sick days with joe feat baby burrow

joe burrow and fem!reader

it is currently eleven in morning and joe felt miserable. he was wrapped up in several fluffy blankets coughing up a storm. he kept complaining about his body being cold and feeling lightheaded.

you were downstairs in the kitchen pouring joe’s chicken noodle soup in the bowl. you placed the soup on the standing serving tray, sliced oranges for some vitamin c, and honey lemon tea.

you walked upstairs to you and joe’s bedroom lightly pushing the door open with your foot.

"hey baby," you said softly walking towards the bed. joe let out an incoherent sound. "I brought you chicken noodle soup, some oranges, and tea." you announced.

joe sat up right. "here you go baby," you said placing the standing tray on his lap.

while joe was blowing on his soup baby burrow pushed open the room door holding a colorful piece of paper in his hand.

he climbed up onto the king sized bed with a little assistance from mommy.

"what’s that you got there buddy?" joe asked in a horse voice.

"I made you a card daddy." baby burrow said happily.

baby burrow handed the card to joe. joe opened the card and read it quietly.

"thanks bud daddy’s feeling better already." joe said giving baby burrow a small smile.

baby burrow crawled closer to joe climbing onto his lap giving him a hug making you smile.

-

✰: here’s a joe burrow fic. I hope y’all enjoy!

Every Taylor Swift song

having talented friends is so wild!!!!!! like. YOU!!!!!!!!!! YOU made THAT. YOU DID THAT?!?!?!?! YOU created!!!! THAT!!!!!!!!!!! WOAH!!!!!! praise!!!!!!!! praise for one thousand years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

fatima aamer bilal, from i mother it the absence of her, iii. i am not a person that can be loved for a very long time excerpt from moony moonless sky.

Taylor Byas, from I Done Clicked My Heels Three Times: Poems; “Painted Tongue”

[Text ID: “my mother and I becoming each other, / her bruises and scars passed down, / family heirlooms that will take / me decades to stop wearing,”]

neil perry would've loved folklore

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? were you writing a book? were you a sleeper-cell spy? in fifty years will all this be declassified? and you'll confess why you did it… and i'll say good riddance ’cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden…. I WOULD’VE DIED FOR YOUR SINS INSTEAD I JUST DIED INSIDE!!!!!!!!! AND YOU DESERVE PRISON BUT YOU WON’T GET TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU’LL SLIDE INTO INBOXES AND SLIP THROUGH THE BARS YOU CRASHED MY PARTY IN YOUR RENTAL CAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU SAID NORMAL GIRLS WERE BORING BUT YOU WERE GONE BY THE MORNING!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU KICKED OUT THE STAGE LIGHTS BUT YOU’RE STILL PERFORMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!…………. and in the plain sight you hid……. and you are what you did…… and i’ll forget you but i’ll never forgive…. the smallest man who ever lived.

Begging swifties to understand that Taylor didn’t write reputation and Lover with the knowledge of how the relationship was going to end and that trying to “excavate” those albums for evidence to prove a specific theory as to why it ended is not how they should be viewed. Taylor wrote those songs feeling a very specific way because that’s what she was experiencing and she is now reflecting on them with hindsight and relates to them differently than when she first created them. These conflicting emotions can exist; how she views it now doesn’t diminish how she felt about it when she first released it.

it's already been said but it's crazy how female artists in the 90s wanted nothing to do w the feminist label and yet the message they sent through their music was actually empowering due to its rawness and authenticity while nowadays everyone tries too hard to be a feminist and an ally and they just come off as fake and bland bc it's all this sugarcoated liberal white feminism #girlboss barbie 2023 and the worst part is ppl actually buy into that but get scared when they see anything sinead oconnor did

The Long Road (18+) Out Now!

Crown Jewel Tourmaline, a dwarf princess, would do almost anything to get out of her betrothal. Unfortunately, the bandits who ambush her on the way to her wedding fall far short of her bodice-ripping fantasies. With her overprotective knight Angre taken captive, it's up to Tourmaline and a debauched band of goblins to put her story right.

The Long Road is made up of four chapters in a fantasy sex farce of confused identity, notions of royalty, and gender expression. You can find a full list of its contents on the store page, along with the first four pages!

22k words, 13 spot illustrations, 7 half-page illustrations. Available as a PDF and EPUB, and comes with a curated image gallery zip of development art and illustrations, including subscriber exclusives.

Read it today!

the tortured poets department tracklist (album out april 19)

mornings with joe feat baby burrow

joe burrow and fem!reader

you were currently in the kitchen plating breakfast while joe was stacking blocks with baby burrow.

you made blueberry waffles, pork bacon, and eggs. for baby burrow you substituted the bacon for chopped up bananas and strawberries.

you grabbed two cups from the cabinet and a sippy cup. you grabbed three oranges from the refrigerator and a orange squeezer.

as you squeezed the last orange joe and baby burrow walk into the kitchen, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

joe put baby burrow in his high chair where his small portions of waffles, eggs, sippy cup, and fruit were waiting for him.

you handed joe his plate and glass of orange juice. "thank you baby." he said, giving you a peck on the lips.

you grabbed your plate, glass of orange juice, and joined your boys at the table.

-

✰: just a little short and sweet burrow family concept ❤️

got a message out of the blue about that 'why Batman doesn't kill' explanation I left on someone else's post like two years ago but it was just "wait is Alfred dead????" and I sort of forgot that most of tumblr Batfam fandom doesn't actually read comics and so largely has no idea that Bane killed Alfred back in 2019 and he's stayed dead since

I sound like a broken record, but I really can't get over her basically airing out Joe Alwyn's mental health problems to the world and liking tweets of people poking fun at his struggles. She basically made sure any person Joe works with going forward knows he's struggled with his mental health. And while there is nothing to be ashamed of. He's clearly a deeply private person. She writes on Instagram there is "nothing to avenge" and that her "wounds are healed." Certainly doesn't sound like it.

fatima aamer bilal, from coffin heart? bury me.

[text id: how did you get so close that i have to dissect you out from under my skin? / memory is a deathbed. remembrance is a grave. the memory of you is a scab that i keep picking so that it scars. a burn, a souvenir, something to claw at that claws back at me. / i refuse to be haunted by something less. / there's a sun-sized ache where your hands used to be. / and now that your place is empty, the blood in my heart pumps around nothing. / nothing. / nothing at all. / senseless circulation. / what am i to live for when i have made my body my casket? / where am i to go from here? / and i always knew longing had another name she wouldn't let me call her by — it's hunger. / my heart grew up to be far more starved than my stomach. / it's the things you learn in your childhood, from the words of your mother, from the hands of your father. / if your teeth do not graze my bones, i do not wish for you to kiss me. / how have i turned gentle love into such devastation? / such greediness? / i carry a coffin for a heart; everything i love must be buried. / plant your garden in the cracks of my skin—mud, gravel, everything. let my blood be water to cater to your needs. / terrible, terrible human, thinks barbarity and love are words of the same meaning. / a mad dog would be a far more gentle lover to the rocks being thrown at him. / and, my dear, i wouldn't ask you to fold me in the pages of your favorite book, just the embedment of fingers between my ribs. / how did you get so close that i have to dissect you out from under my skin? / GET CLOSER.]

Taylor Byas, from I Done Clicked My Heels Three Times: Poems; “To the city I wish to get to know”