to shut the door, not wanting to continue a conversation with him but Rafe’s hand shoots out, stopping it from closing because he wants a more in depth explanation on why you’ve been ignoring him instead of the ‘half-assed’ one you just gave. He stares at you with narrowed eyes, clearly not used to being brushed off by you because since you started talking their hasn’t been a day where you deliberately ignored him. “What’s goin’ on with you? Did I do something?”

A bitter laugh leaves your lips before you allow the anger you feel to rise to the surface and let Rafe know exactly why you’ve been ignoring him. “Yeah, you did. Maybe it has something to do with you telling your friends I’m just a ‘hookup’ and that you’d never live with a pogue since you have so called ‘standards’.”

He blinks feeling thrown off, not seeing the connection in the meaning of your words and where they stem from. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“I heard you at the club, Rafe!” You snap at him, the hurt you’ve been feeling over the past few days spilling over. “I heard you tell them that I’m just some Pogue you’re hooking up with, that I’m not your girlfriend, and that you’d never actually be with someone like me. Like I’m nothing!”

Rafe opens his mouth, struggling to find the right words, but you’re not interested in hearing whatever excuse he’s about to make because you know it’ll just be a lie. “I thought you were different, Rafe. I thought you actually saw me as more than that. But you just needed me to feel good about yourself for a while, right? You just liked having me around when you wanted a good fuck.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he protests, his voice pleading now. “I was just trying to… I don’t know, keep them off my back. They wouldn’t get it.”

You scoff while pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling a fresh wave of aggravation as you realize he really doesn’t get it. “And that’s the problem, Rafe. If you can’t respect me around your friends—if you’re embarrassed of what we have—then you never actually cared.”

He reaches out, trying to grab your hand, but you pull back and take a step away, not wanting to feel his touch after knowing his true feelings about you. “You made me feel like we had something,” you whisper, feeling the sting of tears but refusing to let them fall in front of him. “That we could be an actual couple but you played in my face, Rafe. You told me that you didn’t care that I was a pogue, that you wanted me with you but clearly it was bullshit.”

Rafe’s face shifts from guilt to desperation as he steps closer, his voice softening as he tries to clean up the mess he’s made. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was an fuckin’ idiot, and I shouldn’t have said that. I thought if I downplayed it, I could keep my friends from giving me shit about us.”

“So, you downplay me? Make me sound like I’m nothing to you just to avoid a little judgment? Do you fuckin’ hear yourself, Rafe? You didn’t just protect yourself—you tore me down in front of your friends.”

He looks away, clearly frustrated that his stupid words messed up things between the two of you but he pushes on, wanting to try and make things right. “I get it, okay? I messed up, but it doesn’t change how I feel. It’s just… complicated. You know I care about you.”

You scoff, feeling the weight of his words crushing you all over again. “Complicated? No, Rafe. It’s not complicated—it’s simple. You don’t respect me and you don’t care about me. You never did. And now you want to apologize and act like it’ll erase what you said and make everything better?” Rafe’s face twists with guilt, but his silence only fuels your anger. Every hurtful word he spoke replays in your mind, solidifying your resolve. “Too late, Rafe. You’ve already ruined it.”

He can tell that he’s losing you, that you’re emotionally pulling away from him so he starts pleading with you, not wanting to lose you. “I didn’t mean it. I’ll fix it. Just give me another chance—please.”

“No. You can’t fix it. It’s already done. You’ve made it clear who you are and how you feel about me. I’m not sticking around for whatever mess you’ve got going on in your head just so you can fuck me over again.”

His face falls, his frustration turning into panic. “Please, just let me explain—”

“I don’t want to hear anymore, Rafe.” You feel a finality in your mind and a final piece of your heart closing off, deciding not to fall into the trap of Rafe’s words again, knowing that if you do you’ll only hurt your future self when he fucks up again. “I’m not waiting around for you to figure your shit out. I’m done.”

When Rafe is face to face with the door he stands in place frozen, while his heart is hammering inside his chest. The sharp echo of the door slamming reverberates in his ears, a bitter reminder of how badly he’s screwed things up. For a moment, he’s too stunned to move, his mind reeling from the weight of your words and the way you just ended what you had with him.

A deep frustration churns inside him, mingled with guilt and regret. He never thought it would get to this point. He didn’t expect you to shut him out so completely. He knows that he hurt you, but hearing the door slam was like a slap to the face, a loud confirmation that he had lost you. Rafe knows, deep down, that he’s crossed a line he can’t uncross, that it’ll be hard for you to forgive him when the things he said were so harsh.

The realization that his actions have pushed you too far away hits him hard. His chest tightens as the panic sets in, his mind racing with how to fix things, ways of how to make you forgive him, but nothing comes to him. The words “I’m sorry” feel hollow, like a cheap way out. He’s played this game before, but now it feels different. You’re different.

He steps back slowly and walks to his car with his head hanging down, looking back at the door with a mixture of frustration and sorrow. He never meant to hurt you, to make you feel less than but the damage is already done. And now, with you shutting him out, he has no idea if he can ever make things right, if he can ever win his sweet pogue back.

Fanbase — @ietss @shimmeringana @ims1 @anything4yooongi @genesis-p4l-love @oatmealisweird @ilovechickfilasauce @brooklynadoresdior @jordscosplay @taylormarieee @rivivie @shadyshadyy @m-mally @jj-maybank944 @bakugouswaif @princessadaniii8

[bunnis-monsters]

Didn’t know monster fucker smut was that serious, damn. Couldn’t you have blocked and moved on before this? Why do you feel the need to put others down because you personally dislike their writing style?

Also I’m not listening to the opinion of someone that one, couldn’t say this without being anonymous and two, couldn’t use the correct “you’re”.

I’m taking away anon privileges for a bit. I hate when people say things like this behind anon.

You’re allowed to send me an ask saying, “could you use more adjectives?”. I’d respond, “of course!”. You’re even allowed to hate my writing, block me, and gossip to all of your friends and family about how I’m the worst writer ever. I won’t see or hear that.

This isn’t appropriate though. Obviously, most adults know that sending hate anonymously isn’t very mature. I don’t want to talk down to you, truly, but haven’t we been taught since kindergarten that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all? Do I have to hold your hand and guide you towards the kinder option of simply blocking me?

This just makes me want to continue using the same things. I’m autistic after all, and enjoy writing similar subjects. It makes ME happy.

If you want a different take on something, commission me. Otherwise, be quiet or wait for requests to return.

(I blocked this anon, took a screenshot of the ask first tho!)

[heavyhitterheaux]

Two Little Suspects

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Y/N and her husband do the suspect challenge featuring her twin brother Ja'Marr

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @languageho3 and @hoodharlow 💕

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Sighing as you heard the doorbell rang as soon as you had sat down at the couch instantly annoyed you. Joe was somewhere in the house and probably in his office downstairs going over film and figured that you had to be the one to answer the door.

As you approached the foyer, you could make out the tall shape of your twin brother without even having to see him face to face and quickly opened the door.

Even though he had literally been over for breakfast earlier that morning.

“So, ugly twin has returned. What do you want? Didn’t I just feed you like an hour ago?” You asked as you looked at your phone to see what the time was and he quickly rolled his eyes.

“Move your ass over so I can come in and besides that was breakfast and now I’m here for lunch.”

“Do I look like an all you can eat buffet to you?! Groceries are EXPENSIVE and you and Joe eat like yall have never seen food before in your LIVES.”

“Hmm, not to me but definitely probably to your husband. The all you can eat buffet I mean and um, so? He’s the highest paid quarterback in the league, he can afford it. Where is he by the way?”

“Minding his business which you should be doing sir. You have your own house, but no one would ever know it because you are literally here all the time. And I’m ignoring that first part.” You told him as you sat down on the couch as he sat next to you.

“I came over to see you because I was bored.”

“Well, I was about to watch a movie, but I have another idea.”

“Go on.”

“We’re doing the suspect challenge and I’m making Joe do it too because I have something to tell him. Let me go get him, actually I’ll call him because I don’t feel like walking.”

“Lazy ass. But what do you have to tell him?”

“I will put you out of my house if you don’t shut up. And I have to tell him about this.” You told Ja’Marr and showed him the picture that had been in your pocket as you clicked on Husband in your phone and Ja’Marr’s eyes went wide.

He answered on the third ring which had you confused.

“Hmm? Ignoring me, husband? What took you so long to answer?”

“Baby, I literally spent the ENTIRE morning with you besides you leaving earlier. I just wanted to look at film for an hour and I told you then you could have me for the rest of the day and it just so happens that I’m finished.”

“Good, come upstairs and pay me some attention.”

“What kind of attention? Like? Are you naked right now?” Joe asked as he whispered the last part and your eyes went wide.

“NO! Your best friend is here…. Again I might add talking about he's ready for lunch and getting on my last nerve as usual.”

“Don’t listen to her Joe!” Ja’Marr yelled and you immediately pinched him.

Joe’s laughter boomed through the phone as you could hear his footsteps coming up the stairs. Once he reached the top step, he hung up and made his way to the living room where both of you were to see Ja’Marr now deep in a bag of Doritos and leaned down to kiss you.

“Wait, where did those come from?” You asked him as he was crunching in your ear because he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch and you didn’t remember buying any Doritos.

“The grocery store.”

“I will…. One of these days I am going to beat your ass for that smart mouth you have. But anyway everybody up and outside!”

“Why?! It’s our bye week! I want to relax!” Ja’Marr whined as Joe was just standing there.

“Because I said so and I’m the boss. We’re doing the suspect challenge.”

“NO.” Joe immediately protested and tried to run away, but you quickly grabbed him by his waist.

“YES! You are doing it and I don’t want to hear any complaints. You two outside, NOW.”

The three of you were now lined up on the pavement in your long driveway and you were up first as you handed Ja’Marr your phone to record it.

“You ready?” He asked and you simply nodded as you took off running.

“Suspect has the attitude of someone who is 6’5, but she’s only 4’11.”

You stopped running as he finished while Joe was trying not to laugh.

“AND?!?! The two of you would crumble without me. Give me that phone. Ja’Marr, you’re up.”

“Be nice to me now.”

“I’m never nice to you anyway, so why would that change? Anyway, start running.” You told him as you pulled down your sleeves because you were starting to get cold.

Ja’Marr did what he was told as you thought of something good to say.

“Hmm, the suspect claims that he comes over to see his twin sister, but is really trying to steal my man.”

“HE WAS MINE FIRST!” Ja’Marr exclaimed as you motioned for Joe to go next even though he was too busy laughing.

“You’re just another one of his groupies! Now come on, husband.”

“Here we go because I already know some wild shit is about to come out of your mouth.” He muttered and all you did was smirk at him as he started running.

“Suspect won’t let me hold it when he pees.”

“NOT YALL BEING NASTY.” Ja’Marr yelled as Joe was too busy laughing.

“Come on, babe. Just one time?!” You asked and your brother looked at both of you in disgust.

“No! And get over here because it’s your turn.”

“Make it a good one.”

“Suspect claims that she doesn’t want kids right now, but that didn’t stop her from wrapping her legs around me last night.” Joe finished and your eyes went wide.

You and Ja’Marr collectively gasped and all he did was pinch the bridge of his nose as you turned to Joe.

“No regrets, my husband is fine as FUCK. Just look at those frosted tips. I plan on wrapping…”

“OKAY, MOVING ON! SPARE ME THE DETAILS!”

“Ja’Marr don’t you want a niece or a nephew?” Joe asked him and he sighed.

“A smaller version of the two of you? I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”

Now it was Ja’Marr’s turn and he was smiling because he was waiting for you to tell Joe the news while Joe was going to record and he got into position.

“Suspect set me up with his sister and then proceeded to get mad when he found out that we were in a relationship and didn’t talk to me for two weeks.”

“AHT AHT! Because the two of you hid it from me! Nice try.”

“We didn’t hide it!” You exclaimed as Joe was getting into position for Ja’Marr to record him.

“You didn’t exactly tell the truth either. Anyway, moving on. Suspect is one of my best friends and because of him this is the happiest I’ve ever seen my twin sister even though the two of them make me sick.” As soon as he was finished Joe turned the camera to the two of you to show him leaning down to kiss you.

“Aww, that was cute. I guess you are okay, sometimes.” You told him as he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t make me take it back.” He told you as you took your phone back to record your brother.

“Suspect is the ugly twin who was found in a dumpster behind Popeyes in a back alley.”

“WE LOOK ALIKE, DUMBASS! And I just gave you a nice one!”

“YOU’RE ADOPTED! So I don’t know what you’re talking about! And I fed you this morning and that was nice of me! I could have let you starve!”

“I got one for you babe.” You told Joe and he nodded as he began to run.

“Even though suspects claimed that I don’t want kids right now, he’s in for a surprise because I took a pregnancy test two days ago and it was confirmed at my doctor’s appointment this morning. He’s going to be a father of not one, but two little Burrows.”

Joe immediately stopped and turned to you with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Are you serious? Baby, are you serious?” He asked as he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

You nodded your head and proceeded to take out the sonogram picture from the pocket of your sweatshirt and handed it to him.

He stared at it for a few seconds before he immediately picked you up and you had wrapped your legs around his waist as he was planting kisses all over your face.

“See? That position right there is why she has two in her. Good lord, I wasn’t ready for one mini version of them and now there’s going to be two?!” Ja’Marr said as he had taken your phone and was now recording you and Joe.

“They’re going to need to pay me if they want me to babysit.”

[mrsmnsn]

“It looks better on you anyway…”

summary: you’ve been dating for a while and, to make you officially his, Eddie gives you something very special….

*no warnings only fluff (ok maybe there’s a bit of a suggestive content here but nothing too serious)*

(i had this draft for a while now and i loooove this headcannon! hope you like it as much as i do)

“What do you mean by it’s not official?” You desperately asked Robin

“Wait a minute, i didn’t say that! It is official, just not official official.” She says sipping her drink.

“Robin you’re not making any sense right now.” Nancy replies seeing how nervous you got.

The three of you were having a girls night at a bar, only to gossip, have some drinks and celebrate womanhood. But now, after a few drinks, you shared with the girls your story with Eddie and how it was when you finally got to be together. It was actually so casual and simple because Eddie knew you didn’t like to cause a big scene and to have all attention to you. So you had a nice date and on the way back to your house, before you could get in, he asked if you wanted to be his girl and if he could be your boyfriend. You didn’t waist a minute and involved him in a hug and a lot of kisses.

“I’m just saying that some couples like to make a gesture to make it official, so everyone else can see they’re taken. And, in your case, that’s not what happened.” Robin explains herself and now your head was thinking of all the things Eddie might have given to you

“Didn’t you hear her story? That was exactly the opposite Eddie was trying to do, he wanted to be a special moment for just the two of them. I think that’s very sweet of him.” Nancy and Robin keep arguing when it comes to you

“So you’re saying that hypothetically he was supposed to give me something, like a ring?” You interrupt them making both girls look at you

“He’s not supposed to do anything, but yes, that’s what i meant.” She replied and then started to tell a story about one of her old friends.

By the end of the night, Eddie picks you up and takes you to his place, as you agreed. You were going to spend the weekend with him.

“Hey pretty girl! How was girls night?” He kisses the top of you head and help you get in his van.

“It was very nice, but you know how Robin can get very excited about some stuff and how Nancy doesn’t agree with her but still tries to be nice and it goes on and on.” He laughs at your words and he enters the van too. “But you’ll see, i’m still going to make them become best friends!”

You keep talking about your night to him and you two stay in a comfortable silence listening to one of his Black Sabbath tapes until you get to his home. He turns off the car and before he could hop off, you stop him.

“What is it sweetheart?” He asked looking at your face, searching for something wrong.

“Can i ask you something?” You look at his hands full of rings holding yours.

“Of course you can, you can ask me anything.” He said and his tone couldn’t be sweeter

“Earlier we were taking about dating and the girls asked me how it was when you asked to be my boyfriend, and i told them. But Robin said that even though it was the most teeth-rotting story ever there was something wrong, something was missing…”

Eddie was scared of your next words but still encouraged you to continue.

“She said that normally, after a while, it’s common for the guy to give to his girlfriend something, like a gesture or a gift i don’t know. But that’s supposed to be like an affirmation of the relationship… You know what, forget it, it’s fucking stupid.” You give up on telling him what you wanted and turn to leave the car.

“Hey hey, wait a minute. There’s nothing stupid about that! You can take your time, but i want to hear it.” Eddie says, giving your hands gentle rubs.

“I feel stupid asking you this, and you know how you are my first boyfriend so i’m not sure how things are supposed to be now…” You organize the words in your head before you tell him. “Alright, hm, I was going to ask if maybe you plan to do that… i don’t want you to give me anything, and i know we’re not dating for a impressive long time and maybe we’re supposed to wait a bit more for that, i don’t even know if you are expecting me to give something to you. I am a bit lost…” You said everything too fast and got lost on your own words. But Eddie listened to you very carefully and understood what was happening.

“Are you saying that you want something, this ‘gesture’, to officialize our relationship?” He asked and looked at your eyes “Well, i wasn’t actually thinking of giving you something right now, but now that you said that i’m thinking of something here…” He let go of your hands and put them behind his neck. “ I really like the idea of people seeing that you are taken, that you are only mine… turn around, please.”

You were confused but still, you turn around and you can feel him getting closer. So close that your back is hitting his chest. He starts to whisper when you see him put his necklace in front of you.

“What do you think babe?” His soft voice rings in your ear and you admire his hands holding his necklace that you always made sure to tell him how much you loved it on him, of how attractive he looked with the pick hanging over his chest. “I know how much you like this, and imagine that… you walking around with this very specific necklace around your neck. This screams ‘i have a fucking man, he’s a rockstar, a hottie, and im all fucking his’. Uh, i loved that!”

You were smiling and blushing at his words as he lifted your hair up and put the necklace on you. You didn’t know what to say and got all nervous but you were relieved he liked your idea.

“I loved it Eds, thank you!” You dropped your hair and looked at the pick now hanging in the middle of your tits.

“I loved the placement don’t you.” He teases you and you can hear his mischievous smile and the way he’s giggling when you shove him. “I’m serious, i can imagine already, you on top of me and the pick hanging there and… wait a minute. THATS WHY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!

You start to laugh and cover your face embarrassed. “Shut up Eddie!”

“No baby, don’t hide your pretty face. Let me see you.” You lean into his body again and look up at him. “You do look very attractive with it.” And as he speaks, you can feel his hand on your jaw, making you look up at him, and the other, caressing your thigh.

“What about you? I don’t want to just take your necklace like that.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, i can make another one for me so we can match, if that’s your concern.” He says teasing you once again. “But now that’s your necklace. It looks better on you anyway, so”

You just close your eyes, feeling him touching your nose with his before he kisses you passionately. Even after lots of shared kisses between the two of you, he still manages to take your breath away.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” He opened his door and yours too, being the gentleman he is, and with an arm thrown around your shoulder, he leads you inside. “Maybe we can test that theory, to see if the pick will look good on you when you’re on top of me.” He makes you giggle and you playfully slap his chest as you walk up and open the door.

“Maybe…”

[starsjulia]

baby fever // alexia putellas

a/n : maybe it’s because i’m ovulating, but i feel like im having withdrawals from my child (i don’t have a child)

warnings : none!!

“Alexia,” you said, flopping onto the couch dramatically, your phone clutched in one hand. “Look at this baby. Look. Isn’t this proof we should have one?”

She glanced up from her iPad, one brow raised. “That’s the fifth baby you’ve shown me today.”

“Because they’re soooo cute! And we could have one!” You shoved the phone under her nose, showing her a TikTok of a giggling infant in a tiny onesie. “Imagine our baby. They’d have your eyes, my—”

Alexia cut you off with an amused smirk. “We’ve talked about this, cariño.”

“No, you’ve talked about logistics,” you shot back, sitting cross-legged beside her. “I’ve talked about how I want a baby, like, yesterday.”

She sighed, setting the iPad down. “I’m not saying no. I’m saying it’s a big decision. And with everything we have going on—your work, my schedule—it’s not the right time.”

“Then I’ll carry!” you declared, your voice rising with excitement. “You can keep playing, and I’ll do all the hard parts. It’s perfect!”

Alexia blinked at you, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve… really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“For months,” you said earnestly, grabbing her hand. “I don’t care about logistics or timing. I just know I want to do this with you.”

Her gaze softened, but there was still hesitation. “I’m not against it, amor. I just want to make sure we’re ready. Both of us.”

You groaned, flopping backward into her lap. “If you won’t listen to me, I’ll get backup.”

Alexia frowned. “What does that mean?”



————————

It meant enlisting Mapi and Ingrid.

“Finally!” Mapi said when you brought up your idea at training. She threw her hands in the air dramatically. “I’ve been telling Alexia for years she needs to let loose a little. Having a baby is perfect.”

“Right?” you said, clutching Mapi’s arm. “Imagine her as a mamá. So nurturing, so responsible—”

“And terrifying,” Mapi added, smirking. “Disciplining kids with that captain energy? Iconic.”

Ingrid chimed in from beside her. “Honestly, we’re on board. Do it, and we’ll be the godparents.”

“You’d have to fight Mariona for it,” you teased.

Mapi scoffed, draping an arm over Ingrid’s shoulder. “Please. I’m already the cool tía. It’s a done deal.”

Ingrid smiled softly, giving you a nudge. “Besides, we think you’re for perfect carrying the baby. You’re already glowing just talking about it.”

“You get it,” you said dramatically, pointing at Ingrid like she’d solved world hunger. “Why can’t Alexia see it?”

“Oh, she does,” Mapi said knowingly. “She’s just pretending to be logical about it. She’ll come around. Trust me.”

—————————

The breakthrough came at a team barbecue, thanks to Ingrid and Mapi’s nephew, little Liam, who’d stolen your heart the moment you met him.

“You’re so perfect,” you cooed, holding him close as he gurgled in your arms. “The cutest baby ever.”

Across the yard, Alexia watched you from a distance. Mapi elbowed her lightly, smirking. “You’re staring, capi. You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Alexia muttered, though her gaze softened as she watched you bounce Liam gently.

“You’re thinking about it, though,” Ingrid said, stepping up beside them.

Alexia sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just—”

“You’re overthinking,” Mapi interrupted. “Classic Alexia. Look, you’re already a leader. A protector. It’s who you are. Being a mom? You’d be incredible. And (Y/N)? She’s ready. You can see it in her face.”

Alexia didn’t answer, but her thoughtful expression spoke volumes.

Later, as you cradled Liam, Alexia finally approached.

“Look at him,” you said, smiling as Liam giggled and reached for her. “He’s perfect. And soon, he’ll have a little friend. Isn’t that right, Ale?”

Alexia raised a brow. “What?”

“Our baby!” you explained, beaming. “He’s gonna have a friend, and they’ll grow up together, and it’ll be so cute.”

Alexia reached out hesitantly, letting Liam grab her finger. She froze, visibly melting at the tiny hand gripping hers. Mapi and Ingrid exchanged smug looks from across the yard.

Alexia sighed, her voice quiet. “You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said, grinning. “Come on, Ale. Let’s do it. I’ll carry, you’ll be the hot football mum, and Mapi and Ingrid are already fighting to be the godparents.”

“We’re winning,” Mapi called from nearby, raising a beer.

Alexia laughed softly, shaking her head. “Fine.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait. Fine?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling at your stunned expression. “But we’re doing this properly. No rushing.”

“Whatever you say, mamá,” you teased, setting Liam in his stroller before throwing your arms around her. “Let’s go make a baby!”

“That’s… not how it works,” she said, pulling back slightly.

“Oh, right,” you said, blushing. “I knew that.”

Her laughter was warm as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to see you glowing, amor. And for the record… Mapi and Ingrid are not automatically the godparents.”

“We’ll see about that!” Mapi shouted, earning another laugh from both of you.

As Alexia’s hand rested gently on your stomach, you knew everything was about to change. But for the first time, it felt like a change you were both ready for.

[dissapointu]

you are so QUICKK 😧😧!! this is real talent! may you please do arcane characters reacting to their partner with a love for singing??

OKAY OKAY, ipersonally love this one Mamas.

Jinx

“WAIT. YOU CAN SING?!” Jinx immediately demands a private concert. She’ll sit crisscross on the floor, eyes wide like a kid, yelling, “DO THE HIGH NOTE! DO IT!” And if you’re shy? Oh, she’ll fix that real quick. She’ll grab your hands and start twirling you around like, “C’mon, babe, we’re making a musical!”

Also, she absolutely wants you to sing during her chaotic explosions. “Nothing says boom like a ballad, right?”

Vi

Vi finds out you can sing, and she’s floored. Like, totally stunned. “Wait, you never told me you were this good.” She’ll act all cool about it, but the second you start singing, her cheeks turn pink, and she’s just like, “Oh, okay, so I’m dating an angel now?”

She’ll tease you sometimes, though, like, “Not bad, babe, but I can definitely do better,” and then she belts out the worst off-key note you’ve ever heard.

Sevika

Sevika is the definition of lowkey obsessed. She pretends it’s no big deal, but you catch her watching you with this soft little smirk whenever you sing. “Not bad,” she says, but the way her eyes stay glued to you? Yeah, she’s in love.

Also, she’ll tell anyone who’ll listen. “Oh, yeah, my partner? Killer voice. Better than any of those Piltie performers.” If you ever sing her to sleep, she’s done for. Total simp mode unlocked.

Silco

Silco is SHOCKED. Like, he didn’t expect this at all. He’ll raise an eyebrow and say something like, “A hidden talent, hmm? Fascinating.” But deep down, he’s super impressed and maybe a little emotional.

If you’re singing in private, he’ll quietly sit and listen, his sharp features softening ever so slightly. He won’t admit it, but he loves the peace your voice brings to his otherwise stressful life.

Vander

Vander is SO proud. “You’ve got a voice that could stop a fight in its tracks,” he says with a grin. He’ll encourage you to sing whenever you feel like it, even if it’s just humming while you’re both cooking.

He’s also the type to suggest performing at The Last Drop, like, “C’mon, they’d love you!” And if you do? He’s in the front row, cheering louder than anyone else.

Ekko

Ekko is IN AWE. “Yo, how did I not know you could sing like this?!” He’ll immediately start making plans for you to perform at one of his Firelight gatherings. “You’d totally kill it on stage.”

If you’re shy, he’s super supportive. “Okay, okay, what if you just sing for me? No one else, promise.” And if you sing to him while he works on his gadgets? He’s melting on the spot.

Jayce

Jayce is your #1 fan. “Babe, your voice is incredible!” He’s the type to hype you up SO MUCH it’s almost embarrassing. He’ll make sure everyone knows you’re talented. “Yeah, my partner? Total rockstar. No big deal.”

He’ll also 100% try to duet with you. Spoiler: he’s terrible, but he doesn’t care because you’re laughing, and that’s all that matters to him.

Viktor

Viktor is absolutely enchanted. The first time he hears you sing, he just stares, blinking like, “That was… beautiful.” He’s not one for grand gestures, but he’ll quietly hum your songs while he’s working, and if you catch him, he’ll blush and be like, “You’re contagious.”

On tough days, he’ll ask you to sing to him, his head resting on your shoulder as he murmurs, “You make everything feel lighter.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is blown away. “Darling, your voice is stunning,” she says, completely captivated. She’ll encourage you to sing whenever you feel like it, even suggesting you try performing in Piltover. “I could arrange something, you know.”

She also LOVES when you sing to her while she’s relaxing. “You’re my personal lullaby,” she says with a soft smile.

Mel Medarda

Mel isn’t even surprised. “Of course, you’re a talented singer. Why wouldn’t you be?” But when you actually sing for her, she’s completely mesmerized. She’ll sip her wine, eyes fixed on you, and murmur, “You should perform for the entire council.”

She’ll commission a full orchestra just so you can sing with them. “You deserve the finest accompaniment, my love.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is so nonchalant about it, but you KNOW she’s impressed. “You’ve got a nice voice,” she says, as if it’s no big deal. But the next time you sing, she’s sitting up straighter, arms crossed, totally focused.

She’ll casually mention it in conversation, like, “Yes, my partner is a singer. No, you can’t book them. They’re mine.”

Cecil B. Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger finds your singing fascinating. “The human vocal range is truly remarkable!” He’s full of weirdly specific compliments, like, “Your pitch is mathematically perfect in the upper registers.”

He’ll hum along with you in his adorable, squeaky way, and if you sing while he’s working, he’ll call it “a most delightful soundtrack.”

Salo

Salo plays it cool, but he’s secretly super impressed. “You’ve got some pipes, huh?” He won’t say much, but the soft smile on his face while you sing says everything.

He’ll also tease you sometimes, like, “I should start charging people just to hear you.”

Scar

Scar is HYPED. “You’re a singer?! That’s so badass!” he will demand a private concert and cheer like a maniac after every song. “Encore! Encore!”

If you ever sing while he is working, she will totally get distracted and start singing along, turning the whole thing into a random jam session.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is your BIGGEST FAN. She’s recording videos of you singing, posting them everywhere, and hyping you up like, “Look at my babe absolutely KILLING IT.”

She’ll also try to harmonize with you, even if she’s awful, just because she wants to join in the fun. “Okay, I’m bad, but I’m here for the vibes.”

Lest

Lest is quietly enchanted. She doesn’t say much, but the way her eyes soften when you sing says it all. “Your voice suits you,” she murmurs, his tone full of quiet admiration.

She loves listening to you sing while you’re doing everyday things, like cooking or cleaning. “It makes the world feel a little brighter,” she says softly.

TL;DR: They’re ALL obsessed with your voice. Whether they’re cheering, bragging, or blushing quietly. you’re THEIR star.

[stxrslut]

PRACTISE MAKES PERFECT ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

pairing; bestfriend!sarah x innocent!reader

summary;  it’s no secret to you that sarah has a lot of experience with sex, boys and girls alike. you do not, so when you find out that you are possibly going to need to suck a dick, she takes the liberty of giving you your first ever bit of practise

content;  strap, oral (technically? idk), strap 

authors note; i kind of hate this actually, feels pretty rushed. requested by anon but i put my own twist on it.

“I got it!” she calls out from the front door when she returns from her little errand. you’re not actually sure what she ran out so urgently to get. you’d just got done telling her a rather personal thing actually, you were a little appalled when she abandoned you so quickly.

she comes into the room carrying a small paper bag which, to your astonishment, is branded with the emblem of the local sex shop. she throws it down on the bed before going to her dresser to retrieve something while she speaks ever so casually.

“jj maybank saw me buying that,” she chuckles, “so embarrassing.” she’s digging through her bottom drawer, throwing clothes left and right as she tries to find a specific unnamed item. 

“saw you buying what?” you ask perplexedly, brows furrowed. “you kinda ran out on me.” you don’t mean to put a passive aggressive tone in your voice but it is there.

“something to help you.” she looks back, “and I’m sorry about leaving so quickly, just that the shop was gonna close.” 

you tilt your head. help you? surely not to help with the dilemma you presented to her before she ran off, that would be absurd. “to help me with what?” 

she laughs at you like it’s obvious, “with your problem of course.” she shakes her head, “told me that you wanna suck this guy's dick, and that’s definitely something you don’t wanna go into with no experience.” 

you raise an eyebrow “well then how did you do it?” 

she waves you off, “that’s different— anyway, I thought since I helped you out before with the touching yourself thing, this wouldn’t be so different.” she shrugs and turns around after finally pulling out a bright pink dildo. 

“you’re gonna— I’m gonna suck on that?” you don’t even know what to say. “wait…” she hums and nods, waiting for the question, “if you already had that here.. what did you need to buy from the sex shop?” 

once again, she acts like it’s obvious, “the strap of course. can’t exactly learn the ins and outs of oral sex if the dick isn’t attached to a body.” she scoffs. bear in mind, you had never once asked her to show you the ins and outs.

“so youre gonna put the strap on.. and I'm going to suck it?” you question.

“yes, exactly.”

                                         *

this is so weird, you think as you kneel down in between sarah’s open legs where she's perched on the bed, bright pink toy sticking up like a sore thumb. or dick, if you want to be more literal. your lips are parted as you do your best to prepare yourself. “So I just…”

“suck, yeah,” she nods, smiling down at you, expression joyous, she seems to really enjoy teaching you things. “just start with the tip of it, you'll throw up if you go too fast.” she tells you. you frown.

“that can happen?” you ask, slightly astonished as you stop leaning forward to look up and listen to what she has to say. she nods and chuckles once again.

“oh yeah, that can happen.” she smiles, “but it won’t happen to you, because i’m gonna teach you how to do it right.” she strokes the hair on the back of your head affectionately and you take it as your sign to start.

at first you only take enough in your mouth to cover the front of your tongue, it doesn't even touch your gag reflex. It seems pretty easy. you follow sarah's directions to swirl your tongue and where to swirl it. as it continues, you find yourself subconsciously taking more of it.

the fake veins imprinted on the sparkly toy create texture to stimulate your tongue, you do your best to imagine it a little more coarse, like skin, maybe imagine the skin moving a little, sarah had told you that happens with dicks. 

suddenly, it jerks upwards slightly and you pull back in little shock to see sarah holding the base, controlling its movement. “what did you do that for!?” you exclaim.

she giggles, “yeah, they do that sometimes.” she strokes your hair again, “just twitch outta nowhere, you gotta be ready for it babe, i'm just doing whatever a good best friend would.” you have to fight making a snarky remark, sure that this is not what normal best friends do.

you go back down with a little more confidence, you manage to get about half of the toy in your mouth which sarah tells you is amazing for your first time. sure you gag a couple of times but you persevere and by the end you could probably consider yourself a seasoned pro.

you stop when sarah begins to imitate what she says is a boy having an orgasm, “ugh.. oh yeah,” she grunts in an over exaggerated deep voice, “so good babe, im like literally cumming right now.” 

you giggle, “i'm sure they don't sound that stupid.” but sarah shakes her head, looking down at you with matter of factly raised eyebrows.

“oh baby, you have so much to learn.” she scruffs your hair affectionately. “but for now,” she gestures down to the little wet spot that she can see in your panties due to your skirt riding up, “why don't I show you a different way to help with that.”

[iamgonnagetyouback]

james potter x reader where he's jealous and remus doesn't always talk about sirius

The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet for a Saturday evening. Most students were milling about outside, taking advantage of the crisp autumn weather, but James Potter was perched stiffly on one of the armchairs by the fireplace, staring at the door as though it owed him an explanation.

Across from him, Remus Lupin was mid-rant, gesturing vaguely with a chocolate frog. "And so I told Sirius he couldn’t just charm the books to read themselves, because that defeats the entire purpose of studying, doesn’t it? But, of course, he—James, are you even listening to me?"

James, who hadn’t looked away from the door in at least five minutes, blinked. "What? Yeah, of course, I’m listening to you."

Remus raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? Then what did I just say?"

James scratched the back of his neck, his hazel eyes still glued to the door. "Uh… something about Sirius and… words?"

Remus let out a dramatic sigh, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly. "You know, I don’t always talk about Sirius, James. I have other topics."

James finally tore his gaze from the door to smirk at his friend. "Sure, Moony. And I’m totally listening to you and not, in any way, staring at the door and counting how long my lovely girlfriend’s been gone with Amos bloody Diggory."

Remus tilted his head, catching the light teasing in James’ tone but also noting the furrow of concern in his brows. "They’ve only been gone for five minutes, Prongs."

"Exactly!" James exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "What could they possibly need to discuss in private for that long? Private. Honestly." He made air quotes around the word as though it were the most ridiculous concept in the world.

"Maybe something private?" Remus suggested with a shrug.

James leaned back, crossing his arms and pouting like a child denied dessert. "You’re not helping, Moony. What could Diggory possibly want? He doesn’t even like books—probably doesn’t know what a book is. Did you see the way he walked her out of the common room? All confident, like he owns the place? Smug git."

Remus suppressed a smile. "You know, if you’re this worried, maybe you should just follow them next time."

"Don’t tempt me." James narrowed his eyes, the wheels clearly turning in his head.

James let out an indignant scoff, running a hand through his messy hair. “Why couldn’t he say it here, in front of everyone, where it’s safe?” His voice grew increasingly dramatic, and Remus could only watch, mildly horrified but also slightly entertained.

“James, I don’t think Diggory is plotting her demise,” Remus reasoned dryly.

“You don’t know that!” James hissed, glaring at the door again as though willing it to open. “He’s suspicious. I mean, why does he always have to be so—ugh—charming?” He spat the word like it physically hurt him. “It’s unnatural. What does he think he’s playing at, asking for ‘private’ time?!”

“You’re spiraling,” Remus pointed out, though his tone carried no real concern.

“Maybe I am spiraling!” James snapped. “Maybe spiraling is exactly what I should be doing when my girlfriend is out there—alone—with Amos Diggory. For TEN MINUTES.”

Before Remus could reply, the portrait swung open, and in walked you, looking perfectly content and completely unaware of the turmoil you’d left in your wake.

James bolted upright, all his previous indignation vanishing in an instant. "You’re back!" He practically sprinted to your side, his glasses slightly askew from the rush.

You blinked at him, startled by his sudden enthusiasm. "Uh, yeah. I was only gone for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?!" James gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? It felt like ten days! One minute feels like a day without you, darling!"

Remus groaned, muttering something about melodrama under his breath as he retreated to his chair.

You laughed, shaking your head. "James, you’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously relieved you’re safe!" he quipped, his eyes softening as they roved over your face. "So… what did Diggory want to talk about? In private," he added, voice dripping with mockery.

You rolled your eyes. "He wanted me to tutor him in Charms."

James’ brow furrowed, jealousy bubbling up, though he masked it poorly with faux curiosity. "And you said…?"

"I said no, of course," you replied breezily. "He’s hopeless and creepy. I can live without that headache."

James’ face immediately brightened, his chest puffing out in pride. “That’s my girl,” he said with a smug grin, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Smart, talented, and way too good to waste her time on someone like Diggory.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Jealous, are we?”

“Who, me? Jealous?” James scoffed, though his ears turned pink. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Behind him, Remus coughed pointedly.

“Alright, maybe a little,” James admitted, pulling you closer. “But it’s only because I’m madly in love with you, and if Diggory thinks he can swoop in and—”

“James, I literally said no to him,” you interrupted, laughing. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Damn right, he doesn’t,” James said, his jealousy melting into his usual cheeky grin. “Now, c’mon, I’ve been waiting forever to cuddle you.”

“Forever being ten minutes,” Remus quipped from his armchair.

James turned to him with a mock glare. “I don’t need your sass, Moony.”

“Of course you don’t,” Remus said with a sigh, hiding a smirk behind his book.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you really that worried, Potter?"

"Not worried, per se," he replied, the smirk creeping back onto his face. "Just… concerned for your well-being. Diggory’s a creep. He could’ve tried something. And if he had, well…" He flexed his arms exaggeratedly. "I’d have to remind him why I’m Gryffindor’s best duelist and the Quidditch captain."

You burst into laughter, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh, James. You’re impossible."

"And yet, you love me," he said cheekily, stealing a quick kiss on your forehead.

BONUS

The Quidditch pitch was alive with the sound of beating wings and shouts as the Gryffindor team practiced. You sat on the stands, your eyes glued to James as he weaved through the air, golden and red robes fluttering behind him.

Next to you, Remus was trying to explain something—probably related to Sirius, as always—but you weren’t paying attention.

"And then, of course, Sirius said—Dove? Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course I am, Rem," you said absentmindedly, your gaze fixed on James as he executed a particularly sharp turn to dodge a bludger.

"Yeah? What was I talking about then?"

"Something about Sirius and… stuff?"

Remus groaned, his cheeks turning pink. “Why does everyone assume I’m always talking about Sirius?”

You didn’t answer, already back to watching James, who waved at you mid-air and nearly crashed into one of the goalposts. Remus sighed. “You and James are perfect for each other,” he muttered, shaking his head.

[lovelygirlwithablog]

୨ ⎯ headcanons . nicolas alexander chavez x f!reader

a/n: i started watching monsters and MAN, i get the HYPE. here is some cute and a little spicy headcanons for y'all!!!

━ spontaneous AF

Nic would totally be the guy to text you like, “Get ready, I’m picking you up in 20,” and then take you on some random adventure, like stargazing or getting ice cream at midnight. Literally boyfriend goals.

━ biggest hype man

He’s always like, “Babe, you’re AMAZING,” even when you’re just, like, doing homework or surviving Monday. He’d make you feel like a literal queen 24/7.

━ obsessed with your music taste

He’d always ask for song recs and then add them to a playlist called, like, Songs That Remind Me of Her (AND HE’D ACTUALLY LISTEN TO IT).

━ puppy love vibes

He’d 100% suggest adopting a dog together because “it’d be so cute, just like us,” and then post pics of you two with the dog, captioned, “My girls 🫶🏻.” Like, STOP.

━ always touchy

Nic would hold your hand everywhere. Like, even if you’re just walking around Target, he’d be holding it or wrapping an arm around you. People would literally gag at how cute you are.

━ so funny it hurts

He’d do dumb stuff like mimic your laugh or make up random nicknames for you, just to see you crack up. His goal in life is literally to make you laugh until you cry.

━ old school sweetheart

He’s SO that guy who shows up at your house with flowers “just because” or plans a cute dinner date with candles, even if it’s just takeout. ROMANCE IS ALIVE.

━ late night calls

He’d call you at like 11 PM and be like, “So what’s on your mind?” And then suddenly it’s 2 AM, and you’re talking about your childhood dreams or your favorite foods. LIKE WHO DOES THAT? Nic does.

━ intense eye contact

He’d have this thing where he just stares at you with those gorgeous eyes, like you’re the only person in the room. And you’d be like, “What?” and he’d smirk and go, “Nothing, you’re just distracting.” HELP.

━ that smirk game

He totally knows what he’s doing when he hits you with that crooked smile. Like, you’d be arguing over something dumb, and he’d smirk mid-sentence, making you forget what you were even mad about. It’s unfair, honestly.

━ hand placement expert

Whether it’s his hand on the small of your back when you’re walking, or casually brushing his fingers against yours before holding your hand, he’s SO smooth about it. Like, boy, do you know what you’re doing? (He does.)

━ jealous but chill

He’s not like, possessive, but if another guy’s flirting with you, he’ll slide up next to you, wrap an arm around your waist, and be like, “Hey babe, ready to go?” in this low, confident voice. Dead.

━ his hoodie

He’d totally give you his hoodie when you’re cold, but low-key, he thinks you look hotter in it than he does. And then he’d be like, “You’re keeping that, right? It looks better on you anyway.” STOP.

━ the way he kisses

Nic is a pull-you-in-by-the-waist-and-make-you-forget-your-name kind of kisser. Like, soft at first, but then when he gets serious? UGH. You’re blushing just thinking about it.

━ voice drop

He’d get all close to your ear to whisper something—like a joke, or even just “You’re so pretty”—and his voice would drop like 10 octaves. You’d be SHIVERING.

━ protective but subtle

He’d walk on the side of the street closest to traffic without saying a word or instinctively pull you closer in a crowded room. He wouldn’t make a big deal about it, but inside you’d be like, “I’m marrying this man.”

━ that lowkey dominance

He’d be the guy to put his arm around your chair at dinner or rest his hand on your thigh while driving. It’s not showy, just this quiet confidence that makes you melt.

━ post workout look

When he shows up all sweaty from the gym with his hair messed up and his shirt clinging to him just right? You’re DONE. And he knows it, too, because he’ll smirk and say, “What? See something you like?”

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hello! Thank you so much for all the effort and care you put into this account. I am a white high school english teacher and most of my students are Black; I cannot overstate how beneficial your lessons have been to my work. A lot of it has been in how I pick which texts we read. I’ve tried my best to carefully search for as many different Black authors as I can, especially modern ones, and it’s made me so happy to see my kids get excited about Black characters in stories! I FINALLY got a kid (who had refused to read all year) hooked on a book because he said the main character was just like him. You’ve also given me some really good advice on how to guide their critical thinking about race in a way that puts their own voices and experiences and feelings at the center. I’m learning so much from them as well, and when I make mistakes out of ignorance, your lessons have been invaluable for helping me maturely correct myself and make things right with kids. Besides, it’s plain easier to communicate when I’ve done the work at home to get more familiar with important parts of Black culture and experience. I definitely still have work to do for myself and with my white coworkers, but I just want you to know that what you’re doing is having a real positive impact on some young Black people in the world :)))

I think out of all the responses I get, my favorite is when I find out that the Black kids that people are around benefit from the newfound perspectives. Black children are treated so poorly in schools, like it honestly breaks my heart how we get sent in and expected to fail. It really can fuck up your perspective on the rest of your life when you have teachers that you're supposed to listen to... And they practically enforce that you don't matter. So I appreciate that you actually made that space a little more welcoming for our kids; that means the world to me. 😭😭😭😭

And really, just think about it- you got that job without ever having to think about these things before. For every teacher that's like you, there are hundreds that just... Aren't. That don't do the extra work. And they don't have to!

[daisymbin]

10. "do you ever think about us like… as more than friends?" With Joshuaa pls<3<3<<3 and female

of course!!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

fluff prompt #10: "do you ever think about us like... as more than friends?"

it was quiet in the living room, the kind of quiet that felt rare. the only sounds were the soft hum of the heater and the occasional rustle of your blanket as you shifted on the couch. joshua sat at the other end, his legs stretched out, one arm draped casually over the back of the sofa.

he tried to focus on the movie playing on the tv, but his attention kept wandering. the way your head rested against the cushion, the way your lips curved ever so slightly when something funny happened on screen—even when you weren’t looking at him, you managed to pull his thoughts in your direction.

he didn’t even know when it started. maybe it was the way you always remembered the little things, like how he liked his coffee or which songs he couldn’t resist humming along to. maybe it was the way you laughed, so genuine and bright, it felt like sunshine.

whatever it was, it had been consuming him for months, this question that he couldn’t shake.

“you okay?” your voice broke through his thoughts, soft and warm, pulling him back to the present.

he realized he’d been staring. again.

“yeah,” he said quickly, sitting up straighter. “just... thinking.”

you raised an eyebrow, tilting your head to look at him fully. “about what?”

he hesitated. this was it. he could feel his heart pick up speed, a dull thud against his ribs.

“about us,” he said finally, his voice quieter than he intended.

you blinked, surprise flickering across your face. “us?”

“yeah.” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like every word needed to be chosen carefully. “do you ever think about us... like, as more than friends?”

the question hung in the air, delicate and unspoken for far too long. he couldn’t tell what you were thinking—your expression was unreadable, your eyes searching his face like you were trying to piece together a puzzle.

he felt his chest tighten. maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. maybe—

“sometimes,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he froze. “really?”

you nodded, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your blanket. “i mean, yeah. it’s hard not to, you know? you’re kind of... you.”

his brows furrowed. “what does that mean?”

you let out a nervous laugh, finally meeting his gaze. “it means you’re sweet, and thoughtful, and you always know how to make people feel comfortable. and you just... have this way of making everything better. it’s hard not to think about it sometimes.”

joshua felt his heart swell at your words, warmth spreading through his chest. he hadn’t expected you to say that—not so openly, not so honestly.

“i didn’t think you’d say yes,” he admitted, his lips curving into a shy smile.

you tilted your head, curiosity lighting up your features. “why not?”

“i don’t know,” he said with a soft laugh. “maybe because i was scared you didn’t feel the same way.”

“and now?”

his smile widened, his confidence building with every second that passed. he shifted closer to you, closing the space between you just enough to feel your warmth.

“now i’m wondering if i can ask you out without it being weird,” he said, his voice light but filled with meaning.

your laughter rang out, soft and genuine, and he felt like he could listen to it forever.

“i think you can,” you replied, a playful glint in your eyes.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he leaned in a little more, his knee brushing against yours. “would you say yes?”

“probably.”

“just probably?”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was undeniable. “fine, definitely.”

his grin turned into a full laugh, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“good,” he said softly, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers lingered for a moment, his touch warm against your skin. “because i’ve been wanting to ask for a while now.”

you leaned into his touch, your smile softening. “took you long enough.”

he chuckled, feeling a weight he didn’t even know he’d been carrying finally lift.

“better late than never,” he said, and this time, it was his turn to stare.

you didn’t look away.

[subcultureblues]

Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 3

———

Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

1 / 2 / 3

———

“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and dashed to his room to round up his notes.

“Bye mom love you gotta go!” He shouted as he hustled out the door and jumped on his bike. Dustin had just made it out of the suburbs and into town when he spotted a familiar Maroon Beemer in the lot by the Quickie Mart.

Steve was standing beside his car in a fluorescent windbreaker, leaning on the open driver’s side door. He was staring at the bouquet of flowers in his hands like his nose was about to start bleeding.

Dustin slowed.

….He could probably spare a few minutes to see what the hell that was about.

Really, it’s been a while since Dustin made peace with the fact his curiosity would almost invariably get the best of him.

“Hey Steve!” Dustin hollared, dinging his bike bell a few times.

Steve startled, comically jerking to attention. As a thoroughbred jock, Steve could be ever so slightly air-headed at times. But that usually didn’t extend to a total lack of situational awareness.

Steve waved at Dustin as he approached.

“Why are you angry at those flowers?”

“What? I’m not - “ Steve cut himself off with a sigh. He shot the flowers another grimace. “I’m just trying to decide if I’m being a total idiot right now…”

Ah, Dustin realized. Must have pissed off Robin.

“What happened?”

“I fucked up, I think. And flowers, that’s my go-to right? That’s the move. But…” he tapped above his temple with the side of his fist - as if to dislodge the stupid. He rested it there for a second. “I can’t help but think I’m becoming totally neurotic.” He said, vaguely concerned.

“Girls like flowers.” Dustin offered a simple shrug.

“Yeah, girls do.” Steve agreed. Then sighed again, shaking his head.

Jesus, he must be gone bad.

And Dustin likes Robin. More importantly, he liked her for Steve, they were a perfect match. But most importantly of all - if Steve fucks this up, Dustin spends the next who knows how long listening to him complain about his endless strings of unfulfilling dates.

“And red roses? Can’t get more romantic than that, right?” He said, trying to sound encouraging.

“You don’t think they’re… I don’t know. Lame? Christ, what the hell am I even - I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.” Steve said, sounding totally defeated. He dragged a hand through his hair, displacing his artfully styled do. And too distracted to even notice? Dustin was very nearly starting to get worried. “Never mind forget it. Just, forget I said anything…”

“Who even is this guy? Your Steve.” Dustin scoffed. “Legendary lady killer of Hawkins High. Remember? You’re great at this.”

““Yeah, that’s different though. I guess... I don’t know.”

“Different how?” Dustin demanded.

“How about because this is important. That’s how!” He said.

“Ok? That’s a good thing, Steve.” Dustin said, which even to his own ears sounded just a little bit demeaning. Maybe he did need to work on his tone…

“Is it? The last time I really thought there might be something there, it was Nancy. So of course, I manage to fuck the whole thing up. Because that’s my thing I guess.” He deflated. Then quietly, as though speaking to himself, he said. “Things were going so good too… I just had to start a stupid - “

He finally looked back up at Dustin. He closed his mouth and the far away look cleared. He shook his head, like was done thinking about it right now. Or at least done talking about it because he said,

“Henderson, what are you doing running around this early anyways?”

“Pft, what are you doing running around this early? You and Eddie. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping off your… illicit activities.”

Steve made a face. “No. Don’t call it that. I - we… called it an early night last night.”

“Figures. I’m headed to Eddie’s right now.”

“Ah...” He muttered to himself. He looked down at the flowers again and his shoulders wilted. Then he chucked them into the the passenger seat.

“Woah, man, careful with those.” Dustin scolded him.

“No, it’s fine. Look, I gotta go pick up Robin soon. We have a shift together later. See you around, man.”

Dustin frowned. Why were adults so goddamn weird? Is Dustin gonna start acting like this in a few years.

“Good luck.” Dustin offered, tilting his head optimistically. Steve just waved him off, still very obviously distracted.

“Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”

Dustin watched him climb into his car. Steve would figure it out. Dustin had faith in that, at least. He could have a thick skull, but give him enough time and eventually he got it together.

Steve drove off and Dustin started pedaling again, in the opposite direction, towards the Forest Hills trailer park.

Dustin was at the trailer almost till dinner time, fine tuning what will soon be the very first one shot, nay the very first D&D session Dustin will ever orchestrate. He can’t help violently oscillating between excited and nauseous, but Eddie’s advice genuinely did provide a solid foundation to work with.

Eddie even assured Dustin he’d act just as shocked as the rest of the party, gasping during the big moments. Stuff like that - even though he knew pretty much every story beat he had planned just from helping Dustin sort it all together.

They were just packing up to leave when the phone rang.

“Shit. Give me a sec. That’s probably Wayne.”

“He’s not at work?”

“A buddie’s house. He got the weekend off.” Eddie said, picking up the receiver.

“Munson’s Mortuary Services. You got the purse, we got the hearse. Are we picking up or dropping off, cause - ” Eddie cut out mid bit. He grimaced, looking back at Dustin. “I - uh, hey. Look this really isn’t a good - “

Dustin was only really half ease dropping as he tried to order his session notes correctly. Eddie was talking quietly for the first time in his life, holding the receiving close to his mouth, which was making it kind of difficult.

“No, it’s fine… I’m serious, it’s fine. Yeah, I’m sorry too…. Well, I was being an asshole. Look this really isn’t a good time…” Eddie glanced back over his shoulder at Dustin. Dustin tried to look busy. “Just, don’t worry about it, seriously…. Yeah. Sure, talk to you later, ok?” Eddie started to move the phone away before bringing it back to his ear.

“This week? I’m not sure… Maybe. I’ve just - I got a lot of stuff going on… I’ll call you… Yeah, bye.”

Eddie hung up, hand lingering on the phone for a long moment.

“Who was that?” Dustin asked, so casually it was probably immediately suspicious.

“Funny how you think I won’t make you walk home.” Eddie said, a bone dry threat. That roughly translated to, it was definitely totally my secret girlfriend. “Pack your shit, dude. I’m calling Wayne so you better be ready to go by the time I’m done.”

It seemed like Eddie took it to heart what Dustin said about them never hanging out anymore. That week, Eddie really seemed to be making an effort to start making time for him again.

And the rest of the party of course.

On Monday, Eddie suggested Hellfire (plus Max!) hit the arcade after school. He didn’t give them any quarters, but that was fine, they had enough loose change to have a good time. They’d just need to plan ahead and bring Steve next time.

After school on Tuesday, Dustin called to see if Eddie wanted to keep working on the one shot. Which he couldn’t cause Corroded Coffin had band practice.

So instead, he invited Dustin tag along. It came with the strict stipulation he kept his mouth shut, his ass glued to the couch, and he not try to touch anything, on pain of a swift and merciless death. But Dustin’s come to understand Eddie’s threats have a lot more to do with his penchant for dramatics than any honest hostility.

Eddie was just heading out the door when Dustin called so he said he’d come grab him from his place on the way to Jeff’s.

Dustin thought for a moment about changing out of his pun-derful shirt but ended up scrapping the idea for time.

He kind of regretted it when Eddie rolled up. Music loud and looking, as always, too cool for school. Summer was still fading, so he was wearing a loose, faded Cult shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had more tattoos than Dustin realized (all of them ugly.). There was a red flannel tied round his waist and he was wearing a thin leather bracelet.

Dustin couldn’t pull off a leather bracelet in a million billion years probably.

“Little mans sitting in on practice tonight.” Eddie announced as they walked into Jared’s garage. He got a scatter of hey’s and what’s up’s.

Dutifully, Dustin belined it for the couch. He sat next to the plastic Halloween skeleton that was already sitting there posed to watch (Dustin was introduced to him as Manny).

Eddie seemed to switch into DM mode, someone had to keep the boys focused and on track.

Dustin sat still and didn’t touch anything, which was easy enough.

But come on, their music was way too awesome for a passive listening experience.

Gareth, Jared, and Jeff seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm. Still, Dustin made sure to keep distractions to a minimum. A reasonable minimum, at least.

“God, you guys are just so - “ Dustin rambled. It had gotten dark outside and they were started to pack up their gear.

“Metal?” Eddie said, winding up his guitar chord with a smile.

“Metal as hell.” Dustin agreed, standing and walking over.

“We’ll make a public menace outta you yet.” Eddie said proudly.

“You can always bring the kid around more during practice.” Jeff said to Eddie. The rest of the band nodded around and shrugged.

“Actually having a live audience every once in a while couldn’t hurt.” Gareth said, nodding his head at Manny. Him and Jeff were dragging his drum kit back into the corner of the room.

“Yeah?” Dustin asked, grinning.

“Maybe you’ll pick up a thing or two.” Eddie grinned back, shoving at him a bit and fucking up Dustin’s hair.

“You’d teach me?” Dustin asked, swatting him away. Eddie shrugged easily.

“Oh man. That’d be so cool!” He said. “Maybe next time I could bring some of the other guys? Oh, and Steve could come too!”

Jared practically choked on his instant laughter.

“The King?” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, sure - you wanna bring King Steve here, to sit on the ratty couch in my garage and listen to us thrash around and scream for a few hours?”

“I dunno, could be pretty entertaining.” Gareth elbowed Jeff, nodding down towards Eddie. He was on his knees, focusing intently on tucking his Warlock away in its hardcase. Gareth leaned in closer and whispered. “He’s getting a little too cocky with those guitar solos, don’t you think? Could use a chance to play under pressure.”

“Oh, that does sound entertaining.” Jeff snickered, just as amused by the prospect.

“Can it.” Eddie said, without looking up.

“Eddie?” Dustin insisted, looking to his DM for backup. They were talking like Steve was gonna march in here and just start heckling. Or throwing tomatoes at them or something.

“Sorry kid, they’re right. He’d probably hate it.” Eddie shrugged.

“Come on, it’ll be cool! I could at least ask? You don’t know he’ll hate it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Steve Harrington would think our heavy metal band is so totally cool.” Jared said flatly, as he leaned over to grab the handle on his bass amp.

“Hey. I saw a Metallica tape in his car the other day!” Dustin said to Jared. Jared’s eyebrows climbed, surprised. Maybe even a little impressed, though clearly too stubborn to admit it.

Dustin turned back to Eddie. He was still expecting him to come to Steve’s defense. But he stayed quiet, barely a part of the conversation. “Come on, I thought you two were friends now.” He accused.

“Sure, Harrington’s fine.” Eddie shrugged.

“Yeah he is.” Jeff muttered under his breath. Gareth puffed up with a badly contained laugh.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Right, you blow us all off to go to go smoke weed with him at the drive through, but he’s just fine.”

Jared, who had been bending over to put his amp against the wall, froze in place.

“No fucking way.” Gareth’s head shot up, his eyes blown wide. But it didn’t sound like he was pissed at Eddie for crossing party lines. Not with the massive, disbelieving grin on his face. “You and Harrington? You fucking took him to a drive through?”

“What movie was it?” Jeff shot out, equally delighted.

“Was it a scary movie?” Gareth said. They both scrambled out from behind the drum set, their task wholly forgotten.

“Guys.” Eddie huffed. “Fine. Yeah, ok, we went to go see a movie - So what?”

“And you just, what!? Forgot to mention it?”

“Sure!” Eddie grimaced. He shrugged defensively. “We just - caught a movie. It’s not a big deal.”

Gareth barked out a laugh. Like that, that right there, is the funniest thing Eddie’s ever said.

“Guys.” Jared looked at Jeff and Gareth pointedly, before glancing at Dustin.

“Sorry it’s just…” Jeff paused with his mouth open, incredulous. “Didn’t know you guys hang out now.” He finished. “Ya know, outside the whole - coparenting.”

“We don’t.” Eddie said, tensely.

Dustin frowned as he watched the guys continue to stow their shit. Gareth and Jeff went back to sorting out the drums. “Not a big - “ Gareth scoffed under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

The rest of the boys were struggling to contain shiteating grins and Eddie was just pretending not to notice.

Dustin had never known these guys to be such… jerks. Why would it be such a big deal if Eddie and Steve were friends?

Could it really be all because they’re just so - different? The idea of hard rocker Eddie kicking back with a jock even once was just patently absurd? Ridiculous enough they jump straight to teasing him for it?

Dustin’s frown deepened. For a bunch of freaks, that all seemed pretty judgmental.

These guys would come around on Steve. Seems like Dustin would just have to make sure of it.

On Thursday Eddie agreed to pick him up from school.

He was late of course, so Will, Mike, Lucas, and Max had all started towards home by then.

When he did roll into the parking lot, it was in a sweeping wave of orchestral heavy metal.

“Pick it up.” He said impatiently, as Dustin opened the door. Eddie evil eyed the school building while he turned down the music. “Don’t like being here any longer than I need to be outside D&D hours.”

Dustin hopped in. He had a VHS copy of Jaws in his hands. He had left it behind at Lucas’ like two weeks ago and promptly forgot about it. A week later Lucas brought it to school and Dustin had only just re-unearthed it from his locker today. It was daunting just thinking of the fees that were sure to be stacking up by now.

His only salvation was Steve. Who’s thankfully working today.

“I need to drop this off at the movie store and before you say no - “

“Sure.” Eddie said, already starting the van.

“I - that was easy.” Dustin sat back and relaxed against the seat.

Eddie kept his eyes on the road and shrugged.

“I was thinking about renting something anyways.”

They drove straight to Family Video. The door dinged as they walked in.

Robin was sitting behind the counter. Still focused on her crossword she said, “Hi, welcome to Family Video, can I help you find - Oh, hey guys.”

“Hi Robin!” Dustin said, walking up to the counter.

Eddie lingered by the displays. He traced a finger over one of the tapes on the shelf. “Harrington, here?” Eddie asked, inspecting the cover.

Robin rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “You just missed him. It was seriously slow today and he won rock/paper/scissors so - he clocked out early for the day.” Eddie hummed and put his hands in his jean pockets.

Dustin handed Robin his VHS tape.

“This is eight days late.” She frowned at the computer.

“So - “ Dustin said, thinking fast to distract her from errant thoughts of late fees. “how’d you like the flowers?”

“Flowers?” Robin scrunched up her nose at him.

“The flowers Steve got you?” Dustin blurted out before he clamped his mouth shut again. She squinted at him. Suspicious.

“What are you on about?”

Shit. Steve hadn’t got those for Robin had he?

“Nevermind.” Mayday-mayday. Pull up!

Hopefully Steve wasn’t too pissed at Dustin for letting that little detail slip. And Dustin could barely feel bad for blowing Steve’s cover because, what the hell Steve?

Robin’s lip twisted. She looked down her nose at him, regarding him uncharitably. He forced a smile as she stared him down for a moment longer. Then her face cleared. Raising her eyebrows innocently she turned back to the monitor.

“So about that fee. That’ll be five fourty-“

“Ok! I - “ Dustin hesitated. Sorry Steve - that was five dollars he really did not have. “I don’t know. I ran into him a few days ago. And he’d just bought a big thing of roses.” Dustin caved, shrugging and holding his palms up defensively.

“Ooooh.” Robin’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile and her gaze slid somewhere behind Dustin shoulder. Then quickly snapped back into place.

“Oh.” Robin said again. She looked baffled, like the implications of that just hit her and clearly didn’t sit with her right.

“Maybe they were for his mom? His parents are in town aren’t they.” Dustin offered.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s probably it.” Robin nodded vigorously. The poor, love struck girl just immediately latching onto the explanation.

“Nah.” Dustin turned around to look at Eddie. He was still feigning intense interest in that copy of An American Werewolf in London. “His mom is allergic to roses.”

“That doesn’t mean he - ” Robin scrambled. “Maybe he just… forgot, or something. I mean, you know Steve. Total ditz.”

He shrugged. “That’s fine isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah.” Robin said cautiously. She seemed confused more than anything.

Eddie said cooly, hands still in his pockets. A perfectly neutral smile on his face. “Steve’s a free agent, right? He’s free to play the field.”

Jeez, did Eddie have to be so blunt? What ever happened to letting a girl down easy?

“Uh…” Robin said, looking between the two of them uncomfortably. Like maybe she didn’t quite know the answer to that anymore but it was also something she really didn’t want to sort out in public.

Dustin honestly felt a little bit bad for her. Sure they both always say they’re not dating, but clearly she seemed none too thrilled at the idea of Steve going around giving another girl flowers.

Dustin had hoped with the way Steve was talking the other day, he had finally got his head out of his ass and was ready to go public and make them official.

“Hey, man, I’ll meet you in the car, yeah?”

“Sure.” Dustin said.

“Eddie - “ Robin said. Eddie looked over his shoulder, lingering half way out the door. Robin glanced at Dustin. “Uh. Bye.” She finished lamely.

He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.

Robin went back to the computer. She worked in complete silence. Suddenly the thick clack of the keyboard and the low murmur of the movie on the screen in the corner were way louder. Her brow was set like it gets when she’s stuck on a troublesome crossword.

“Sorry.” Dustin said, his face twisting up with guilt.

Robin glanced side long at him.

“I can talk to him you know.” He said.

“Huh?”

“I can talk to Steve. He shouldn’t do that to you.”

“Jesus, for the last time. We - are not - dating.” Robin said through gritted teeth. She made a frustrated noise. “Do you have to be so… ergh, meddlesome.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lied, taking a step back.

“You need to stay out of your friends love lives.”

Yeah well, how about Dustin stops meddling when his friends stop being so dumb about everything. Till then they’ll just have Dustin to thank for sorting out their messes.

Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns-blog1 @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369 @rawrx3ky-txt @thespaceantwhowrites @blcksh33p1987

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@samsoble @depressed-freak13

[cuubism]

now, this one got REAL. unfortunately. do you want some angst (+hurt/comfort +fluff)

cw burnout, depression, animal death

--

It started when Jessamy died.

Or.

Well.

Hob is pretty sure it started when Dream was a teenager, if not even earlier. But it comes to a head nearly fifteen years later, when Hob comes home from work and finds Dream sitting on the floor by the couch, Jessamy held in his arms. She is still. And Dream is equally still, equally numb, staring off into space.

Hob knew it was coming someday soon. Dream had had Jessamy since he was twelve, when he’d found her as a kitten by the side of the road and somehow convinced his parents to let him keep her, so she was not a young cat, and while her health had generally been good she’d been increasingly tired and wobbly lately. And cats didn’t live forever.

She looks peaceful, there in Dream’s arms. It isn’t a bad death for a cat, Hob thinks, to curl up in a patch of sunlight on the couch and just not wake up again. Not that that will make Dream feel much better.

Hob sits down beside Dream on the floor. Doesn’t say anything, but lays his hand on Dream’s knee. Dream just keeps staring off into the distance, one hand lightly stroking Jessamy’s fur.

“She didn’t come to greet me,” he says, eventually, when they’ve been sat there for some time. “She always comes to the door.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Hob says.

Dream sits there for a long time, just holding her. Later Hob helps him bury her in the garden, then Dream goes upstairs and buries himself under the blankets in their bed and doesn’t come back out for the rest of the night.

Later Hob will think, that was the first domino to fall. Even later, he will realize it wasn’t the first, but the last.

~

Dream was often seen as stoic. Unemotional. Hob thought so too, when he’d first met him. But he’d quickly come to learn that the real Dream was extremely sensitive and had simply learned to keep all of that inside and present a functional front to the world. And Dream was, indeed, exceedingly functional. Not just functional, Dream was brilliant. He’d graduated top of his college, and he’d gone to Oxford, and then he’d launched a tech company, and even published a novel on the side simply because he enjoyed doing it. When it came to standard metrics of success, Dream was one of the most functional and successful people Hob had ever met.

And Dream was crashing.

~

Hob comes home from work a bit late one day to find Dream slumped on the couch, face pressed into a pillow. The TV is on, but he doesn’t seem to be watching it. There’s a book on the table beside him, but he isn’t reading. He’s just lying there. Listlessly.

“You alright, love?” Hob asks, and Dream just shrugs one shoulder under his blanket.

“I fell asleep on the couch in my office,” he says, “so I came home.”

This immediately rings Hob’s alarm bells because Dream doesn’t do that. He doesn’t come home early from work. He barely takes a lunch break.

“Feeling ill?” Hob asks, perching on the couch beside him.

Dream shrugs again.

“Want some dinner?”

“I suppose.”

He’s barely looked at Hob. He’s not even budged from his sprawl on the couch. But when Hob gets up to get dinner, Dream reaches out, snags a hand in his sleeve, squeezes once and lets go.

Hob leans down to kiss his forehead, and Dream sighs.

Hob brings dinner back to the living room a half hour later, and Dream sits up with him and eats but barely says a word. He listens as Hob talks about his own day but barely contributes beyond brief answers to Hob’s questions.

After dinner he lies down with his head in Hob’s lap and goes quiet again. Hob is starting to get worried, but he gives him the benefit of the doubt. It could just be an off day.

Dream falls asleep in Hob’s lap, and then later gets up and goes to bed at barely 9pm despite how he’s normally a night owl.

“Dream?” Hob says, before Dream retreats to their bedroom. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I am just tired,” Dream says.

Then he sleeps for ten hours and wakes barely early enough to get to his office on time. And doesn’t seem particularly concerned about it. Then again, Dream does own the company, and can hardly fire himself for being late. But he’s normally much more particular about it.

Then it’s an off two days. Then it’s an off week. Then it’s an off two weeks.

Hob comes home from work and, instead of finding Dream back on his laptop doing more work, or working on his novel, he’s just lying in bed with the covers over his head. Earbuds in, listening to music or an audiobook. I’m tired, he says when Hob asks. I don’t feel well.

Do you want to work on your novel? Hob asks. Usually cheers you up.

Dream’s novels are an escape from the stresses of his other work. He’d published the first one under a pen name so it would have no connection to his company or anything else about him. He’d been so proud when it hit the bestseller list.

No, Dream says. I don’t care. It’s meaningless.

Worry is starting to sit heavier and heavier in Hob’s chest.

Hob’s known for almost as long as he’s known Dream that Dream struggles with a latent, underlying level of depression, but it’s been well managed thus far and he’d thought Dream had found an equilibrium with it.

Apparently it was a much more fragile equilibrium than he’d realized, because now everything seems to have tipped and flipped over.

At first he thinks Dream isn’t doing anything about it. But then Hob learns that he is, and that almost feels worse, because now Hob doesn’t know where to even start helping him. Dream has already taken medication for years. He’s recently increased his dose and it’s done nothing. He already sees a therapist. He’s started going twice as often as he did before and still nothing seems improved. He hasn’t pulled away from Hob. He still curls up to him in bed at night, and lays on the couch with his head on Hob’s lap while they watch TV. He lets Hob drag him around doing things he thinks might cheer him, like walks in the park, feeding the pigeons, going to the botanical gardens to look at flowers. If Hob cooks something, he’ll eat, but he makes no effort to eat otherwise.

He goes, he does things, but he isn’t there. He’s checked out, distracted, and his smiles are hollow.

Hob watches him pick up books he would normally love, read one page and then put it down again. Watches him abandon the newspaper crossword puzzles he usually likes to do over breakfast after solving only one or two questions. Watches him get dressed in the morning, putting on his usual all-black attire with a mechanical precision that suggests he’s operating on autopilot and not thinking about it at all. He just doesn’t seem to care about any of it, and Dream normally cares so much about everything that it’s really starting to freak Hob out.

Hob asks him if he’s okay and he says he’s just tired. Hob asks him why and he says he doesn’t know. And the worst part is, Hob believes him. He doesn’t think Dream does know what’s wrong. It’s not just grief for Jessamy that’s doing it. Hob thinks it’s more that Jessamy was a tiny piece of a support structure that was far more meager than either of them realized, and now all the rest of the heaviness has come crashing down. That doesn’t mean Dream has the words for what any of that is, though.

Hob worries about him when he’s at work. He worries about him whenever Dream is out of his sight. He thinks about how relentless and intense Dream usually is and contrasts it with his current listlessness and he worries.

He thinks about Dream graduating university with honors while he built a whole fucking company in his dorm room and wrote the first half of a novel on the side, and he worries.

Dream had always made time for Hob then, too. And he always has since. Or maybe being with Hob was the sanctuary he carved out for himself amidst the whirlwind of all that he was.

Now more often than not Dream comes home and immediately collapses on top of Hob on the couch and doesn’t speak a word for a least two hours. Hob is just glad that, whatever’s going on, he at least isn’t fully isolating himself. He’s still coming to Hob for comfort, in whatever way he knows how.

The next time it happens, Hob messages Lucienne, Dream’s COO. In fact he does it from his phone while Dream is lying on top of him, and Dream doesn���t even notice.

Has Dream been alright at work recently? he writes.

Lucienne responds fairly quickly. She’s a bit of a workaholic, just like Dream. I am not sure he would want me sharing all his business without his knowledge.

Hob sighs. He supposes it’s fair that she’s protective of her boss. Lucienne. Come on. Please. I’m worried about him.

He seems tired lately, she writes, at length. And distracted.

Anything in particular going on?

No, if anything, we are in a bit of a slow down at the moment. There is not as much on our plates.

Odd.

Do take care of him, Hob, Lucienne adds.

Always will, Hob says.

He puts his phone aside, and pets Dream’s hair. Dream hums in pleasure, nuzzling into him. “Sweetheart. You want some dinner?”

“If you desire,” Dream says.

Hob’s not convinced he would eat anything at all if Hob didn’t push him.

“Come on, up, we’ll get something to eat,” Hob says, and Dream groans, but lets Hob maneuver him up, and sits placidly in the kitchen with the cup of water Hob pushes into his hands as Hob cooks. He is so placid, lately, in general. Hob is used to Dream being strong-willed and opinionated. It’s upsetting to see him passive.

All he can do for now, though, is take care of Dream as best he can. As he always does.

~

It hits a breaking point when Dream simply doesn’t go into work at all.

Hob is working from home that day, and doesn’t notice at first that eight o’clock has passed and Dream hasn’t left the house. At around nine he goes to make more coffee and realizes, suddenly, that Dream’s shoes are still by the door, his coat still hanging on its hook. So Hob goes to find him.

He finds Dream still lying in bed, not asleep, just sort of staring blankly at the wall, arms wrapped around himself. Hob lays a hand on his shoulder. “Hi, darling. You getting up for work?”

“No,” Dream says, flatly. “I cannot. I don’t want to.”

So Hob calls Lucienne to let her know Dream’s sick and won’t be coming in. He can hear her concern over the phone. Dream almost never calls in sick. If he gets something contagious, he just works from home instead of resting.

Maybe this is part of the problem. Maybe this is all part of the huge, looming cloud of pain that has apparently been covering Dream like a shroud for longer than Hob’s even known him without Hob ever truly seeing it.

When he puts his phone away and comes back Dream is still lying in the same position. Heart in his throat, Hob climbs into bed to sit beside him. “I told Lucienne you’d be out today,” he says gently. Dream turns over to face him, wrapping his arm around Hob’s thigh to pull close. That gives Hob some hope. That Dream still wants to reach out. “She was worried about you.”

Dream looks up at him solemnly. “And you?”

“I’ve been worried about you for a long time, darling. Talk to me.”

“I meant to go in today,” Dream says. “I have things to do. I suppose. But. I realized that I don’t care about any of it. I tried to remind myself how to care about it. But I could not remember. And so there was no point in getting up.”

“Perhaps you’re a bit stressed about it all,” Hob suggests, but Dream shakes his head.

“I do not feel anything about it at all. I think the company could disappear entirely in this moment and I would feel nothing but this... numbness. I ought to care. But I don’t. It’s meaningless.” He presses his forehead into Hob’s thigh. “I think it ought to scare me. But I don’t feel that either. I don’t feel anything.”

Hob breathes out hard. “Okay. Alright.” He pets Dream’s hair as he thinks. He doesn’t feel very equipped to handle this, but Dream’s regular therapy and meds don’t seem to be doing anything so he’s going to have to try. And if Dream’s regular routine isn’t helping then maybe it’s not his usual depression. Then maybe Hob can work out something to begin to help. “Maybe we need to take you on a very, very long holiday. So you can have a rest.”

Dream lets out a choked laugh, though when he speaks there’s no humor in it. “Hob. I think if I stop moving for that long. I will not get up again. So if you wish to have a functional partner, you may want to withdraw that suggestion.”

Hob feels his heart break in two. “What if I want an alive partner?”

“I am not planning to kill myself.”

“Recently it seems you’re well on your way to it, Dream.”

Dream is silent for a long moment, then says, voice cracking, “I am not trying to—”

“I know, I know, honey,” Hob slides down the bed to rest beside him, pulling Dream into his arms. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know any other way to be,” Dream cries, pressing his face into Hob’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, my love.” They have been together since university. He’s seen Dream go through bouts of depression before. But he’s never seen him like this. Fracturing at the seams. It’s frightening. “I love you so much, do you know?”

“I know.” He squeezes Hob close. “I do know.”

“I don’t care how functional you are,” Hob says, making a clear mockery of the word, and Dream laughs weakly. “I do actually like you, you know. You. Not Mr Great Tech Innovator.”

Dream groans. “Please do not call me a ‘tech innovator’ or I may have to actually kill myself out of shame.”

Hob remembers when Forbes had wanted Dream to be in their thirty under thirty issue and Dream had refused because he thought it was ‘stupid and self-aggrandizing’ and because he ‘didn’t put in years of work for the purpose of being on the cover of an insipid magazine.’ Hob loves this stupid idiot so much.

Dream doesn’t do any of it for fame. Hob doesn’t entirely know why he does it. He think maybe pouring all of himself out is the only thing Dream knows.

“When’s the last time you feel you got an actual break?” Hob asks.

Dream thinks about it. “Year 10,” he says at last. “I spent the summer holiday doing nothing but reading. It was blissful.”

“Dream, that was fifteen years ago."

“After that summer I was always working somehow. Doing advanced class prep work. Then university prep.” He gives Hob a sly sidelong glance, and despite the heavy topic, Hob internally cheers to see a bit of his humor come back. “Needless to say, I was not spending my free time partying when I was in school.”

No, Hob knew that about him. Dream is practically incapable of having fun. Even one of his supposedly stress-relieving outlets, writing, he’s managed to turn into a side career as an author. And Hob knows that, unless one is a verifiable genius, one doesn’t earn the perfect marks Dream had all through school without sacrifice. Hob had gotten good marks, too, but Dream had always been a step above.

And he knows Dream’s parents had always demanded utter perfection. Whether they ever rewarded him for any of it, Hob doesn’t know.

“Hey, darling,” he says. “You’re doing a good job.”

Dream whimpers, pushing his face into Hob’s chest.

“You’re doing enough,” Hob continues. “You’re doing so well. I promise. It’s all okay. It’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” Dream says. He clings to Hob, wrapping his arms around him, slipping one leg in between Hob’s thighs. “So much.”

It would be easy to feel insecure around Dream’s level of success, except that Dream’s love for Hob is so obvious. To Hob it is, at least. Dream cares for him so deeply, in his way, and he never acts like he thinks Hob is lesser for not being someone Forbes is pursuing for their lists. If anything, Dream usually discounts his own success, and is, generally speaking, obsessed with Hob and everything Hob does.

This is also a visceral reminder of the costs of this type of success.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he says, rocking Dream in his arms.

“I have been feeling. Somewhat unwell, recently,” Dream admits. “Increasingly so. I suppose I ought to be grateful, in a way, that my mind forced me to shut down before my body did.”

Hob’s not sure he himself feels quite grateful about it, but he is glad Dream at least recognizes the problem.

“We’ve just got to send you to the seaside for your health,” he says.

Dream laughs, genuinely this time. “Truly.”

“Get you a little break. It’ll help, I promise. You’ve just been over-working yourself, hm?”

“I do not think it is my current level of work that is the problem,” Dream says. “I think. I have been running so long. I simply cannot anymore. Effort, itself, is not a problem for a marathon runner. But duration eventually becomes exhausting.”

“I know. It’s okay. Might need a bit longer of a break, is all.”

“I do not know how,” Dream says.

“You let everyone else at work take breaks, don’t you?”

“I used to not,” Dream says. “Not enough of them. Until Lucienne made it quite clear that I was being unfair to them. I was not trying to be. I was simply… used to my own work patterns and did not realize the strain it was putting on them.”

“But you changed it,” Hob says. “You can change it for yourself, too.”

“Perhaps,” Dream says.

“Hire someone who can do some of your tasks and then give yourself a little break. Go somewhere warm and sit on a beach and drink sugary cocktails.”

Dream laughs. “I don’t know if my brain is suited to that.”

“Exactly why you should do it.”

“Will you come with me on this… health retreat by the sea?” Dream asks, some humor back in his voice.

“Course. I’ll take a sabbatical and go with you. But also. Do you think you might want a bit of time to yourself?”

“By myself?” Dream questions. “I do have time to myself. I am already quite solitary.”

“I know. But. Do you think you’d want a bit of extended time to just do what you want to do?” It would hurt, to be away from Dream for an extended period of time. But he wants Dream to have that, that freedom to be completely unburdened, to have no expectations, if it will help him.

“Hmm.” Dream considers. “Perhaps a bit. But I like to be with you.”

“I like to be with you, too, my love. Think about somewhere you’ve always wanted to go. And we’ll go. Or if you just want to rest here, that’s fine, too.”

“You don’t have to do all this,” Dream says quietly.

“I want you to be well,” Hob says. “More than anything, I want you to be well.” He kisses Dream’s forehead. “Besides if you don’t think I’m already imagining us on a beach—”

Dream laughs. “I see.”

“Come now, you want to see me shirtless, don’t you?” Hob teases.

“I see you shirtless every day,” Dream says dryly.

“Don’t you want to get extremely drunk and naked and fool around in a luxury villa?”

“What counts as ‘extremely’ naked?” Dream asks. “Taking off my skin?”

“Dream.”

Dream chuckles. “I do. That sounds enjoyable. I would like to leave my laptop at home and perhaps wander around a seaside village, drinking wine until I have killed all of my brain cells.”

“Now you’re getting into the spirit of it,” Hob says.

“Hob,” Dream says, serious again.

“Yeah?”

“What if I take a break,” Dream asks, quietly, “And then I cannot convince myself to go back?”

There’s true grief in his voice, but still Hob counters, “What if you take a break and you feel better?”

Dream smiles, faintly, Hob feels it against his skin. “Always the more positive attitude.”

“One of us has to.”

“But what if,” Dream continues, “I take a break and I learn that I never wanted to do any of it at all?”

This is a stickier question. “Why would you have done any of it, if you didn’t want to? You must have wanted to on some level.”

“I don’t know,” says Dream. “It is just what I’m used to.”

“Maybe you’ll want to again,” Hob says. “Maybe you won’t. Can’t we take it one day at a time?”

Dream lets out a long, aggrieved breath. “You are so nonchalant.”

“Thought that’s one of the reasons you liked me.”

“It is,” Dream says, sounding incredibly frustrated about it. “Yet I do not understand it in the slightest. You truly just… have faith that everything will work out regardless?”

“I have faith we can figure it out,” Hob says. “And that I’ll always have your back. That you’ll never have to work through it alone.”

“You are a wonderful partner,” Dream says. Then, “I would like to go out tonight.”

“You… would?”

Dream nods. “I would like to remember what it was like when we first met. And I feel sorely lacking in romance and I’m well aware it’s my own doing. I know it may not feel the same right now but I want to... try. And. I miss you. Will you take me out on a date?”

Hob is thrilled by this turn. “Of course I will. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Can you also tell Lucienne I will be out sick this week and then hide my laptop and phone somewhere I will not find them?”

Hob laughs. “Alright, darling. Get some rest for today, hm? We’ll go out for drinks or something later. I have missed you. I’ve missed seeing you cheery.”

“‘Cheery’ may be pushing it,” Dream says, with a small smile. “However. I would like to have sex tonight.”

Hob bursts out laughing, not at the idea, but at the absolutely flat way Dream says it. He really does have a way about him.

“It’s been too long,” Dream whines.

It has been too long. “Oh, don’t think I’m saying no,” Hob says, and slips a hand up under Dream’s shirt to feel up his back. Dream laughs, snuggling closer to him. It’s so good to hear him laugh.

“Anything you want, anything that will make you happy,” he says. “I love you more than anything.”

Dream leans up to kiss him, long and sweet, then collapses atop him again, as he has nearly every day for weeks. Except this time it doesn’t feel quite so defeated. It feels like it could maybe be rest.

[revelboo]

I miss my husband Ratchet owo

Wasn’t sure which doc, so went with TFP

The Weakends Pt 8

TFP Ratchet x Reader

• Stretching slowly, it’s the feel of something heavy against your back shifting against you that brings you wide awake. Relaxing when you realize you’re sprawled inelegantly on Ratchet’s red and white chassis, his servos draped across your back. He’s still out as you lift your head enough to see his face and you rest your chin on him to watch him, unwilling to wake him. As exhausted as you were, he’d been nearly dead on his peds and he needs this. Always pushing himself, driven to take care of everyone else and neglecting himself.

• There’s a spot of warmth on him, something soft under his servos as he comes back online. Starting to sit up and catching you against him when you start to slide. “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever seen you recharge,” you say as he grimaces and wonders how long he’s been out. He hadn’t meant to rest so long, used to recharging in short intervals at his desk, sometimes drifting off while working on research. How long has it been since he’s had any significant rest in his actual berth? Usually his mind is too busy, keeping him wound up. But somehow having you there, feeling the beat of your heart kept him still. “You really need to take better care of yourself, doc.”

• You wait for the cranky grumbling, but he just touches a servo to the back of your head in a gentle bump as a rebuke and sits up completely, warm servos pinning you in place. “We need to check on Bumblebee,” he says, but he doesn’t move or shift his grip on you. Like he’s reluctant to start the day. Leaning against his warmth, you listen to the hum of his spark. Feel his servos flex against you before he vents tiredly and slides off his berth.

• “I don’t think I’ve been so mad at someone as I was at you,” you say as his peds hit the ground and he pauses to look down at you. Your little head is leaned against him, avoiding his optics. “Do you know how hard it is to see someone you care about just not give a damn about themself?” There it is, the root of your anger before. The truth. That it wasn’t his grouchy act that set you off, it was because of the way he pushed himself. Working himself to exhaustion again and again, because of course you’d noticed. Even knowing you, being around you, it’s so easy to forget how observant you are. Always looking to him.

• “I’m fine.” Liar. It’s pretty much what you expect from him, though, to play it off. Everyone else so much more important than his own health and happiness. You expect it, because you understand it all too well. It’s the same way you worry over those three kids, anxiety cranking you tight when they leave with the bots and you want to go with them to watch over them, because they’re just kids. And they’re so easy to overlook, a wrong step, a wrong move? You hate that they might be in danger. Wanting to take care of them and Ratchet, all of the bots. Because as dysfunctional as this is, it feels like a family and you want to protect that.

• “Yeah, so am I,” you mutter in a tone that clearly says that you aren’t. At all. He can feel those walls going back up, but admitting the truth? That he’s so tired of this war, of fighting? That he just wants something to break their way. A place to call home once and for all where he doesn’t have to watch friends die right in front of him. He can’t say those things. Not without cracking wide open, because that anxious worry is all that’s keeping him together. That and you.

Previous

[concreteangel92]

Bubble Baths & Blanket Forts

Noah Sebastian x female reader

No warnings, all fluff

So this idea was inspired by the lovely fluffy messages I had last week, in particular @lma1986 and @collisionsofyourkissmakeitsohard and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are 🖤

I still have a load of requests in my inbox and my own works to try and get through over the next few weeks. It’s been manic in my personal life recently so writing might be a bit slower, we shall see but as always, thank you for your support and patience!

Although I’m thinking a smutty part 2 of this could be needed 👀

Permanent taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls

Permanent taglist is new so if you wish to be added then let me know ☺️

Masterlist

It had been a bad day, a really bad fucking day. Everything that could have gone wrong, had gone wrong and you were so fucking done.

You’d been messaging your boyfriend about how shit your day was and how you couldn’t wait to get home and just curl up and forget about the world.

You walked up to the front door of your flat that you shared with Noah and put the keys in the door, thanking whatever god that was listening that you hadn’t dropped the keys because you knew that would be the cherry on top.

You opened the door and was immediately greeted by the most beautiful smell coming from the kitchen.

“Hey babe I’m home”

You threw your keys and bag on the side and hung your coat up, instantly feeling better knowing that you were at home.

You heard Noah’s footsteps coming from the kitchen.

“Hey beautiful”

You looked over and saw his smiling face as he walked over to give you a kiss and cuddle hello. You wrapped your arms around him and held onto him while you buried your face in his chest.

“I’m so glad to see you”

Noah kissed your head and squeezed you into him.

“Yeah you said it was a bad day today, want to talk about it?”

You shook your head.

“No, to be honest, I just want today to be over”

You pulled away and went to walk into the living room but Noah blocked your way and started to lead you down the hallway.

“You don’t need to go in there, I’ve run you a hot bubble bath so you can have a soak before dinner is ready”

You stopped and looked up at him in awe.

“Really?”

He smiled. “Really angel, I’ve just finished setting it up in there so go and relax and I’ll call you when dinner is nearly ready”

You leant up and pulled his collar slightly so he came down to your level for a kiss.

“You’re incredible do you know that?”

Noah had a playful look on his face. “I know, I’m brilliant. Now go get that beautiful backside of yours in the bath”

“Don’t fancy joining me?”

Noah smirked and gave you another peck.

“Not this time baby, tonight is all for you”

You smiled and turned towards the bathroom while Noah headed back off to the kitchen. When you opened the door, the sight nearly brought you to tears.

The whole room was illuminated by candles all around the room and around the bath. You could smell one of your favourite bath bombs coming from the water and you could see the steam still rising. You could hear your favourite music playing softly and folded up on the side was your comfy pyjamas, ready for you to put on after.

You stripped out of your clothes, tied your hair up and walked over to the bath, lifting one leg, you dipped your toes in first to test the temperature which was perfect and then you climbed in and lowered yourself down, not being able to stop the moan falling from your lips as the hot water instantly soothed your tense muscles. You let your body relax under the bubbles and shut your eyes.

You don’t know how long you stayed there for, it felt like an eternity before you were disturbed by a gentle knock on the door and Noah’s face coming into view.

“Hey baby, how are feeling?”

You kept your head rested on the back of the bath. “I feel so much better, thank you”

Noah smiled and grabbed a big fluffy towel and held it open to you.

“I’m sorry to say that you’ll have to come out now as dinner is nearly ready”

You nodded and reached down to pull the plug to let the water drain before you stood up, the bubbles clinging to your body.

Noah stepped forward and wrapped the soft around your body before he helped you step out.

“What’s for dinner by the way? I forgot to ask”

“Your favourite”

Your eyes lit up as you looked up at him.

“Steak?”

“Yes with all your favourites. Get yourself into your comfies and then meet me at the table”

You nodded, the smile not leaving your face, how could one man be so perfect.

You dried yourself off and got dressed, your body feeling so refreshed after such a bad day.

After making sure you blew out all the candles in the bathroom, you walked down the hallway and into the kitchen/dining area where you had the table set up.

All ready on the table was your dinner, which smelt absolutely divine and the table was set up with more candles and fresh red roses in a vase in the centre.

You honestly thought you could cry, Noah had thought of everything.

“I can’t believe you’ve done all of this”

Noah walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close into his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

“You said you had a bad day angel, I just wanted to make it better for you”

You leaned back into him, feeling so safe and secure in his arms.

“It’s incredible babe, thank you”

You feel him press a kiss into your hair and then he leads you over to the table, pulling your chair out for you and making sure you were comfortable.

The food was incredible, you both ate in a comfortable silence with the odd conversation here or there but mostly you were just enjoying sitting down together.

Once dinner was over and your food was settling, Noah cleared the plates away and came back over to you.

“I have one more surprise for you”

You looked up at Noah with a bemused smile “What? But you’ve done so much already!”

Noah gave you his million dollar smile and took your hand in his.

“I’ve saved the best until last”

Noah walked you down the hall and stood outside the living room door, now realising that he’d been stopping you from entering all night.

“Ok, close your eyes baby”

You smiled and shut your eyes. You heard him open the door before you felt his hands gently cover your face as he walked you into the room.

“Ready?”

You nodded my head, the anticipation running through your body as you heard him whisper “open” into your ear and he released his hands.

You opened my eyes and the breath was caught in your throat.

Noah had built a huge blanket fort around the room. Blankets all of sizes were tied to each other and hung up high to create a tent like den in the middle of the room and you could see fairy lights hung around the entrance.

“Oh my god Noah! You built this?”

Noah blushed and nodded.

“Yeah, I remember you said once that you used to build these all the time as a kid and loved hanging out in them, so I thought I’d bring that back for you”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you took it all in.

“Can we go inside?”

Noah laughed and wiped the tear away.

“Of course we can angel, this is all for you, we can shut the rest of the world out in our fort, no problems allowed in”

You laughed and hugged him tight, feeling his arms pull you closer to him.

“You’re perfect Noah, you really are”

You grabbed his hand and went over towards the entrance, Noah lifted up the small blanket that he’d used as the ‘doorway’ and you saw inside that he’d used even more blankets and loads of pillows to cover the floor and he’d even hung fairy lights inside to give a beautiful glow and made it all warm and cosy.

You crawled in, feeling Noah right behind you. You could just about sit up inside, Noah definitely struggling more due to his height so you lied yourself back amongst the pillows and curled yourself up into Noah’s arms.

“This is the best night ever”

Noah smiled down at you, you felt him absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair or over your back.

“I’m glad you like it angel, I hope I’ve made your shitty day better”

You lean up and press your lips to his.

“What shitty day?”

His smile matched your own as you both got comfortable, getting lost in the conversation and feeling safe within each other’s arms, knowing that nothing could prenatal your very own little fortress.