the-mom-friend-dot-com

Latest Posts by the-mom-friend-dot-com

I am a dreamer and I always will be. I've been told that dreaming won't get me anywhere but while my childhood ends, my dreams do not. Now that I'm graduating soon I can't help but dream of my ever so near future. I dream of getting into that college. Of graduating with flying colors and making it into med school. I dream of getting that big time job that so many dream of. I dream of the big time life and living comfortably. I dream of being the best. I dream of showing just how good I can be. I dream of showing them that yes that potential they saw is there and I have embraced it. in fact, I've overcome it and am more than they ever thought I'd be. I dream most of making my parents proud. I dream my hardest that I do enough. To prove to them that their baby girl can do it. That I can manage in this crazy world and can strive above the normal. That I can make my dreams and their dreams come true. And yet despite this, I dream like the little girl I am. Truly I dream not of the high life, not of becoming the doctor I always said I would be, but of becoming a mother. I dream of becoming a wife. I dream about coming home to a loving husband, a loving pair of arms to curl into when the world knocks me down again and again. I do not dream of a big house with a big pool and piles of money, but instead a love that I can not measure. Though I will admit a nice house and land would bring me some sense of happiness, I would simply be better off with a man to call home instead. A strong pair of arms to fall into and a smile to match the warmth I would feel when I am near him. I dream of the ups and downs because I know it will happen and I do not fear because I know it would be meant to be. I would know we would fight for each other and be there no matter what. And more than ever I dream to be a mother. I dream of coming home to small voices and even smaller footsteps. I dream of the moment I find out and the fear and excitement that will race through me. I dream of every moment, no matter how big, small, exciting, or scary because it will only happen once. I do not fear birth because what truly is more beautiful than bringing a life into this world? I do not fear it because if I have truly found my husband he would be there. He would help me through the pains and struggles and oh how I would love him. I may not know it all but I know how just enough to make me waiver in fear. I know it would be hard and I know I may not feel like I could do it but oh how it would be worth it. To have my own child to love and care for. Oh how I would give my world for my baby. I want nothing more to be a mother. To give the love that I have always gotten from my mother. I dream of the moment when I would take my sweet little bundle home and I would cry. I dream of the many milestones and more. I dream of the temper tantrums and the long nights. I dream of the little giggles and the loud cries. I dream of being woken up at night by my child like I had done to my own mother. I dream of a love so large it's almost overwhelming. And I know life wouldn't be perfect. I know I will struggle and I know I may fail. Yet if I had just a glimpse of this life I would be okay. And I fear of speaking this dream aloud because in this world I'm supposed to want to strive above and beyond. I'm supposed to be strong and independent. Yet these are the dreams I dream of as I near my last few months of my childhood. I will strive for one path yet yearn for another. I will strive to be the best and strive to prove myself and make them proud. I will do this because I know a dream is a dream. I know I may not get what I want so I will go on. For what truly is the dreams of a seventeen year old girl than just that. A dream.

My favorite mug is a pearlescent light pink mug. It used to have the word barbie on it in the classic font but it peeled off after two washes. only I use it and I still keep it even after it's "messed up." I like it cause it makes me feel like I've embraced my femininity that I've rejected since I was a little girl. And I say this not because I have to or was forced to or any reason, simply because its me and always has. I've always been a dreamer, always yearned for the soft pink glow of a sunset and the dainty flow of a dress in the wind. I do so many things that aren't "girly" but it's the simple things for me. Wearing a bow every once and awhile, all my lipglosses that I have too many of, my few dresses that I adore but can't find a time or event to wear them to. Things like that. Pink was my favorite color as a young girl until I decided that it was simply too girly for me. Yet now, years later, it has become my new favorite color and I'm happy about it. It's showed a change in me. I've embraced who I am. I'm happy now and life is so wonderful. I find the hope in the bad and embrace the good. I keep the mug even after it's "messed up" because it shows the fragility of being that perfect dainty girl and the expectations. It shows me that even after it's "broken" it's never really gone. The beauty is still there although it's not perfect. And thats whats pretty about it. It'll never be perfect and thats okay. So I keep that mug to remind myself that it's okay to not be perfect. I keep it because it shows how much i've changed. I keep it because it makes me happy.

ain't you my baby?

word count: 4k ish pairing: din djarin x reader a/n: [old timey radio voice] interrupting your regular schedule of bat boy to bring you [does jazz hands] yet another man that could kill u! i will apologise for not updating wtssf and instead giving this but i do not control the brain worms <3 hopefully this is still tasty for sum of y'all ! title from NFWMB by hozier

synopsis: Din gives you an unexpected gift. A dagger crafted with beskar, a fine weapon, a courting gift. You misunderstand. It doesn't take long for you to catch back on. inspired by a convo with my beloved @djarinova

By now, the constant hum and rattle of the Razor Crest around you was nearly unnoticeable.

You travel enough light-years with one stubborn screw in your cot, almost always returning to the spacecraft with one injury or another, and eventually the low lull becomes something more familiar.

Almost, if you'd let yourself admit it, a comfort.

Sleep is funny on the Crest. You'd been a light sleeper for most your life and it had saved your skin more time than you cared to count. Yet, it was the simple knowledge that a Mandalorian roamed in the cockpit above that allowed sleep to drag you deeper than usual.

It had taken months to let your guard down, to realise there wasn't going to be blade buried in your gut as you slumbered defencelessly. In the safety of his company, for the first time in decades, you dream when you sleep.

He hates having to wake you, only doing so if it's absolutely necessary. It's always with the lightest of touches, the leather of his gloves pressing softly against your shoulder, your name murmured and diluted through the modulator of his helmet.

Despite his gentleness, it never stops you from jarring awake.

You shudder awake with a violent twitch, pressing up on your elbow in a split second, prepared to move. You're stopped from moving further by Din's hand on your shoulder. He's knelt beside your cot, visor fixed on you.

You're on a new planet. The foreign atmosphere gives that away in an instant, the chalky taste in your mouth and the swarming heat on your skin. Your jack-rabbiting heart calms a bit.

"Din?"

You know he's only waking you because he must. The momentary calm banishes again as you push yourself up again. Din lets you this time, his gloved hand retreating to his side.

"It's not an emergency." He says, knowing your train of thought already. He tilts his head slightly, gesturing towards the ramp door. "I need to leave the ship. I didn't want you to wake and..."

Your trailing gaze darts back to his visor quickly, swallowing as you fill in the end of his sentence. Din doesn't finish it, but his shoulders readjust in a minuscule motion.

"I'm getting supplies. Watch the kid. Please."

You're nodding before he's finished his sentence. The sleep in your system is already dissipated and you push up, shifting onto your feet and trapping your pained hiss behind gritted teeth as Din rises to his full height.

There's a beep from his valance as he punches a button then a soft hiss as the pressure changes, the ramp door beginning to lower.

It's habit to watch the sliver of the outside grow, the new terrain stretching out before you as the mouth of the ship opens. As expected, a seemingly endless spread of sand greets you. You wrinkle your nose.

Din hadn't indulged the reason or destination of this particular trip. You hadn't asked. A deep slice in your thigh courtesy of a vibroblade and a mouthy Twi'lek had kept you off your feet and eager to rest.

The slice had been by pure luck—or so you thought.

But Din's silence following the patch up in the ship, his quietness suddenly uncanny, left you beginning to wonder if he was questioning your ability to fight. Weighing up your ability to defend.

And if those things were up for debate, certainly so was your position on his ship.

It had just been passed 3 years, almost six cycles if you counted how time passed on your home planet, since you had joined his crusade. Your job had one very simple, very crucial objective.

An objective that was now babbling at your feet, tiny claws reaching out for you.

"Hey, you," You say, reaching down to scoop Grogu up into your arms. He reaches his arms up as he does, making a happy gurgle as you tuck him against your hip.

His round, dark eyes peer up at you, his big ears twitching mischievously and you couldn't help but smile. You turn so he could see the stretch of desert and are surprised to find Din still in the mouth of the ship. He's turned back, his dark visor giving away nothing of his expression.

It's then you get the feeling once more; you're being evaluated. Your usefulness being weighed up. You shift beneath the weight of his gaze, unmoving but still not speaking.

"Did you forget something?" You ask, just to break the silence.

Din finally shifts, his helmet giving a small shake in answer. He doesn't speak, just stares another moment, before he's turning, his cape catching the wind as he strolls down the ramp.

You watch him go, heart in your throat, pondering with an ache of melancholy if your time on the Crest was coming to a close.

Another burbling noise from the little green monster in your arm tugs your attention away. You look down, smile already pulling at your mouth at his clawed hand reaching for you.

"At least I know you still like me," You murmur, letting his cling to one of your fingers. "You wouldn't fire me, would you?"

Grogu makes a noise of agreement, gripping your finger tight. Then he opens his little mouth and tries to direct your finger into it, the clearest declaration of his hunger he can give.

You huff a quiet laugh, turning back to the ship, mentally tallying up your list of things to do.

—

By the time of Din's return, the sun has dipped low in the sky and the dunes glow a scorching orange in its rays.

You see him coming in the horizon, the only figure out on the desolate landscape. You wonder, for not the first time, if he's burning up beneath all his armour. He never seems to use the fresher to cool off like you do.

It's as he reaches the ship, his footsteps heavier than usual and betraying his tiredness, do you realise he's returned with a bag. Your eyes glue to in instinctively but you bite your tongue and swallow the burning question of what the contents of the bag is.

"Get what you need?" You ask instead, hands laying flat on your knees, avoiding the bandage on your thigh.

You're knelt besides the ship wall, sitting on your feet, one of the panels hanging haphazardly by a single screw and a box of tools beside you.

There's a function for cooler air on the Crest but it's been busted since a gnarly shoot up leaving the atmosphere of Coruscant months ago. You've been trying to fix it for weeks, each time with no avail.

Today is no different.

“You haven’t fixed it.” Din says candidly, instead of answering your question.

That suddenly familiar worry of your usefulness shirks up within you.

“Yet.” you counter, aiming for optimistic. It’s impossible to tell what the immovable expression of Din’s helmet means. “It’s not the same problem as I started with, at least.”

After a moment, he gives a short nod as if he understands — which is mean because there isn’t a single thing you can think of that Din Djarin is bad at. Besides talking to Jawas, of course.

He passes you and you force yourself to keep facing forward, even as you long to trail his broad figure. You squint at the tangle of wires within the panel and sigh. It’s feeling pretty fruitless. You were hardly a mechanic to begin with and—

A loud clatter beside you makes you startle, something heavy dropping into your toolbox.

You jump back and after a quick second, realise that it’s Din who had dropped something purposefully. Trying to calm your racing pulse, you lean forward and peer in.

“This might help.” He says.

You blink down at the new tool he’s given you. It’s the one spanner size that’s missing from your toolbox.

The last one had been lost when you lobbed it at an intruder’s head in a blind panic. Not your proudest moment— even if it did distract the guy enough for Din to put him down.

You swallow your heart in your throat. “Thank you.”

You don’t hear him retreat but the part of you that fizzles like a freshly born star when he’s near dims, a giveaway to his movements. You curl your fingers the new tool and try to tell if this a good sign or not.

Behind you, Din clears his throat.

You peer over your shoulder, your brows knitting together — it’s not often he calls your attention so forwardly, much preferring to stand and wait, staring long enough til you notice and flush.

He’s still standing in the hull, one hand curled around and holding the bag he returned with. You twist fully, letting him know he’s got your attention.

For a long moment, he doesn’t move. You stare, waiting patiently and try not to let your eyes roam—especially after the last comment he made when he absolutely caught you staring at the broadness of his shoulders, eyes drinking in the cut of his figure.

You’d be a terrible criminal, cyra’rika.

What’s that supposed to mean? You had retorted, flustering just a bit.

He had turned and fixed you with a tilt of his helmet that meant he was likely smirking underneath it.

You have shifty eyes.

Your face had glowed fiercely at the reminder that just because you couldn’t see his eyes, that didn’t mean he couldn’t see yours.

Across from you in the Crest now, Din coughs awkwardly.

“I,” He starts. One of his hands clenches, the leather crinkling as he does. “I have something. For you.”

Surprise piques up inside you, fiery and delighted. It warms your stomach and there’s no fighting the smile that pulls at your mouth even if you wanted to.

Gifts from a bounty hunter are few and far between and he’d already replaced the spanner. Your bounty hunter in particular doesn't like to spend his credits unwisely.

Even less commonly does he acknowledge that something is a gift—but you've learned to love the quiet hum he gives you when you thank him for something.

"Oh?"

He shifts his weight ever so slightly, the most obvious indication that he's nervous.

You sit up a little straighter. The anxiety from earlier pools in quickly.

He gives a tiny, almost inaudible huff and then, instead of reaching into the bag, he pushes back his cape and reaches back. His skilled hand unclips something sheathed at his waist. He drops the bag and steps forward, his hand outstretched.

You hold your breath without realising.

It's... a dagger, you realise.

A very beautiful blade by all standards. As you press up to your knees, rising to get a closer look, the details of its intricacy begin to call out to you.

The hilt is twined in a delicate, leathery fabric, not yet moulded to any hand. The pommel holds a promise of a shimmer as though it's embedded with a mineral. And the blade itself... A darker metal curls through the lighter one that encases it, like smoke on a sunlit sky.

It's expert craftsmanship, with a precise balance of two metals — and if you stare a moment too long, you swear the darker one matches the hue of Din's armour. His beskar armour.

"Will you accept it?"

It's with the gravel of Din's voice do you realise you haven't moved. You haven't reached out for it, haven't even blinked since he offered it out to you. You exhale, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded.

It's elegant beyond words. It's too much.

Too much for you, too much as a... a... What was it?

A gift? A reminder of your sole duty on the Crest? Of what you nearly failed at during your last mission together? The wound on your thigh seems to throb painfully as if in response.

He's never got you a gift that's anything less than helpful.

"I," You breath, finally tearing your eyes off the dagger and looking up at the visor fixed on you. "Din, I—"

Your gaze drops back to the blade in his hands. This time, you're certain it's beskar twined within the steel.

"It's very beautiful but..." I'm not worthy of beskar. "I couldn't, it's— it's too much. I can't accept it, Din."

The words come out clumsily and you wonder if in your attempt at being polite, you've gone too far in the other direction and offended him. You wring your hand against your thigh, pressing your knuckles into your wound. The pain dances along your nerves, a welcome distraction as you force yourself to meet his gaze.

The hum of the ship fills the space between you and like almost always, you have no idea how to read his silence.

"I understand."

And then he's stepping back, resheathing the blade into its holster in one fluid motion. He does it so quickly you don't see the tremble in his wrist, his hand just a touch unsteady. Above you both, there's a beep in the cockpit.

This time, you do manage to clock his body language, well aware of the way his guard has suddenly been wrenched up and the anxiety in your veins quickens with a sinister twist. Oh stars. You've definitely made it worse. You should've just accepted the dagger.

He turns and wordlessly heads towards the ladder to the cockpit and you watch him desperately, a dozen words caught in your mouth and none of them the right ones to say aloud.

"I—"

Din pauses, one gloved hand on the rung of the ladder, facing forward. He gives you a moment to speak. Your mouth dries.

When it's clear you aren't going to, you catch the slight sigh he gives, his shoulders dropping an inch.

"Grogu will miss you."

What?

You don't even get a moment to consider what he’s said or to digest the implications before he’s climbing the ladder, deft and quick. By the time you’re on your feet, the swish of his cape is disappearing into the hatch on the ceiling.

You stare at it a moment, all your unsaid words suddenly transforming into confusion. Your mouth opens then closes, your hands held out in front of you in evident bewilderment.

“What—” You begin as you take the rungs twice as fast, following Din’s path up to the cockpit. “—is that supposed to mean?”

You’re halfway up when The Crest suddenly lurches to the side with a rumble, the powering of engines thrumming beneath your feet and you stumble to catch your balance. Below you, you hear the familiar hiss of the ramp closing.

Stars, what is he doing? He hasn’t been this eager to leave a planet since a bounty back on Hoth.

“Where are we going?” You ask, forgoing your unanswered question. You shift forward as the Crest continues to rise with a powerful whirling sound.

Casting an eye at the passenger seat, you’re relieved to find it already occupied by your favourite green friend. Grogu coos in your direction at the sight of you and despite the situation, you can’t help but smile.

“I can take you wherever you wish to go.” Din’s flat response has your smile fading, your head whipping around to face him.

But he doesn’t take his focus off the control in front of him for a moment, stoic and silent as he continues to initiate takeoff. The Crest rises higher, the sandy ground of the planet out the window growing smaller and smaller.

Wherever you wish to go?

Does he— does he think you want to leave?

Your head spins in a tizzy as you try to clue together how the hell he had come to that conclusion. The Crest rocks as it breaks through the atmosphere and you stumble again, struggling to keep your balance.

For whatever reason he’s thinking it, he’s wrong.

Action finally possesses you. You surge forward and slam your hand onto the console, killing the power to the thrusters.

The ship stalls with a loud droning noise, coming to a shuddering stop before it begins to float in the darkness of space. The only light is the glowing orange of the planet and stars beyond the glass.

“Why do you think I want to leave all of a sudden?” You demand hotly.

For a moment, you think Din will continue the silent treatment that he’s all but mastered. His helmet, visor gazing out through the windshield, doesn’t move — until he tilts his head toward you slightly. He sighs quietly.

“I don’t imagine after…” He waves a hand idly and you scan his figure intensely, searching for what he could possibly be referring to.

After…?

It suddenly seems quite obvious.

Even if you had no idea what it had meant to Din, clearly this has to do to you turning down his gift.

“Din,” you say very quietly.

His helmet turns another inch, his chin tilted up to show he’s listening.

You swallow and it feels like your heart in is your throat, burning and bursting all at once. But you have to ask.

“What did the dagger mean?”

Now he averts his gaze, his helmet dipping as he mumbles something, nothing, his voice almost too low for his modulator pick up, a gift, but in the gravel of his murmuring, you hear one unmissable word: courting.

Oh.

Oh.

It was a… courting gift.

A dagger blended with beskar, given as a courting gift from a Mandalorian. It meant you- and him — the hope you had been harvesting, the hope of something more blooming between you two, it had not been unrequited.

Your mind casts back to the exact phrasing as you turned what you believed to simply be a gift too prized for you— it’s too much, I can’t accept.

Maker. No wonder he thought you wanted to leave.

Whatever is crossing your face must be the opposite of subtle because as you grapple to find a response to that, Din’s head tilts back up.

“You didn’t know.”

There's a tiny wobble of relief in his voice.

“No,” You breathe. Blinking hard, suddenly you feel a bit wild because Din all but proposes to you but doesn’t even think to check if you knew the depth of what he was offering? Of the real question behind his gift?

You shake your head. “No, I didn’t know, Din.”

Silence lulls between you, charged and heavy. Even without seeing his face, you know Din must be squirming beneath his helmet — his intentions, his feelings, out in the open and you still staring at him speechless.

You manage to find your voice.

“May I see it once more?”

The request comes out softer than you intend, your courage suddenly quivering in your chest. You will it to rise, to embolden you. Din had been brave — now it's your turn.

Without a word, he shifts and reaches back to release it from its sheathe on his waist. For a split second you see it, the hesitation in his hand.

Then he's holding it out, balancing in his open and trusting palm, held out for you. The thickness in your throat grows.

You swallow tightly and grip your courage, searching within you for that warm, safe feeling that beats like a drum, Din, Din, Din. You seize it tightly.

Eyes fixed on the blade, you ask quietly, "Would you... offer it to me again?"

It's impossible to draw your eyes up, too nervous to see yourself reflected in the darkness of his visor.

"Yes."

Your heart becomes a supernova.

"Will you?" You whisper, finally daring to look up at him.

Your protector, your partner, the man who showed you the softness of his heart and asked for nothing in return. "Will you offer it to me again?"

The subtle motions of Din are something you've come to learn with the years you've spent at his side. Now, staring up at you, the inclination of his armour gives away his surprise.

Then he's rising to his feet only to step before you and sink down, brought to his knees before you. His hand remains steady, the offering held out, and this time the meaning of it cannot be misconstrued in any way.

"Cyare," He murmurs — and it's beloved, it's please, it's don't part from my side for as long as you'll have me.

Something within you trembles and your bottom lip quivers in emotion and then you're moving without thinking, sagging until you're on your knees too.

Equal heights, each of you in a position of devotion, facing toward each other.

Hand reaching out, you clasp your fingers around the hilt of the dagger and say thickly, "I accept."

There's a ragged exhale through the modulator of Din's helmet. He shifts, moving to strip the gloves from his hands and the sight of so much skin from him is enough to make you falter. But there's barely time to recover your stolen breath before his bare hand curls around yours, far larger, the dagger gripped in both of your hands.

His skin pressed against yours burns like starlight. You stutter out a breath, your smile coming so easily at the sight of your joined hands.

Din's other hand raises up and pauses momentarily, halting as if he's unsure if he's allowed before it settles gently on your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his skin and hear another sharp inhale through the modulator.

"I—" He begins, quickly cutting himself off. His thumb on your cheeks begins to wander, soothing over your skin lightly. He urges you forward and you bow your head, forehead pressing to the cool beskar of his armour.

"Thank you."

"You're thanking me?" You chuckle wetly, emotion clinging to your words. His thumb on your face traces another soft circle and you shudder beneath the loving touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“You could have been clearer." You chastise lightly, though your evident joy means your words don't have any real bite.

“I offered you beskar, cyra’ika,” He murmurs, voice warm and full of love. His thumbs draws another delicate circle. “How much clearer could I be?”

His point makes you laugh, eyes opening and seeing your own reflection in his visor. "I don't know," You say, averting your eyes down to your still intertwined hands. You squeeze your hand and feel him echo the motion. Your heart sings.

"Use your words?" You suggest with a cheeky smile, well aware that words were not a strong suit of your Mandalorian.

Din sighs, a faux long suffering one, and the mere familiarity of it makes your heart ache in the best way.

The worries of earlier bubble up within you, the reminder of why you had been so sure the dagger had some other meaning.

“I,” You begin, pulling back lightly and casting your gaze towards Grogu, who had been suspiciously silent as if knowing the significance of the moment before him. “I wasn’t thinking about the beskar, I was being stupid.”

With your free hand, you cover Din’s hand with yours, hiding your face away, which suddenly feels a little warmer. The nudge of your hand against his does nothing to alleviate the glow.

“I thought it was, like,” You mutter quietly, embarrassed. “You were saying I wasn’t doing my job well enough or— or something and I started worrying you were gonna…”

You can’t even finish the sentence with how foolish you feel.

“You thought I wanted you to leave?” Din asks, his voice dubious and warm. Like the mere thought of that is so far from believable that it’s amusing to him.

“Shut up,” you groan, eyes closing as if it can save your from your further flustering.

“Didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to.” You murmur.

His hand in yours tightens, the other on your face coaxing you out of hiding with the gentlest of nudges.

"Never. As long as you want it, I want you with me." He says and in his voice you hear nothing but utter devotion. "Close your eyes."

You follow his command without hesitation, darkness cloaking your vision and you feel his hands retract from yours. The dagger remains in your palm, still cradled in your fingers. Then, there's the tell-tale hiss of his helmet and you inhale sharply.

"Cyare," He says and this time, it's with all the richness and roughness of his natural voice.

The timbre of his voice is like gunpowder sprinkled across your soul and when his hand finds the curve of your cheek once more, it's set alight.

"May I?" He asks. You can feel the soft heat of his breath fan across your lips and feel your heart quiver in response, bursting forward, as if trying to reach him. His thumb soothes across your cheek, full of wanting.

Your nod would be imperceptible if it was anyone other than Din — if his gaze wasn't trained on your face, drinking the details like a starved man, finally with uncloaked eyes.

He moves forward, presses his mouth against yours, and finds home.

missing this place so much. sorry i've been so MIA recently, life has been so so busy recently and doesn't look like it'll ease up anytime soon.

what's wrong babe you've barely touched your potential even though all your elementary teachers really liked you and said you were gifted and that you were going to do great things

aw thank you so much for the tag @fictional-love-is-my-life! i love doing these!!

Last song: Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole

Favorite color: Pink or pastel blue

Sweet/savory/spicy: sweet! i have absolutely no spice tolerance sady but i do like savory!

Currently watching: The Notebook (again) and The Bad Batch

Relationship status: single still 😔✋

Current obsession: getting a good nights worth of sleep

no pressure tags 🫶 +anyone who wants to: @salubriousbean @ihavewritersblockbutinreallife @robot-horde

Thank you for tagging us @skeletonsgeorg

✨Getting to know people better tag game✨

Last Song: Star Overhead by The Pillows

Favourite Colour: This is like IMPOSSIBLE for me to answer It always shifts between green, blue and purple.

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy: SAVORY~~~

Currently Watching: Ants Canada

Relationship Status: single

Current Obsession: TRANSFORMERS OMG IT HAS OVERTAKEN ME I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING OTHER THAN MEGOP HELP

Tagging: @wyrm-with-a-why, @lets-try-some-writing, @steelthroat, @myloveforfanfictonisendless

rb to give a flower to the person you rb this from

💌 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome

awww!!! thank you so much @padawancat97!! ❤️❤️

Oooo fun!! thanks for tagging me @padawancat97!!

Eggs: sunny side up ☀️

Steak: medium well

Milk: none other than the very specific lactose free whole milk from fairlife cause that stuff actually tastes good... but yeah i dont drink milk :)

Alcohol: none

Warm drink: hot chocolate or spice tea

no pressure tags 💌: @fictional-love-is-my-life @flowered-bicycles @ihavewritersblockbutinreallife @hellhound5925 @crow2222

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome! 💌

oh my gosh i dont know how i missed this 11 days ago?!

but anyways thank you so much!! i hope you have the best day ever (for every day 🫵) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

DAILY AFFIRMATION:

Tag your future fictional husband XD

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome! 💌

aw thank you so much @ihavewritersblockbutinreallife ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

he's done

starsream is dead by the way

REBLOG THIS TO GIVE THE PERSON YOU REBLOGGED THIS FROM A GOLD STAR BECAUSE THEY’VE BEEN STELLAR TODAY AND THEY DESERVE IT ⭐️

hey!! saw your ask box was open and i'd like to send something in ☺️ so i was wonderin if you could do mirage, hot rod, optimus, starscream + (anyone else you would want to write this for) where their s/o is kinda quiet and shy in the first part of their relationship but the more comfortable they get the louder they get? like when they're happy? screaming. when they're excited? screaming. saying hello? screaming. (all good and happy screams/yelling 👍) Like they just become a really really loud person to be around once you get to know them. cause quite frankly this is soo me but people don't believe me or my family when they say that cause you gotta be like best best friend level to be blessed with my loudness 😤😂 (feel free to ignore & take care of yourself 🫶🫶🫶)

Hello lovely!!

Mirage:

He screams and yells with them. He's so happy that they feel comfortable around him to fully be themselves.

And he loves their reactions, it means they are happy and having a good time. He can be pretty loud too, so he joins in. He yells and whoops along with them when they are happy.

He doesn't care what other people may think. He just loves being loud with his S/O and having a good time with them.

Hot Rod:

Since he only knew them to be quiet, he was a little surprised by their sudden loudness. It's not a problem, it is just something he has to take a second to adjust to. It takes him a few weeks to adjust to it, sometimes it still catches him off guard. But he doesn't say anything and doesn't have any issues. He lets his S/O react however they want to.

He's happy that his S/O finally feels fully comfortable with him. It makes him happy they trust him enough to act like themselves. And he is not the type to try and change them. He thinks they are perfect the way they are.

Optimus:

When they first started yelling he was a little concerned, as he usually interpreted screaming and yelling with bad things. It takes him a while to get used to it, always worried that when they scream it was because they got hurt or scared. But he's happy to know it means they are fully comfortable with him.

Eventually, he gets used to the fact that they are now louder. He won't ever ask them to stop or change. He wants them to be themselves, so he works on his own perspective and changes his opinions so that he can be unbothered by the yelling.

Starscream:

He was very surprised by their sudden change. He can understand that it's because they feel more comfortable around him. Though he does feel a little taken aback by it.

He never really gets used to it, as he likes the quiet, and yelling can sometimes off-put him. However, he is happy they are happy. Sometimes if he's not feeling his best, he may ask them to be a little quieter and not scream. He doesn't want anyone to think he's hurting them. And sometimes he needs a day of quiet. But most of the time he lets them do their thing and be loud.

site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition 

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms

When you remember how much you love a character you hadn’t thought about in a while

happy new year everyone!!!! 🪩🎉

Are u?

9 & 25 for the Spotify wrapped game !!!

thank you for the ask @pupkashi!! These are always so much fun to do! 😊🩵

9) Favorite lyrics of your #1 song

"I don't care how long it takes As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face" - from the song Here With Me by d4vd

25) favorite lyrics of you #100 "There ain't no love a man can find You'd feel her in a room if you was blind There ain't a grand thing a man can do She'll only love you for you" - from Smaller Acts by Zach Bryan

Spotify Wrapped ask game!

you know the drill, send a number & reply with songs from your top 100

Catchiest song

A song you didn't expect to see in your top 10

Sexiest song

Artist/band you didn't thought would be in your top artists (if any)

Oldest song (by release date)

Newest song (by release date)

Most streamed month of your top artist (explain if you think/know why)

Longest song

Favourite lyrics of your #1 song

A song that was also in last year's wrapped

Most famous/popular song (in your opinion)

A song you feel should be higher up

The song with the most peculiar sound (to you)

A song you think is underrated

Most danceable track

A song everyone should know

Saddest song

A song that describes your year so far

Is the most streamed song by your favourite artist your favourite of them?

Happiest song

The song you think will be in next years top songs again

Shortest song

A track that makes you think of a specific colour

A song that could be the soundtrack of a movie

Favourite lyrics of your #100 song

Favourite bassline

when i start saying weird shit to you thats the equivalent of a cat exposing its tummy

the way my lips look so kissable today but there's no one to kiss me

if you receive this, you make somebody happy! go on anon and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. if you get one back, even better! 💕

well i'm happy i make you happy 😊🫶

thank you for the tag @montyuh!

last song: coney island (feat. The National) -Taylor Swift

favorite color: hmm as of now like a pink? not hot pink or light pink but in the middle

last show: tbh i haven't seen a tv show in awhile but i watched Grey's Anatomy with my sister not long ago lol

sweet / savory / spicy: sweet or savory! i have the spice tolerance of a child so no thanks!

relationship status: single

last thing i googled: Marillenfleck

current obsession: ok so i just watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth looks so good as Snow 🫣

tagging: @fictional-love-is-my-life @robot-horde @hellhound5925 @padawancat97 @starrysfeverdream @flowered-bicycles +anyone who wants to join 🩵

tagged by @cynoli!! thank you :D

last song: Moon River - Henry Mancini (there is a version with Audrey Hepburn's vocals that is great too)

favorite color: Orange, like soft lighting and sunrise orange not Nike clothing highlighter orange. That stuff hurts me physically

last show: Blue Eye Samurai (I would do unspeakable things to meet Mizu)

sweet / savory / spicy: All of them. I need all of them in my life - so long as sour stays off the list

relationship status: Single

last thing i googled: AO3 (for Mizu)

current obsession: Mizu <3 from Blue Eye Samurai and the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner yes im writing this hungry

tagging: @dundeey @starliights-shining @the-mom-friend-dot-com @skylarstormheart @themaskismyface @loveofbots @wifetomegatron (zero obligation to do this... just an invitation if it seems fun)