#obviously I can’t bc I don’t have the money

[rexxdjarin]

Sigh.

[capetowncapers]

Kamala Harris really said omg nooooooo I love Gen Z I LOVE them! 🥺 I speak to them on college campuses all the time! 🥰✨ I just also think they’re completely naive inexperienced stupid dumb dumb little babies who know nothing of the world and don’t understand that sometimes you HAVE to actively fund the bombing of civilians bc there’s no other choice your hands are tied 😪 we would love to stop the violence! ☮️🙏🕊️ but we have no other choice no power there’s nothing at ALL we can do 😔 Love Gen Z tho ❤️

[steviescrystals]

thinking about colorado again send help

[sodacowboy]

fan is on three feet away from me and I can still hear the fizz of the energy drink like a foot and a half away from me

[bongjuiceconcentrate]

.

[johndonneswife]

are you and Ayesha planning on having kids? 🥺

nope never ever!

[i-luvsang]

i hate being on the verge of tears in public !!! and it’s about fucking kpop i need to get a grip!!!!!!!$;73&38&2$.!’$/$3!/‘j$€{€!{£&jhhdjdhwijwgeieiehhejeiddggdneiwiwhuwjeieuebidnejskaowhhrbdieiruruidieieiehndozi&$:$£7:)3&k$$;$&jhdhiahJh

[fiuorescentbeige]

hm

[s0m3thingp3t]

Man I’m so tempted to jump on the train near my house and just see where it goes one of these days,, I won’t but my god I want to get out of the house more I hate being cooped up here :((

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[epsilontauri]

.

[itneverendshere]

Bartender reader :) reader and Rafe get in a fight and it’s a big one (while they are living together) and reader needs some space and decides to sleep on the couch/guest bedroom but Rafe completely forgets about the fight once he realizes what she’s doing and puts his foot down “you can be mad but you’re still sleeping in this bed” kinda deal?

i feel like their fights never last bc they can't be away from each other that long and bc they're just too disgustingly in love🙂‍↔️ thank you for the request!🤎

i would never do you wrong- r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: a little angst at first, but happy ending obviously.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands gripping your phone a little too tight. The conversation you had been having for the past hour felt like running headfirst into a brick wall—no, arguing with a brick wall.

“I don’t see why this is such a big deal,” Rafe groaned, like a toddler, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’ve been working nonstop. You deserve a break.”

“A break?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Baby, I just got promoted. I can’t take time off like that.”

“You’re acting like this job will disappear if you take a week off. I’ve already planned the trip, I’ve already talked to Ward. You don’t even have to worry about money—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut him off, standing now, your body vibrating with frustration. “You don’t get it! This promotion means everything to me. I worked my ass off for it. And now you’re telling me to throw that away for a vacation?

“I’m not telling you to throw anything away, baby. God, you make it sound like I’m asking you to quit.” Rafe crossed his arms, his brow furrowed, and looked at you like you were the unreasonable one, like you'd just insulted him. “It’s just one week. We can afford to relax.”

“Yeah and what about the wedding? If we’re gonna pay for it, we gotta save up.”

He let out an incredulous laugh, his head shaking like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You do remember I’m rich, right?”

You blinked, stunned. “Seriously? That’s your solution? Just throw money at it?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s not what I meant. I can pay for the wedding,” he interrupted, stopping in his tracks. “You’re forgetting I have more than enough money to take care of both of us.”

You closed your eyes for a second, breathing deeply. “I don’t want you to pay for it all.” You were pacing now, “It sounds like you think we can just forget about budgeting and responsibilities because you’ve got a trust fund.”

Rafe threw his hands up, exasperated. “I’m just saying we can afford to take some time for ourselves. You don’t need to stress over every little thing.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning sharply to face him. “I’m not ‘stressing over every little thing,’ Rafe. I’m being realistic. We have a wedding to plan. We’ve got bills. I’ve got my career to think about. And no, I don’t want your dad’s money involved in any of that.”

“We have an entire year to save up,” He stared at you, a steely glint in his eyes. “So what? You’re just gonna run yourself into the ground? Burn out completely?” 

Your jaw clenched as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m doing what I need to do. I’ve always done that.”

“And I’ve always been here to help you. But it’s like you don’t even want it.”

“That’s not what this is about,” you argued, stepping closer to him now. “I don’t want to be dependent on that money. I don’t want us to start our marriage with me feeling like I’m just along for the ride.”

Rafe’s face hardened, his lips pressing into a thin, flat line. “So what? You think I’m trying to make you feel small? Like you can’t handle your shit?”

“No. I just want to build something with you. With you, Rafe, not because of Ward’s money.”

He looked away as he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, the muscle moving under his skin as he swallowed whatever hot-headed thing you knew he felt like saying. Then, with a frustrated exhale, he said, “It’s not like I wanted to rely on him either. But I’m trying to make things easier for us.”

“And I appreciate that, I do.” You sighed, taking a breath. “But this promotion... it’s my chance to prove myself. I want to know that I earned everything we have. Not that it came from someone else’s checkbook.”

Rafe’s eyes moved to yours, and you could see the tension still there. He slowly let out a long breath. The air hissed softly between his teeth as his chest fell, shoulders sagging “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“I learned from the best,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

He let out a bitter chuckle, it didn’t hold any joy. “I’m not trying to control everything. I just want to make sure we have time for us before everything else gets in the way.”

You nodded, “I know. But you can’t just expect me to drop everything and go on vacation because you’ve already decided it.”

“I thought you’d want to spend time with me,” he argued, “I’m trying to make time for us, and you’re treating it like it’s a problem.”

You sighed for what it felt like the millionth time that night, rubbing your temples. “It’s not that, baby. I want to be with you. You know that. But I can’t ignore everything else that’s going on.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say. Finally, he muttered, “Fine. If you don’t want to take the time off, then don’t.”

You blinked at him, taken aback. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re making it seem like I’m asking for something ridiculous.”

You scoffed, frustration taking over again.

“Because to me, it is ridiculous! You don’t get it. You don’t have to think about whether you can afford to take time off, but I do. You’ve never had to think about that stuff.”

His face tightened, jaw clenching as he stared at you like he was trying to stay calm. “And that’s why I’m telling you, you don’t have to worry about it. I’ve got us covered. You’re acting like I’m trying to sabotage your career.”

“You’re not listening to me! This promotion isn’t just a paycheck, it’s everything I’ve worked for. I’ve spent years proving I’m good enough, and now you’re asking me to step back like it’s no big deal.”

Rafe crossed his arms, his posture stiff, defensive. “I’m asking for one week. One. Fucking. Week. You act like the world’s gonna end if you take some time for yourself.”

“Because for me, it doesn’t stop! You don’t understand what it’s like—”

He cut you off again, you hated when he did it. “Don’t. Don’t stand there and tell me I don’t understand. You think I don’t get what it’s like to have shit on the line? I’ve been under pressure my whole life.”

You flinched at his words, your eyes narrowing. “This is different. I’ve always had to make sure I could take care of myself.”

His laugh was bitter, almost sarcastic. “Is that what you think this is? You’re my fiancé.”

You frowned, feeling the hurt in his words, but you couldn’t let it go. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m in your shadow, like I’m always gonna be ‘Rafe’s wife’ instead of my own person.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Because every time we talk about this, you make it sound like money is the solution to everything. Like we can just throw cash at our problems and they’ll disappear.”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you, his expression darkening. “Because it fucking helps, okay?”

You pinched your eyes closed, “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t lose myself in all of this.”

He let out a harsh breath, his shoulders tense. “Lose yourself? You think I’m trying to take that from you?”

“No,” you whispered, wiping at your eyes. “But it feels like you don’t get why this is so important to me.”

“Are you serious right now?” he cut you off. “You know what, do whatever you want. I’ll just cancel the trip.”

“Rafe—”

“Forget it,” he said, already turning away, heading for the door. “Goodnight.”

He didn't even slam the door.

You sat down on the bed, your head in your hands, trying to calm down. You glance at your phone, thinking about texting him, apologizing maybe. But you weren’t ready for that yet. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed to get out of your own head, even just for a little while. You couldn’t stand being in the same room after that argument.

Without thinking much more about it, you grabbed your pillow and the spare blanket from the closet, making your way toward the living bedroom. The couch in there wasn’t as comfortable or as big, but it would give you the distance you needed for the time being. You were pulling back the covers when you heard your bedroom door creak open. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. 

He couldn't stay away longer than five minutes.

“Really?” His voice was low, almost disbelieving. “You’re gonna sleep in here?”

You stayed facing the bed, not turning to look at him. “I can’t do this right now.”

There was a pause, and then you heard him step closer. “No. That’s not how we’re doing this.”

You frowned, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you can be pissed at me. You can need space, fine. But you’re not sleeping in here.” His voice was firm, and when you finally turned to look at him, his blue eyes were locked on yours, unwavering.

“Rafe—”

“I’m serious, baby." He moved closer, gently pulling the blanket from your hands. “You’re mad. I get it. But you’re still sleeping in our bed.”

You shook your head, trying to push the blanket back toward him. “I just—”

“No.” His voice softened, but he was still insistent. “I’m not letting you run away from me. We’ll deal with it. But we’re not doing this. You’re not sleeping alone.”

You looked at him and saw the same tiredness, the same frustration, in his face. He held your gaze for a moment longer before reaching out, and taking your hand in his.

“Come on. You belong in our bed.”

There was no fight left in you as you let him pull you back down the hall, back into the warmth of your shared space. As you settled beside him, Rafe reached over, his hand finding yours under the blankets, he traced small, absent patterns on the back of your hand, like you weren’t fighting just ten minutes ago.

He sighed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I already know you’re capable of handling anything.”

“It’s not about proving it to you,” you admitted, “It’s about proving it to myself. I need to know that no matter what happens—good or bad—I’ve earned it. That I deserve it.”

Rafe was quiet for a couple seconds, his eyes stuck on the ceiling. Then, his grip on your hand tightened slightly,  “I hate this,” he muttered finally.

You turned your head to look at him, “Hate what?”

“This.” He gestured between the two of you with his free hand. “Fighting like this. Making you feel like I’m pulling you in two different directions. Like you have to choose.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not making me choose. I just, I want to build something for myself.”

He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head.

“You think I don’t get that? You think I’m just some spoiled asshole who’s never had to work for anything?” He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you more directly. “But I do get it. That’s why I’m trying so hard to be what you need me to be.”

Your heart twisted at the look on his face. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face.

“Every time I look at you,” he murmured, his gaze softening, “I see everything you’ve done to get here. Everything you’ve pushed through. And it kills me, because I feel like I’ve just been dead weight. You spent months holding me together when I was falling apart. I could barely get out of bed some days baby, and you were there, making sure I was eating, making sure I was taking my meds, making sure I didn’t—I know how much you gave up for me.”

“Baby, stop,” you mumbled, the hurt in your chest almost unbearable. It hadn't been easy, but you didn't regret a single thing, wouldn't change anything. You'd do it all over again if you had to.

“No.” His voice was firm, “I hate that I put you through that. That I made you carry all that weight when you should’ve been focusing on yourself, your career. Hell, I wasn’t even there for you when you got promoted, because I was too busy trying to keep my shit together. And now I want to make up for that.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek, feeling the way his jaw unclenched under your touch. “You don’t have to make up for anything. You were going through something, and I wanted to be there for you.”

“I know you did,” he said softly, “But that’s why I’m doing this. I’m trying to be the guy you deserve—the guy who makes things easier for you, who makes you feel like you can breathe again.” He shook his head, teasing just a little, “But every time I try, it feels like I’m just reminding you of all the ways I’ve let you down.”

You blinked back the sudden tears. “You haven’t let me down. I need to find a balance. Between us and—” You gestured vaguely around you, trying to explain everything you were feeling. “And everything else.”

“I get that,” he murmured, leaning in closer until his forehead rested against yours. “But I also need you to let me in. Let me help you. Not because I want to throw money at it, but because I love you, and I want to see you happy. Not burnt out and exhausted.”

His voice broke a little on the last word, and you felt your initial stubbornness crumbling. “I know,” You squeezed your eyes shut, “I know. I just don’t want to lose everything I’ve been working for. I don’t want to get so wrapped up in us that I forget who I am outside of this.”

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his fingers brushing along your jaw.

“You’re not going to lose yourself, okay? Not with me. You’re always going to be you. Even when you’re stressed and stubborn and driving me up the wall.” His lips quirked in a small, sad smile. “I’ll still be here. I just want to have a little time with you before life pulls us in a million directions again.”

You leaned into him, pressing your face against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his chin resting on top of your head. It wasn’t that you didn’t want his help. You just needed to do this one thing for youself. You moved closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered earnestly, “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I don’t want to spend time with you. I do. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

You didn’t want to fight anymore. You wanted to figure it out. You wanted to compromise, because that's what you two always did.

“I’ll take the time off,” You felt him move beside you, his eyes on you now, curious but cautious. “But… I need a little time. Can we plan the trip for a couple of months from now? Once things settle down with work?”

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his eyes searching your face. “You’d do that?”

You nodded, lifting your head. “I know I’ve been all over the place about this, but I get that we need time together. I just can’t drop everything right now. But in two months, I’ll be ready. We can go wherever you want.”

A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He shifted onto his side, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” you said, smiling back at him. “We’ll go. No work emails, no distractions. Just us.”

He let out a breath he’d been holding, his fingers tracing along your jaw. “Two months, huh?”

You looked up at him, rolling your eyes lightly. “Yes, two months. And I’m going to hold that ‘no work emails’ rule, for you too.”

He chuckled, his lips curving into a genuine smile this time. “I figured.”

You swat at his chest lightly. “I’m serious. I want this trip to be for us. I need it to be something that we’re both looking forward to—not just you dragging me away because you think I’m overworking.”

“I know. I promise when we do go, it’ll be perfect. Wherever you want. No distractions.”

“Good,” you whispered, resting your head back on his shoulder. You listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. This was the peace after the storm, the moment when everything felt like it was falling into place again.

Rafe’s hand gently traced patterns on your arm, and he pressed a soft kiss to your head, “I’m proud of you. For everything. The promotion, the way you’ve been handling all of this. I’m proud to call you mine.”

Your heart squeezed at his words, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you, baby,” you murmured. “That means more to me than you know.”

He smiled, “Just don’t ever think you have to choose between me and your dreams, okay? I want you to have it all. I want us to have it all.”

You nodded, the last of your resistance melting away. “I know. And I want us to have it all, too. Together.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, “Good,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “’Cause I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

[bettysupremacy]

omg I have an idea (you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to) and I have to put it somewhere.

so rafe is this like super mean, big guy right? wrong. imagine r touching him and he just freaks out because ??the love of his life is touching him?? and r just giggles bc of the effect they have on him

This is suchhhhh a cute idea!! i ❤️ rafe. I hope you like this!! I don’t know if he did much freaking out, but she does much loving on him.

“I told him forty.” Rafe grumbles, fumbling with a pack of camels. His big hands rip at the new packaging frustratedly. He gives up and uses his teeth.

Topper winces. “That’s what told him.”

“So what’s the fuckin problem.” Rafe looks up, spitting plastic.

His knee bounces under the white country club table. “He wants a discount.”

“Bullshit.”

“I know,” he breathes. “So I told him,”

“You’re not giving him a discount.”

Topper laughs nervously. “If you’d let me finish-“

“He’s gotta perfect amount of his mommy’s money to be spending on drugs.”

“Exactly-“

“You don’t give figure eight kids discounts.”

“Rafe,” Topper starts, frustrated with his lack of sentence.

“Rafe!” Your voice echos outside the private room excitedly at the same time. He sits straighter, smile fighting his face at the shriek of his name. Toppers still here. Rafe’s stoic.

Top sighs exasperatedly, leaning back in his chair. He’s not finishing that sentence.

The door flings open, your hand tight on the fancy handle. “Rafe.” You bounce. He watches greedily over you, this doesn’t deter you. “Guess what.”

“You’ve waited too long to give me my hello kiss?” He taps his pen against his thigh, elbows resting on the chair.

“No, silly,” You laugh, airily walking over to him to plant a kiss on his cheek. He swerves, smiling against your lips instead, reveling in your laugh as you pull away. His arms wrap under your butt. “Sarah’s having a party tonight.”

Tops eyes flit up curiously.

“What?” Rafe’s face drops.

You squeal. “We have to go.”

“It’s my house too, babe, I think I’ll be there against my will.” His eyes flit to Topper.

“Not at your house.” You pout, pushing his hair back. His eyes fight against fluttering closed. “Joint party, Scarlett’s house.”

“Oh, we’re not going.” He decides, squeezing the flesh of the back of your thigh.

“What,” Topper laments, no mind of his own. If Rafe’s not going, obviously he can’t go. You both ignore him.

“Please, Rafe.” You whine, E’s extended longer than Top thinks necessary. You walk behind him to grip his shoulders.

He short circuits. You’re warm behind him, the perfume you spritzed this morning making its way to his nose. You knead your fingers into his back. Digging into the tense muscle he tries so hard to relax around you.

“Baby,” He grumbles, wary of your hands on his shoulder. “That shit’ll be so lame.”

You sigh working deeper into his muscle. “You know I love Sarah.” Then afterthought. “And Scarlett.”

He holds back a noise at your thumbs pressing into his back. Grabbing your wrist, his warm fingers press into the tender skin they find.

“Can’t see you.” He murmurs.

You round the chair, sitting on his lap. His arms wrap around you heavily and securely. He bounces his knee a couple times as you brush hair out of eyes, both wary of Top three feet away. “Better?”

He grunts a nod, smiling at you brilliantly. “So much.”

Your hands card through his hair, raking gently against his scalp. His hair is soft, clean, the smell of his shampoo hitting you easily. You tug, gently, his hair back, till he’s looking up at you lazily.

“You know you have hazel in your eyes?”

His demeanor changes. “Stop.”

“Im serious,” You laugh, head tilting to the side to eye Topper. “Someone’s cranky.”

“I am not cranky.” Rafe scoffs, unable to bring your hands from his hair.

“Then play nice.” You whisper, cool air fanning Rafe’s face. “Let’s go to the party.”

He frowns, overly aware of your dancing fingers. “You know what you’re doing.”

“If loving on my sweet boyfriend was a crime-“ you start.

“Then you’d be in jail by now.” He finishes.

“Exactly!” You grin, leaning down to kiss his jaw. His eye twinkles. “Let me love on you in public.”

He scoffs softly, bouncing the knee you sit on. You squeak at the sudden movement, turning to laugh prettily in Toppers direction. He can’t help but to smile through his annoyance.

“What d’you think, Top?” Rafe sniffs at the way you’ve worked him.

“Well,” He starts in the shifty tone of his. “Uh, I think it’d be good-“

“He wants to see your sister.” You laugh.

“Y/N.” The younger boy glares pointedly across the table. “Seriously?”

“I don’t give a shit who Sarah’s doing this week.” He gruffs out. You push his shoulder.

“Be nice.” You whisper.

Rafe rolls his eyes, big hand splaying over your face and pushing away from him.

“Hey!” You muffle as he smiles.

“You wanna go?” He looks at Top.

“I guess.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

Rafe snorts at him. “Cool.” He lets up on your face. “We’ll go.”

“Yay!” You jump, wrapping your arms around him. He leans into the touch, uncaring of the company.

What a simp, Rafe sulks.

[teapartyprincess4two]

Shopaholic- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Shopaholic!reader x boyfriend!Chris

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, established relationship, high maintenance reader, some suggestive content, sexual comments but no smut, small argument, slight cursing, shopping addiction, consumerism, hoarder tendencies, Chris can drive in this (bc I feel bad for him)

summary: No matter how hard you try, you just can’t stop swiping your card.

—

Your shopping addiction began innocently, just you and your friends occasionally going out in search of a new outfit for a party or special event. Slowly it became a hobby and you were spending multiple weekends at the mall trying to find something new. After a while it became your job and you were posting fashion videos on Instagram for other girls to follow and selling clothes on Depop for people who wanted to dress like you. Then it became an addiction, all you wanted to do was swipe your card and you couldn’t stop.

You’re currently on one of your many shopping sprees with your boyfriend Chris who you’ve dragged along against his will. He loves spending time with you, but he really, really hates shopping. In his opinion you do it too often and spend too much money, but he’s not the type to yuck anyone’s yum. Shopping is also socially draining for him, every time he joins you he finds himself dreading every second of it.

He stumbles behind you as you enter the 10th store of the day, his hands struggling to hold all the bags you dumped on him. “Y/n, let’s go home!” He groans, adjusting the bags further up his arm. You ignore him, going straight towards the back of the store where the clearance is. Just cause you love to shop and spend money doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate a good deal.

Chris groans and trudges behind you, accidentally knocking over some of the displays as the bags swing back and forth. He remembers a time when you weren’t such a shopaholic, a time when spending time with you meant going to the movies or out to lunch. Now, ever since gaining this new hobby, all you two seem to do is shop.

“Look at this, Chris! It’s so cute!” You exclaim, holding a red top against your chest so he can imagine you in it. He can’t help but roll his eyes, “you have that exact top already.” You huff, looking at the top again. “Oh you’re right,” you put the shirt back on the rack and continue looking for the next item you’ll add to your closet.

Chris watches as you struggle to find something new, probably because you have everything already. “You have all of this stuff already, babe. You don’t need anything else,” he says, attempting to lead you out of the store, but you’re strong willed and extremely determined to find at least one thing.

“I haven’t checked over here though,” you respond, walking in a completely opposite direction from the exit. He groans in annoyance as you disappear to the back of the story again. He gives up, there’s obviously no getting through to you. So, he sits on a bench outside the store as he waits for you to finish.

Chris occupies himself on his phone, completely surrounded by shopping bags full of clothes that you were sure to only wear once or twice and then resell on your Depop. After 30 minutes you walk out of the store with another 5 bags in hand, a huge smile on your face as you walk over to Chris. He wants to facepalm at the sight of you because he still doesn’t understand your obsession with spending so much money.

“Okay I’m ready to go home now,” you say with a smile, standing in front of Chris as he grabs all your previous bags. Once he gets up, he gives you a quick peck on the lips and immediately leads you out of the mall and to the car. If he takes a second longer you might second guess it and enter another store. He absolutely couldn’t bear the thought of another hour shopping.

Once you’re finally at the car you both load your bags into the trunk, it’s so overfilled that you struggle to close it. You get frustrated and get in the car, allowing Chris to deal with the problem. He’s a little annoyed, but he’s mostly glad to be going home. He works his magic, moving some bags into the middle seat so he can properly close the trunk before hopping into the drivers seat.

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” He asks, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the busy streets. “Yeah, I can eat,” you reply, messing with the radio as you connect your phone to the car’s bluetooth. You were grateful that your boyfriend was so willing to spend time shopping with you despite it being his least favorite thing to do. So, you play his playlist for him in hopes that he won’t be too annoyed with you. One of his favorite songs blares loudly through the speakers immediately causing him to bop his head as he merges through traffic.

Chris turns the radio up, belting the lyrics to every song by heart. He is singing at the top of his lungs, looking towards you as he dedicates the lyrics of the love songs that play. You laugh, singing along with him when you know the words. Finally, he pulls up to his favorite restaurant, kissing you sweetly once the car is in park.

“We ate here last week,” you comment, grabbing all your things and shoving them into your purse. He sends you a warning look, a look that says ‘don’t start with me.’ A look that says, ‘I just spent hours carrying around your bags, let me have this ONE thing.’

You get the hint and put your arms up in defense, “You’re right sorry, babe.”

—

After eating, the two of you head back to your apartment. You work together to carry in the multitude of bags you accumulated throughout your shopping trip. Considering how late it is, most people would just dump everything near the front door and leave it for another day. Not you though, you’re too excited to try everything on.

Once you’re in your room, you immediately take everything out of the bags excitedly. Chris watches you attentively from your bed. You look like a kid on Christmas morning. He looks around your room, fully taking in the amount of things you’ve collected ever since acquiring this new hobby. He wouldn’t categorize you as a hoarder, but he can definitely tell that you have a shopping problem.

You sprawl all the clothes out onto the floor, crumpling bags and receipts in the process. Chris decides this is the perfect time for an intervention, “Y/n, you have too much stuff.” You look up from the piles of clothes in front of you, sending him an ugly look, “Chris, there is no such thing as too much stuff.” He rolls his eyes at your sassy attitude, getting up from the bed and walking over to your closet.

Chris opens the closet door dramatically, the slam of the door ringing through your room. Your closet is filled to the brim with clothes, shoes, purses, and you even have boxes labeled with seasonal clothes. “There is such a thing,” he retorts, not even looking into your closet because he knows his point has been made. You knew you had a problem, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from spending money when you found something cute.

“Babe you haven’t even worn half of this stuff,” Chris comments again with a laugh as he begins flipping through your closet. To be fair, you were extremely organized to the point that it felt like he was in a department store, but that still didn’t justify the amount of things you had. “That���s not true! Plus I’m selling some of it… eventually,” you mutter the last part, mostly because you don’t want to get rid of anything yet. “When was the last time you wore this?” He asks as he takes a random shirt off the rack, holding it out for you to see.

You get up from the floor, yanking the shirt from him dramatically. “I wore this on our first date,” you lie, trying to act offended. He rolls his eyes again at your attempt to pull at his heart strings, he knows you’re lying. “Y/n that shirt literally still has the tag on it,” he tugs at the tag, wagging it in your face. You could fool anyone, but not Chris. He knew you well enough to realize that you had a problem.

“Whatever, but I’m still going to wear it soon. I just haven’t found the right time. Plus I kept the tag on in case I want to sell it on Depop,” your words come out a mile a minute as you try to justify this addiction that’s gotten out of hand. He knows there’s no winning with you, especially not when shopping is involved, so he just sighs dramatically and goes back to his spot on your bed.

After a while Chris becomes occupied by his phone, not interested in the previous topic anymore. Since he’s not pestering you anymore, you try on all the clothes you purchased today. Occasionally you’ll ask him for his opinion on something, but he just gives you half-ass replies. Even if he thinks you look great in everything you try on he doesn’t say it because he can’t encourage this behavior or you’ll never stop.

“I’m tired,” he yawns, kicking his shoes off and turning his phone off, placing it on your bedside table. He has to balance it on top of all the other trinkets on your table. Chris was hoping you two would do other things tonight, but you were too distracted by all tour new stuff to care about him. “Sleep baby, I’ll be done in a bit,” you reply as you organize all the clothes into your closet.

Chris groans in annoyance, grabbing some of his spare clothes from one of your drawers. Even his drawer was filled with your stuff. Granted this wasn’t his house, but it was the singular drawer he had for himself here. He quickly changes, throwing his dirty clothes in a random corner of your room before going to the restroom to brush his teeth.

When he returns he finds you dressed and ready for bed. “You finally done being a princess?” He asks playfully, wrapping his arms around your waist slowly so he can pull you into him. You roll your eyes as you drape your arms around his neck, “a princess’s job is never done.” Chris chuckles at this, leaning in for a kiss.

—

“The movie starts in an hour,” Chris says as he walks into your room, taking a seat on your bed. You’re currently doing your makeup, adding all the finishing touches. “I’m almost done, I just have to do my hair,” you reply, popping your lips as you apply a thick layer of lip gloss. You’ve been getting ready for hours, how is your hair still not done? “It looks good like that, babe. C’mon we’re gonna be late,” he replies in a whiny tone as he attempts to convince you that the movie was more important than your hair. In his opinion it actually looked good, but he knows you won’t be easily swayed.

You give him a blank stare through the mirror, “Chris I CANNOT go like this.” You pick a few strands of hair up, shaking them in the air. He laughs at this, deciding to just let you have your way. “Fine, but be quick please.” He gets up for your bed, walking over you and kissing your cheek quickly before heading back to the living room.

After another 30 minutes you’re finally done, tugging your shoes on quickly and grabbing your purse as you rush out of your room. Chris was waiting for you patiently in the living room, the amount of patience that man has for you is astonishing. He takes a quick look at you and before you can ask if you look okay he says, “you look sexy, let’s go.” Of course he means it, but he can’t gush over your appearance for too long or you’ll miss the movie. You roll your eyes, following behind him as he rushes to the car.

You arrive at the movie theater 5 minutes before the movie starts, grabbing a bucket of popcorn and a large drink to share as quick as possible before rushing to find your seats. Despite the lack of time management on your part, Chris is still excited to be doing something that doesn’t involve walking around the mall for hours on end.

“You good?” Chris whispers to you during the middle of the movie, popping a couple of pieces of popcorn in his mouth. You hum in response, leaning in for a quick kiss. He tastes like salt and butter. When you break from the kiss he smiles at you before turning back to the movie.

In reality you were really bored. Chris chose the movie and has been excited to watch it for a long time. You wanted to protest and suggest a different movie, but he’s always putting up with your nonsense so you decided to let him have this one thing. You watch as the characters on screen engage in dialogue and you have no idea what the context behind it is. You look back at Chris, hoping to catch his attention, but he’s too immersed in the plot to notice.

You huff in annoyance, turning back to the screen and attempting to enjoy the remainder of the movie. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to find the movie interesting. Before you know it your hands begin to wander onto Chris’s thigh, lingering there for a while before slowly inching up towards his crotch. He sends you a warning look, squeezing your hand and placing it further back up his thigh. You repeat your actions, but are met with the same response from Chris.

Another huff of annoyance leaves your mouth. You’ll just have to watch the rest of the movie and pretend you know what’s going on.

—

The movie ends and Chris looks like he’s just watched the best thing on Earth. “That was such a crazy ending,” he comments, standing from his seat with the popcorn bucket still in hand. You grab the drink and do the same, holding his hand as he leads you out of the theater. “Who was that big guy? The guy at the end,” you ask, tossing the soda away.

Chris halts in his steps, turning towards you in shock. “The main character?! Y/n were you even watching?!” He exclaims in disbelief, the whole movie was about that specific character. “Oh right,” you reply, pretending to remember the entire plot of the movie. Chris gives you a dumbfounded look, tossing the popcorn bucket away. You smile at him, he definitely knows you weren’t paying attention throughout the entire movie.

He holds your hand as he leads you towards the car, both of you getting in and deciding on your next destination. The night is still young and you’re really hoping that Chris will take you to a new store you heard about. "Baby, there's this new store I heard about on TikTok. Do you think you can take me?" you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes and everything.

It doesn't work, "Y/n, no."

"Pleaseeeee. I promise I'm just going to look around, I won't buy anything, I promise," you plead as he pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving home. He doesn't budge so you decide to pull out the big guns, “I’ll suck your dick.” This seems to do it because he changes direction before replying with a quick, “fine.”

You’re now in the store, your eyes lighting up at the racks of clothes in front of you. Now that you’re in here you regret promising not to buy anything, it’s not like he expected you to keep that promise anyway. “I’m gonna go this way,” you say excitedly, dragging Chris along with you as you head towards the back of the store.

As you look through the racks of clothing, Chris is talking nonstop about the movie. Occasionally you’ll reply, but you don’t remember enough details about the movie to say anything worthwhile. You’re obviously not paying attention and after a while he becomes annoyed, “Y/n, are you even listening?”

You hum in response, adjusting the stack of clothes that was resting against your arm. “I am, baby. Keep talking,” you reply haphazardly, adding yet another shirt to your growing pile. Chris glares at you, but decides to continue sharing his thoughts on the movie.

You’re still not paying attention. He’s asked you at least 5 questions and has received nothing in response, not even a hum. “I’m going to wait in the car,” he says annoyed. You look up at him briefly with a small smile, “okay, babe. I’m almost done.” Chris rolls his eyes as he walks out of the store and to the car.

After an hour you’re finally done, walking out of the store with 3 bags full of clothes. Did you need any of it? No. Did you want all of it? Yes. You tap on the car window and signal for Chris to open the trunk. He complies with a straight face. You dump all your bags into the trunk before hopping into the passenger seat.

“Thank you for waiting,” you say, going in for a quick kiss. “Mmhmm,” he replies as he dodges you causing your kiss to land on his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently.

He doesn’t hold back, he doesn’t have to with you. “You know what’s funny? How I always do what you want to do and the one time we do what I want to do, the ONE time, you can’t even be bothered to pretend to care.” You two don’t make a habit of arguing, but your recent behavior has gotten out of hand. He feels like you’ve been so selfish lately and he has to get everything he’s feeling off his chest.

You’re about to reply, but he’s not done, “For once it would be nice if my girlfriend treated me like her boyfriend, not like a fucking butler. You only want me around to carry your damn bags and swipe my damn card.” That last part wasn’t true, you never asked him to buy you things, but the thought of him as your butler was slightly amusing.

You decide to stay silent, wanting to see how he really feels. “Like, can you at least try to pretend to care about what I have to say? You weren’t even listening to me in there! I get it if you’re bored, Y/n. I really do,” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “But don’t you think I get bored following you around the stupid mall all the time? That’s all we fucking do!”

You open your mouth to speak, but he still isn’t done, “It’s not like you need any more stuff anyways. You literally have a problem, Y/n!”

The car goes silent for a while as you wait just in case another rant was coming. It would be easy to get offended at Chris’s little outburst, but you understood where he was coming from. He was such a great boyfriend who always worked towards keeping you happy and you were ignoring him in the store.

“Are you done?” you ask with a small chuckle.

“Are you done?” he mocks. “Am I done? Yes im fucking done.”

The whole situation seemed ridiculous, especially considering that you two never argue. If this is the biggest problem in your relationship, it’s an easy fix. “I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t care,” you start, pausing in case he feels the sudden urge to interrupt. He looks at you expectantly, he knows he deserves an apology and if he deems it good enough then maybe he’ll apologize for being so harsh with you.

“Next time you don’t have to come shopping with me if you don’t want to and if it makes you feel better, I’ll stop,” you say, feeling a slight pain in your heart at the thought of never shopping again. “It would actually,” he mumbles with his arms crossed over his chest. He would never actually make you stop shopping, you were spending your own money and he had no right to tell you what to do with it. You chuckle at his sassiness before continuing, “and you’re right, I don’t need any more stuff.”

“Yeah, I am right.”

“Alright you’re pushing it, buddy,” you chuckle. He looks at you as he tries to hold in his laughter. “I was a little dramatic, sorry,” he admits, offering you an apologetic smile. “A little? You called yourself my butler.” He laughs again at this, but he goes back to his serious tone from before as he says, “Y/n, you actually have a problem though.”

“I know,” you reply in defeat. “Here just take it,” you hand him your wallet, looking away dramatically.

“I’ll hold onto this for safe keeping,” he jokes, putting it in his pocket. You were sure to go through his things later and find it anyways. He knows this won’t last and that’s okay, your shopping addiction isn’t actually harming anyone.

“As you should, my butler. Now take me home,” you command with a clap of your hands. He laughs, putting the car in drive. “You’re going to call me that from now on, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

This was sitting in the drafts for a while.

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[mushimatsu]

jeweler headcanons

now that i've posted my jeweler translations i wanna post my headcanonssss

The stories don't really have a lot of substance to them. Basically they travel through portals called GATEs and it seems like it's for the purpose of traveling to alternate universes where the objective is just to give each Totoko of each universe a pretty gem. They run a shop together in a back alley of Akatsuka ward.

However the Hesokuri canon is kind of nothing and gems and minerals have been a huge interest of mine for months soooo I wanted to expand on that

Osomatsu

He’s got a loupe in his attack art which i think is soooo cute but there’s like a 7/10 chance he would scam you I think. Now there’s a chance he’s just looking through the loupe to make it seem like he knows what he’s doing and he’s bullshitting you but I prefer to think he actually does know his shit and knows what he’s talking about and how to spot a real gem bc ummmm it’s hotter that way.

In my heart I want him to be an honest, trustworthy man. I want to tell you you're safe buying things from him but it's osomatsu......

HOWEVER I think if he does sell fakes, he does have quite a few of them. A lot of glass filled rubies that he sells at the full price of a genuine Burma ruby, imitations and synthetics that are not disclosed as such, and he also doesn’t usually disclose any treatments. Although I don’t think his standards are Quite so low that he’d sell straight glass. But if you give him a good gem to appraise he’ll try to buy it at a lower price and sell it at a hell of a markup. Perhaps the real, high quality gems are only saved for Totoko?

He’s got the charisma to trick a lot of people into buying something that is not worth nearly as much money as he’s asking for, and is probably smart enough to be able to tell when a buyer knows their shit and when he can and can’t get away with bullshitting them. Probably makes conversation first to get a feel of how much you know.

Obviously he still takes on that "leader" role among the brothers. Like they all own the shop but maybe if you ask for the manager, he's the one that'll show up?

Mostly sells faceted gems that are not yet set in jewelry. Doesn't have any rough stones or mineral specimens, and might carry jewelry sometimes, but not much.

Will sell to anyone, but I think his clientele is usually like, the casual jewelry/gem consumer. Doesn't appeal to mineral collectors very much, and will sometimes sell to very very rich people but not often.

It's also shown in the story and his art that he will just shove the gems in his bag carelessly. No wrapping or special packaging, I guess he just throws them in there (which can cause scratches, fractures, and breakages among gems, especially of varying hardnesses)

The gems mentioned in the story are emotites, originally from Pazzmatsu, but I think he also deals mostly in red gems, particularly rubies, but of course he's got stuff like spinels, fancy sapphires, tourmalines, etc

Karamatsu

His attack shows that he only has jewelry, but it's jewelry made of all different types of gems so he may not focus on one particular type like Osomatsu. It also seems to be very big, extravagant statement pieces. In the story he's also shown at what looks like very expensive rich people parties, so while Osomatsu is more geared towards selling to the general public, Karamatsu may specialize in very very rich customers. Also explains why he's dressed so well lol my mans so put together.......

His personal favorite is probably sapphires, or some other blue stone. PERSONALLY. I think his favorites are specifically star sapphires. look at these

I think he’s honest enough that he’s the most reputable of the six to buy from. I think he’s about as skilled as Osomatsu, if not more, when it comes to identifying and appraising gems, but he’s not Perfect so he’s bound to make mistakes and maybe there’s some misidentified things in the mix. But I think he’s like 2/10 most likely to scam you. If you get something you didn’t expect he probably just genuinely didn’t know lmao he somehow doesn’t look as shady as the rest of them so I think he’s probably involved in reputable circles, sells to people that know their shit and doesn’t try to prey on those that don’t know anything.

He also properly packages and cares for his gems, he's not careless like Osomatsu. Also probably something required of him if he's going to be selling to a very wealthy clientele

Choromatsu

This guy will fucking scam you he is going to tell you shit that just straight up isn’t true. 9/10 chance you are not getting what you asked for. I went to a gem show in may with my friend and I saw a ‘gem’ that looked like fordite - which is tumbled paint scraped off the bottom of ford car factories. Very pretty but absolutely not a real gem, it's paint. I held it up and asked what it was - expecting the answer to be fordite - and he said some other name that I forgot but upon googling it its basically the same thing as fordite and this mfer said “and that’s naturally occurring!” do you think I am fucking stupid. anyway that’s the shit jeweler choromatsu tells you.

In the story and his art he's shown selling amulets of some sort, and he tries to sell one to Dekapan that's meant to increase libido and claims it's got something to do with cavemen. Despite him only being shown selling amulets, I do think he has small specimens and loose stones. just for me

look hes such a FREAKKKKKKK i need him bad

He does Have real gems in his collection, but you can’t trust anything he says about them. He’ll try to pass off any fucking green thing as emerald yes he will sell straight glass. It’s a grab bag of anything. He tells some kind of made up story about the history of it, usually full of some kind of mysticism and what it could bring you. He knows a bit about how to identify a real gem but isn't as skilled as his older brothers.

He also seems at least a little disorganized, what with the amulets hanging on the inside of his jacket and all. It's a system that's organized enough at least that someone unfamiliar could figure it out, but it's also a little bit of like "I know where everything is" kind of a deal

Ichimatsu

His art makes it look like he digs up his gems himself, just cause the gloves and backpack and hat and map makes me think he's out in the field and stuff

The umbrella and blanket sale in his attack art also makes me feel like he’s not As shady as choro but is probably trying to sell them as like “this stone will cure your anxiety” type stuff.

His items are most likely genuine but overpriced. I get the vibe that maybe he digs a portion of his stuff out of the ground himself and is more of a traveling salesman kind of a thing. So part of the stuff he sells is stuff he dug up and cleaned himself and some is stock that he bought from others. But because of this, he's decently good at identifying more common minerals, like the kind you'd find at these spiritual shops. Maybe not that great with rarer minerals, though.

Most of his stuff is likely rough pieces, although I'm sure he has polished points, worry stones, those things carved like hearts.

6/10 likely to scam you just based on the fact that a 2 inch chunk of low quality amethyst is not worth $30 fuck off. he’s essentially the same as any overpriced metaphysical spiritual shop that sells crystals in the shape of penises for $20

I think he does know his shit in terms of scientific information, but he's selling them on the basis of like crystal healing and shit. He also doesn't know that much about crystal healing though he makes up the meanings whenever you ask

Jyushimatsu

the big bag and devious hat and cloak makes me think he stole that shit lmao

He looks like he has a citrine geode in his attack (natural citrine is actually quite rare, a lot of citrine on the market is heat treated amethyst) also it's fucking HUGE so it would be pretty expensive.

I get the vibe that maybe he steals expensive shit like big statement pieces? I don't know. I dont know ......

In the story it seems like he can appreciate both rough and polished stones. He might lean a little more towards rough specimens, but it sounds like he's quite happy with either one

As a salesman I think he's a bit more trustworthy as well? He was trying to sell something to Hatabou in the story but in his own Jyushimatsu way I have trouble truly understanding him.....

Todomatsu

His art and costume makes him look very well traveled, I like to think that he mainly collects rough mineral specimens, usually very rare and expensive collector's minerals. He's got the super niche expensive stuff that the average person doesn't know but that collectors would pay thousands of dollars for. In the story he also mentions picking something up from a mining location, which tells me he's taking shit that's coming straight out of the ground rather than stuff that's already been processed in some way.

Very very knowledgable about his stuff. His clientele is also very niche, like Karamatsu's, because the main people interested in his stuff would be people that are already into mineral collecting.

He's less likely to scam you solely because the people he sells to are usually skilled enough to be able to tell the difference between something real or fake, or an imitation. He has a reputation to uphold, so he can't risk ruining that.

[its-time-to-write]

I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night  

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet. 

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee. 

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”  

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says. 

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants. 

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard. 

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone. 

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out. 

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table. 

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad. 

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says. 

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod. 

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say. 

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says. 

“Brill,” says Jamie. 

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket. 

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale. 

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again. 

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out. 

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red. 

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question. 

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him. 

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’” 

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house. 

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs. 

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly. 

You find him sitting under the tree. 

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt. 

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks. 

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his. 

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion. 

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him. 

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding. 

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here. 

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.  

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side. 

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him. 

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great. 

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe. 

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains. 

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family. 

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks. 

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca. 

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly. 

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles. 

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.  

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy. 

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling. 

They might know this from personal experience. 

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing. 

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you. 

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings. 

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once.