#every day of my life i am only more and more confused by people

[crowcryptid]

New term for my coworker: let’s player brain (but specifically one that has a mostly child audience)

why? Cause she narrates all her actions to herself.

And she ONLY does this when it’s just me and her in the room. If someone else is here she doesn’t do it. When she’s in the room next door, which i can hear her in cause she leaves the doors open, she’s quiet. And when im in the other room and it’s just her and the other coworker, she stays quiet unless they’re having an actual convo.

I don’t understand. Clearly you have some control over this if you stop doing it. So why are you doing it

[milo-is-rambling]

Me when I want to be wanted more than anything else

[gatun-gatunesco]

...

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.

[charmedreincarnation]

MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!

Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.

So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …

So What did I do

I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).

During the Day

https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV

https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT

During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!

Overnight

https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH

https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1

What I Manifested

- Master shifting abilities

- Master void state abilities

- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven

- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.

I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.

I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.

My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!

I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖

[shitpostingkats]

An Asexual's love letter to Good Omens 2

There's an infamous quote by Neil Gaiman going around, regarding the general vibe of season 2, and many people (I believe humorously) yelling that it could not be further from the truth. Particularly in the last episode, where that happens.

I disagree.

The final episode of season 2 was deeply, deeply comforting to me. 

I am asexual. Have been my whole life. Even before I had the words to describe what that was, child-me had this feeling in their gut of being an outlier, that everyone was exaggerating, or in on some joke, that I wasn’t privy to. Because I was bombarded on all sides by shows and movies and books, telling the same story of love, again, and again, and AGAIN. It’s drilled into our brains with the same fervor as the days of the week, or the quadratic formula. Meet-cute -> misunderstanding ->declaration of feelings ->kiss. More or less steps can be added to account for runtime or complexity of narrative, but that’s the basic structure that a relationship follows. It MUST be, because that’s the formula every character who's ever been in a story goes through, often times when it even feels like an add-on, like it’s only there because this is a story, there HAS to be a romance. And it has to follow the steps.

For a long time, I felt love wasn’t for me, because if there’s only one way to be in love, I sure as hell wasn’t feeling it. 

Instead, the relationship I ended up in looked a lot like what Beezlebub and Gabriel go through. Meeting someone routinely until it starts to feel comfortable. Getting to know them and slowly growing more attached. Eating chips and listening to music.

We like to joke whenever someone asks us how long we’ve been together, because the answer is we just sort of slowly fell into it, and we honestly don’t know when the line got blurred between ‘friends’ and ‘partners’. And, at least for me, a good deal of that confusion, that hesitancy to label, came from the fact that what I was feeling, what we were, couldn’t be love. It couldn’t be romantic. 

We were just quiet and gentle.

And that wasn’t love.

Because it was slow, because it wasn’t physical, because there was no structure aside from consistency and companionship. Because it didn’t follow the Rules.

Then I found myself in stories, and it felt like a revelation.

Beelzebub and Gabriel aren’t the first time I’ve seen a love like I feel represented in a narrative, but it never stops feeling special. And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop celebrating it.

Throughout the sequence in the pub, I kept expecting them to “confirm” Gabriel and Beelzebub. A dramatic line, a kiss, a whatever. That’s what I’ve been taught to expect, after all, that’s the only way a relationship is “real”. Of course, this doesn't mean Crowley and Aziraphale sharing a dramatic kiss is wrong, or that I can’t see why it resonated with so many people, but for me. Those moments in the pub are worth so much more.The last scene might have been literally showstopping, but those handful of moments between the duke of hell and an archangel were the beating heart of the season for me. A simple love story in four scenes. No kisses. No ‘I love you’s. Not even any definition of what. The love Gabriel and Beelzebub have is strong enough for them to both want to shatter their worlds and flee their lives and it's just. 

It's just that. 

Two people in a pub, playing the other's favorite song, giving a little gift, buying a packet of crisps. 

That sequence means far more to me than any kiss ever could.

Love isn’t only real when it's hot and sudden and ephemeral, it can also be

Quiet.

And gentle.

And still romantic.

Still real.

[itoshiexx]

when you call them "husband" - part. 2

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you call them "husband" - part 2

pairings: itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo x fem!reader (no descriptions tho, just the words "wife" on rin's part) (separate) | warnings: established relationship, fluff, lovesick boys

notes: I'M ALIVE! i cant believe how long it's been since i had time/energy/creativity to write something, ohmy goddddddd. i'm so sorry for all the time it took to post this, but i wanna ty all so much for all the love on part 1 and all the requests for part 2! hopefully this will meet your expectations ♥ as always, i went a lil' overboard with rin's part. enjoy!

part 1 / masterlist

Itoshi Rin

rin was not a fan of social media. it was clear with the way his instagram only had 8 pictures despite being years since his career started, and even more so by the fact he had no other social media besides that. if he wasn’t so famous, people would say itoshi rin was a ghost or some artificial intelligence invention. 

it was one of the reasons people were very shocked when he started dating you, an influencer with millions of followers on every platform. rin was a private person, and you… well, you shared your life on the internet for everyone to see. to say you were polar opposites was an understatement.

however, you never forced your boyfriend to appear in any of your socials, only recording things for your own fun and memories and posting only what he allowed. rin was glad for that. he didn’t mind doing dumb things with you to see you smile, as long as the rest of the world couldn’t see how whipped he was for you.

also, you were kind of glad the professional athlete was so unaware of social media, because it meant you could do a lot of tiktok trends without the risk of him already knowing what was coming — which made everything more satisfying. 

and the trend you chose that day was especially good.

“hey everyone, it’s y/n here!” you chirped, waving your hands in front of your phone. however, you were actually recording rin, who was at the other side waiting for your sign to appear on the screen.

you continued speaking. “today i have a very special guest, who i’m sure you’re all very familiar with.” you gave the camera a little cheeky wink, and your boyfriend rolled his eyes with all your theatrics. “please welcome itoshi rin, my handsome husband!”

rin gave a step forward to start his way to you, but suddenly, his whole body froze, brows furrowing in what you could only call utmost confusion. silence took over the room for what felt like an eternity, and you had to suppress your laugh seeing the imaginary ‘loading’ wheel on his head.

rin.exe stopped working.

“baby?” you decided to intervene, honestly a little scared of how immobile rin was.

“you— i’m— did you just— did we—”

you could no longer hold your laughter, and rin’s favorite melody echoing through the walls of your shared apartment was probably what snapped him out of his trance. he immediately scowled and crossed his arms, cheeks burning red from his pathetic stutter.

“i am never doing these dumb videos with you again.”

“no, no, i’m sorry!” your giggles kept going, and you approached your pouty boyfriend, squishing his cheeks between your hands. the smooch you gave him was almost enough to make him melt. almost. rin still had some self respect.

he also didn’t want to admit how abnormally fast his stone heart was beating with the mere thought of being referred to as your husband — and, even better, referring to you as his wife. 

fuck. that certainly did make him feel lots of things. those stupid butterflies that were born the minute you met were roaming freely in his stomach, soaring with all the love he had harbored just for you. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” you said again, smiling like you swallowed the sun and all things good in this world. you might as well have. how else could rin explain the way you were his everything? “it was a prank i saw on tiktok.”

he arched his eyebrow, arms uncrossing to put his hands on your waist. “oh? so you don’t want me to be your husband?”

the itoshi was satisfied to see you flushing this time. “i— w-well, you see…”

and then you started rambling, just like you did every time something made you nervous. and rin could only look at you as if nothing else was worth looking at, because really, to him, it wasn’t. 

…well, maybe the sight of you walking down the aisle would get the cake. he might have to find out soon. 

Michael Kaiser

once you started dating bastard munchen’s star, michael kaiser, it was natural to have his world collide with yours. everything from football to blue hair dye to weird sleeping habits became a part of you as well, and you nourished every expanse of your world his presence alone was able to give.

your favorite part, besides learning all of him — his little habits, quirks and love languages that seemed to be crafted solely for you — was definitely immersing yourself in his culture. germany always seemed distant and quite detached from your life, and you loved to learn new things from different perspectives. 

food, traditions, language… michael loved teaching you things, giddy and secretly grateful for your excitement. it was his sparkly eyes that prompted you to learn a few things by yourself to surprise him and make him happy. 

the tiktok trend was just a nice coincidence. 

you phone was hidden on the kitchen balcony, camera recording and waiting for the moment your boyfriend would arrive in your shared apartment. luckily, kaiser was very punctual, and you didn’t have to wait much longer.

“liebling, i’m home!” you heard him scream from the front door, and you giggled to yourself, pretending to be busy chopping vegetables for dinner. 

you waited for his footsteps to near where you were, and, as soon as you felt he entered the camera frame, you answered:

“welcome home, ehemann!”

you didn’t have to turn around to see the way kaiser completely froze; arms stopping just before reaching your waist as if your figure was an illusion created by his tired mind. you fought hard to suppress your grin.

“what… did you say…?” his voice was low and uncertain, but there was no annoyance in it; just pure confusion. 

turning your head around to finally look at him, you were pleased to find your mikka with rosy cheeks and a bashful expression, so extremely unusual for a guy like him you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter on your chest. 

you gave him your best innocent look. “huh? isn’t that how you say boyfriend?”

“i-it’s husband, liebe. you called me husband,” his tone was still incredulous, and this time, you couldn’t keep your smile off your face. 

“oh, did i?”

your countenance seemed to finally snap him out of his trance, and michael’s eyebrows shot up, scoffing slightly — albeit still endearingly. his arms circled your waist and he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck. 

“how mean of you, baby. playing with my heart like that.” he trailed more kisses on your neck and jaw, making you squirm. “you tryin’ to kill me or something?”

you giggled again, both from the ticklish kisses he was giving you and the huge amount of love you had harbored just for him. “of course not, baby. i need you alive to make you my husband,” you jested.

“oh, yeah? you wanna make me your husband?”

“yes.” you shifted, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. kaiser hugged you a little tighter, feeling something fuzzy inside his chest. “is that a problem?”

“never,” he answered immediately. because it was true.

boyfriend, fiancé, partner, husband… michael didn’t mind what title would be bestowed to him — as long as he could keep being yours.

Mikage Reo

being the heir of one of the biggest corporations of the country and a professional football player made your boyfriend’s schedule pretty busy. therefore, thursdays like these, where you and him could have a nice walk around the park under the warm sunlight, hand in hand, were extremely rare — hence why they were so appreciated.

reo knew how much his frenetic agenda was a hard toll on your relationship, affecting both of you with distance, longing and short periods of time together. and, well, everyone knew how much of a goner he was for you, so it wasn’t surprising to see him give in whatever spare time he had in his hands — even going as far as making such time exist if there wasn’t any — to be with you for as long as he possibly could.

how could he deny your pretty little eyes pleading to have a stroll in the park with him ‘just for a few minutes?’

god, you were so selfless. he wanted to give you all of his minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years. and for all that’s worth, reo would never deny you of such a thing — he’d rather shoot himself than make you think you weren’t loved with every fiber of his being.

the weather was nice; a gentle breeze kissing both of your faces and making everything more pleasant. you were both chatting and appreciating the calm environment when you spotted an old lady a few feet ahead, selling different colored roses for the passersby. a smile was etched onto your lips, and you impulsively let go of reo’s hand to run towards her. 

“why hello, dear. would you like to buy a rose?”

your boyfriend watched you beam to the lady and slowly approached you, though still keeping his distance and trying hard not to intervene and buy all the roses for you. 

“yes, please! a red one would be perfect.”

“oh, who will you give it to?” asked the woman, already taking one flower from the bunch to hand it to you. 

your smile became slightly more bashful, “it’s for my husband!”

and fuck, if reo wasn’t already completely in love with you and thoroughly believed you were his soulmate until then, he certainly would after that very moment. he could feel his cheeks burning and his tongue rolling inside his mouth with how speechless he became. his heart soared with your words, excitement coursing through his veins with a love so overwhelming he nearly fell on his knees right there. 

heavens, he loved you so fucking much. and you made him realize it was about time he proved it to you (once again).

his hands easily found his phone in his pocket, and a quick call to the jewelry store was made while you busied yourself with paying for the flower. reo couldn’t stop smiling like a lovesick fool, but he didn’t mind.

“hey, mr. fuji, it’s mikage! you know, i think it’s time for that visit i mentioned a while ago…”

he might not fall to his knees right there, but he would drop at one knee very soon.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant and Michael Sheen at the Pub In The Park All Star Charity Gala 2024, 28.6.2024 :) ❤ (x)

Int: More than us, weren't they? Did you enjoy that Chiswick?! Brilliant.

Michael: What a night! What a night!

David: Oh, come on, Chiswick! Come on!

Michael: Hello, Chiswick!

Int: So, hello, boys. How you doing?

David: Hello. Hello. Very nice, very nice.

Int: Would you like to introduce yourselves to the crowd?

David: My name is Michael Sheen.

Michael: And my name is David Tennant!

Int: How many tequilas have I had? I'm really confused right now. Are you having a good time?

Michael: Yes!

David: The best!

Michael: I've had a spicy margarita and I'm of anyone's! Well, we don't rush. Don't rush everyone.

David: I'm so cool. I'm still wearing sunglasses at 9 o'clock at night.

Int: This has been noticed.

David: But because it's Chiswick and I am 53, they are prescription.

Int: You are not the only one here with prescription sunglasses

David: Means I can't take them off, that's the problem as the light falls.

Int: It adds a certain aloofness to the equation.

Michael: It gives him an exotic allure.

David: It does.

Michael: I've always said it.

David: It does. That's what the smell is.

Int: Why does everything sound better in your accent, Michael?

Michael: Exotic allure.

Int: Ooooh. Don't stop. Anyway, I digress. Right, so we are here appreciating everything about Pub In The Park. And are we enjoying it?

Crowd: Yeeeees!

Int: Yes. But tonight is very, very special because not only do we have all our usual wonderful restaurants, all of our lovely stages, all the bars, all the trees and the views and the Chiswick house, but we are also celebrating a charity. We are celebrating a wonderful gala evening this evening. So please, boys, tell us what it's all about.

David: It's from Multibank.

Michael: Yes!

David: Come on! There's a terrible... there's an awful amount of need in the country at the moment. We understand the need for food banks. Multibank is a food bank, but it's also fighting hygiene poverty. It's also providing people who don't have the stuff they need just to get through the day. Toothpaste and toilet rolls and all the stuff that we take for granted. There's a desperate need. Multibank is about providing families who don't have it with some of the... with the stuff that they need to go through life. And by buying a ticket tonight, you've already given at least ten pounds. So thank you, thank you, thank you.

Michael: Thank you!

David: If you'd like to give a bit more, we're not gonna stop you.

Michael: Don't. Don't do it!

David and Michael over each other: No, no. Don't do it. No, no, no. We're not good. We're not. Do it, do it. We're not gonna. Do it.

David: We're not gonna stop you. As you leave tonight, there'll be people with those little fancy machines.

Int: PDQs.

David: Whaat?

Michael: People be doing what?

David: Those little machines.

Michael: When you leave tonight, there'll be people doing that?

David: There'll be people doing that. But in this hand, they'll have a card machine. So we're doing that with this hand. And in this hand, you can tap and go. And you can give multibank another little bit as you leave. Once you're nice and drunk and you're not thinking about it, give them lots of money as you leave.

Michael: Yes.

Int: Absolutely.

Michael: But thank you for everything you've given so far!

David: Absolutely.

Michael: It's already been a massivelysuccessful evening, so thank you.

David: Yeah.

Int: Yes. We really appreciate it. And I know the aim is to raise 40,000 pounds this evening.

David: I think we've already done that. Let's make it 50.

All: Yass!

Int: We love that. And I'll tell you how we could even make that happen. Is that in your heads, every tune is played from now on that you like. Imagine that's about what? Tenner. So every tune you like from our next DJ, who's going to come on in a second. If you like the song, then in your head, you need to calculate that's a tenner each time to give to multibank. And I'm looking at you. And I'm looking at you, Rob, as well.Is that fair enough?

David and Michael: Yes.

Int: Yes, exactly.

David: If you want to see Michael Sheen DJ.

Int: Get over there. So, in that case, I think your DJ assistant is ready to accept you, Michael.

Michael: I'm going to hand you over to my trusty assistant on the decks, straight from Ibiza.

Int: Yes. Everybody, please go mad for the tunes of Vernon Kay!

[bahrtofane]

husband Jude headcannons

jude just really really enjoys married life

Word count - 2.3K+

Watch it - i got carried away sorry guys, proposal lore?? insanely sappy, even by my standards

—--

He's not a fan of you being known as his, rather he's your husband. Always correcting people during interviews and giving you the spotlight. Even when you shy away, not knowing where to look or what to say. He's always there, a gentle hand on your knee rubbing circles as he nods for you to continue. 

Every red carpet he wants to match, doesn’t care how big or small the event is. Gotta be a way you two look look a pair 

His fav is when you wear exactly the same thing so there’s no way to confuse anything for what it really is hehe 

Bouncing around while you get ready together, helping you get your shoes on while he tries his best to stand still while you fix his tie 

“Look okay?” he asks, head tilted 

You rub his arm, “you look great.” 

And he smiles wide, giving you pecks all over while you giggle, trying to shoo him away from you and closer to the door. your ride is waiting, but he doesn’t care. pouting for just one more kiss. please ? 

All his socials turn into your personal fan page, a big fat married in every bio, ring and all 

He has more posts about you then his actual job 

His teammates poke fun at it, “when are you gonna post us huh?”

He just rolls his eyes,”when I marry you i’ll think about it”

And that’s that

You're the first he runs to post a match, greeting you with the silly hand shake you perfected years ago. You think you could do it in your sleep at this rate. You came up with it ages ago when you kissed him after practice, playing with his fingers till he came up with the idea, and you with the actual hand shake. 

You're his biggest supporter, and him likewise. In every and anything you do, give him pompoms and he'd be your personal cheerleader at this point.

He just likes to have you at games. Waving obnoxiously while you tell him to pose. And he does, every time, sending hearts your way. He dedicates his goals your way. The kisses he would send the crowd in his youth now only go your way where you catch them like a teenager.

You see complications of it everywhere, he thinks it's endearing. He makes you watch them together on the living room tv while you grimace

“My face looks so weird there, oh my god.”

He flicks your arm, “you look great shush. Ha that was during el clasico, ah good times.” 

You roll your eyes but snuggle up against him anyway.

One of your favorite past times btw, nothing he loves better than a lazy morning in with you in his arms while he hits snooze on every alarm.

He tries to cook, with his stupid kiss the chef apron he got just for you. but he will need help, which you gladly give. You end up eating on the couch, covered in pillows watching cheesy shows. You've watched keeping up with the kardashians too many times to count and he still laughs out loud every time.

Jude is soft and sweet when he's not forced into a picture perfect smile and self 24/7. He's a silly guy, always trying to make you laugh. Teasing is his love language by the way.

But he's still sweet, leaving notes around your house for you to find when he has to leave for away games. Hearts and smiley faces littering every inch of the paper. Some frowny faces when he knows he'll miss you extra. 

He likes bringing you to family events and bragging about how cool you are, but everyone already loves you as is, he just likes to brag. Look at how cool the love of my life is everyone, I am sooo lucky you guys look look. 

Jobe has rolled his eyes far too many times, but he's happy to see his brother so happy. Plus you guys threw a fantastic wedding. A win is a win.

When you can't be there he facetimes you every second he possibly can. Blowing kisses when he has to go. 

“Judes been complaining all day I hope you know,” Aurélien pops his head into the screen. 

You snort, “ hello to you too Aurélien.”

He gives you a wave before ruffling the top of Judes hair as he pouts, fixing it just how he likes again, “they just don't get it,” he sighs dramatically.

You laugh, “sure baby, sure.”

You make sure to keep up with the match the best you can, texting him live reactions, even if you know he won't see them till later. He likes them all the same.

Your name on his phone is a simple "mine" with a bunch of heart emojis, the contact pic is one of the two of you together on vacation, smiling with your faces squished together while laying in the sand

It makes him smile every time. he thinks you’re the cutest

He's a big fan of nicknames, weather its a version of your first name, or just a good ole fashion baby. He rarely uses your actual name. He called you something so insane like pooki bear in public once and you have yet to let him live it down.

"in a restaurant was crazy," you squint at him.

He only giggles, "but it was soo funny baby come on."

Speaking of restaurants, this guy loves a good date night 

Gigdy as he comes down the hall in his pjs, grinning while showing you the new reservations, it’s your fav place ! 

Every anniversary he somehow finds a way to outdo himself, don't ask, because in truth he doesn't even know how he pulls it off, but anything for you. Anything. 

Even if it means hunting down the stuffed animal you had as a kid and couldn't find after you lost it in your couch cushions. He finds it, after months and months of searching, making Jobe help him look, it comes in the mail and he has to get creative to get you out of the house and away from the mail the day it's supposed to come.

It gets neatly wrapped and placed on your shared bed the morning of, surrounded by a collection of other gifts, your favorite flowers, and a cheesy note that you always end up crying at. 

The look on your face makes it all worth it, when you tackle him in a bone crushing hug, tumbling into the covers in a tangle of legs while you laugh in between sniffles, he loves you. Oh how he loves you 

It's been a tradition to end the night with the very place he proposed, his home, now yours. 

He doesnt think he could forget it even if he tried. It was a whirlwind of a day. Picture this: 

He's lost all his black socks, his (and your) favorite body wash just spilled all over the shower, his hair looks awful ( he got a haircut that morning), his cologne isn't where he left it, and the private chef he hired isnt replying. All while you're not even awake yet. 

He calls his mom because what else are you supposed to do when you're set to propose and everything is going wrong. 

She only chuckles softly over the phone, “calm down jude, just breathe. You'll find your things, just take a breather and come back to things with a clear head okay?”

So he does. Sitting on his bed, towel still on, frowning. He chooses to instead pat himself dry, get dressed, and give himself a pep talk in the floor length mirror at the corner of his room. 

Turns out his mom was right, things fix themself for the most part, his socks are stuck at the bottom of the dryer, his hair isn't as bad as he thought, he finds a better cologne in his collection, and a perfect body cream. It's gonna be a good day. 

He finishes the last of the day of prep, getting fancy candles, a lighter, and greeting the decorator. Yes he hired a decorator. 

It's nothing over the top, just little changes to make his home look a little softer, changing out the curtains, placing lace table cloth with details in your favorite color. The main event is his second living room that gets covered in an arch of your favorite flowers, gentle curling to just kiss the top of the new antique chandelier that will be holding the fancy candles too. He hopes you like it. He really really hopes you like it.

He's had this planned for ages, since the moment he first met you he thinks. 

When you greet him with a silly good morning text he only grows oh so fond of you, excited to see you. He told you it was a fancy dinner at his place. A change of pace from the resurates. Both of you prefer a much more intimate night in then cameras shoved into your face while a hundred people all yell a hundred things while you're trying to chew your food. 

So you get ready, dress up and make it for dinner. When you see the familiar face of the chef, Karlos, you give him a wave and get seated. Noticing the new table cloth but you don't say anything. You don't want to be wrong so early into the night. 

Jude comes in, nervous as a school boy as he takes your hand for a quick peek, running around like a maniac back and forth. He looks nice, in a signature all black suit, and smelling amazing per usual. 

Dinner is amazing, full of your favorite courses and Jude is jittery in his seat. 

“You okay?”

He nods, a little too fast, “oh yeah. I am. Don't worry.”

You raise a brow but dont push, thanking Karlos for the amazing meal as he cleans up and heads out for the night. 

Jude gets up, telling you to stay put while he'll be righttt back. Don't worry, remember! 

He comes back, unable to meet your eyes while he gives you his hand. You take it, sliding out of your seat and following him down the hall. There's flower petals on the floor now, you look at him, but he looks anywhere but at you, chewing his cheek.

He leads you to the second living room, where the furniture has been cleared out. Replaced by a walkway of flowers and candles, leading up to where an arch of your favorite flowers hugs the curtain, new ones.

Gently pulled back to reveal the floor to ceiling windows that give way to his yard. And the most gorgeous sunset you have ever seen. A chandelier hangs above you, decorated with more flowers, and the most ornate candles and bulbs you have ever seen.

Your eyes begin to water before he even gets down on one knee, his lip wobbles, holding your hand the whole time as he confesses every little moment and reason for his love.

He loves you, he adores you. You're- youre everything. Truly and fully. You're the sunlight that kisses his skin, the stars he wishes to touch, to know, he yearns for you. Years to know you in your entirety, till he knows nothing else but you. For your name to only fully know his lips, for only he will fully know you. He sees no other, he knows no other. He wants- no needs, to give himself as he is. 

You see him, see him as more than just Jude Belingham. You see what others can not, will not. You see him, you know him. You know him better than he knows himself most days. You've seen all there is to see, all that makes him who he is. You know his stupid sandwich order at the place you hate but keep going to because you know how much he loves it.

You sit in freezing weather for the full game just to make sure you don't miss a second of him. The first to congratulate him, the first to mourn with him, the first to sooth his aches and pains. You're the face he looks for in a crowd, you're the first person he calls when anything happens. 

 And you love him with such ferocity it amazes him. 

You're full crying at this point, fat tears rolling down your cheeks till you can barely see him, and he finally gets down on one knee, fishing out a small velvet box from his inner pocket, opening it with shaky hands.

And he whispers, “will you marry me?”

You fall next to him, sobbing into his shoulder while you repeat yes over and over. He cries with you, till you're both laughing from pure joy. 

Who better to spend the rest of your life with then the man who loves you so?

Telling his family is the best part. You have them over for what was supposed to be a quick lunch, turned dinner, and you break the news at dessert, showing off your ring while they all gasp. 

They pile you into the biggest hug, smiles so wide they hurt and you laugh, you're going to get married! You think they just might be more excited than you are.

Wedding planning comes and goes both so fast and so slow. Youre so excited you can't wait, and yet every step of the way seems like it takes excruciatingly long.

Your wedding planner tries her best, bless her soul, but you want it to be completely and utterly perfect. Down to the types of chairs at the venue.

Jude lets you have your way for the most part, chiming in now and again, he trusts you fully. Knowing you're going to make it the best regardless. 

Leading up to the big day you think you just might pass out from stress and never be seen again, but the almost year of planning pays off, and you're married! 

The honeymoon is spent traveling all over while jude is wide-eyed, unable to believe he's married to you of all people. 

The press catches on soon after, even if your wedding was small and intimate. News comes out one way or another.

Jude only responds with a picture of you two slow dancing among your family and friends, captioned, “all you need to know.” and he pins it to every social media page. 

What a man huh?

[chibelial]

.

[jpegcompressor]

"i'm normal" i say, as if the only thing that brings me true happiness in my life ISN'T (non-whitewashed) drawings of a fictional character that is the equivalent of a snickerdoodle

[entitled-fangirl]

Luck. (P3)

Cregan Stark x reader; Robb Stark x reader

Summary: the reader finds herself enjoying the past with Cregan more and more.

There is light smut in this one. You have been warned.

Part 1, 2

Masterlist

.............................................

Only two days later did it happen again. 

She and Robb were in the crypt visiting Robb's ancestors for the first time since their marriage.

The torch lit up the dark cavern and only the sound of their footsteps and water dripping could be heard. 

Her head moved on a swivel, going to each statue that was placed in the crypt. 

"And that's my grandsire, Rickard," Robb said as he pointed to the statue. "Oh, and this one," he said as his eyes moved to another one, "my father's sister, Lyanna."

She stared at the statue of Lyanna. She remembered her father, King Robert, who had spoken about Lyanna. 

His only love.

"She's beautiful," she said quietly. 

"Aye," Robb smiled. "The statue hardly does it justice to be honest with you."

She nodded, letting her feet begin to walk further into the crypt. Her eyes landed on a statue of a man, burly and broad. "Who is this, Robb?"

"Brandon. My uncle," Robb said with a downturned lip.

Her brows furrowed as she studied the face of him under the torch light, "He seems like he's never known a smile."

Robb couldn't help the light laugh that left him, "I don't think he did to be honest, my love." He let out a light sigh, "my mother was suppose to marry him."

Her eyebrows shot up and she turned to him, "What?"

"He died at the hands of the Mad King, along with my grandsire. They were trying to protect Lyanna."

Her eyes softened, "I am sorry. That cannot be easy to live with."

He shrugged lightly, "It is the past. So be it."

"That does not make it lighter of a burden."

"No," he said as he chewed the inside of his cheek. "No, I suppose it doesn't."

He held out his arm to her, and the two continued their walk. 

As Robb pointed out various people, the were walking closer and closer to the eldest of the Starks. 

"Rodwell. Barthogen. That one is Jonnel. All brothers and Lords of Winterfell." His eyes roamed the statues he'd seen a million times before. "Raya. Mariah." 

It was a lot to take in for her. At least 300 years of history sat in these caves.

"Benjin, Brandon, Cregan, Eric…"

Cregan. 

Her head seemed to perk up at that. "I'm sorry. Which ones?"

Robb grinned, pointing them out again. "Benjin, Brandon, Cregan, and that one is Eric." 

Even from far away and by mere torchlight, she'd know the form of that statue from anywhere.

"My lord!" A voice called down the dark crypt.

Robb sighed, "Forgive me, love. I'll deal with this. Here." He handed the torch to her, "I'll return quickly. Do enjoy your time here."

She took the torch, feeling his lips brush a gentle kiss to her forehead before he walked away. 

Her eyes were glued to Cregan's statue. 

She forced her feet to take careful steps to the stone carving. 

It was a decent resemblance, she knew that. It seemed that his statue guaranteed him a longer life than she had seen, noting the changes in the face of it that could've only been made through time. 

He lived to be much older. 

He was no boy when she had seen him, no. But this in front of her? Was a man who had seen it all.

She looked back down the direction Robb had left before a soft sigh left her. 

She reached up, gently brushing the cheek of the statue, ignoring the dust that collected on her fingers. 

"You're not as handsome in stone," she mused in a whisper. 

When it seemed Robb wouldn't be back for a while longer, she lowered herself to the feet of Cregan's memorial to sit. 

She turned herself away from it, moving to lean back on the feet of his statue. She closed her eyes as tried to relax as she leaned back.

She let out a grunt as her back met the cold stone floor.

Her eyes shot open.

The crypt was a lot darker. 

She pushed herself up, looking around in confusion. 

Cregan's statue wasn't there. 

Most of the statues weren't there. 

Every newer statue Robb had shown her only minutes ago was nowhere in sight. 

She stood with the torch, cursing lightly. 

Of course, it had to happen again.

…

After a while of losing her way in the dark, she managed her way back out of the crypts.

In the middle of a heavy snow. Winterfell wasn't far if she hurried. 

The snow was thick and she was hardly near wearing the right boots for it. 

In her time, it hadn't snowed in almost two weeks. But here? It seemed to be the first snow of the winter. 

She pulled her thin cloak around her and placed the hood over her head. 

It was going to be a long trek.

…

Nearing the doors of Winterfell, one of the guard's eyes widened, "My lady!"

He ran to her, "Are you hurt, my lady?"

She was shivering. She moved to speak, but her jaw chattered too harshly, so she shook her head. 

He nodded, "C'mon. I'll get you to Lord Stark myself."

The man shrugged off his cloak, throwing the heavy furs over the girl. 

They made it into the castle walls in no time, and a message was sent to Cregan. 

The guard forced her to the nearest fireplace, barking at servants to arrange for hot cloths. 

She stood shivering by the fire when Cregan entered. 

He stormed in, throwing the door open loudly. When his eyes met hers, they held a concern look to them. He quickly moved to her and took her face in his hands with a firm grip, "What were you thinking?"

"I was… I…" She tried to speak. 

"Gods, you're freezing! C'mere."

He held her to his chest, the warmth radiating off of him as it always did.

"Why were you out there?"

"I… I'm sorry…"

He sighed, "You're here now. I suppose that's all that matters."

…

"Where are you?" She asked with a giggle.

Her feet moved quickly, nearing the wardrobe she was sure younger Brandon was hiding in. 

She pretended to look around for him, and she smiled when she heard his giggle come from the wardrobe.

She ripped open the doors, laughing when she heard his playful scream. 

He made a run for it, moving down the hall at a fast rate. 

She ran behind him, determined to catch the boy and win the game. 

She rounded a corner, seeing him gone. 

She looked around as a small crease came to her brow. 

Perhaps he was too good. 

Or maybe she had returned. 

Brandon came from behind her, tackling her down. She grunted from the force, catching herself with her hands with a laugh. 

She twisted her body around to grab him in her arms and pin him down. 

"I win!" She panted. 

"Hardly." He teased. 

She scoffed and let him go, now sitting up. "I had you pinned."

"Yeah, but you were losing before."

She chuckled, "I don't believe that's how the game works."

He grinned, pushing her down again and trying to tickle her now.

She let out a shriek as he did so, but it was quickly gone when someone picked the boy up off the ground.

"Attacking my lady of Winterfell?" Cregan teased. "That's treason, boy."

Brandon wriggled in his brother's arms, "She started it!"

"Does not matter. I side with the lady." Cregan smirk grew, "Perhaps I should teach you a lesson."

"No! NO, Cregan! No, don't!" He giggled. 

Cregan turned to Y/n, "What do you think, my love? Shall the boy be punished?"

She sat up on the cold floor, "Do be merciful today, my lord. He's just a boy."

He grinned, "My lady has spoken." He set Brandon down and ruffled his hair, "But I'd best not see you attacking her again."

Brandon grinned with mischief, "Yes, my lord."

Cregan playfully pushed his head away, "Go on, Brandon."

The two watched him run off before Cregan's hand moved to help her up. "You two have much more energy than you should."

She smiled and brushed off her dress, "You say it as if it's bad."

He pulled her to him, "Only when I hear your shriek across the castle and I fear for you."

She scoffed, "It was not that loud."

He chuckled, "I assure you it was."

She flushed, "Apologies, Cregan."

He shook his head, "None of the sort. It's quite nice to hear your laughter throughout the halls."

She looked up into his eyes, studying them, "I'm glad."

He grabbed her chin, holding her in place, "You know, I've been missing you, as of late."

"Have you?"

"Aye. Quite fiercely."

Her eyes turned playful, "Well, I'm right here."

His darkened, "That you are."

He picked her up bridle-style with ease. She shrieked at the sudden movement and held onto his shoulders. 

"Scared I'll drop you, pretty?"

Her wide eyes met his. 

He grinned, "I've not dropped you before. I'd be a fool to now."

He began to walk down the halls of Winterfell, nearing their chambers. He threw open the door and playfully threw her onto the bed. 

He shut the door and locked it before moving next to her on the bed. "How long before they'll require our attention?"

"Who, my love?"

"The North."

She grinned, "A few minutes, I'm sure."

He gained a predatory look, "I can use a few minutes wisely."

She turned her head towards him, "You haven't yet."

He grinned, pulling himself over her and kissing her deeply.

She let out a groan at his suddenness and kissed back fervently. 

He pulled off his clothing piece by piece without breaking their connection. 

She thanked herself for choosing a dress with ties at the front today, for now Cregan was eagerly yanking at them, pulling them out from the corset. 

He began to kiss down her neck, grinning when he hit a spot that made her moan.

"Can I have you, my love?" He asked against her skin. 

She sighed and closed her eyes, "Please."

He growled, capturing her lips again as he pulled her small clothes off, moving from her only to get it over her head then continuing as before. 

His fingers moved under them, tracing her thighs teasingly.

"C'mon, Cregan."

He smiled against her lips, "Yes, my lady."

He moved two fingers into her, watching the groan leave her lips. 

She could hardly think of Robb at this point. 

She let out shaky breaths as his fingers pumped in and out of her. 

"Ugh… Cregan…"

He grinned, "I know. I know."

He kissed her again, curling his fingers into her, catching her groan with his mouth. 

A knock sounded at the door, "My lord?"

Cregan's jaw clenched as he pulled himself up, not withdrawing his fingers, "What?"

"You're needed at the petition, my lord."

He grinned, curling his fingers again, watching her try to hold in a moan. 

"I'll be there momentarily."

He pulled his fingers out as he pulls himself away from her with a dissatisfied groan. 

He grabs his tunic, pulling it over his head as he looks over to her. 

She's staring up at the ceiling in thought. 

He smiles, kissing her cheek. "Join me?"

That's strange.

Robb never asked her to join for petitions. He always said there was "No reason to worry a lady with trivial things."

"You don't have to, of course."

She shook her head, "No, I… I would like that."

He nodded, his teasing smile returning, "Get dressed then, pretty. We've got the North waiting on us."

She sat up and kissed him, "Can't keep them waiting then."

Hopefully, the North was not waiting for her return to Robb.

Who knows when that will happen again?

.......................................................

Taglist: @rlblackbarbie, @rebeccawinters, @happinessinthebeing, @abaker74, @helo1281917, @idonotknowenglish, @zizouu23, @aelora-a, @twinkletwinklenotastar

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "Charlie, babe? Can you come over here for a sec? I need help proving a point."

Charlie: "Okay!"

Charlie: (ZOOMS over)

Charlie: "I'm here." (cradling vaggie's hand tenderly) (beaming) "How can I help...?"

Vaggie: "You just did."

Angel Dust: "Fuckin' show off."

Vaggie: (at angel dust) (Smug) "Your turn."

Charlie: "? Are we playing a game??"

Vaggie: "No but it's still gonna be fun."

Angel Dust: "Shush. I'm tryin' focus here! Ah-HEM."

Angel Dust: "Ohhhhh Husky man~ Would ya come over here an' help me with somethin', mr. whiskers-"

Husk: "No."

Angel Dust: "Pweeease~?"

Husk: "Fuck off."

Vaggie: "And there we have it."

Angel Dust: "Bullshit! You're NOT more attractive than me, toots! Not even personality wise!"

Charlie: "Was that the point we're proving?"

Angel Dust: "NOTHIN'S PROVEN!"

Charlie: "Did it even need proving??? I mean, look at her."

Angel Dust: "I'm lookin'. It's a lesbian only her lover could love."

Charlie: "I DO really love her~"

Vaggie: "And I try hard every day- Angel shut up- to be a little bit worthy of that love. Case in point."

Charlie: "Wait, go back to the point about not feeling worth-"

Vaggie: "Old news babe. Hey Husk! C'mere for a moment!"

Charlie: "-she's dodging the question!"

Angel Dust: "She's bein' an annoying bitch of a friend."

Husk: (slouching over) "The fuck do you want."

Angel Dust: "Shut. UP."

Vaggie: "Nothing much. Didn't want you to miss out on Angel Dust pouting that's all."

Husk: "Yeah?"

Charlie: "Awww Vaggie, that's really thoughtful!"

Vaggie: "Just doing my lesbian duty."

Charlie: "Angel Dust is a guy though?"

Vaggie: "A gay guy. It's solidarity."

Angel Dust: "I hate you."

Husk: "Huh. Fake hating people looks good on you, looser." (smirk) "Cute pout."

Husk: (wanders off)

Angle Dust: "......."

Angel Dust: (grabbing vaggie and lifting her to eye level) "I love ya we're besties for life and if ya do this t' my heart again 'm shanking ya in the middle of the night with a shiv made from a sharpened yuri manga."

Vaggie: "And I've never wanted you more. As a friend."

Charlie: "Okay good great wonderful friendship moment everyone. Now!"

Charlie: (holding out arms)

Charlie: "I want MY girlfriend back." (pouting) "Please."

Angel Dust: "May the sapphic be with ya."

Angel Dust: (dumps vaggie in her arms)

Angel Dust: "Ohhhhh Husk....! Guess who's POUTIN' agai- Whiskers stop runnin' an' look at me!!!"

Husk: "Once was fucking enough."

Angel Dust: "Once is NEVER enough fucking with me~"

Charlie: "Wow. Husk sure can move when he wants to..."

Vaggie: "Meh, he's not even using his wings."

Charlie: "He's really not is he? Aww!"

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "...Vaggie. Is my pout cute too?"

Vaggie: "The cutest, sweetie." (smooches pout) "And most bi-utiful."

Charlie: "HEHEH."

Niffty: (from above) "I bet she'd pout even HARDER if I dropped this DEAD RAT in her hair."

Charlie: "A WHAT!?"

Niffty: "Dead rat."

Vaggie: "Don't you dare-"

Niffty: "Whee! Here we go!"

Chaggie: (running and screaming)

Angel Dust: (distantly) (shrieking) "HUSK RAT HUSK HUSK HELP RAT DEAD RAT HELP HUSK HUUUUUSK!!!!"

Husk: "-oh shit hold still DON'T FLING IT AT ME ASSHOLE-"

-EXLPOSION-

Cherri Bomb: "wHY IS THERE A RAT CORPSE IN MY BRA!?"

Niffty: "Your welcome!"

Cherri Bomb: "How! HOW IS tHERE A RAT CORPSE! IN MY BRA!!!!"

Charlie: "Cherri run just run-!"

Cherri Bomb: "Already one dead rat boob surprise too late for that!"

Niffty: "Happy pride month everyone!"

Niffty: (GIGGLING)

Niffty: "I bleached and dyed each rat corpse a different rainbow color~"

Alastor: "...Hmm?"

Alastor: (oozing out of shadows)

Alastor: "And no rat for me, my dear? No pride for poor old Alastor?"

Niffty: "For youuu? Iridescent cockroach!"

Niffty: (impales one on his antlers)

Alastor: "Oh I AM touched! ...Might I ask why the change in vermin, however?"

Niffty: "Irony!!" (CACKLES)

Alastor: (confused) (still touched) "Ah."

[suuuupernovaaa]

nìfnu

nìfnu [nɪ.ˈfnu] adv. silently

Anonymous Request: Can I have a story where it’s Ao’nung x Metkayina Reader who’s deaf and a sweetheart. When the Sullys arrive she doesn’t really interact with them so when they see Ao’nung being kind and protective towards her it they feel confused? Just pure fluff.

Lo'ak leans over and nudges his older sister, Kiri, forcefully on the arm.

"Ouch!" she yelps. "What, Lo'ak?"

He points, and she follows the line from his finger. It leads her eyes to Ao'nung, just a few paces down the beach from them, and he's with a Metkayina girl that Kiri doesn't recognize. She's tall, nearly as tall as Ao'nung, with her long hair pulled back into one large, thick braid. She wears a thin, shiny net over her shoulders, and Kiri notes how pretty it is. It glimmers in the sun. Kiri also notes how, even though Ao'nung and this girl are above walker, they are using the hand-speak to communicate.

"That girl. Neteyam tried to talk to her earlier, but she ignored him. And there she is, being so nice to Ao'nung. Who's an asshole."

Kiri elbows her sibling. "To you, he is. He looks like he's being perfectly friendly to that girl. And, I mean, she's very pretty."

"Why are they using the hand speak? They're not in the water."

Kiri shrugs. "How should I know? Stop elbowing me when you want something, Lo'ak. It hurts."

He groans and rolls his eyes, and turns his attention back to Ao'nung and the girl who rejected Neteyam.

--

"How are they adjusting?" I sign to Ao'nung, who shrugs and rolls his eyes. It's no secret that he resents having to teach the newcomers their ways, but I think it's nice. Ao'nung needs to humble himself sometimes, be more like his kind little sister.

"They are slow," Ao'nung signs in return. "I don't want to teach them. It's a waste of my time."

I reach out, pushing on his arm a little. "They seem sweet to me, especially the little one. Try to have patience with them. I would offer to help, but they don't know how to talk to me."

"Yet," he replies, and I smile.

"Yet."

--

Neteyam asks Tsireya about the girl, Y/N, the next day. He's noticed that she only uses hand-speak as well, and wonders.

"She can't hear," Tsireya says. "She's only spoken that way her whole life."

Neteyam could smack himself. He'd taken her silence as harsh rejection, when really, she just wasn't able to respond to him.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "She's, uh, really beautiful."

Tsireya laughs and smiles. "She is, but I wouldn't trouble yourself. Ao'nung has been in love with her for years." She throws a glance to her brother over her shoulder, but he's too busy making fun of Lo'ak to hear.

"Ao'nung?" Neteyam replies hardly, and Tsireya laughs even harder.

"I know. He has a soft spot for her, and her for him. If you want to compete, you'll have to learn hand-speak."

Neteyam shakes his head. She's beautiful, but not worth getting in a fight with the chief's son over. He'll just have to admire her from afar.

--

Though I can't speak, I am very proficient in reading lips. This helps me observe conversations from far away; as long as I have a clear view of someone's face, I can usually figure out what they're saying.

"Ao'nung has been in love with her for years."

That's what Tsireya said, and though she was smiling, it didn't seem as if she was joking. I dropped the plate of fruit I was carrying when she said it.

Is it true? Has Ao'nung been in love with me, and I haven't noticed?

Fruit is scattered all around my feet, and I bend over to begin gathering it again, every interaction I've had with Ao'nung recently playing over in my mind. If Tsireya is right, maybe I have been blind.

Ao'nung has always been kind, and patient and gentle with me. I knew he wasn't like that with many people, but I thought it was most likely out of pity for my condition - not out of love of affection.

A hand reaches out, picking up fruit and dropping it into my basket, and I look up to see Ao'nung himself.

Feeling flustered, I stand up, kicking the fruit basket once again, undoing all my work.

"Are you okay?" Ao'nung signs. I tuck my hair behind my ears, feeling a little speechless. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Tsireya," I sign, "she told the new boy, the oldest one, that you are in love with me. Is she just teasing him, because he thinks I'm pretty?"

"He said he thinks you're pretty?" Ao'nung signs back, quickly and furiously, glancing over his shoulder at where his sister still sits with the newcomers.

I shove his shoulder. "Yes! Answer my question."

"Well... come with me." Ao'nung reaches out, grabbing my hand and therefore silencing me, and pulls me away from the beach. We move through many huts, past the fires, and to the edge of the beach, where the sparse forest and rocks begin. Here, we are alone.

"Ao'nung!" I exclaim, breathless. "What's going on?"

He rubs his forehead. "I had a plan, to tell you. It wasn't going to be like this. I'm going to kill Tsireya."

I stand, silent, waiting for him to finish. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my palms are shaking; I'm not sure I could speak, even if I wanted to.

"For a long time, I have loved you, Y/N. I have tried to be more... understanding, and gentle, the way you deserve. But it's hard for me. I wanted to be better, before I told you. Before I asked you to be my mate."

Unable to control myself, I gasp, and bring my hands up to my mouth.

Me, the mate to the next Olo'eyktan? It's unimaginable.

"Your parents approve the match?" I ask.

Ao'nung smiles at me softly. "Of course. When I told them how much I love you, they couldn't object. They believe you will make a wonderful Tsahik, because you are so kind and understanding. My mother will teach you everything you need to know - if you want."

That thought alone is a little overwhelming, since Ronal can be so intimidating, but I also imagine she can be a good teacher.

And really, that doesn't matter. What matters is the way I feel when I'm with Ao'nung; special, adored, loved, doted upon. I feel safe with Ao'nung. I feel seen and most importantly, heard.

"I would be proud to be your mate, Ao'nung. So proud. Of course, I love you."

The smile that spreads across his face transforms Ao'nung from the sullen, anxious, grouchy man most have come to know him as. It turns him into the carefree, light and happy man he is when the two of us are together.

I am proud to make him smile like that. I promise myself then, to make him smile like that every day, for the rest of our lives.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 10)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: I keep forgetting I exist. Sorry this is short oopsies

WORD COUNT: 982 words

series masterlist

You hardly see him for weeks. Any new wife would expect her husband to impress his needs upon her frequently after the wedding night in hopes of creating an heir but you almost knew he wouldn’t. There’s something so strange about Cregan Stark; he’s empathetic. It’s not a trait you knew any man could hold. In reality, you should be pleased that your husband doesn’t wish to rape you but you’re more frustrated. He shall want for a son eventually, won’t he? This is only delaying the inevitable and you are a ‘get it over with’ kind of woman.

You arrive at his chambers with little more than a knock on the door. “Do you not wish for an heir, Lord Stark?”

“Good morning.” He murmurs, looking up from the papers on his desk.

“An heir? Is it your wish or not?” You say, disregarding his greeting.

He sighs, already stressed from reading over land disputes and not wishing to be stressed over his petulant wife. “Of course I want for a son.”

“You haven’t visited my chambers in weeks.”

“I did not think you wanted me to.” He looks at you, confused and a bit sorrowful.

“There is only one way to make a child.”

Gods he thinks you look so like a child when you stand there with such false assurance. It makes him feel wretched.

“You weeped the last time I took you to bed. I have been trying to give you time so that you might… recover?” The words don’t feel right to him. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“Lying with you caused me no feelings of importance.”

Cregan counts to ten in his head but only makes it to five. He then stands abruptly.

“You will watch your tone when you speak to me!” He says, fed up with your lack of decorum.

You gape at him like a fish. He went from so pitiful to angry so quickly.

“I have done all I can to make you comfortable, all I can to make you feel welcomed and at every turn, you insult me! You have spent your entire life as the spoilt daughter of the Queen and for that, I do not blame you but I can only be so lenient. You will no longer take liberties with how you speak to me. I am your husband and you will learn to treat me as such.” He breathes heavily after letting all his emotions go. “Even princesses don’t speak to their spouses in the way you speak to me.”

“I’m not your wife by choice. I didn’t want this.” You protest in justification of your own cruelty.

He scoffs. “And do you think I did?”

“You asked for my hand.”

“Her Grace offered me your hand.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“Is that truly what you think? Are you really so naive as to believe that? Everyone of our station marries for advantage. I am no different and neither are you.” Even when he shouted at you only moments ago, he never sounded as hateful as he does right now.

“And you’re happy with this standard?” You ask with level headed contemplation.

“Of course I’m not but it’s what is done.”

“It isn’t fair for you to fault me for wanting something more when you’re also unhappy with it… especially when you know it’s more difficult for women than men.” You desperately want him to understand you. You just want somebody to understand.

“We all make sacrifices for the people we love.” He says dutifully.

“I make the sacrifices while my brothers marry for love. How is that fair?”

“So you’re bitter? Prince Jacaerys will be king one day. That’s a much greater sacrifice than marrying for advantage.”

The tears prickle in your eyes. You should’ve known.

“At least he won’t be alone.”

You don’t want to argue anymore, or rather be scolded like a dumb child so you leave, striding back to your room.

You stare into the mirror when you arrive. Would your mother be disappointed by how disagreeable you are, how disobedient? Daemon wouldn’t. But you aren’t Daemon Targaryen. You’re just a girl, a girl that might ruin an alliance if you can’t make nice with your husband. Should you care? Your stepfather wouldn’t. Dragon riders don’t obey societal norms… but you do care… ever so slightly.

~~~

A voice at the door. Does he want to be let in only so he can say a hundred words that mean so little?

“Enter.”

Your husband, tall and strong walks into the room, reminding you of someone you used to know. He’s kind and brave like him.

“I should not have shouted at you. I just feel as though I’m not heard when I’m quiet but that is no justification.” He stares at the back of your head. You don’t turn to face him, looking out the window instead of at the mirror. This is your home now. He will become your home - he could become your home.

“If I walked out the door right now and never came back, would you try and stop me?” You aren’t angry about his shouting; you’re used to fire.

“No.”

“It would destroy the alliance. You could side with the Hightowers or simply just watch as they take my mother’s throne.”

“You could walk out that door, get on your dragon and never come back and I would keep my oath to the Queen.”

Gods he really is decent.

“Where would you go?” He asks like you haven’t just said you might run out on your marriage.

“Old Valyria.”

“You would die.”

“I would.”

“I’m not sorry for making things difficult for you but I acknowledge that I have.”

He smiles a bit woefully. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, princess.”

“Any woman in Westeros would consider herself lucky to be your wife.”

“Hmm… almost any it seems.”

Comment to be added to taglist

[reareaotaku]

Enemies 2 Friends to Something More

Summary: When a girl in his class corrects him, Ford decides that he will go through any lengths to one her up like she seems to do so often to him. Tw: Slight NSFW [Would anyone even read NSFW work of him?]

Linktree 4 the People of Palestine

Ford had never been corrected before, because he's never been wrong. So, when he was sitting in class one day and had gone to answer a question, only for a h/c haired girl to correct him. Ford wasn't necessarily mad, more so confused, because he thought he was right. Though, when he went back and checked his numbers, he realized the girl was right. That was fine. Sometimes people were wrong and he's at college to learn, so maybe it's good that there's someone with the same level as intelligence as him.

But then... It happened again. It was a little more embarrassing for it to happen again, but he tried not to think to much about it. That was UNTIL it happened for a third time. That time he was annoyed.

He looked back at you as you smirked down at him. You took joy in his embarrassment, that's what he believed, and it bugged him to his very core. He had to get you back. He wasn't sure how, but he would.

---

Ford stayed up late last night, having finally crafted the perfect question that he knew would stump you. Instead of bringing it up in class, he wanted to talk to you personally, because the question was made for you, no one else.

So, after class, Ford made sure to call you back, having learned your name from his roommate, Fiddleford.

"Y/n!"

You looked back at the sound of your name to; Only to be surprised when seeing it was Stanford Pines.

"Stanford?"

"Call me Ford."

You sigh, looking him up and down. "Okay, F-o-r-d," You stretch out the letters of his name. "What is it you want?"

"Can I not talk to a fellow classmate?"

"Oh, Ford, don't be silly. I know you want something. I see how angry you get when you get something wrong. You clearly want something from me."

He holds his ands up in surrender. "You caught me. I actually... wanted to discuss a-" He tsks. "theory- Question if you will. If you're willing to occupy my company."

"I do like intelligent conversation and you're the most intelligent guy here, so I guess I can give you some time."

He smirks, happy that the trap had been set.

---

He pulls out multiple papers, putting them on the table, before looking up at you. You looked at him confused why he would have so many papers.

He goes on and on about the theory of life and what the purpose of all living things are. While you were confused on the topic, since he wasn't asking for your opinion, you were amazed by his passion on the topic. It seemed he wanted to prove something to you- Prove that he was a genius.

It wasn't like you didn't know that. Everyone that knew Ford or interacted with him knew he was genius, so you were confused why he felt the need to prove it to you.

You thought he was kind of cute. Going on and on. You kind of wanted to fuck him. Your face turned a light pink when the thought entered your mind.

"What do you think?"

"What?" You were caught off guard, since your mind was occupied.

"About life."

"I- uh, never really think about that stuff?"

"You have no opinions about it?"

"Uh, I mean, you've said every thought that I have." You lean in, a stupid smile overtaking your face.

"Yeah?" Ford's face turned a light pink when having your face close to his. He could almost kiss you... Almost... He wanted to- I mean, he admired how intelligent you were, and he felt you were one of the only people he could have a real conversation with without dumbing himself down. He would have kissed you if a book wasn't slammed down at the end of the table, causing Ford to glare at the person, Fiddleford.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

You sit back in your seat and smile, "No. Uh, no. I was going to go anyway. I'm sure my roommate is waiting for me." You turn to Ford, "I'll see you... later?"

"Yeah. I'll see you."

---

Ford stared at his ceiling, his alarm clock the only light in the room. He couldn't keep his mind off of you. He wished he had kissed you or something. It would have been the perfect moment. So, why didn't he?

He could feel his body heat up as his thoughts got more intense. He pulled one of his pillows out from under him, before slamming it against his face, hoping to rid himself of the thoughts. God, how was he supposed to see you again knowing what he felt?