#behind the scenes of iwia

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Behind the scenes of “I Want it All”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

This is based on an ask/suggestion I received for Sander’s birthday. I liked the idea so much I set it aside to work on separately later as a bts post. @ Hanna anon, it’s not exactly the same, but I hope you like it and see it! 💕💕💕 Thank you for the idea 🥰 

You can also read this story and any others you missed. I just added part 2 of the bts collection to Ao3, chapter 16. 

***

No Way!

As Hanna reached for the box of cereal on the shelf, she heard a giggle, followed by a deep chuckle and a high pitched squeal.

Her hand paused mid-air. She knew that giggle. She knew that chuckle. What—

She left her cart behind and raced up the aisle, only slowing down to make the turn and peer surreptitiously around the corner.

There!

She was right! It had been Sander and Robbe.

Robbe stood in the bread section, Sander crouched at his feet, clearly looking for something on the shelves. He said a quiet word to Robbe, who then shuffled sideways out of his way. At his shift, a little girl came into view. 

Oh wow. That…that must be…Amelia, who’d—God—be almost two by now.

She…was beautiful, cherubic in pink sparkles. She sat in a carrier on Robbe’s back, her chubby little legs hanging wildly at his waist, occasionally kicking his hips and thighs with her feet. Her hair was golden blonde and fluffed about her head like a feathery halo, little ringlets just beginning to form at the base of her neck even though the top was still quite short. She was enchanting.

After another kick, Robbe grabbed her legs and tickled her calves, eliciting a peel of shrill laughter. He grinned over his shoulder and said something unintelligible to her, and she responded with a squealed string of words that ended in a loud “Daddy.” He laughed and tickled her again, which of course resulted in another giggle.

Hanna was endeared by the spectacle. Her daughter— No. Amelia. Amelia was obviously happy and well cared for. Granted, she hadn’t expected any less from Sander…or Robbe for that matter. They were both good people. Sander probably spoiled her rotten, and Robbe, as her godfather, could only be a willing accomplice. She was a lucky girl.

Hanna did, however, find it surprising that Amelia was on Robbe’s back instead of Sander’s. Even more, he looked so natural carrying her and teasing her, and the way Amelia’s fingers curled into his hair and pressed against his cheek indicated a level of familiarity that surprised her. She’d been wrong about him. Robbe had obviously taken his official duties seriously, plunging himself into child-rearing instead of setting off to live carefree and unencumbered like she thought he would.

Sander had been right. He wasn’t raising her alone. The picture perfect family they made proved that.

Then Sander stood, coming into full view for the first time, and he…looked good. No, he looked radiant, aglow with happiness. His dark hair was windswept, and his skin was sun kissed a warm bronze; but it was his eyes that caught her attention. They shone with an inner light. Hanna’s heart lurched briefly, wistful for what could have been if he had chosen her.

But at the same time, she felt no regret, no bitterness. As beautiful as he was and as tempting as this domestic tableau might seem, it wasn’t what she wanted. They were both better off where they were. She was truly happy for him, and she was selfishly glad that she’d been able to steal this moment to watch them from a distance, to check up on them and feed her curiosity without the awkwardness of speaking to them. That was…unconscionable.

Had she thought it possible that she might run into them when she came home for the summer? Yes, of course. She’d mentally prepared herself to see her ex and their…his daughter, but she hadn’t thought it likely. Antwerp was big enough, and Sander’s flat wasn’t anywhere near her parents’ place, nor was it near this grocery store. What on earth were they doing here, laughing and shopping so far from home? Maybe Robbe had moved nearby? That was possible. Or, did Carlos live near here? It didn’t matter. Here they were.

At that moment Sander placed a hand on Robbe’s stomach and reached for a package of cookies on the other side of the aisle. Before he could put it in the basket, Robbe snatched it out of his hands and put it back, shaking his head.

Sander pouted, looking like the absolutely besotted doofus he was for that boy, but then, rolling his eyes, Robbe took a few extra steps and pulled a larger box of the same cookies off the shelf. 

Of course it had worked on Robbe! Hanna groaned internally. They’d always been so ridiculous.

Sander’s reaction was instantaneous. “Ugh, you—” his eyes cut to Amelia, and dropping his voice too low for Hanna to hear, he finished the sentence with something that made Robbe giggle.

Robbe tossed him the cookies, and after dropping them into the basket, Sander whirled on Robbe, fisting his shirt and tugging him into a hug with the stupidest “I’m madly in love with you” smile on his face.

This time Hanna had to roll her eyes. Sander never could hide his feelings…or keep his hands off of Robbe. Some things never changed.

Robbe hugged him back, his face disappearing into Sander’s neck for a moment, and Amelia patted his head, her legs swinging wildly again. Sander’s hand stilled her kicking foot, and she shouted a dismayed, “Dada!” He leaned over Robbe’s shoulder to kiss her cheek, and then stepping back, he took Robbe’s hand and led them back to the basket. They moved down the aisle holding hands, chatting quietly with one another, all smiles.

Now that was different. Sander and Robbe didn’t hold hands, not like that, all coupley and cute. They’d always hugged and touched excessively, but hand holding…not so much. Some things apparently had changed.

As they reached the end of the aisle, Hanna’s eyes nearly flew out of her head. Robbe’s hand moved to Sander’s far hip, and hugging him in, he pressed a kiss to Sander’s neck. Flushing pink and visibly melting, Sander lifted his left hand to Robbe’s face and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Robbe followed it with a turn of his head to leave a kiss on Sander’s palm, which brought Hanna’s attention to Sander’s new tattoo…on his ring finger!

Sander gave Robbe a dopey, adoring smile, and then taking his hand once again, they left, disappearing from view as they turned the corner.

They were—

Holy shit.

Sander and Robbe were together, and if his new tattoo was any indication, they might even be married!

What the fuck had happened?

Last time she’d seen them, Sander had been hiding from his feelings, and Robbe had been oblivious to all of it, happily dating another man and living his best platonic soulmate life. It would have been comical if she hadn’t been wrapped up in it (and yet the petty part of her had still found it somewhat satisfyingly tragic).

She’d known Robbe for over two years. Not once had he returned Sander’s longing glances. Not once had he ever truly seen Sander. She’d been so sure it was unrequited. As the jealous other woman, or at least contender for Sander’s affection, she would know, right?

What had changed?

Obviously something had happened because Robbe was just as disgustingly in love now. It was obvious. If she hadn’t been initially distracted by Amelia and Sander, she would have seen it right away. Still, the concept was so foreign to her she thought she could be forgiven for not noticing it. 

They’d made the sweetest picture, standing there at the end of the aisle, staring adoringly into one another’s eyes, all gooey and touchy-feely.  

Two years ago this development would have made her angry and filled her with jealousy, but now it didn’t matter. She was happy for him…for them, all three of them.

She’d never forgotten her parting words to Sander—using Robbe’s indifference as a weapon. She’d felt so guilty about it. It hadn’t been fair, and while it had been true (as far as she knew at the time), it had been mean. She almost wanted to apologize to him, but…she also didn’t want to talk to him.

This was better. Seeing them like this and knowing everything was fine, that Sander and Amelia were better than fine, was exactly what she needed. She could now close the door on that chapter of her life with no worries or regrets. She could move on. 

More than anything, though, she was grateful to have gotten a peek at Amelia, to hear her laughter. Hanna would be lying if she said she never thought about her. She thought about her all the time but in an abstract way with curiosity, not longing. She wondered and imagined, and now she had a face to add to her musings. 

She also had to admit it felt good to have confirmation that she’d made the right choice. Amelia was beautiful. She was happy. She was loved. She had everything she needed. She was far better off here with them than she would have been with Hanna under any circumstances. 

No, Hanna had no regrets. As she strode back to her cart, she wished them well with her whole heart, but just in case, she hid in the frozen section at the back of the store for a few minutes to make sure they didn’t run into one another in the check out lane.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #behind the scenes of iwia #1.5k #i want it all #gonna post the collection to Ao3 now #this should be the last one #I’M SORRY I TOOK SONLONG TO WRITE THIS HANNA ANON

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Behind the Scenes of “I Want it All”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Another short one that I’ve been thinking about forever. Amelia is a little stinker, and I love her.

***

That one’s mine

As Amelia grew older, Robbe and Sander couldn’t help noticing certain traits of theirs that showed up in her words and actions. Sometimes they were good things, like Amelia sitting on the couch, kicking her feet, completely absorbed in a book (à la Robbe), and sometimes they weren’t so good, like when she refused to come to dinner because she wasn’t done her book (…also Robbe). These moments made them feel proud and a little awed by her, especially Robbe, who marveled at the similarities in their personalities even though they weren’t biologically related. 

They started playing a game when it happened.

When Amelia sang along to a song, not missing a single lyric, Robbe turned to Sander and said, “Did you hear that? That’s you.” Snorting, Sander nodded. “Mmhmm, that’s my girl. She’s gonna be a Bowie fan.”

When Amelia climbed super high on the playground equipment and asked for a skateboard before she could run, Sander pointed at her and said, “That one’s yours.”

“Yeah,” Robbe agreed, running a hand through his messy hair, a look of both pride and panic on his face. Their little daredevil was going to be the death of them.

It was fun to claim their more positive traits, Robbe beaming when she copied Sander’s posture and mannerisms or Sander hugging him from behind, with a knowing, “Mmhmm,” as they watched her tell off the cat in Robbe’s exact tone. 

It was even more fun when they could blame something on the other. Amelia’s lack of regard for rules and boundaries was Sander through and through as far as Robbe was concerned, and he always liked to say, “That one’s yours,” when it happened.

Sander tried to blame her stubbornness on Robbe, but Robbe just lifted an imperious eyebrow at him and shook his head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll own it,” Sander groaned.

He got his revenge later, though, when she cursed for the first time. Sander glared hard at Robbe, who just grimaced sheepishly. He had no defense on that one. Whoops. “Uhh, yeah, that one’s mine. Sorry.”

The first time she rolled her eyes at them they were at a complete loss. They tried to blame one another, but it didn’t work. They were both culpable.  

When Amelia pushed a mean kid at school, Sander couldn’t help laughing for a moment, saying, “She’s all yours,” and making Robbe give her the ‘violence isn’t the answer’ lecture.

Sander nearly died of happiness when Amelia teased Robbe for the first time. He picked her up and whirled her around, shouting, “Mine. Mine. Mine,” as Robbe whined, “Not both of you now. I’m doomed.” Sander put her down, and she ran over to Robbe and kissed his cheek. It was probably supposed to be an apology, but she added afterwards, “But you really can’t sing, daddy!”

Their favorite, though, was when Amelia found a Sharpie and drew a matching soulmark on her wrist. It was more scribbles and loops than anything else, but it was recognizable as an imitation of the mark on their wrists. They were torn between being appalled and being ridiculously pleased. Sander shed proud tears between giggles, and Robbe hugged her. It took days to rub it off, much to their chagrin, but Amelia was pleased as could be. She’d hold it up to them and say, “See mine? I have one too, dada!”

As they tried to scrub it off for the third night in a row, Robbe narrowed his eyes at Sander and said, “Yours. This one is 100% yours.”

“I know.”

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #behind the scenes of iwia #i want it all #i have at least one more coming soon-ish #for whoever still wants these or cares about the fic

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Self destructive/indulgent birthday fic idea: Robbe and Amelia take Sander to the supermarket on his birthday (bc it’s their place in every universe) so Amelia can pick out his birthday cake (she will pick some crazy brightly coloured monster cake lol). Sander is wearing a paper birthday crown that Amelia made and she’s sat in the little toddler seat of the shopping cart while they walk around together having fun. Hanna is back in Belgium visiting family and sees them unexpectedly from another aisle. Sobbe don’t see her or know she’s there but she sees how they’re now together and how happy they look (this might or might not be me side eying Hanna and wanting her to realise she was wrong about Robbe not looking at Sander twice but how the whole situation worked out for the best in the end)

HI HI HI Hanna anon!!!!! 💕💕💕 Here I am finally answering this wonderful ask that I had to sit on to avoid spoilers. I am so so so sorry it took me this long to do something with your amazing idea. I hope you like what I did with it. I shifted it away from the birthday theme, but the main idea is there. Thank you again for this idea and your patience. HUGS!!! 🥰🥰

The new bts story can be found here. (I also just added a chapter of bts to Ao3). ☺️

Thanks again!! 💖✨💕✨💕✨💖

#my asks #lovely anons #hanna anon #again thank you for this idea you are amazing! #wtfock #i want it all #behind the scenes of iwia #sobbe #wtfam

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

oh i love the Behind the Scenes of I Want it All they are so cute :)

Oh thank youuuuu 💕💕💕

I’m glad someone is still enjoying them. I’ve been wondering whether I’m really the only audience left, so thank you for this. You’re so sweet for telling me! Definitely made my day 🥰🥰

#I have at least one more before I post the collection to Ao3 #at this point I’m sure I’m writing these and iwia for me #but I’m glad to know others are still interested #thank you for being lovely #lovely anons #behind the scenes of iwia #i want it all

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Behind the Scenes of “I Want it All”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

This idea came to me randomly bc of some pictures I saw. It’s not an idea I’ve been tabling for a while, and it doesn’t really fit into the larger picture of iwia, at least not now since it takes place in the future. So I guess I’m starting the behind the scenes series up again. I don’t know if anybody is interested in this, but I felt compelled to write it. (no surprise, but it’s longer than I planned, 2.5k). I’ll eventually post it to the fic, but I have a few more ideas I might add to the series first. That way I’m uploading a more substantial chapter. 

This takes place when Amelia is about 3.5 years old.

***

Maybe it was the Pajamas

Robbe and Sander’s flat wasn’t small, all things considered, but it wasn’t exactly huge either. With just the two of them, they’d made it work easily, their belongings separated into each of their rooms and plenty of room to spread out in the main room. Now, of course, they shared a room, and while they’d been able to make that work by donating furniture and items that were doubled, heckling over who deserved more space in the wardrobe, and determining exactly how much of the room was considered Sander’s “office,” they still had a problem. Amelia.

Her things continued to accumulate. Everywhere. They seemed to increase exponentially every day, and there was little they could do about it. At first it had just been bottles piled up in the sink, and too many loads of laundry. Now, no place was sacred. There were toys stored in bins all over the flat. Her play area had taken over their family room, blankets and stuffed animals everywhere, pillows thrown about, and piles of books on every surface. Her special (aka colorful plastic) dishes and cups exploded out of their already full cabinets, and her treats and snacks took up half of the pantry. As annoying as all this could be, it wasn’t their main concern. The problem was her bedroom.

Now that she was older, toddling about, her bedroom had become the repository for everything she outgrew. The swing sat dismantled in the corner, precariously balancing on an overflowing box of baby toys and playmats. Several haphazardly stacked boxes of baby dishes and bottles, bibs and burp cloths, and random accouterments stood next to it, her old high chair leaning against the pile. Her travel crib took up another corner, and both her dresser and diaper table overflowed with items they used regularly. More than anything, though, scattered all around the room in every available space were bins or bags of clothes, so many clothes, some she’d grown out of, others she needed to grow into, many of them gifts from friends and family. Every season was represented in every size. They had bulky coats and boots, jackets and sneakers, sun hats and sandals, sweaters and hoodies galore, swimsuits of every size, piles upon mounds of leggings and tops, and let’s not forget the collection of Princess dress-up outfits shoved in a duffel under her bed that she’d gotten from the grandparents for Christmas. What the hell was going on? The clothes (and, if they were honest, the toys) kept accumulating, and within a year or two, they’d be forced out of their own home.

Finally it was too much. Robbe and Sander had to do something. They both knew it, but neither of them wanted to be the logical one. They didn’t want to face what it meant.

Robbe brought it up first. They stood in the doorway together, Amelia asleep in her crib for a nap, a knuckle stuffed in her mouth, butt up in the air. “San, this room is a mess,” he whispered. “We’re going to eventually trip on something, or that,” and he pointed at the boxes piled in the corner, “Is going to fall over. Either way, one of us could get hurt.”

“I know,” Sander said, his voice small, defeated.

“What if it’s Amelia? We need to do something.”

“I know.” Sander’s eyes roamed the room, his lips dropping into a frown. “But—”

“I know,” Robbe agreed sadly. “I don’t want to either, but it can’t stay this way.” He stepped behind Sander and wrapped his arms around his middle. “We don’t have to toss everything. We just need to clear out some space.”

Sander exhaled a shaky, “Okay.” He placed his hands over Robbe’s and said, “There’s just a lot of memories here. Good memories. I don’t want to forget them.”

“We won’t,” Robbe whispered into his back. “You took a million pictures, remember?” 

Sander huffed out a soft laugh, dropping his head forward. “Yeah.”

“And we’ll always have them here too.” Robbe tapped Sander’s forehead and then ran his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp until Sander melted back into him with a sigh. 

“It’s just–” he started and then hesitated.

“Go on, San. What is it?”

He turned in Robbe’s arms and hugged him tighter, resting his chin against his cheek. “It’s just, you mentioned you would be open to more.”

“Mmhmm,” Robbe hummed into his neck, pretty sure he knew where this was going.

“Well, so would I. What if we did? Wouldn’t we need all this shit?”

Robbe kissed his jaw, and then smiling, said, “That’s a Euro, baby.”

“Shhh, I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

Nuzzling his neck, Robbe responded, “And I’m trying to distract you from stressing. C’mere.” He removed Sander’s arm from his shoulder, interlaced their fingers, and led him to their bedroom. They lay down facing one another, and Robbe took his hand again as soon as they were settled. “Think of it like this,” he started. “Do you want to move?”

Sander blinked at him, his face full of confusion, and he finally managed, a soft, “No.”

“I don’t either. It’s either find another place or fit into this one, so that means we have to do something. Some of this has to go. We have too much already, and you know we’re just going to end up getting more. People just throw things at her, at us.”

“Uuuugh,” Sander groaned, turning his face into his pillow. “Why can’t they leave us alone? So much stuuuuuuff.” It sounded a little garbled, but Robbe got the gist. It was rough, honestly. With Amelia being the first baby in their family and their friend group, they were always the recipients of random gifts–”I saw this and thought of Amelia,” or “Isn’t this the cutest thing?” or “I’m sure you need one of these” or, the most common, “Wouldn’t she look adorable in this.” It was a real problem.

He chuckled at Sander’s dramatics and rubbed his back reassuringly. “I’m sure this is pretty common. If we actually had storage space, it wouldn’t be an issue, but as it is…” he trailed off.

A muffled, “We’re screwed,” came out of the pillow.

“Yep, and,” Robbe leaned forward to kiss the back of his neck, startling him enough for him to roll over and face Robbe. “Like I said,” he continued, pushing the hair out of Sander’s eyes and smiling into them, “We’re not getting rid of everything. If there’s something you want to keep, we will.” Sander nodded, a half smile appearing slowly, and Robbe kissed his shoulder. “And maybe, after we shovel out, we can try to set some boundaries.”

Sander lifted his eyebrows, snorting ironically. “Do you really think that will work with my mother? Or Zoe and Jana for that matter?”

Robbe tugged him closer until he was half sprawled across his body, his forehead resting against Robbe’s cheek. Robbe kissed his temple and said, “We can at least try.” He hugged Sander closer, enjoying the familiar weight of his body and the tickling breaths on his neck. After a minute, he added, “And anyway, we can’t start now. Why don’t you get used to the idea, and we can attack it tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Sander snuggled closer, pressing his lips onto Robbe’s collar bone and asked, “So that’s tomorrow. Did you have any plans for now?”

“I do,” he said, snuggling a little further down in the bed and readjusting his arm underneath Sander. “We nap.”

Sander exhaled a laugh and kissed the corner of Robbe’s mouth. “A nap sounds good.”

  They tackled Amelia’s room the next day and several of the following weekends, sorting everything into three categories: give away, throw away, and keep. The swing and the box of bottles and dishes were easy. They took them to the donation center first. Then came the baby toys. They kept a few of their favorites–the first one to make Amelia laugh or the one she’d played with the most–but there really wasn’t a need or a place for them; so off to the donation center they went. A few things were so broken or gross (teething had been difficult on the toys and blankets), they had to trash them, but they tried not to as much as they could. 

It would have been infinitely better if they’d had someone they could just pawn everything off on, like Zoe for instance, but no, none of their friends were ready for children. Zoe insisted she was happy to play Auntie for the time being, and the rest of them weren’t anywhere near interested. Even so, they might have kept a box aside specifically for Zoe and filled it with items they thought she might eventually want, like toys or clothes she’d bought for Amelia. Robbe figured they could drop it off at her house any time, and Zoe would easily be able to store it out of the way somewhere.

The hardest part for both of them was sorting through the clothes. It was a huge, time-consuming, tedious task, made worse by the fact that it was difficult to balance practicality with nostalgia. They started with the oldest clothes and made it no further than the third outfit before both of them were crying over a pair of rainbow footie pajamas, the ones she’d worn home from the hospital. 

“She was so small,” Sander said, holding it up. It was barely the length of his forearm.

“She was wearing this the first time I saw her. So beautiful, so perfect,” Robbe said thoughtfully, his fingers caressing the fabric as tears slid down his face. “I fell in love with her instantly.”

“I know,” Sander said, smiling soppily at him. “I could see it on your face, and I thought my heart would explode. I’d never been so happy.”

“And then I went and invited myself to live with you.” He grinned back at Sander, curling his fingers around the onesie. “Because that’s a totally normal thing to do.”

Taking advantage of Robbe’s grip, Sander tugged him forward into a hug, and Robbe landed in his lap, legs sprawled out to one side and arms hooked over his shoulders. 

“Normal or not,” Sander began, pausing to peck kisses all over Robbe’s face before continuing, “It made me even happier, and now look where we are. Marital bliss.” He held up the onesie between them and said, “Maybe we owe everything to a pair of pajamas.”

“Dork,” Robbe snorted. “I’m pretty sure it was the little girl in the pajamas, particularly the fact that she was your little girl.” 

“Hmpf,” he replied, noncommittally, “Either way, this one definitely stays.”

“I agree. Keep pile.”

Sander reverently placed the outfit into their slowly growing keep pile, and after a rather soggy make out session, they turned to the next one.

And so it began, they “oohed” and “aahed” and cried their way through the clothing, stopping to comment and reminisce as they went.

“I always liked this print.” (“That’s because it’s neither pink nor purple.”) “True.”

“Oooh, this is what she was wearing the morning she interrupted us by saying, ‘Dada’ for the first time. Do you remember?” (“I’ve never been so pleased and so frustrated at once, so yes.”)

“Oh look at these cute booties. Can you believe her feet were that small?”

“Did she even wear this?”

“Why are ruffles on the bum so cute? Why?”

“She threw up on me wearing this. I can’t believe it’s this clean!” (“She puked on everything, San, and I am a laundry wizard.”)

“Ewww, she chewed on this. Gross!”

“These snaps, oh how I hated these snaps. Death to all snaps!” 

“Why do we even have these? She was born in the summer, and these boots are for infants. Infants can’t walk in the snow. Ugh, dumb!”

“Ahhh, yes, the dress she refused to take off for a week because she wanted to be a princess.”

“Oooh, I loved this one.”

“Uh oh, this one looks like the cat got it. Holes everywhere.” (“Are you sure those aren’t from her teeth?”)

“This jacket, oh my God, she looked like a puffy little marshmallow, waddling about running into things.” (“Yes, I vaguely remember her bouncing off the couch at a dead run.”)

“Your mom gave us this one.”

“So much for the laundry wizard. That stain is never coming out. Ick.” (“Let’s not talk about it. I don’t want to remember why that stain is there.” *shivers*)

“Remember how chubby her legs used to be in this?”

“I never liked this one.”

“Her leggings have so many holes. What has she been doing? Crawling across gravel?”

“Why am I crying over a shirt?” (“Because it was the first one we bought for her that says, ‘Daddy.’”)

“Ugh, glitter! Fu–freaking Milan!”

At one point Amelia walked in, taking a break from the movie she was watching, and asked them why they were crying. When they explained that her old clothes made them both happy and said, she just gave them the “my dads are so weird” look and went back to her cartoon.

  For the most part, they agreed on what to do with everything. There were many outfits they both wanted to keep, like the dress she wore at their wedding and the “I love my Dads” onesie; however, there were some that were special to one and not the other. Sander was attached to several that Robbe wasn’t, and there were a few outfits Robbe insisted on keeping: the one she wore to the hospital when she had croup, a blue romper with pink flowers his mother had given them, and a unicorn hoodie they’d had to buy her on a unexpectedly cold day at the beach. When they’d bought it, her eyes had glowed, growing round in amazement, and she hadn’t been able to stop touching the horn or playing with the sequins for the rest of the trip. She wanted to wear it all the time, so Robbe made a game of it. She’d ask if she could wear it, Robbe would shrug his shoulders and say, “If you can find it;” and she’d go search the flat for it. He had to find increasingly difficult places to hide it, but they had a lot of fun. 

In the end, they had a large pile to donate, a smaller pile to keep, and a nice box for Zoe. The clothes destined for the bin didn’t even make it into a pile, instead finding themselves the casualties of competition. Robbe and Sander had had a blast chucking them at the rubbish bin across the room, trying to score points. Robbe won. By a lot. 

Once they cleaned up and moved everything to where it belonged, Amelia’s room was finally less cluttered. There were no more tripping hazards, and nothing looked like it was going to fall over.

Robbe and Sander were battered and bruised, still reeling from all the memories, emotionally and physically exhausted, but they were happy, filled with a sense of accomplishment.

When they plopped down on the couch together, Robbe turned to Sander, elbowing him in the ribs, and asked, “Should we tackle our room next?”

“Don’t press your luck,” Sander responded, before kissing him into the cushions.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #behind the scenes of iwia #i want it all #this is a parenting story #domestic fluff bc that's what i do these days #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #i hope you like this #it's a bit different but also very them so i dunno

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Behind the Scenes of “I Want it All”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Super short, straightforward cuteness.

***

I like warm hugs

Amelia always loved hugs. Whether it was because they hugged her a lot when she was little or because they hugged each other so much, they didn’t know, but Amelia wanted to be a part of every hug. She loved loudly and wanted to both hug and be hugged; thus, unless they hid (which they did, who could blame them?), they weren’t allowed to hug alone.

It was super cute when she was little. Anytime Robbe and Sander would hug, which was often, Amelia would toddle over and grab onto one of their legs, joining in until one of them picked her up and hugged her properly. She’d wrap her arms around their necks, smash her face into theirs, and giggle. When she’d had enough, they’d put her down, and she’d be on her way again, giving them ample time to hug on their own.

The pattern continued as she grew older and taller, though her methods became a little more forceful. Hugging their legs wasn’t enough. Being picked up wasn’t enough. She wanted in on the hug. By the time she was five, she’d run up to them, shouting, “No, no, no,” and push them apart so that she could insert herself between them. Then she’d wrap her arms around one of them and say, “Now hug!” It was cute. They laughed about it. It was such a her thing to do that they couldn’t help but love her for it. Yet...

They loved it as much as they were frustrated by it because, “Dammit, sometimes I just want to hug my husband for a minute!”  Amelia didn’t care. Her dads loved each other, and she loved her dads; and hugs were hugs. She couldn’t bear the idea of being left out. 

In the end, they just smiled at each other over her head, perhaps adding a dramatic sigh or a teasing eye roll for fun, and hugged her back, enjoying what little time they had left with her open affection, and if they occasionally snuck away when she wasn’t looking because they needed “us” time, she need never know. 

Bonus: 

The cuddle pile on the couch also continued from when she was little, only, as she grew older, she grew heavier with more bony joints and flailing limbs. Any time Robbe or Sander lay on top of the other on the couch (or even next to), she’d crawl on top of them, her elbows and knees jabbing at them along the way. Sometimes she joined the nap, and other times she sat on them like a chair; and yes, sometimes she bounced (it was not pleasant).

Her most silly contribution was to climb up, lay on top, and announce that they were now a “sandwich” and she and whoever was on the bottom were the bread. Robbe loved it when Sander was in the middle because he’d make jokes about Sander being the cheese because it went with his “cheesy personality and bad jokes.” Of course Sander would have to respond with something about Robbe being Rye bread... And so it went.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #behind the scenes of iwia #i want it all #i'll be posting a few more coming up

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Behind the Scenes of “I Want it All”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

I’ve been thinking and giggling about this one forever. It makes me so ridiculously happy, and I’ve just been waiting for the right way to present it. (As far as I’m concerned it’s canon if/when sobbe have kids). Please enjoy both my dream and my nightmare (I am Robbe in this story).

***

“Oh…God…no”

The first time it happened Robbe thought it was an accident, that Sander hadn’t noticed he’d done it. Sander had been sitting with Amelia on her blanket, helping her make pipe cleaner crowns for her stuffed animals, when she’d asked if he would dance with her dog. Without hesitating and totally deadpan, he responded, “Nope. Doggy can’t dance. He has two left feet.”

Robbe stopped in his tracks where he was putting away the dishes, a plate hovering in mid-air just below the cabinets. Did Sander just—? Robbe put the plate away and strode to the living room. He peered over the couch at them, Sander sitting cross-legged and leaning back on his hands, Amelia prancing about with her newly coronated, stuffed “Ziggy.” She wasn’t laughing; she hadn’t even acknowledged his joke, and Sander watched her serenely, his face passive and calm, no hint of humor glittering in his eyes. No, Robbe thought. It must have been an accident.

Sander noticed Robbe hovering and smiled up at him as if nothing were amiss. Robbe searched his eyes and still found no sign of amusement. At Sander’s questioning look, Robbe shrugged, darted around the couch, gave him a quick kiss, and then returned to the kitchen, sure that Sander’s moment of verbal wit had been a fluke.

The second time it happened, though, it was definitely intentional. Robbe was in Amelia’s bedroom getting her ready for bed while Sander caught up on work at his desk. Robbe had Amelia wrapped in a towel and was drying her off when he realized Amelia’s book was missing, the one they’d been reading together every night. Since they were both still wet and she needed to get dressed, he yelled, “Dada, can you bring us Amelia’s book? It’s in our room. Should be on the shelf.”

“I can’t. I’m under the cat,” Sander called back. Being “under the cat” had become their excuse for getting out of doing just about anything. (”But just look how cute he is, all sleepy and snuggly. It would be cruel to disrupt his nap...”).

Robbe frowned and rolled his eyes. “You know you can shove him off, right? He’ll get over it,” he pushed, knowing that Sander would eventually give in.

“I would, but he’s just so purrrrrr-suasive.”

Robbe’s ”Please” died on his lips, and he stared, wide-eyed at the wall separating their rooms, directly at the space where he knew Sander sat. Unable to settle on one reaction, various emotions flickered across his face: exasperation, disgust, pride, humor, shock. He was at war with himself. Should he laugh, or groan. or make fun of him?

Sander’s soft, hesitant “Robin?” cut through his thoughts, and he scooped up Amelia, still in her towel, and carried her to their room.

An incredulous “You didn’t?” escaped his lips before he even reached the doorway.

“Didn’t what?” Sander asked innocently, his hand absently stroking Ziggy’s back.

“San, that was terrible,” he groaned, leaning against the door and hiking Amelia a little higher in his hip. She aimed a curious eye at Robbe and then Sander but was blessedly spared from sharing in Sander’s embarrassment by being too young to understand the pun (okay, maybe it was Robbe being embarrassed for him, but still).

A slow grin spread across his face, full of pride and mischief, and Sander answered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was meow-sic to his ears.” In emphasis he gave Ziggy’s head a soft pat and then scratched him behind the ears. A loud purr erupted from his throat as if agreeing with Sander, and Robbe glared at the little traitor.

When he finally found his voice, he struggled. “Oh…God…no. No. No. No. You’re going to be that dad? I have to live with that dad?” He laughed somewhat hysterically, not sure what to think.

“Well, if you’re going to think of it like that, so does she,” Sander answered, pointing at Amelia, whose green, tiredly blinking eyes slowly tracked back and forth between them as they talked. 

Still grinning, clearly far too pleased with himself, he picked Ziggy up off his lap and placed him on the bed as he went by. He grabbed the book from Robbe’s end table and sauntered back towards them. 

He handed Robbe the book, gave Amelia a quick kiss on the cheek, and then stepped toe to toe in front of Robbe. He rubbed their noses together and whispered, “Baby, you have no idea.” He let his nose trail down Robbe’s cheek, over his jaw, and onto his neck, where he nuzzled it for a second before wrapping them both in a hug. “There is a whole world of dad jokes out there just waiting to be exploited, and I intend to do my part,” he murmured into Robbe’s hair. Robbe scoffed and rolled his eyes as Sander pulled back to give Amelia another kiss. “She is one lucky girl,” he said, smirking at Robbe, and before Robbe could protest, he’d kissed Robbe’s cheek too, adding, “And you are one lucky guy. I’m going to make you laugh so much.” 

“Sa-an, uuuuugh. You mean you’re going to make me groan and want to wash my brain out with soap.”

Taking several steps back towards his desk, he just raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “Eh, yeah, that too!” As he sat down, he threw a teasing look over his shoulder and said, “I have to admit I’m looking forward to that as well.” 

Robbe pressed Amelia’s ear into his head and covered the other one up with his hand. He looked pointedly at Sander and muttered, “Asshole,” before turning to walk back to Amelia’s room. 

About halfway back, he heard Sander shout, “You owe me a Euro!”

“Not a chance. You earned that one!” he called back over his shoulder. “You’re looking forward to torturing me with dad jokes. You deserved it!”

“Love you!”

“Uuuuugghhh!”

After that, Sander’s jokes came more frequently. Sometimes they were clever; sometimes Robbe laughed because they were actually that funny or that bad; most of the time he sighed and gave Sander a long suffering look. However, he responded, Sander always looked pleased with himself, and Robbe couldn’t help smiling at him idiotically, secretly impressed (and yes, also disgusted). There he was, the love of his life, telling increasingly terrible jokes and being excited about it.

It’s not how he imagined his life would go. If he were honest, none of this was how he imagined his life, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

When everything he had felt so perfect, he guessed he could suffer through a few dad jokes every week. There were worse things.

Bonus (Sander’s worst joke to date)

Sander: knock knock

Robbe: *groans* who’s there

Sander: centipede

Robbe: *sigh* centipede who?

Sander: centipede on the Christmas tree (Santa peed)

Robbe: 🙄🤔😂

***

I’ve been sitting on Sander getting into dad jokes for a looooooong time. I hope this was fun and made sense.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #i want it all #behind the scenes of iwia #this one's only about 1k

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Hiii ally💕 I’m loving your behind the scenes of I Want it All!! They’re so cute 🥰🥰 Whenever you get the chance, I was wondering if you had any of what Sander and Robbe talk about, like when they’re alone without Amelia or their friends around? This is like after they’ve gotten together but it can be before that too!

Heyyyyy Tasfia!!! 💕💕💕 Thank youuuuuu 🥰🥰 and I'm sorry I've been sitting on this for a few weeks. I had to really think about this one, and I wasn't in a place where original thoughts were happening. But now I am, so here you go. I hope you like it!!! 😌

Behind the Scenes of “I Want it All”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Communication is key

Sander and Robbe talk about everything and nothing. 

Of course they share about their jobs and what’s going on there; they talk about Amelia, specifically how she’s developing or what next step they need to take in her development, and they talk about their families, Ziggy, and their friends; but mostly their evenings are taken up with necessary daily communication, organizing the basic elements of their lives, like discussing their schedules and appointments, grocery lists, what to have for dinner, who's turn it is to cook, when Amelia was last changed, how they should spend their evening, what's happening tomorrow, etc. Robbe's always worried that they'll forget something, so they have post-it notes everywhere with reminders, like a running grocery list on the refrigerator or a checklist for Amelia by the front door. (When necessary, Robbe leaves post-its on Sander's keyboard to make sure he sees them.) Sometimes, though, they just leave little notes for one another, an "I love you," on Robbe's work bag, a "Hey Sexy," on Sander's sketchbook, a "Miss you already," on the bathroom mirror, or a "Can't wait to rip these off of you later," lying on Sander's jeans in his drawer. Much to Jens's amusement and Sander's embarrassment (tho secretly he appreciates it; he will just never admit it, never) their wall calendar is color coded. Robbe assigned everyone a color, and he keeps track of all their schedules that way. Every time he adds something to it he can’t suppress the feeling of accomplishment that briefly warms his chest. Sander rolls his eyes at him and lovingly calls him a “dork,” and Robbe just shrugs his shoulders and grins. So what if he likes being organized and knowing where everyone is supposed to be? So yeah, much of the time they’re just keeping on top of the mundane aspects of life. 

Their phone messages, however, are full of memes and gifs, links to tiktoks and funny YouTube videos, mostly stupid, goofy stuff, and lots of teasing and flirting. A lot of flirting. In fact, Sander loves to send Robbe inappropriate texts at work. He’s made it his personal goal to make him blush at least once a week and to have to physically leave his work space at least once a month. Robbe always sends him back angry gifs and middle finger emojis whenever he goes too far, but Sander just answers something like, “Shut up, you love it, now hurry home so I can make good on my promise.” Very occasionally the inappropriate flirting travels the other direction, but as Robbe is the one outside of the house, surrounded by coworkers, it’s rare. He’s more concerned with hiding his phone screen and responding to texts in the bathroom or under his desk out of sight. They message each other all day every weekday, and Robbe knows it’s a problem; but he doesn’t care. (They’ll sometimes even do it while sitting on the couch alone together because they are very mature.)

When Amelia’s finally asleep, that’s when they are able to relax and talk about whatever, and they do talk about anything and everything. They’ll reminisce about the past and make plans about the future. Currently, they’re planning their honeymoon, so they spend hours suggesting ideas and researching possibilities. Robbe has a list of running notes in his phone, and they add to it all the time. They also imagine future trips with Amelia, like taking her to New York with them next time or taking her to Disneyland when she’s a little older. Robbe will often tell Sander about the current book he’s reading or something funny he saw during the day, and Sander will ask for opinions about his drawings or tell a funny story from earlier in the day (there’s always a “You’ll never believe what Amelia did” or a “Your cat did this” story to share). When they watch movies or shows, Sander will listen indulgently while Robbe complains about how the book is better (or not as the case may be), and regardless, he’ll wind up giving a thirty minute lecture about how they are different and whether it’s a good thing or not; and Robbe will listen with a fond eyeroll as Sander makes a game out of naming a song within a few introductory notes. They also like to argue and tease, more like friendly bickering really, about music and movies, actors and books, food and drinks, anything they can disagree on. Robbe will even purposefully defend a position he doesn’t agree with just to watch Sander get wound up and passionate about it.  More than anything, though, they flirt with one another. Whatever they’re talking about, there’s a heavy dose of innuendo and touching involved that they use to their own advantage to make a point or win (aka sidetrack) an argument. They are healthy and young, so they do talk about sex and how hot they think the other is a lot. It just happens. They could be talking about something boring, and somehow one of them will flip it into something suggestive that leads them to the bedroom. Many of their conversations end up devolving into some kind of wrestling or tickling session (because, again, they are very mature). There’s also a lot of “Sorry I didn’t hear that. I was distracted...bc you’re hot,” or “Did you hear me? Are you even listening?” (”Nope. I was staring at your ____”).  No matter what they’re talking about, it almost always ends in laughter because that’s the most important part of their relationship, that they have a lot of fun together. They are always laughing and giggling together, and they wouldn’t change a thing.

One thing they both appreciate, though, is that they don't have to talk at all. They love being together and take comfort in each other’s presence, and sometimes it’s just nice to be together, maybe holding one another, maybe not. It’s always been this way, and as they’ve grown and their relationship has changed, this aspect hasn’t. They are content to just sit together and do their own thing--Robbe reading or scrolling through his phone and Sander drawing and/or listening to music. Or they’ll just cuddle in silence or while watching tv. It’s comfortable and homey, and they find it just as enjoyable as the laughter.

***

I hope this is what you were looking for. 🙈💕😌 As I said, it took me a while to figure out what to write because what do they talk about?  *I dunno....whines* lol  Thank you for your ask. It was sweet, and I had a lot of fun thinking about it after my initial panic. 💕💕✨

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #behind the scenes of iwia #Tasfia💫 #lovely people #i want it all asks #my asks #I’m trying to decide what to write next: the yoga au or the IWIA honeymoon chapter #decisions decisions #I want it all

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

I Want it All, Behind the Scenes

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

This one just doesn’t fit in the timeline even though I’ve been imagining it for over half a year. Amelia’s not old enough yet. I originally wanted to make it a whole bonus chapter, but I realized there was no plot, nothing’s going on. It’s just this, so it fits better here. One of my favorite sobbe images lives here (it’s less Amelia and more Sobbe).

How the f*ck do you braid hair?

Robbe and Sander were lucky, or at least it seemed that way until they were woefully unprepared. Amelia’s hair grew in slowly. She had a dusting of light blond hair for a year, and for the next two years or so she had short curls that covered the back of her head. The curls turned into tight ringlets around three, and the ringlets eventually grew out into long waves. By the time they seriously needed to consider ponytails, brushes, and hair accessories, Amelia was almost four, four years of not paying much attention to her hair, four years of being able to ignore this one totally foreign step in getting her ready every day.

And then suddenly they couldn’t ignore it anymore. Amelia’s hair was a mess, a snaggly, ratty, frizzy mess, and they had no idea what to do. Brushing it was self explanatory but then what? If they left it down, she’d just get more food in it, and it would be a tangled mess again by bedtime. Ponytails were the obvious answer. Robbe, having had long hair on and off, was quite comfortable putting her hair up. It only took him a few tries to switch to doing it for someone else instead of himself. The problem was that Amelia was often still in bed when Robbe left for work. Sander had never had long hair, and he struggled with gathering all the hair and brushing it smooth at the same time, the brush slipping out of his grip or hair falling every which way. Forget the hair tie. Figuring out how to remove it from his wrist while holding the hair and then somehow getting it around all the strands of hair without it looking lumpy and bumpy was nearly impossible. As someone who worked with his hands, he couldn’t help feeling frustrated at his inability to figure it out.

Robbe knew all he needed was practice, practice he couldn’t have on a squirmy, wiggly, cries anytime the brush goes near her head four year old. At the time, Robbe’s hair was about chin length, so he suggested Sander practice on him. So there they were, Robbe sitting on the floor, Sander on the couch behind him, brushing and playing with his hair. Robbe didn’t mind. He enjoyed Sander’s hands in his hair, and everyone once in a while, Sander would get distracted. He’d kiss Robbe’s neck or massage his shoulders, even his scalp. It felt nice, and the whole thing was intimate and relaxing. They just put on a show and chatted comfortably while Sander worked. He tried a low pony, a high pony, pigtails. He practiced tightening the hair tie without ruining everything. He got the hang of it after a few nights of practice, and problem solved. Amelia’s pigtails the next morning looked perfect. They even experimented with headbands, bows, and clips. Amelia’s response, “Ooooh, shiny! More!”

Everything was fine until Amelia watched and really paid attention to Frozen for the first time. Then, she wanted “Elsa hair.” Braids. Braiding. How the fuck do you braid hair? How do you braid like that? This time, they were both at a complete loss. Robbe could only shrug when Sander turned to him for help. Determined to figure it out, they returned to the couch, this time armed with YouTube tutorials, a spray bottle, and a comb. Sander started with a basic braid. Robbe’s hair wasn’t long enough for a single braid, so he covered Robbe’s head in little braids as he practiced over and over again. Once he was out of hair and felt reasonably confident, he combed them out with his fingers. As he’d sprayed it with water first, Robbe’s hair now fell in tight waves around his head. Sander couldn’t help smiling and playing with it, carding his fingers through it and pulling on the curls. Robbe huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes, and leaned his head back on the couch between Sander’s knees, looking up at him. “Are you quite finished?” he asked. “Never,” Sander said seriously. “This is the best excuse I’ve ever had to play with your hair.” He bent over and pecked Robbe’s lips.

The next night Sander tackled the dreaded French braid. Comb between his teeth, phone precariously balanced on his knees, hands and fingers all over the place, he tried to follow the instructions. It was a mess. No matter what he did, the hair fell to the sides, or bunched, or looked uneven or crooked, or both. It looked nothing like it was supposed to. After an hour of failure and far too much pulling and yanking on his poor husband’s hair, he gave up. They tried the next day. Same results. They tried again. Awful. And again. Even worse. Sander feared Robbe’s hair would start falling out because of how tight he held it sometimes. 

After five days, he wanted to give up, but Robbe gave him a hug, kissed his hands, and told him he’d figure it out. Robbe still loved Sander’s hands in his hair, and apart from the occasional pull, it felt wonderful. He decided that Sander needed a distraction, a way to get out of his own head. He set some new rules. In between each attempt Sander would kiss Robbe’s neck and tell him one thing he did well. If he didn’t curse during a whole try, he got a kiss on the lips, and if he didn’t express any negative self talk, Robbe would make out with him for a full ten seconds (it was definitely longer, but who’s counting?). Every time he succeeded in putting a hair tie at the bottom, regardless of what it looked like, Robbe would tell him one thing he loved about him. The game, and all the kisses, relaxed Sander, and he was able to find a rhythm. The braids improved steadily, so much so that three days later, he had a recognizable French braid. Feeling like he might burst with pride, Robbe rolled to his knees, hair still done up, and crawled into Sander’s lap. They kissed and kissed, and Sander’s hand wound its way back up into his hair. He removed the hair tie and combed the braid out with his fingers, and Robbe’s hair fell around his face, tickling Sander’s cheeks, as he deepened the kiss.

Having assumed they were done, Robbe was surprised to see the comb and spray bottle in Sander’s hands the next night. “I thought you were happy with it?” he asked. “I am,” Sander grinned. “Tonight we work on a double French braid. You’re going to owe me a lot of kisses.”

***

I’ve been wanting to write about Sander braiding Robbe’s hair for months. I just love the idea that he’d need to practice and that Robbe would be his guinea pig. Imagine Robbe sitting there relaxed, eyes closed while Sander meticulously braids his hair, his tongue caught between his teeth, his eyes determined. I love it.  

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. This behind the scenes thing was a brilliant idea, and I’m having so much fun sharing all the ideas I “cut” out of the story. See you next time!

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #behind the scenes of iwia #robbe x sander #sander braiding robbe's hair #sander's hands aren't working again #but this time it's for a different reason #😂😂😂

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

I Want it All, Behind the Scenes

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

I have two stories today. Ideally I'll get the other one out later.

Both of these are ideas I've wanted to include for awhile, but they just never fit in. Since this one involves dialogue and got a bit long, I'll put most of it under the cut. Happy reading!

Robbe's Lab Coat

Robbe's really good at not bringing his work home. He can usually compartmentalize the two parts of his life and views his daily train ride home as the barrier that keeps his work stress away from his family. Due to this (and his general lack of scientific knowledge because Arts Major), Sander doesn't always know what happens at Robbe's lab. The first time Robbe mentioned having to wear a lab coat (months before they were together), Sander’s head snapped up, caught off guard. His heart stuttered, and his breath caught as visions of Robbe in a lab coat danced across his brain. It was a long moment before he could respond. He aimed for nonchalance, raising an eyebrow and asking, "What lab coat? I've never seen a lab coat."

"I wear one every day. They don't leave the lab," Robbe answered, completely unaware that he'd just rocked Sander's world.

Sander's eyes blinked rapidly, his mind racing, and he turned away, trying to hide his, most likely very visible, inappropriate thoughts. To cover it up, he said, "So, you like, wear a dirty, nasty lab coat every day. Aren't they supposed to be white? Gross."

Giggling, Robbe responded, "Of course not, idiot. They wash them there. You know, because sometimes we work with hazardous substances." He rolled his eyes and gave Sander a shove before heading off to play with Amelia.

Sander, however, didn't immediately follow. He needed a moment to recover, and if he was honest with himself, he never fully recovered because he thought about it constantly. He couldn't help imagining how hot Robbe would look in a white lab coat, and it was a serious turn on. Over the next months, his mind would randomly drift to it at the most inconvenient times, and even after they were together, it was an image he kept close to his heart.

The day Robbe accidentally brought one home, Sander nearly glowed with excitement. Someone had given Robbe a pile of folders and paperwork with a folded, clean coat tucked in the middle by accident. He'd tossed it all in his bag and forgot about it until he got home and sorted through the pile as he unpacked. When he pulled it out, Sander's eyes lit up, glittering with mischief. He made Robbe put it on and walk up and down the hallway. Robbe rolled his eyes the whole time but didn't complain when Sander pulled him into a hard kiss when he finally strolled back into the kitchen. Sander fiddled with the collar and lapels, turned Robbe around twice, circled him slowly, opened and closed the front a few times, and finally buttoned and unbuttoned it. He inspected Robbe, chin in his hand, and then suddenly holding up his hands, he shouted, “Wait!” He ran to a drawer and pulled out a few pens and stuck them in the pocket of the lab coat. “Perfect.”

 At that, the fond, indulgent look Robbe had worn the whole time slipped, and he couldn’t control his laughter. “Really San?” he asked, gasping between giggles.

Sander ignored Robbe’s outburst and continued examining Robbe closely. Bemused, he murmured, "I never knew I had such geeky fantasies."

Still laughing, Robbe placed a hand on his shoulder to steady himself. "Seriously? You said I was your fantasy, and you didn't know you had a thing for nerds?"

That caught Sander’s attention, and he met Robbe’s gaze. "Uhhh, errrr,” he sputtered, “When you put it like that, I mean, maybe, but you never looked like a nerd, just acted like one."

"Hey!"

"Shut up, you said it!  Anyway, now you look like one, and...errr, I like it very much.” He stepped forward, placing his hands on Robbe’s hips and repeated, “I like it very much.” Again, there were no complaints from Robbe when Sander kissed him, nor when his hands slipped inside the coat to wrap around his waist and hug him closer.

Needless to say the lab coat never returned to the lab (Sander hid it in his drawer for awhile to make sure), and if he could coax Robbe into it on occasion, no one need guess what happened after.

***

So yeah, this totally happened, but it covered too much time to include in the fic. (Slight disclaimer: I have no idea how these things work -> Arts major 😂)

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #i want it all #robbe ijzermans #robbe x sander #sander driesen #behind the scenes of iwia #I started this a few hours ago and got interrupted #so I hope it makes sense #i hope this makes someone laugh #bc i laughed #have i mentioned how much i love Sander #Sander being Sander

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Can you share some behind the scenes info from I Want it All? Like something that you know about them that’s not in the fic or future chapters. Something small. I just miss them so much.

Oooooooh, let me see. Hmmmmmmmm. (This is such a great idea!!!💕💕💕)

Robbe and Pillows: A Love Story

Robbe has been stealing Sander's pillow for a very long time. It started as something he did for comfort when he was little. He’d hug Sander’s pillow close as they hung out in Sander's room, talking or playing games, often when he spent the night, needing the comfort because he missed his mom, or because his parents' fighting was worse. Eventually he began reaching for it in his sleep, and Sander would let him take it and hug it close to his chest, his head resting on one end. The problem was that Sander only had the one pillow, so after a few nights of waking up with a sore neck, he asked his mother for another one. At first, he tried to give Robbe his own pillow, but it never worked. He'd still steal the one under Sander's head and cuddle it close, so Sander decided to hide the pillow under the bed when Robbe came over. They'd start out the same as always, and when Robbe invariably stole the pillow in his sleep, Sander would pull the one off of the floor and sleep comfortably. When they were older, they made sure to have multiple pillows so that Robbe's thievery wasn't a problem; but it was still always the same pillow. Sander made sure to have his Robbe pillow readily available when Robbe spent the night. He always thought of it as Robbe's more than his. It stopped when they started living together in the flatshare (and after) because they had their own space, their own beds. It wasn't until they went to New York that Sander remembered because Robbe stole his pillow even before he fell asleep. It had made his heart ache. When Robbe moved in after Amelia, the pillow saga returned full force with Robbe stealing any and all of his pillows at any time of the day or night. Sander would catch him napping, his face stuffed into Sander's pillow while his arms hugged it tightly. It stopped at night when they got Ziggy because the cat took up too much space, pushing Robbe closer to Sander. There wasn't room for a pillow between them. That's when Sander found Robbe hugging him in the middle of the night, and apart from it making his mind and heart race, it didn't bother him at all. He took it as an excuse to hug back.

Now that they are together, Sander has realized that the pillow was always a surrogate for him, Robbe needing him, wanting to hug him and not knowing it. He's more than happy at the change and adores cuddling with him at night and waking up in his arms. The funny thing is that he still finds Robbe snuggling into his pillows when he’s not there, like when he goes to Amelia in the middle of the night and comes back to find Robbe on his side of the bed enveloped in his pillows. It’s always been a joke between them but now Sander looks upon it with such fondness that it makes him ache, that Robbe always wanted him and was so incapable of expressing it that his subconscious took over. His husband is damn adorable.

***

Omg, this was the best idea ever, thank you! This is what I have right now, but I’d be happy to do this again if anyone’s interested. Thanks again!! 🥰🥰🥰

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #i want it all #i want it all asks #lovely anons #is this a headcanon for my own fic? #behind the scenes of IWIA #robbe and pillows a love story

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Behind the Scenes of “I Want it All”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

This one is about their wedding. It didn’t fit in anywhere, so here you go. (1.3k) **Posting this one specifically in honor of Sobbe’s 2 year anniversary** Link to fic.

“Oh no, don’t you dare!”

Even though Robbe and Sander were only engaged for a month, they still had plenty of time to plan (and bicker) and essentially lay down the ground rules for their wedding. Of course, there were the important details, like where, when, and how, which ended up being pretty easy for the most part. Robbe requested that they keep it small and only invite family to the ceremony, and Sander suggested the low key after-party, nothing fancy, just a regular party to celebrate. The when was the most frustrating because it was out of their control, and everything took longer than they thought it should. The real question, though, was “how much,” and not in the sense of cost (because they were definitely keeping that low; kids are expensive, you know) but how much of a big deal they’d let Zoë (and by extension Milan) make. They knew their friends and knew that left to their own devices it would be a much grander affair than they wanted, so there was much bartering and compromising on both sides about the party. Milan got his fancy cocktails and snacks; Zoë had permission to decorate with lights and fall colors (within reason); but Robbe and Sander drew the line at servers, catering, and any attempt at making them the center of attention (”No fucking announcements. It’s just a party!”). Sander insisted on creating the playlist, and at least this one time, they all agreed.

There were also smaller details that needed to be handled. Robbe insisted that they wear suits (partially because he’d take advantage of any excuse to get Sander in one again), and Sander agreed only if he didn’t have to buy fancy shoes. They bickered for weeks about whether or not to wear a tie (”because I want to be able to breathe when I kiss you!”), and while they both wanted Amelia to wear the simple, white dress Robbe’s mom had saved from her childhood, she took one look at a lime green one with tulle everywhere and fell in love. The green dress it was. In an interesting turn of events, Sander added a request from his mother, swearing that she would disown both of them if they did anything childish with the cake, as it was a pet peeve of hers, and Robbe rebutted that they skip the cake entirely. “We don’t even like cake! I mean, who cares? We could have donuts for fuck’s sake. And anyway, I’m pretty sure we can be trusted not to throw food on our wedding day.” 

Pursing his lips, Sander narrowed his eyes meaningfully and picked up Amelia from where she sat in her bouncy seat, not paying attention to them in the slightest. “Amelia,” he asked, “What do you want for dessert?”

“Cake!” burst from her mouth, loud and clear. 

Sander kissed her cheek and put her back in the seat, flicking a rattly toy to get her attention. She immediately swatted it and started bouncing up and down with renewed energy. He turned back to Robbe. “She,” he emphasized, “Wants cake.” 

Well, shit. 

“Annnd,” Sander continued, grinning, “My mom’s concern is justified. We don’t exactly have a perfect record with cake, or food in general, or maturity honestly, so...” 

They finally compromised on an ice cream cake, and Robbe promised to be on his best behavior, though, poking Sander in the ribs, he added, “My behavior is entirely dependent on whether you provoke me, so don’t forget to behave yourself!”

There was one detail, however, that they disagreed on completely. It started out as a joke. Thinking to lighten the mood one night after checking for updates on their adoption paperwork (the update: there is no update, there will never be an update, this will take for-fucking-ever), Robbe joked that Sander was not allowed to carry him into their flat on their wedding night. In true Sander fashion, he immediately wanted to do just that. The idea took hold, and the more Robbe shook his head “No” and giggled, the more Sander wanted to do it. He wanted it viscerally. His hands itched to hold Robbe in his arms, to feel his weight pull at his biceps and shoulders, to have Robbe’s arms wrapped around his neck. It was the symbolism, really. He wanted to carry his world into their future, and once the image was burned into his imagination, he couldn’t help himself. Robbe just continued to laugh and say, “No way, c’mon San!” which forced Sander to laugh it off too and only bring it up with a teasing tone.

By the day of their wedding, they hadn’t come to any kind of real agreement or compromise. When they arrived at the door of their flat after their party, they eyed each other warily with suspicious smiles, standing at arm’s length, not touching anywhere for the first time all evening. Robbe opened the door with his key, sneaking glances over his shoulder at Sander, and when he turned, he could see the teasing glint lighting up Sander’s eyes. When Sander smirked and took a step forward, arms raised, Robbe cried, “Oh no, don’t you dare!” and ducked under Sander’s reach, lunging towards him. He tackled Sander around the waist, and as Sander’s momentum carried him further over Robbe’s back, Robbe braced himself and lifted Sander over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Sander screeched in shock, and laughing, Robbe carried him into their flat, Sander yelping and smacking his backside the whole way. Robbe carted him down the hallway, all the way to the couch, and clumsily, plopped him down on it, collapsing in a giggly mess in his lap. Sander chuckled and sputtered briefly but then fell silent. Finally sitting back on his heels, Robbe took one look at Sander’s face, somehow looking both crestfallen and awed, and felt a little guilty. He rose up and placed his palm on Sander’s cheek, his other hand pushing back his hair til he could cup the back of his neck. “You’re really disappointed, aren’t you?” He kissed him lightly. 

“Kinda,” Sander responded, shrugging it off. 

Unconvinced, Robbe brushed their noses together. “Still,” he said, “You’re disappointed.” 

Sander pressed his forehead into Robbe’s and rolled his side to side against it, eyes closed, clearly thinking. Robbe could feel Sander’s smile before he spoke, finally admitting, “It was kind of hot, actually. Like, really fucking hot, and I’m trying to figure out which feeling is strongest. Do I pout or drag you to the bedroom? It’s a real problem.” Robbe met Sander’s eyes, and they burst into laughter. Sander pulled him to his chest and hugged him close, rubbing his nose into his hair. In his ear, he whispered, “You, my ridiculously sexy husband, are going to kill me.”

“That’s what you always say,” Robbe mumbled, trailing kisses up his neck.  

“And it’s always true,” he chuckled. “Now,” his hands snuck down to Robbe’s hips, and he lifted an eyebrow. “Shall we?”

Huffing a laugh, Robbe climbed out of his lap and stood, holding his hands out to pull Sander up after him. Without warning, Robbe wrapped his arms around his neck and jumped. Sander, caught off guard, barely caught his legs and staggered under his weight for a moment, stumbling sideways until he could brace himself with his calves against the couch. 

“Ugh,” he groaned, “I’m beginning to regret my life choices. You’re heavy.” 

“You’re not exactly light yourself,” Robbe retorted, pulling on the hairs at his nape. “Though, I am sorry, even if I kinda prefer it this way. Now we’re even,” Robbe murmured into his collarbone. 

Sander laughed and said, “I’ll take it.” And he meant it. This was good too, better than good because not only did he eventually get to hold Robbe, but he also had the delightful experience of being manhandled by him. On that thought, he adjusted his grip to pull Robbe closer and connected their lips. The kiss turned passionate almost immediately, and Sander found himself struggling once again to remain upright. 

Robbe smiled against his mouth and said, “Maybe we should get going.” And they did, kissing the whole way, Sander brushing up against the wall for balance before continuing his crooked path to the bedroom.

Robbe couldn’t help reflecting that this wasn’t all that different from any other time Sander had carried him into the bedroom. They’d both been a little silly about the whole thing. It wasn’t really an argument. No one lost, and they both won—because they had each other.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #i hope this turned out all right #it took me forever to be happy with it and i'm still not sure about it #i want it all #behind the scenes of iwia #happy 2 year anniversary #to my favorite fake boys #did I post it at 21:21 on purpose? why yes I did

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

oh rhe behind the scenes info from I Want it All is so super cute I need more

Edit: Part 1

Hi anon!! So glad you liked it! 🥰🥰 thank you for asking, and I’d love to share more. I actually found some notes that I never used, so don’t worry. Here’s a quick one about Amelia (I actually just cut the idea from the Halloween chapter bc it no longer fit). This is an “in the future” story, maybe 6 months to a year from now, give or take.

The Princess likes King Arthur, typical.

Robbe and Sander were warned early on by the ladies at swim class to be very careful and discerning when introducing Amelia to tv and movies. Little kids fixate, they said, and they knew from experience that whatever show or movie she latched onto first would be the one they’d be stuck with for awhile. If they weren’t careful, they’d be watching a movie they abhorred every day for a year. They told horror stories of being stuck with Caillou and PJ Masks and wanting to gouge their eyes out with legos.

She was far too little at the time for them to worry, but they took the advice to heart and were prepared when she started noticing the tv and stopping to watch it. They wanted something with a powerful, female protagonist and something they both could stand to watch over and over. They realized quickly that they didn’t have too many options, so they extended it to no damsels in distress. They tried Moana, Mulan, and Frozen first, just having it on in the background. Nope. Nothing. She glanced at it and kept going. That was fine. Fine. She was just too young. They waited another few months and tried them again. Still nothing, but she was continually checking out the tv even when it was off, which was most of the time. So they tried Tangled and Aladdin. Nothing. Not even the “big big kitties” of the Lion King interested her. After that, they gave up on choosing something specific and just paid more attention to what they allowed on the tv, turning off anything that looked obnoxious after a few minutes. So much for being prepared and ahead of the game.

In the end, Amelia found it herself. The Sword in the Stone came on as an auto-play after a random cartoon they’d had on in the background. Wart’s “Woah-wii-whoa” caught her attention, and the next thing they knew, she was plopped on the floor in front of the couch, clutching her blanket, cackling as the milk and sugar waltzed across the table. She thought the squirrels were funny and cute, covered her eyes with the blanket when the barracuda chased the fish Wart, and squealed with delight when Madam Mim turned into a dragon. She thought the whole thing was hilarious. From that day on, she always asked for the “Squirrel Wart and Dragon lady” movie and couldn’t decide whether to be Wart or Merlin for Halloween. She even played Merlin with her tea set and stood on her stool next to Sander’s suitcase, waving her arms around, singing nonsense syllables, and she asked for an Archimedes (owl) stuffy for Christmas. Neither of them could have guessed this would be the film she’d like best, but they weren’t complaining. It was a cute movie with nothing really problematic in it. So much for control. Their stubborn girl wasn’t about to let them dictate her interests. She’d like what she liked. They might as well be thankful they were learning that lesson now.

***

I’m sorry it’s taken me a few days to respond to this. I’ve been writing the Halloween chapter and have kind of been in the zone the last few days. Thank you so much for your ask. 🥰🥰 It’s fun to think I’m not the only one enjoying this.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #behind the scenes of iwia #i want it all #my mom looooooves to tell me how I watched Dumbo ever day for nearly a year #just a few minutes sufficed but I had to watch it #in recent years the Frozen craze has been intense #anyway #here’s my story of Robbe and sander trying to control it #and failing miserably #tho I personally approve her choice bc I love that movie #haven’t watched dumbo since I was little no thanks #my cousin’s kid loved Caillou and he wanted to die it was so awful #I would just like to point out how proud I am that Mulan autocorrected to Milan #I have truly beaten the system

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Am writing a new bts for I want it all. Should be up later today.

#I miss them #sobbe #I want it all #behind the scenes of iwia #I guess the series wasn’t done

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

The goal is to post a behind the scenes of “I Want it All” tonight at 21:21.

#bc I can #sobbe #i want it all #behind the scenes of iwia #wtfock

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Since I took last week off from my bang fic for Spring Break and this week off to write Sander, I can do some iwia bts before focusing on the bang fic again next week.  Whoo!

#i want it all #behind the scenes of iwia #two of these are favorite ideas and one is a suggestion #and i'm excited #bang fic bang fic bang fic #deadline is looming