#I do not need affirmations. advice. or to be consoled. i just needed this out of my head^^;

[slumbergoblin]

hey

[alexlikesairconditioninh]

i was never a writter, but the lack of geo content is killing me so here we go

Before you read; i tried to make this as versatile as possible, make it fit for different types of readers and wether or not it follows cannon storyline! The only thing about this is that you and crowe have no romantic interest in eachother and are just friends. (If crowe and geo were pinning for the same person that would be messy and too complicated for me to think of)

NOT PROOFREAD

geo x reader hc:

• its known that geo is rich, and from deryl's account, has bodyguards armed with katanas. while its unclear how often he is accompanied by these bodyguards. He wouldn't heasiitate to have them accompany you too, especially after the movie theater / arcade incident (depending on the route you choose) or if anything similar happened. Especially when he isnt around.

• if you are a shy / quiet person, he will be by your side, not saying much, but the fact that he is willingly spending his free time with you, shows how much he cares about you.

- he will push you out of your shell, he wants the best for you what holds people being too scared to take action. Your shyness could hold you back and he doesn't want you to be hurt by it. When your too scared to speak out he will nudge you to do so, giving you confidence and reassurance, of course he usually ends up speaking up for you anyways. He wont allow others to disrespect you.

• if you are more loud and rambunctious he would pretend to be annoyed with you, but you are close enough to know he genuinely cares about you.

- even though he dislikes rowdy places, he will endure your shenanigans. somtimes you get too out of hand, and this is when he brings you back to earth.

• surprisingly, hes a tad bit better at showing affection through words, he seems— unsure about physical contact. He has daddy issues and his relationship with his mom and hyugo are unclear, but i have a hunch that hes touch starved and never really received affection through touch (or at all).

• he isn't the best at showing affection overall, however it feels as though he does it through acts of service best. If you have an issue, he would try and fix it or help it for you— he can, and will get physical.

• while he is stubborn, and finds it hard to vocalize his admiration for you, he is decent with words of affirmation, of course at the start before you get closer hes silent. He doesn't say lovey dovey things directly, its more in how he speaks. Once he warms up to you, he will speak to and about you with love. He also teases you, just like he does with deryl, your reactions, and laughter mean the world to him. he cares about you— and the rest of his friends.

• I think quality time is a another strong means of affection for him. He’s very busy (at least— I think). He will decline going to the hallows ball even if his friends are going because he has "better things to do". His time is valuable, he will put time aside just to be with you because he loves you, you give him energy and refuel his mental state when he needs energy. Wether it be a date, cuddling, listening to music together (Japanese opera and whatever you like), looking at potted plants, or just being next to eachother, its the highlight of his day.

• speaking of cuddling, he enjoys it, while hes stiff and unsure at first, he will warm up to it. He finds comfort in having you in his arms and making sure your safe. (And later, will enjoy being in your arms). While "i love you" is too hard for him to utter, holding you close to him as a reminder of his love and protection is what he does.

• hes horrible, horrifically terrible at comforting. He wasn't comforted as a child (at least thats what i think...). So its no surprise he doesn't know how to console you, he feels awful seeing you in a depressed state. He would likely seek out one of his friends for advice on comforting you. However, times like these is when he finds it easier to voice his love for you. Even if it isnt really that comforting— "why are you so sad / crying? Was it ____— do you want me to beat their asses?"

🔖 : i was going to add another section about sol and how geo would deal with that, but i just got too impatient and just had to post it!!! So ill write that later ヽ(≧∀≦)ﾉ

[oxygenbefore1775]

AoT Warriors' Comforting Methods

cuz lord knows i need my comfort characters to comfort me (here's some sunflowers cuz they're happy flowers)

Annie

as a person who very much values her personal space Annie would never try and force her comfort on you, only if you would ask her

doesn't cross your boundaries and doesn't get too imaginative with her consolation — she would only do things that she knows for sure would relieve your stress

Annie prefers actions over words so expect her to bring you your favourite food/drink or take you to your favourite place in the city to un-wind there

doesn't say too much and prefers that you talk at her rather than to her about the reasons for your distress

and if she talks, it'd be short snippets of encouragement, urging you to continue

giving a piece of advice is a big no-no for Annie — she doesn't want to restrict you with her opinions

Bertholdt

don't seek comfort from Bert — he wouldn't understand what you want from him exactly

Bert cherishes you and if you are stressed out, he would try to solve the problem that puts so much pressure on you (even though you didn't ask him)

as your friend, it is his job to support you so he would try and show his dedication to you via problem-solving — but in the slightly off-putting way

so he would arrange a whole case-study for you — presenting you with the worst case scenario to your problem and assure you that there's nothing to be worried about and if there is, Bert would be there to help you

Bert is trying to comfort you but to him problem-solving is the way to comfort you

he's not very eloquent with words so the most comforting phrase you would hear from him would be "it's gonna be alright"

Colt

an absolute joy to be around whenever you feel down

there's no need to confide in him — Colt is able to pick up on your distress right away

would make it his mission to make you feel as comforted as possible by using words of affirmation

but his eagerness to put you at ease may end up a bit agressive — Colt would shower you with kind words of how talented, brilliant, amazing (etc.) you are without giving your ears a break

with that praises you would immediately feel better and gain confidence and energy to go through your day

Pieck

if anything, Pieck's comforting methods combine words of affirmation, a piece of advice and un-winding together

Pieck's first call would be to distract you from your worry by offering to do some other activity so that you are cheered up

after that, she would try to comfort you with her words in an attempt to put you at ease

on this day Pieck would like you to feel as happy as possible

but her comfort is a double-edged sword because after that pampering session she would want you to gather your strength for the last push

Pieck is not that comforting, she's more of an inspiring type

Porco

turns into a total chatter-box/gossiper when he's comforting you and lends a sympathetic ear to you

a cafe would be a perfect spot for your comforting session since you can also indulge yourselves with sweets there

Porco wants you to spill all the tea about your day and things that've upset you — with all of the juicy details

Porco is your personal (slightly toxic) cheerleader, swallowing your every word and praising you for even the slightest display of self confidence

"Yes, you tell them!" Porco would yell out occasionally while listening to you, "They don't deserve you. You're the most brilliant person alive and you must know that!"

there's not much of advice to his words but at the end of the day you would feel like the most valuable human being that has ever walked this Earth

Reiner

being a huge cuddle bug that he is, Reiner is all about the touch

even he is not too skilled with words, a warm embrace (especially if it's coming from Reiner) is worth infinitely more than words of affirmation

so Reiner would comfort you with his big bear hugs or just by holding your hand — the main thing is, Reiner would make sure that you can feel his body heat radiating on your skin

you two may indulge yourselves to a movie night — your favourite film set on TV, the couch littered with all sorts of snacks, and you, warm and safe in a cradle of Reiner's arms

no matter what challenge is posed against you, Reiner has infinite amount of faith in you and your inner strength

Zeke

concept of comfort is foreign for Zeke — all throughout his childhood his inner turmoil was ignored by the adults and he learned to deal with his problems by himself

so it comes as a surprise for him once you come up to Zeke seeking his piece of advice and comfort

but Zeke learns to love helping you — the fact that you deemed him qualified enough to ask for his help is extremely flattering to him and his cognitive capabilities

comforting is still not his cup of tea — the timing doesn't come to him naturally and you have to let him know about your distress

Zeke prefers words over actions and while comforting you he would still aim for actually trying to solve your problem instead of offering words of encouragement

[cupidstwin333]

Hi! May I request a romantic matchup for Obey Me and BNHA? 🙏💕

For the description:

•I'm a 21 yo and also an Aquarius.

•I'm Pansexual and use He/She pronouns.

•I'm a INTP-T and my enneagram is 4w5.

•My hobbies are: Vulture Culture, Writing, Poetry, Reading, Video Games, Anime, Crafting, Singing, and Witchcraft (Ik a lot lol).

•I dislike: Pregnancy (Big irrational fear lmao) Having to plan/organize and/or lead a project and people who're too similar to me.

• My passions and long-term dreams are: Cottagecore (y'know, the fantasy of escaping and living in a self-sufficient cottage with your partner surrounded by animals and nature 💀), Psychology and Music (I also play the Ocarina :D)

*My physical appearance is:

•Voluminous, wavy, dark brown rooted with coral-dyed and upper-back length hair. It's usually tied up in a messy, high ponytail.

•Chubby and baby-like face with droopy, semi-small eyes, a small nose, and big lower-lipped lips.

•My body is on the femenine side, light skin-toned and apple-shaped (chubby); it has large stretch marks, scars, lunars and moles everywhere, including my face. I'm also 5'1.

•I tend to avoid shorts (lol thick thighs struggle) and heels. I often (and only) wear monochromatic, simple and comfy clothes (hoodies, leggings, boots, etc.)

*My personality is:

To strangers, I appear as anxious, shy, quiet, humble, gentle, reserved, unnerving (this was said by a close friend) and somewhat serious and mysterious.

Those closer describe me as quiet, mysterious, mischievous, sarcastic, cranky, realistic, procrastinator, funny (cue dark humor and lowkey sadism), flirty, blunt, overprotective (if we are VERY close), untrusting, loyal, prideful, assertive, and temperamental.

I'm also the therapist/older sibiling (only if needed be) friend that dissapears at random times but gives strangely good or shady (and still, good) advice that can listen to you for hours if needed. Not good at consoling or drama tho (I'm no good at words of affirmation and physical touch lol) I do tend to

My love languages are friendly banter/teasing/flirting and being a simp (platonic or romantic)

Large much? Yes 💀 I'm sorry- (Still love your content tho 💖)

After a long time of thinking 💭 your match is…

Mammon

How it started:

One day, in the heart of the Royal Library, Mammon's blue and yellow gradient eyes locked onto you. "Hey, you! What're you doing here, reading all by yourself?" He calls out to you in an attempt to make fun of you.

You glanced up, a mischievous grin forming your lips. "Oh, just educating myself. You should try it sometime."

Mammon scoffed, his pride taking a hit. "Hey, I know stuff! I ain't some dumb demon."

You raised an eyebrow, the playful challenge clear in your gaze. "Really? Because last I heard, you mixed up a potion and turned Beelzebub's snack into a dancing frog."

Mammon spluttered, his cheeks flushing. "Th-that was a one-time thing!"

Your banter became a familiar melody that echoed through the halls of the Devildom. Every encounter was punctuated with teasing remarks and quick comebacks, each exchange sparking an unspoken connection that left Mammon eager for more.

On a sunlit afternoon in the garden, you found yourselves alone. Mammon leaned against a tree, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You know, you're pretty feisty for a bookworm."

You chuckled, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "And you're pretty full of yourself for someone who always falls for Lucifer's tricks."

Mammon's grin widened. "Tch, like you're one to talk! I've seen you struggle with potions enough times."

You crossed your arms, a smirk matching his own. "True, but at least I don't pretend to be the greatest demon in all the realms."

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn to his unpredictability. He was a challenge you couldn't resist.

One evening, beneath a sky painted with hues of orange and purple, you shared a moment by the riverbank. Mammon's voice was softer than usual. "You're different, you know."

You tilted your head, curiosity dancing in your eyes. "Different how?"

He hesitated, a rare vulnerability surfacing. "You're not like the others. You see through my act, and you don't let me get away with it."

Your gaze softened, and your tone held a note of understanding. "Maybe because I see a bit of myself in you."

Mammon raised an eyebrow. "You? The mysterious bookworm?" He retorted with a hint of confusion.

You chuckled, your voice more gentle than usual. "I may be quiet, but that doesn't mean I can't see past the facade. We're both hiding something, aren't we?"

Your eyes met in a shared understanding, a connection that transcended the teasing banter. Mammon took a step closer, his heart racing. "Maybe we can stop hiding, just for a moment."

You smiled, your hand finding his. "Just for a moment."

General headcanons:

💘You share a love for video games, and late-night gaming sessions become a common activity for you both. The banter continues, but it's laced with camaraderie and genuine enjoyment.

💘He secretly treasures the little gifts you craft for him, even if he tries to play it off as no big deal. Your thoughtfulness touches him in ways he doesn't always express.

💘Mammon might struggle with expressing emotions directly, but he shows his affection in his actions. Whether it's protecting you, playfully teasing, or joining in on your hobbies, he's always there, finding his own way to convey his feelings.

💘Music holds a special place in your relationship. You might serenade each other with playful songs or share quiet moments listening to music that resonates with both of you.

And Dabi

How it started:

You, a 21-year-old villain with an air of mystery, possessed a quirk entwined with the mystique of witchcraft. You didn’t choose this path of darkness but with your quirk and your misunderstood personality, it seemed like it was inevitable. Your presence held an allure that drew curious glances from the darkness.

Dabi, a figure draped in cerulean flames and enigma, found his path crossing with yours in an unfortunate twist of fate.

One rainy evening, you found yourself seeking refuge under a shelter, drenched by the downpour and some blood that was seeping through your reopened wounds after an unexpected encounter. Dabi appeared like a phantom from the rain, his voice carrying a hint of concern. "Need some help?" He wouldn’t have shared a second glance if it had been anyone else, but you..? You were different, at this point he had known and heard about you just enough to recognize your archetype among the rain and darkness. You were quite the topic among the villains in this area.

You managed a wry smile, Your damp hair clinging to your cheeks. "Someone managed to catch me off guard tonight." You say almost bittersweet as you remember the fight you went through earlier.

As he offered his coat to shield you from the rain, your fingers brushed against his—a fleeting touch that sent shivers down your spine. It was a moment that hung in the air, but both of you didn’t speak of it.

"Thanks for the save," you said, your gaze locking onto his with a mix of gratitude and curiosity.

He shrugged, a small smile forming his lips. "Guess it's the least I could do." He says while glancing at your wounds. They weren’t big or deep but they seemed to bother him nonetheless.

Still, your conversation flowed effortlessly, as if you were old friends catching up. Time seemed to lose meaning as you shared stories and exchanged laughter, the rain creating a cocoon of intimacy around you.

"Flames and spells," you mused, your eyes holding a spark of playfulness. "Not exactly a common combination."

He chuckled, the sound like a rare melody. "But an intriguing one, don't you think?"

As the rain subsided, he offered his hand. "How about we continue this conversation somewhere drier?"

Your heart raced as you placed your hand in his, feeling a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the rain-soaked evening.

In a cozy and empty cafe, your dialogue evolved into something deeper. Shared interests and whispered secrets created an unspoken connection that felt both familiar and exhilarating.

"You're different from what I expected," he admitted, his gaze steady on yours.

You smiled, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Expectations are overrated, don't you think?"

As the night wore on, your shared laughter filled the air, punctuated by stolen glances that spoke volumes. You were strangers who felt like kindred spirits, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both together.

Underneath the city lights, he walked you home, your footsteps echoing in the silence of the streets. Before parting, he hesitated, a question lingering in his eyes.

"Can I see you again?" he asked, his voice soft but earnest.

Your heart skipped a beat as you nodded. "I'd like that."

General headcanons:

💘You have a favorite hideaway, a forgotten rooftop overlooking the city, where you meet up with Dabi whenever you feel like hiding away and spending time with him.

💘He reveals his real name to you in a moment of vulnerability, a testament to the depth of your trust.

💘You introduce him to the concept of cottagecore, and you share a dream of escaping the chaos to find solace in a self-sufficient cottage.

💘You use your witchcraft to weave protective charms into his clothes, secretly ensuring his safety during fights and battles.

[grahamstoney]

How To Handle Rejection: By Getting Even

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/relationships/handle-rejection-getting-even

How To Handle Rejection: By Getting Even

I know a lot of people are struggling these days with the whole concept of rejection. An invitation to grab a coffee with a cute member of the opposite sex is rudely declined, and you’re left feeling all alone in the world with nobody to console you. An offer to dance is declined because they’re “too tired”; and yet suddenly have a mysterious burst of energy when the next potential suitor comes along straight after. You send an SMS or leave a voicemail, and your so-called “friend” never gets back to you. Some days it’s just one rejection after another.

Rejection stings because it reminds you just how much you hate yourself. Someone else affirms the negative beliefs about yourself that you’ve got stashed away deep down in your unconscious, and suddenly you’re flooded with all the feelings of unworthiness and inadequacy that you’ve been avoiding ever since your earliest childhood experiences when you just weren’t good enough to make the grade.

But hang on a minute… who are they to put you in touch with such repressed inner pain by discarding your generous offer like that? You don’t deserve it. You’ve spent a lifetime avoiding that pain, and you’re certainly not about to go delving into it now. What’s all this “taking responsibility for your own feelings” bullshit anyway?

Fuck that.

So here’s how to really handle rejection; by getting even:

Step 1: Take It Personally

Now you may think that you’ve already mastered this step, but don’t be too quick to gloss over it. Remember, rejection isn’t about them. It’s not about their personal preferences, the mental state of their damaged psyche, their irrational moods, their foolish inability to see how great you are, or the other fifteen things that they had already booked at lunchtime on Friday.

It’s about you.

Rejection is all about you not being good enough. Inadequate and unacceptable the way you are. So suck it down and really take the rejection personally. Developing a truly paranoid state of delusional narcissistic thinking is necessary in order to generate the intense feelings of self-righteous outrage that you’re going to need to motivate you to carry out the remaining steps. They will liberate you from the pain of this particular rejection, so that you can move on to the next one life has to offer.

Step 2: Get Angry

Hurt and sadness have their place; but really, who wants to feel disempowering emotions like those?

Yuck. Talk about a victim mentality. Screw sadness and pain: get angry instead. That jerk who should have known better turned down your kind offer and that’s just plain wrong. So get as angry as you can. Beats the hell out of feeling sad. Anger gets your adrenaline pumping and prepares you to stand up for yourself. Once you’re full of rage at the appalling injustice that has been handed out to you through no fault of your own, you’re ready to really get even.

Step 3: Firebomb Their Letterbox

This juvenile prank isn’t just the providence of junior high-school boys with too much testosterone flooding their adolescent brain for the first time. It’s also a legitimate remedy available to adult you.

If you really want to go hard core on this, you’ll need some copper tubing, a small drill, gunpowder, matches, some explosives fuse, and a bench-mounted vice. I’m not going to go into all the details since I don’t want you to blow your fingers off, but suffice to say that any teenage boy can probably fill you in on them. Just check that the one you ask has all his fingers intact before following their advice.

But to be honest, that’s not really necessary. A bunch of off-the-shelf firecrackers will do the job quite adequately. All you really need to do is turn up when nobody else is around, preferably sometime between when the postman delivers the mail and when the object of your affection turns up to clear the letter box. Light your incendiary device(s) with the matches, offload it/them into said letterbox and make a run for it.

Christmas is the ideal time of year for this, as charred Christmas cards will make a nice keepsake to remind your victim not to be so hasty in rejecting you next time. But you don’t have to wait until Christmas to get this off your chest; a destroyed electricity bill can be equally effective in teaching them a lesson which will be hammered home nicely when the utility company comes along and cuts their power for non-payment of its indecipherable smoking remains.

I recommend you only do this on free-standing letterboxes, and only on days when there isn’t a total fire ban. You don’t want to end up burning a building down and ending up in prison for arson, as that will make the next step much more difficult.

Step 4: Start Stalking

Now we’ve all heard that “No means No!”, and that’s fair enough. But some people have become so jaded that rejection has become their habitual first response to any good thing that comes into their life… like you. In cases like these, don’t take “no” for an answer! If you just keep giving up at the first sign of difficulty, you’ll get nowhere in life. Life rewards persistence.

Some people just don’t know what’s good for them. In order to endow them with your healing presence, you may have to get past an initial “no” long enough to turn it into a “yes”. If they are particularly stubborn about maintaining their flawed belief that their life is better without you in it, then you really have no alternative than to prove them wrong by becoming a stalker.

When they appear to get angry at all the loving attention that you’re lavishing on them, just remind yourself that they’ll be thanking you when they finally learn to accept love from other people into their cold, dark heart. Most particularly from you. Be prepared for the long haul though as it could take quite some time, and several prison sentences on your part, before they come around to see everything that you have to offer.

Becoming a stalker is relatively easy. Obviously the first step is tracking down their home address, but that’s a sinch these days, what with Internet search and all. I’m not going to go into all the details lest my first girlfriend from high school decides she wants her come-uppance, but suffice to say that you’re more than smart enough to work it out. Which is why you’re such an asset to them in the first place, right? That and your great sense of humour, which I’m sure they’ll appreciate when you disable their home security system and turn up unannounced in their bedroom at midnight, just to spend some quality time together.

Step 5: Let It Go

After a few year of educating your victim on the benefits of your company, eventually it will be time to move on. By this time you will have caused them way more pain and annoyance than they ever caused you, meaning that the overall karmic flow between you and the universe is headed in the right direction.

It’s normal to feel a little sad at this point; this is a time for letting go. Dismantle the shrine that you have built in your bedroom towards the person in order to make space for someone else in your heart. You’re now ready to move on. Rejection is still about you, so it’s relatively easy to transfer your hurt feelings onto the next person who fails to engage with you.

Repeat as often as necessary until you decide it’s time to deal with those hurts within yourself so that you can stop taking rejection so personally. There… don’t you feel so much better now?

Note: Nothing in this post should be misconstrued as using or advocating violence.

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

[ohworm-writes]

BNA: Brand New Animal Relationship Headcanons!

bna masterlist

‼ General Dating Headcanons ‼

Featuring: Shirou Ogami, Michiru Kagemori, Nazuna Hiwatashi, Marie Itami, Pinga

Warnings: spoilers for BNA!, some angst amongst all of them, but mainly tooth-rotting fluff :,)

a/n - thank you for reading!!! BNA doesn’t have enough fanfiction content, so here you go!! i actually adore doing headcanons, so this was nice to be able to write!!! BNA is also my favorite/comfort anime soooooo I couldn't NOT write something for it!!! if you want to see more BNA related works, i’m definitely going to be open to writing them in the future!!! my requests open up next week, so drop one then if you’d like!!! thank you for reading <3

content below the cut!

shirou ogami

» wolf husband!!

» oh we all know he’s gonna be nervous when it comes to love

» he’s scared he can’t trust you at first

» it’s probably gonna stay that way until he gets comfortable with you

» which, albeit, takes quite a while

» but when he does?

» he’s all over you!!

» i like to think he’s a very cuddly person

» he doesn’t show it a lot though, but for you?

» he’ll let it slide

» he’s not one for extravagant gestures though

» so if you’re going on dates

» expect it to being either at his place, or something extremely simple

» i don’t think he’d be particularly for PDA

» but if someone were to flirt with you?

» he won’t be afraid to show them that you’re with him

» again, very cuddly

» he likes to be big spoon cause he wants to make you feel safe

» but he also likes to be held

» the memories of his comrades dying is a memory that’s painfully engraved into the very fibers of his being

» so please show him some love

» kisses!!!!

» oh he LOVES to smother you with kisses

» he’s very affectionate in private

» he just loves you so much!!!

» i like to think that michiru got the two of you together

» just like

» michiru: hey look at that beastman over there! they’re super pretty!!!!

» shirou: yeah, sure

» michiru: i’m going to go say hi

» shirou: w h a t

» also, going back to trauma-

» he doesn’t like to talk about it much

» it brings up bad memories

» so he won’t outwardly talk to you about it

» but if you want to console him?

» you’re one of the few people he can really trust and get vulnerable with

» VERYYYY LOYAL PARTNER

» he loves you, and is so scared of you leaving him

» he would never think about cheating on you (the best boy)

» maybe it ties in with him being a wolf beastman-

» shhhhhhhhhhhh

» very very very nervous to tell you that he’s the silver wolf

» he’s so scared you’re going to leave him or hate him or look at him different

» but the sweet kiss you give him when he tells you melts all of his worries away

» GIVE HIM PETS!!!!!!!!!!

» he’s embarrassed but he loves it!!!!!!!!

» his love language is quality time!!!!!!

» he just wants to spend time with you

» he’ll go out of his way to blow off unimportant things (like michiru-) just to be with you

» softie-

» but we love him <3

michiru kagemori

» AHHH MY SWEET GIRL!!!!

» i love her oh so much

» if she likes you, it’s obvious

» painfully so-

» she gets all flustered before you start dating whenever she talks with you

» tripping over her words

» making a fool of herself

» (somehow more than usual-)

» but when you express you like her back?

» you’re stuck with her

» loves cutesy dates!!

» you wanna just watch a movie???

» she’s got a pillow fort and a ton of snacks at the ready

» you wanna go for a walk?

» you’re dancing with her under the stars in the park

» she’s a sucker for that kind of stuff

» she loves showing you off too

» michiru: everyone, this is my partner, y/n, and they are the best person in the world

» y/n: michiru i-

» she absolutely introduces you to everyone like that

» she loves you too much not to express it!!!

» that leads me to her love language…

» words of affirmation!!!

» she’s going to tell you she loves you at any chance she gets

» and if you’re ever insecure?

» she’s your girl

» she’s also big on physical touch

» loves holding your hand out in public

» hugging you and peppering your face with kisses

» the whole lot!

» she’s such a goofball-

» she’d do something stupid just to make you laugh

» michiru: Y/N! I GREW WINGS! AM I GOING TO LAY AN EGG OR SOMETHING???

» when she first told you she wasn’t a real beastman, she was nervous

» but it all washes away when you hold her and tell her you love her no matter what

» she’d definitely cry at that

» she’s so grateful to have you

» and she would go to any extent just to make you happy

nazuna hiwatashi

» GOD SHE’S SO PRETTY I’M NOT EVEN GONNA LIE

» she’s a very caring partner

» when you first start dating though, she’s very nervous

» will you hate her for faking the silver wolf?

» or maybe because of her slightly dismissive behavior?

» but when you decide to stay? she know’s shes in love

» her love language is touch!

» she always wants to be touching you

» she’s not the best at expressing her love or gratitude through words

» so she lets the soft caresses, forehead kisses, and cuddles do it for her!

» oh i can imagine her being a cuddle bug

» just holding you while the two of you fall asleep

» or you holding her!

» she adores just being able to be near you

» when she introduces you to michiru

» it’s chaos

» y/n: in my defense, I was left unsupervised

» nazuna: wasn't michiru with you?

» michiru: in my defense, I was also left unsupervised

» just being absolute idiots together

» back to nazuna though…

» she gets jealous easily!!!

» you can’t change my mind

» if she thinks you’re giving someone too much attention

» she won’t be afraid to just come in and hug you until you pay attention to her

» it’s adorable

» with the church of the silver wolf tho…

» you probably met AFTER that was all said and done

» she doesn’t really have followers anymore

» and a few beastman still hold a grudge against her

» she gets insecure because of it

» make sure to tell her that you love her for her

» she really needs to hear it

» oh! she loves any romantic gestures

» fancy dates? walks in the park? sign her up!

» she loves too much not to show it

marie itami

» crime weasel

» cbhmasbbchasb okay but seriously i love her

» i like to think that she’s sly with her flirting

» but if you flirt back?

» she’s a flustered mess

» she lovesssss pet names

» she particularly likes using “baby”, “love”, “sweetheart”, and “hun”

» loves if you use some back

» her love language? acts of service

» she loves to help you with small tasks

» opening the door for you? absolutely. grabbing the remote for you? of course!

» she wants you to know she loves you, but mainly in smaller gestures

» not as much of a cuddle bug as the rest, but definitely appreciates it

» she’d never turn you down for hugs or pecks

» any time she has by herself, she wants to spend it with you

» her dates aren’t extravagant though

» cuddling on the couch and watching a movie are her specialty

» i like to think that she usually falls asleep after you

» she’ll talk with you until you eventually fall asleep

» it’s more of a protective thing if anything

» she wants to make sure that you’re okay before she rests

» she loves you so so so much

» you’re the only person she’s allowed herself to be vulnerable with

» she has her own insecurities yes, but she tends to bottle them up

» she doesn’t want to bother you

» she’s better at listening and giving advice than venting it out

» it’s not your fault, she’s just not very keen to it

» she likes to keep your relationship more private than anything

» her job is… not normal, and she doesn’t want to eventually end up making the wrong people mad and get you hurt

» so PDA is kept to a minimum

» but she’ll always make up for that in private

» telling you how much she loves and appreciates you being with her

» she doubts your relationship sometimes, thinking that you deserve better

» tell her you love her

» that you really love her

» and her heart is yours

pingua

» your honor

» i love him

» oh my goodness his love language is totally gift giving

» 100%

» you cannot change my mind

» if you look at something in a store for more than 3 seconds

» expect it to be in your possession by the next day

» he won’t say he did it

» but he totally did it

» taking you on flights???

» yes pLEASE!!!!

» he loves showing you the world from his eyes

» and adores it if you love it as much as he does

» wing hugssssss

» imagine him just draping his wings around you while you guys cuddle

» my heart-

» wait, here me out-

» y/n: mcdonalds! mcdonalds! mcdonalds!

» pingua: mcdonalds! mcdonalds! mcdonalds!

» HE WOULD THOUGH AND YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND

» not afraid to get vulnerable with you

» he’ll talk about his comrades and the stupid regulations with ease

» yes, it’s a tough subject

» but you have to talk about difficult things to get through them

» he has nightmares because of it

» he wakes up in cold sweats sometimes, those images ingrained into his head

» hold him

» please

» tell him that you’re here and you’re not going anywhere

» give him kisses and help him ride it out

» aside for that, another goofball

» loves, and i mean LOVES making you smile

» also a HUGE flirt

» he’s cocky about it too

» pingua: aside from being adorable, what do you do for a living?

» y/n, dying: cjsdbivcbhshdkcjbakjcbhsadbmc

» another one who loves romantic gestures

» i like to think that he’s quite the gentleman

» restaurant dates and dancing are right up his alley

» but dear god he loves you so much

» he has no clue where he’d be without you in his life

[plutowrites]

hey idk if you're still taking requests but when you do, could you make some hcs of eren having a s/o that has a father with anger issues? i just really need it lately...

Hi love, of course I can! I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, I wish I could do more for you than write headcanons :( if you ever need to talk to someone I’m here for you!

sending you all my love♡♡♡

Eren with a S/O who has a Father with Anger Issues

MODERN!AU

When Eren found out about your home environment and how angry your father got, he didn’t know what to do at first

He wanted to be able to take you away and have you always by his side to protect you but he knew he couldn’t do that, at least not in the way he truly wanted to

Eren turned to his mother for help, hoping she could give him advice

He learned that the best thing he could do is support you and be there when you needed him

The two of you came up with a safe word that you text him so that he can come pick you up or call you 

I have a very strong modern!au headcanon that Eren loves driving around, especially to clear his head so he thinks that’s something that would help you whenever you’re feeling stressed or upset! He picks you up (whenever, wherever) and the two of you just cruise around

He wouldn’t push you to talk about anything that had happened with your dad, if you choose to use the time to just listen to music and relax, he’s down for that

However if you want to talk about it and let out your feelings, Eren would console you the best he could

Words of affirmation! Be prepared to constantly hear things like “I’m so grateful for you.” “You deserve the best.” “You’re so special to me and so many others, you know that?”

Eren will cuss out anyone who raises their voice at you or around you, he knows that can be uncomfortable or potentially triggering for you so he handles it!

Always bringing up you moving in with him and at first you thought he was just joking around but you soon realize he’s being 100% serious

Also, Carla absolutely loves when Eren brings you over and makes sure you know that too! She just adores you

[trulies]

Hii! Could I please get a matchup for DC? I'm a straight female, she/her and I'd prefer a male please!

Personality description - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious, I love being the best at everything I do, though I sometimes struggle with the hardwork and conviction needed to get there. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn and distant at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation.

Hobbies/likes - I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I also love true crime very much. I love learning about new things and collecting knowledge, I'm very interested in psychology, history, mythology and folklore, and fashion! I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching psychological thrillers and romcoms.

Thank you very much!! I hope you have a wonderful day ❤️

We match you with...

Tim Drake!!

To Tim, you've always been a ray of sunshine in this hopeless city.

He often comes to you for advice and consoling whenever he becomes overwhelmed with his work load, or depressed about the state of Gotham and its darkness. You help him, but also take him away from his work whenever you know he's about to max out.

When getting away from Gotham, whether actually travelling or just psychologically escaping inwardly, you both love to participate in mentally stimulating activites like reading, going to museums and cultural events, taking classes for fun, and other activities that allow you to express yourselves creatively and improve your minds.

Your shared intellectual curiosity and interest in learning new things is probably what brought you together. Both of you appreciate the value of culture, the sciences, and the arts.

Sometimes you dream of quitting your jobs and escaping to travel the world, but you both value your responsibilites too much. So you both just face the darkness of Gotham head on, because at least you have each other.

[hankwritten]

And She Dresses Like a Scoundrel

Engineer/Spy, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 4: Fashion

“Thank you, Engineer,” I said gratefully, accepting back the once again functional disguise kit.

“No problem, partner,” he replied, gracious as ever. “Must have been a hard three days without it.”

“Indeed.” I sighed, recalling how many sentries had gotten the better of me with a grimace. “To think, less than a year ago I was relying entirely on my own skills of camouflage to create my disguise. I would even do it for fun! But here I am, ten months working for BLU and I’ve become completely dependent on their technology.” Another sigh, this time more beleaguered. “Truly, I have let myself slip.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Spy,” he said, consoling.

I raised my hand. “No need to be patronizing, my friend. I know the writing on the wall.” I waved, preparing to exit his workshop. “Thank you again for the repair, Engineer.”

But as I was halfway to the door, Engie blurted, “why don’t you?”

“Come again?” I asked, turning around.

“Why don’t you make your own disguises anymore?” he repeated, seemingly genuinely confused.

“As I said, I haven’t needed to,” I shrugged. “And thus, my skills have lapsed.”

“But if it was for fun, why’d you stop?”

At that I paused. It had been fun, one of my greatest prides was coming up with a new face and a new identity to fit any particular occasion. There was no greater joy than reintroducing yourself to someone under a new guise and seeing them have no idea.

“…I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “Probably because, despite my enjoyment, I associated the activity exclusively with work.”

That satisfied his curiosity, though it did make him rather dour. “Makes sense.” He thought for a moment. “But you could always pick it back up again?”

“I’d be horridly out of practice,” I waved off.

“So? We all gotta start somewhere.”

I tilted my head. “Why does this interest you so?”

He pushed up his goggles, chewing on some thought until it left a peculiar look about his face. “Just seems a shame,” he said eventually, “All that talent going to waste. You seem mighty busy all the time, never see you do anything just because you enjoy it.”

I pressed my lips together. There was a certain truth to that, and I wondered internally if I was being resistant for no reason. “...Hm. I... suppose you are right. Even if I do have access to a near flawless disguise kit, there’s no reason to set it aside entirely.”

“There you go! You sound gung-ho already.”

I didn’t, but he was familiar with my habit of faint praise to cover up genuine enthusiasm. “I appreciate the suggestion,” I told him honestly. “…Maybe when you see me next, you won’t even know it is I.”

Engie grinned, and it was charming how vicious he looked when he was trying to be encouraging. “Looking forward to it.”

Of my old wigs, only the black one with its loose curls had managed to survive its year in storage. Even still, there was frizz on a good portion of it, and after a half hour of teasing I gave up and began tearing apart the rest of my wardrobe for something to lesson its imperfections. What I found was a scarf, red and silken, and decided it would have to do.

A full-length buttoned coat, and pair of striped legs. Yes, these would be serviceable.

But first, makeup . I remembered that much at least, though I failed to recall the first rule of application: always begin with the eyes. The result was that I was left with a perfect pair of heart lips and a disgusting smudge across my sockets, the latter of which I had no interest in starting over on. Instead, I retrieved a pair of sunglasses from my trunk. I deserved to cut a few corners after so long, and anyone who said differently could try their makeup after a year without practice and see if they could do better.

When I was done, a perfectly lovely woman stared back at me. The stare turned into a frown. A perfectly lovely woman a year out of fashion. What was I wearing? Leggings? Good god, those were on the way out last fall.

I began to examine myself in the mirror, cursing myself for ever becoming so woefully outdated. I’d had my finger in the crease of Dapper Cadaver without pause for the past hundred issues, but I hadn’t even bothered to pick up a single magazine on women’s fashion? Disgraceful. Something would have to be done about this.

By the time I made it down to breakfast, someone had already made the first pot of the morning. I filled a mug and sat down.

Medic didn’t so much as blink. He lifted his eyes, greeting, “Guten Morgen, Herr Spy,” and returned to his medical notes. By the spots of blood, they were likely fresh.

Soldier was another story. “By God! You finally did it, Nurse,” he said, gripping the back of Medic’s chair and shaking him slightly. “You turned Spy into a woman!”

“I did not,” Medic said, peeling one of Soldier’s hands off his shoulder. He then considered for a moment, and addressed me, “unless this is your way of making a statement?”

“Non,” I shook my head. “Not entirely, at least. Soldier is right, but this is not permanent: I simply wished to get back into a more…flexible mode of presentation.” I paused for a second. “What did he mean by ‘finally’?”

“Are you implying I have been working secretly in my lab for the past two years on some sort of sex-change ray that would be sure to result in wacky hijinxs should it ever be completed?” Medic sipped his coffee. “Because I’m not and that is ridiculous.”

“…I see.”

If Soldier’s reaction was passionate, Engineer’s was somehow even more so. Before he even fully entered the kitchen, he stopped dead, his eyes locked on me. A few times he tried to speak, failed, and settled for scratching the back of his neck.

“Seems like you took my advice on the whole disguise work,” he said eventually. Now he had trouble looking at me altogether, a deep blush forming along his cheeks.

“I did,” I smirked, amused at his state. “Though unfortunately I’ve found my current wardrobe is not what I’d like it to be. I was hoping to use today’s ceasefire to do some shopping.”

“You want some company?” he asked, then immediately got flustered again. “Just uh…cause I know you don’t like taking your car though all the dust ‘less you absolutely have to, and nearest city with a shopping mall is pretty far…”

“Ah, so you are offering to drive,” I mused. “And here I thought you believed I suddenly needed assistance carrying my bags.”

Medic snorted, though when Engie shot him a glare he showed no indication he’d even been listening.

“…I can give you a lift, sure,” the Engineer affirmed slowly, still frowning offendedly in Medic’s direction.

“That is unacceptable!” Soldier chimed, brining his fist down on the table and making the silverware tinkle. “You two are not yet married! You think you can just go on a trip into town while unchaperoned? It is indecent!”

Engie sputtered, losing the bit of coffee he’d had the misfortune of drinking. “Soldier! What hell are you talking about?” he sputtered. “That ain’t- it’s still just Spy.”

“Exactly,” Soldier agreed. “That is why the two of you cannot be left alone together. Do not worry! I volunteer to accompany you on this shopping trip.”

Medic was laughing, having a much more difficult time hiding it now.

I grinned placidly. “You heard the man, Engineer,” I said. “It would go against decency to be about without a chaperone.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling his helmet further over his eyes. “Guess I’ll make the truck up for three.”

As much as I wanted to see if he would pop like a balloon if any more blood went to his face, I decided he’d had enough for the morning. I kept our conversation within acceptable subjects on the way up, and refrained from commenting on his new collection of odd mannerisms. It was quite adorable actually, especially when Soldier would lean out of the back seat every now and then to remind him ‘no funny business’.

When arriving at the glorious superplex that was the Santa Fe outdoor mall, the first thing on my agenda was a new jacket. The one extracted from the bowels of my old wardrobe was such a drab mauve, and with some help from the assistant at Loveman’s, I was able to find a few acceptable pantsuits. One could only expect “acceptable” when shopping chic in a department store—and a department store in America no less—but hopefully the rivers of fashion had trickled down enough that I wouldn’t embarrass myself too badly. The white plaid one was even quite fetching.

Next were hats.

“Engineer! Spy!” Soldier arrested our attention with. “I have located something I would like to purchase.”

He was wearing a newsboy hat over the top of his helmet.

“You needn’t ask us for permission,” I told him. “You have your own funds.”

He straightened like he honestly hadn’t thought of that. “Okay!” Then he was off again, sorting through the seemingly never-ending headwear.

“Some chaperone,” Engie remarked as he disappeared.

“I’m sure we can be trusted alone for but a few minutes,” I said, turning with a blue cloche hat in place. “What do you think of this one?”

“As pretty as the last. I mean-” He coughed. “Looks just fine.”

I smiled. “Here I thought you’d had enough teasing, but it seems you’re doing all the work for me.”

“Dang it Spy, I just meant-” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know what, let’s just head to the jewelry.”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately jewelry is too much of a hazard. Rings and bracelets make removing gloves difficult, and necklaces are extremely useful for strangling your target from behind.”

“Terrifying that you put it like that, but remember you ain’t doing this for the job,” he prompted. “This is you getting a chance to try something different. D’ya want to wear a necklace?”

As he said it, he moved closer to the jewelry counter. I followed him, peering through the glass at all the trinkets I usually dismissed when assembling a woman’s portfolio. They were lovely…

“Mademoiselle,” I called to the woman behind the counter. “Might I be able to try this on?”

Engie whistled. “Nice choice.”

“I happen to have exquisite taste in jewelry,” I told him, gazing at my reflection in the glass as it wore the blue teardrop pendant I had picked out. “Both when selecting for a lover, or for myself.”

The attendant gave me an odd look, but it was worth it to see Engineer chuckle in a way that no longer uncomfortable.

“I have located another!” Soldier informed us as we took our bag. This time he was wearing a Viking helmet. From where he had obtained it, I had no idea.

“Then finish up paying,” Engie said. “We’re heading out soon.”

“Not so fast, Engineer,” I stopped him as he’d taken a step toward the door. “We still have not gotten anything for you.”

“Me?” he balked, craning his neck around like he was suddenly intimidated by the voluptuous mannequins surrounding us. “I don’t need nothin’…”

“And why not?” I asked. “We have dedicated the whole morning to me, and Soldier is finding ways to entertain himself, why shouldn’t you acquire something nice?”

“I…”

“Please, my friend,” I said. “My treat.”

“…Alright,” he sighed. “Sorry Sol, looks like-”

Soldier had acquired a bowler hat, which he wore on top of his Viking helm.

“-Well okay then.”

The Engineer provided an interesting challenge. The first thing I noticed was that everything in his size was far too long for him, and it made me question how he’d even found fitting clothes in the first place when everything in the store simply wanted to fall off him in tubes. He explained that he usually had to hem up his pants after buying them. I thought that was adorable, to which he muttered a string of ‘aw shucks’.

In a montage where Engie grew more flustered by the minute, I managed to get him into a delightful pair of corduroy pants with a mustard button down, an orange sweater with matching slacks, and a simple floral print button down that might go under his overalls. However, my absolute favorite was-

“Well now you’re just being rude,” he said, holding up the jacket.

“Howdy partner,” I mimicked. “Why don’t we just give up?”

“I don’t sound like that,” he complained. “And I definitely don’t wear things like this.”

The cowboy leathers were the sort of pink you saw from a mile away, genuine cow hide wasted on the monstrosity in his hands. There were more tassels than a man could ever want, and they went wonderfully with the white chaps and matching white Stetson.

“This is an eyesore,” he said.

“So are your regular clothes,” I reflected. “Please, I only ask that you try them on.”

He grumbled, and stepped into the changing room. That was good. I’d hate to have to bring out the, ‘for me?’.

“It’s certainly…something,” I said six minutes later.

“A trainwreck,” Engie said.

“You’re smiling,” I pointed out.

He grinned a little wider. He turned in a circle, the hundreds of tassels swishing around him, and then for good measure did a little two-step. I couldn’t help but chuckle with a hand over my mouth.

A shopper with a mustache passed by and gave us a strange look, and for some reason I started laughing harder.

“What’s got you so tickled?” Engie inquired.

“Nothing,” I waved off with a smile. “I was just thinking: after the thirty-five times the two of use have appeared in public together, this the first that you’re the queer one.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at himself. “Heh, I guess so.” Then he started to laugh. “…So. You been counting the number of times we’ve gone out together?”

“Is it so odd that I enjoy your company?

“No but…” he studied me for a moment. “Would you like to do this again some time? Assuming we can ditch the chaperone.”

“Mr. Conagher, how scandalous!” I said with mock horror. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He gave me one of those charming smiles again, and my heart fluttered ever so slightly.

Soldier greeted us on the way out, hat boxes stacked so high we couldn’t see his face anymore. “Operation successful! Move out troops!”

“Soldier,” Engie asked as he began securing boxes in the back of his pickup so there wouldn’t be a colossal hat pileup on the highway, “how long until you stop following my ‘n Spy around?”

“I do not know. Spy! How long are you going to be a women?”

I adjusted my new hat in the side mirror. “Until I feel otherwise.”

“Well then there you go!” Soldier declared. “It is perfectly acceptable for two unmarried men to be alone together, so you may resume making moon eyes at each other then.”

That, for once, got us both to flush.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Congrats on 100 followers!! Here's to so many more of them <333. Could I please be shipped with either someone from the marauders or someone from marvel? I'm a straight female and I'd prefer a male please!

Hobbies/likes - I love reading, my favorite genres are fantasy and poetry. I also love learning about new things and collecting knowledge, I'm very interested in psychology, history, mythology and folklore, and fashion! I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching psychological thrillers and romcoms.

Personality description - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious, I love being the best at everything I do, though I sometimes struggle with the hardwork and conviction needed to get there. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch.

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long wavy dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and slight dark circles under my eyes and I have broad shoulders. I dress mostly in relaxed suits, blazers and coats and I love the occasional dress or sweaters layered over a white button down!

Thank you very much!! I hope you have a wonderful day 💞

hi :)

for the marauders, i ship you with remus, and for marvel, i ship you with peter parker (i’m envisioning andrew’s peter, but any of them fit)

for remus, i think he’d find you really interesting. i think remus gets a little overwhelmed or annoyed around certain people and needs a type of person that can recognize what he needs from them, and i think you’d be that person for him. he can be reserved to, take a while to open up, and i think you’d be at a good balance with each other. he’d recognize if you were getting worked up and needed space, or if you needed him with you in silence, he’d respect whatever you chose. i think he’d first be attracted to you and your style, but really fall for you when he found out about all your interests. i think he’d love discussing your favorite books or any facts you learned recently with you just to watch your face light up and four eyes brighten when you spoke about them. he’d laugh when james or sirius would beat you in any sort of competition and tease you getting flustered over it, but immediately recognize the switch in you when you needed him to console you.

he’d wrap his arms around you, holding you close. “alright love, calm down, it’s ok, it’s just a game.”

you’d get frustrated at your reaction, huffing into his chest, murmuring. “i know.”

he’d chuckle, rocking you back and forth for a minute. after a while, he’d speak up again. “sirius is terrible with trivia, but will never back down from a challenge. how about we propose a little game to him, hmm?”

you’d nod, excitedly, the pair of you grinning and scheming.

for peter, he’d love that you’re into some of the same passions as he is. you’d take notice of his photography, watching him in school as he’d fiddle with his camera. one day he’d catch you watching him, and give you a shy smile as he raised the camera and took a photo of you. “for the yearbook,” he’d say, even though you knew he was lying. when he finally confessed about being spider-man to you, you’d react dramatically. he’d come over with bruises on his body, and you’d act like he got hit by a train.

“peter parker! i told you to be more careful, you’re too pretty to have bruises like that. what did you do, jump off a building?”

a blush would rise to his cheeks as you turned his face from side to side, checking him over. “got punched, and it’s already healing, quit worrying.”

you’d give him a glare, and he’d quickly change the subject. “so how’s that book you started going?”

[elaboratedbee]

Bigby x Reader

Request For: @awfullest​

Rating: E

Summary: The Mundies think that there are five love languages, and Bigby’s going to need to learn how to speak every single one of them if he’s going to get you to understand how he feels.

Word Count: 4623

Note: i loved this prompt!! i thought it would be super cute to come up with all the ways bigby could try and get the reader’s attention without being obvious :’) big thank you to @punxgal​ for teaching my dumbass what a taglist is, so i started one! just hit me with a message if you want to be added (or just want to rant about bigby lmao) ily guys!!

Taglist: @punxgal​

Five Ways To Say I Love You

 “You know, the Mundies think that there are five love languages,” Snow informed him, watching with a faint smile of amusement as Bigby quite literally banged his head against the wall of the Business Office. While usually she didn’t enjoy dispensing love advice; after all, she was a very busy woman, watching Bigby experience any kind of emotion, let alone love, was more than worth it. His pining was probably the most amusing thing that had happened in Fabletown in a long while, so she was happy to be his confident. 

“And I can think of five ways to tell Mundies how that sounds fucking stupid,” came Bigby’s gruff response, but he did finally move away from the wall and come around to join her at the desk, which she could only assume was Bigby Speak for her to continue. 

“Words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time, and physical touch.” After Snow had revealed them, the wolf repeated the list under his breath as he committed them to his memory, before he huffed in frustration. 

“Nothing I do works! Nothing I say comes out right and they’re just so –”

“ – perfect, I know,” Snow cut him off, more than familiar with this particular rant, “maybe if you ever did something about it and made it clear that you were interested, they might actually respond positively. You’ve been pining for months, Bigby! It’s getting embarrassing.” His scowl was lost on her, as she was more than used to dealing with an angry Bigby and his frustration at his own love life certainly wasn’t the worst she had dealt with. 

“Fuck off, it’s not pining,” Bigby growled at her, as he produced a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. Snow didn’t bother to argue the point, because she could tell by the long and hopeless drag he took of his cigarette that the Sheriff already knew that it was true. “I’ll try that Mundy thing.” Bigby admitted after a long time, before he nodded at her and stalked out of the office to patrol the streets of Fabletown, or whatever else he got up to whenever there wasn’t some major emergency that he contacted her about. Well, that was about as much thanks as she could expect. She sighed, and rolled her eyes as she watched him retreat. Men. 

Words Of Affirmation

Bigby was head over heels for you. Since Snow had become the Deputy Mayor, there wasn’t much about Fabletown that hadn’t improved. Not everything had changed drastically of course, and there wasn’t a night that went by on the job that the wolf didn’t wish that things could be better for all of the Fables that lived here, but he could console himself with the fact that they were getting better. Slowly was better than not at all, after all. He supposed that he should apply that same philosophy to his feelings for his current infatuation, since he did think that he was making slow progress. You had taken a job casting spells and creating glamours on the thirteenth floor almost half a year ago, now, and it had taken barely any time at all for Bigby to realise that you were everything he had ever wanted.

Every so often, a crime occurred that could benefit from the help of someone who was proficient in magic, such as covering up the scene of a particularly noticeable crime from Mundies or assisting with the aftermath. Bigby had recently found himself running to you every single time a matter like this befell, with the whispers and teasing from some of the other staff at the Business Office being more than worth the chance to spend so many prolonged hours working with you and witnessing your gift. This often came with the additional bonus of being able to show you that he was made the Sheriff for more than his strength. Most of the Fables thought that he was given the position purely due to his violent streak, so to be able to display his prowess at investigating crimes made a nice change.

Tonight, was one of those nights and the two of you had ventured out to cast a spell over a building that had been set on fire by an arsonist. Although the fire had been combatted with the help of some water nymphs, the plumes of black smoke obscuring the horizon were sure to pique the interest of any Mundies within a couple of miles radius. It struck the Sheriff that now was the perfect opportunity to use the first of Snow’s techniques as he walked you back to the Business Office, enjoying the pleasure of hearing you rant and rave about howof all of the possible crimes, arson was certainly the most pointless and dangerous. Bigby loved how passionate you were, how you could probably form a strong and justified opinion on almost any topic. He loved the way you used your hands and gesticulated wildly without even realising, like you were always casting a spell. It certainly felt like you had cast one over him, after all, he was constantly thinking about you. The first thought on his mind in the morning, and the person running through his mind whenever he attempted to sleep.

The two of you reached the business office and entered the deathtrap elevator. He took the opportunity to employ his first method as you had fallen silent when pressing the button for the thirteenth floor, before hitting the one for Bigby’s Office, too. The wolf felt a spark of happiness as he noted how well you knew him, his routines and habits. Although he hadn’t known you for very long, it was obvious that the Sorcerer was the kind of person that noticed the little things, that cared for each and every person that came into the Business Office looking for help, whether it be a standard glamour or something with far higher stakes. The dedication to their job was something that Bigby could very much relate to, and the fact that you often complimented the Sheriff on his duty to Fabletown made his heart warm in his chest – not many people did.

The only problem was, every time Bigby had tried to compliment you back, he failed miserably. Either it came out completely wrong, or it didn’t come out at all. But this time, it would be different. He had used the entire walk to plan what he was going to say, and now was the time to implement it. As the elevator rose, Bigby removed his cigarette from his mouth and met your eyes, trying not to focus on your mesmerising beauty. “Thanks,” he managed to get out, his voice rough, “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re the best Sorcerer I know.” The words were genuine, even if they were a little bit gruff and came out a little fast, and the Sheriff internally celebrated. Finally. He watched closely as your eyes lit up with joy and pride and you stood up just a little bit taller than before. It had made every bit of stress worth it, in Bigby’s eyes.

“Thanks, Bigby. I’d say you were the best Sheriff I know, but you’re sort of the only Sheriff I know,” you teased him with a smile, and leaned forward to punch his shoulder gently. God, everything seemed to come so easily to you, he noted. The way you spoke and joked with him, managing to drag a smile out of him even on his darkest days, the way you touched him so casually. Perfect. The elevator doors slid open, and you flashed him one more bright smile before you were gone.

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Bigby slumped against the elevator wall and luxuriated in the feeling for a long moment. On some level, he could recognise that it was mildly insane to feel such euphoria over such a minute interaction, one that you probably wouldn’t even remember when tomorrow arrived, but he didn’t care. The elevator arrived at the Business Office and the door opened to reveal Bluebeard standing there. His eyes narrowed when he saw the Sheriff, and his mouth opened, but he was cut off as the wolf walked right past him, dropping his cigarette at the man’s feet.

“Fuck off, Bluebeard.”

Acts Of Service

“Bigby, you really don’t have to do this,” your voice came from behind him as continued his way down the hall, carrying the large wooden desk in his arms. Considering your hard work, it was really only a matter of time before they got promoted, and Bigby was incredibly pleased that your talent was being recognised. Along with the promotion came a brand-new office, that Bigby was currently help you move your things into.

“It’s no trouble, really,” he insisted once again and that was telling the truth. The desk was really no problem for the wolf to manage, but the praise made it feel even lighter. You followed along behind him with a box of personal affects, pictures and stationery, along with a little cactus that, to quote you, ‘even you couldn’t kill.’

They entered the office, which, like most of the Business Office, was somewhat in a state of disrepair. The lighting was dim, the window dirty and the paint a faded, peeling yellow. Even still, he watched you regard it as if it were a silver palace, a spark in your eyes. Unlike Bigby, you were an optimist, always able to see the bright side of life and the best in people. It was a refreshing change to the wolf, who very rarely had a reason to give people the benefit of the doubt in his line of work. You saw the best in him, having never been afraid of him for a second, and throwing him a bemused look whenever he tried to pull his ‘big, bad wolf’ act around you.

“Thanks for helping me,” he felt a hand on his arm and the warm pressure grounded him, causing him to meet your eyes, “there was no way I could’ve dragged that heavy ass desk down this hallway. You’re handy, you know that?” The compliment was strange, and Bigby huffed at the word. Handy. There was something almost domestic about it, which caused a warmth to spread through his chest.  

“Yeah, well, I’m only downstairs if you need me,” Bigby reassured you, the feeling of being needed satisfying the more primal parts of his nature. To be able to help you, provide for you, was what the wolf inside him desperately craved.

“Good to know you’re not just a pretty face,” you teased him with a wink and Bigby almost choked on his own spit. He felt hot under the collar all of a sudden and he cleared his throat before he was able to answer, much to his enchantment's clear amusement. Even though you were clearly fucking with him, the implication that you thought he was attractive was enough to imprint this very moment on his mind for what he was sure was the rest of all time.

“I’m a man of many talents,” the Sheriff managed to reply, his voice rich with sarcasm as he bumped his cigarette packet, making one shoot up out of the box. He raised it to his lips, quirking his eyebrows at the other Fable as means of asking for permission, a very rare honour that was not often bestowed upon. You nodded their approval and the wolf sparked up, taking a deep drag. After all, he was fairly sure that if he didn’t find something to focus his thoughts on, he was going to kiss you here and now. The way that you were leaning against the desk, the one that he had moved for you, was testing his self-control in ways that he hadn’t expected. What he wouldn’t give to just push you over the desk and –

“I think it just needs a new coat of paint,” your voice (thankfully) interrupted his thoughts before they could spiral any further. Bigby grunted and exhaled his smoke.

“I can help with that.”

Receiving Gifts and Quality Time

It had taken him forever to find, but Bigby didn’t plan to admit that to anyone else. He held the cassette tape in his hands, remembering so clearly the first time you had showed him one. One late night, he had caught you leaving the Woodlands as he approached, bruised and tired after a long day. He wasn’t particularly happy that you were here at such a late hour, you work ethic concerning at times; it made him worry that you didn’t get enough rest, which was more than ironic coming from him. Despite how battered he must have looked, it didn’t stop the smile from breaking out on your face at the sight of him, and it made his long day seem just a little less long. As you walked through the glass doors, Bigby noted a strange device in your hands, with wires that followed all the way up to your head.

“What the fuck is that?” He asked, amused at the sight of it. It was cold on the street, but the Sheriff was more than happy to linger outside for a little more time as long as it meant he got to speak to you.

“It’s a Walkman,” you informed him brightly, and it was immediately clear from your tone that this little device brought you no shortage of joy, “it plays cassette tapes.” The wolf had some vague recollection of what a cassette tape was, although he had never heard of the “Walkman,” so he could gather that it had something to do with music at least. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher the little thing, when suddenly you were stepping forward into his space. With bated breath, Bigby tensed as you pulled off their headphones and held them up between the both of you, leaning close.

Don't leave me this way.

The music played and provided him with something to focus his mind on and flood his senses with, which was a welcome release now that your scent was flooding his nose so distractingly. When you were this close, Bigby could see every little detail of your face, and he found himself committing every last detail to his memory. The faint scar you had just above your eyebrow that he so desperately wanted to know the story behind, the permanent imprint on your lower lip that you had left from biting it so much, every shade in your eyes.

I can't survive, I can't stay alive.

You met his eyes, clearly waiting to hear his judgement, but Bigby didn’t offer one, wanting to prolong the moment of intimacy for as long as he could get away with it. He couldn’t help it, after all, having you so close to him was intoxicating. It was a feeling of pride and accomplishment to him, that you had chosen to share this part of yourself  with him.

Without your love, no baby.

“I like it,” he admitted, although what he really liked was the way his approval made a smile emerge on your face, illuminated by the soft yellow lights of the Woodland. The simple praise was enough, although Bigby wished that he could find better words, more impressive ones. You had a way of making him feel like that way; of making him feel that for all of his inadequacies, he was enough. It was a more addicting feeling than smoking his damn cigarettes.

Don't leave me this way.

Bigby knew that if he stayed stood there for much longer, he would inevitably do or say something that was going to get him trouble, so he cleared his throat and stepped back, watching you click a little button the stop the cassette from playing. You looked almost disappointed that you had to go, but it was late and cold, so Bigby was glad you would finally go home and get some rest. The song’s words came back to him as you bid him goodnight and retreated into the night, hailing a cab. Don’t leave me this way.

He didn’t want you to leave at all.

The Sheriff had laboured over finding the perfect gift for you after that, stopping by many Mundy places whenever he had a spare moment, or his work brought him close to the edge of Fabletown. Gently, he placed the cassette down on your desk, wrapped carefully by Snow after she had seen Bigby’s attempt at it and laughed outright.

Even better, it had become a habit of yours to sit side by side in his office every so often and listen to whatever song had become your recent obsession. He would listen to you talk about what made it good, or why you loved the band and enjoy your company much more than he enjoyed the songs themselves. It had been a long time since Bigby had done something just because he enjoyed it. Not to escape, or distract himself, or to forget, but something that made him grateful for the here and now. Sometimes, he was in a good mood and he offered his opinions, which slowly became more informed over time as you listened and asked for his favourites. Other times, he was exhausted and broken after a day of dealing with the worst that Fabletown had to offer, and he would sit in silence, letting the sound of your music and your voice wash over him. It was like the tide, eroding a jagged stone smooth, corroding away all of his edges and damaged parts so gently that he hardly even noticed.

Stepping back, the wolf smiled proudly to himself and propped a cigarette between his lips. This whole love languages thing was getting easier all the time.

Physical Touch

For all his success, this was certainly the one that Bigby was most nervous about. After all, he wasn’t exactly known for his ability to be gentle. A good chunk of the Fables probably thought that the Sheriff was directly synonymous with bruises and a ringing pain in their heads after he had used force to encourage them to comply with the law so many times.

The ballroom spread out before him, as picturesque and charming as it was every year. Bigby was so nervous that he regarded it more like a battlefield than a ballroom, the polished wood floor masking countless traps and landmines, the spinning and smiling Fables his enemies, waiting for him to slip up. The many twinkling lights gave the room an iridescent glow, but he felt like they were interrogation lights, his nerves rising in his stomach as he waited for you to arrive.

It had been the first year of the Remembrance Ball that Bigby had been the one to convince somebody else to go, considering he was usually the one to be dragged along so unwillingly by Snow. Not this year. This year, he was prepared. He had sacrificed his pride and given up far too many evenings to twirling around the Business Office with Snow once the building quietened at night and while he still lacked a fundamental sense of grace, he was now at least proficient enough that he wouldn’t stand on your feet. For the first time in centuries, Bigby had sought out a brand new suit, one that wasn’t as terribly dated as his previous one, although it was still a simple and understated design. Goddammit, Bigby had even been extra careful on the job the evening before, carefully avoiding taking any hits to the face, so that he wouldn’t be bruised and bleeding. There was nothing else he could do; he was ready.

At least, he thought he was. But no amount of preparation could have prepared him for seeing you walk through the ornate doors. He imagined that the feeling he experienced must have been akin to being struck by lightning, as it travelled through his entire body within the span of a second and paralysed him. It completely broke his brain trying to process how completely and utterly perfect you looked when you were dressed to the nines and he suddenly understood why the other Fables enjoyed this damned dance so much. For in that instant, Bigby would have done it all over again, a million times and lived a million miserable lives just to be given the chance to dance with you tonight.

To his delight, your eyes scanned the crowd and settled on him, so he lifted his glass as a means of greeting, beginning to cross the dance floor so that the two of you could meet in the middle. He quickly lost sight of you in the crowd, but eventually, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Well, you clean up nice,” the voice was familiar and teasing, which made Bigby feel hot under the collar.

“I could say the same about you,” he returned easily, gesturing to your elaborate clothing. The Sheriff wanted to vocalise it so much better. You looked positively divine, to the point where the other Fables within a visible radius had their eyes stuck on you, either jealous or starstruck. Bigby was overcome with the overwhelming desire to make sure they all knew who you had come for and it was the push he needed to step forward and take you in his eyes. He watched your eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised that Bigby had been so forward and so confident in leading you into an, albeit very simple, dance. All those evenings were certainly paying off.

Emboldened, Bigby made a second and better attempt, “you’re breath-taking. Nobody can take their eyes off of you.” Watching the blush break out on your face, coupled by your closeness, was enough to make Bigby feel that he was in heaven. Your scent was in his nose, even sweeter tonight with whatever scent you were wearing, and you were safe in his arms, his and only his, even if it was just for tonight. Physical touch, he thought, was quite possibly his favourite love language in the world.

It wasn’t enough, he could never get enough of you. He wondered if he would ever be fully satiated, surely not when felt like he wanted to drown in you. Pulling you close, he could feel how rapid your heartbeat was in your chest, and a smile crossed his face. “I didn’t take you for a dancer,” the surprise was evident in your tone, and not at all unjustified. After all, the Sheriff had refused to dance at this damn thing for quite literally centuries, so he supposed he was equally responsible for the stares they were receiving as you spun on, unphased.

“Like I told you, I’m a man of many talents,” Bigby repeated the sentiment from one of your older conversations, which earned him a laugh that he could feel resonate through his body, which was even better than simply hearing it.

“Alright, alright, be all mysterious, then,” you didn’t push him for a real answer any further, which filled him with a sense of relief, because he was certain that once he admitted to begging Snow for lessons, he was never going to live it down. His reputation as the big, bad wolf was already sure to take a large enough hit just from the fact that he had now been seen by almost every Fable dancing, so he really didn’t think it would be able to survive that on top of it all. Slowly, he could feel you relax into his arms as one song turned into two, then three. The orchestra played beautifully, but after a few songs, he felt a murmur in his ear.

“Man, they should have let us pick the music for this thing,” you joked quietly, as not to offend anyone in the near proximity, and Bigby fought to prevent himself from laughing too loudly and causing them to gain any more attention. The novelty of seeing the Sheriff dance had mostly faded by now, the whispers and comments over with for the most part, so he was eager to retain your low profile. He nodded his agreement, struck by how pleasant he found it that you were so similar to him in some ways and different in others. You were not the type to be overly enamoured by the illusion of glamour that the Fables created for Remembrance every year, but more the type to focus on the simple and understated beauties of everyday life. That, Bigby thought, was something truly rare and special and he intended to never let it escape him.

Bigby knew that he wanted to be with you forever. For the first time, he could imagine waking up next to someone every day and falling asleep with them at night. He wanted to be the person on your mind at all hours of the day and the one to comfort you after a terrible day or listen to your stupid jokes after a good one. Bigby wanted to come home to music blaring out of the tape player, instead of the silence and damp of his apartment. He wanted to part ways not just with a smile when you shared the elevator ride to the Business Office, but with a kiss. God, he was head over heels, and no matter how he said it, any one of the godforsaken five ways, he no longer cared. He just had to say it. He needed you to know.

You moved your hand from his shoulder to straighten his tie with a fond smile and that was it for Bigby. Pulling you close, one of his rough hands came up to cover yours, pressing your hand against his chest so that you could probably feel his heartbeat, rapid and strong. The other cupped your jaw, his touch gentler than he ever thought a monster could be capable of. He watched a thousand different emotions flicker through your eyes as he leaned in, too fast for even the Sheriff to be able to process and recognise them all. Your lips met and everything just stopped. It was like Bigby’s mind went completely blank of thoughts and all he could do was feel. His arms tightened around you as he tried to put all he had into it – every last word that he could never find, every smile that he had wished were a kiss, every song that he would never be able to hear and not think of you and this very moment.

Eventually, you pulled back from one another, but not far. You stayed close, your foreheads pressed together as you recovered, breathing together. “The Mundies say that there are five ways to show someone you love them,” Bigby informed you, after a long moment of silence, not entirely sure why he had said it.

“That’s so fucking stupid,” you replied, your voice much breathier than it had been a minute ago, and Bigby grinned widely at how closely your response had echoed his own. It was stupid, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care because it had worked, and he had you in his arms and he had kissed you, and he was never going to let you go. You began to sway again, finding your way back to the music and to reality, as much as he wanted to stay wrapped up in that moment forever.

It didn’t matter how many ways there were, Bigby thought, because he was going to discovery every, damn one.

[mbavholidayexchange]

to @rowsha from @pixiepaintt

title: pumpkin pasties and unspoken promises

rating: teen and up audiences

summary:

Benny wasn’t the biggest fan of pumpkin pasties. They were too sweet and too savory and the flavors all mashed into one nasty confection he could hardly call a treat. He'd avoided them ever since his first year.

But when a blonde-headed vampire asks him to try one, he can't bring himself to say no...

ao3 link: link

content:

Benny wasn’t the biggest fan of pumpkin pasties.

They were savory, filled with rich sage and toasted garlic, yet also sweetly crusted with browned sugar and butter. He wasn’t typically a picky eater; he would scarf down most of the Great Hall if it weren’t for those stingy elves (once, he’d snuck into the kitchen at night for pudding and woke up all of the teachers with his screams). But something about the pumpkin pasties made him wince. He wished they would just pick a flavor category and stick to it.

Rory loved them. Every Saturday morning, as the three boys walked to breakfast together, he’d ramble about how long the weekdays had been and how he would give anything for the pumpkin pasties to be available every morning. He usually raced to the hall to gather up all of the pasties from the Gryffindor table for himself; then he’d eventually feel bad and return a couple. Of course, he kept the majority for himself, but it was the thought that counted.

Benny, despite his disdain for the fickle pastries, would never outwardly show it because he was a good friend. His way of showing affection often coincided with insults, but he didn’t want to seriously hurt his friends. Even if Rory liked the grossest food known to warlock, he deserved at least some happiness.

Right now, he wasn’t happy. The two Gryffindor boys were stood outside Ethan’s dorm room at ten minutes past eight. By now, they should be in the Great Hall loading their plates full of the weekend delicacies but a certain someone was too concerned about his likability.

“Guys, do you think Sarah likes straight hair or gelled hair?” Ethan called from across the door.

“Dude, who cares, the pumpkin pasties are probably all gone by now,” Rory wailed, “I’m doomed to eat sticky pancakes and oily hashbrowns for life!”

Benny slung an arm around his shoulder, trying to suppress his laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get some,” Benny promised, grinning.

Rory let out a pleased squeal– seriously, what kind of teenage boy squealed?– and turned to crush Benny in a hug. He was definitely the most physically affectionate of the group and Benny didn’t mind one bit. Except for the fact that he valued his life.

“Watch the bones,” Benny grimaced, “some of us are mortal.”

He was immediately released and prodded at, a bashful Rory checking for any damage. It wasn’t his fault; vampire strength was hard to control, especially as a newborn. He got excited easily and wanted to share his happiness with his friends, but it unfortunately sometimes ended in a broken bone or two. Fortunately, Benny was good at crafting excuses to get Madam Pomfrey to heal them.

“Sorry, Benny,” Rory softly amended with a pout when he was satisfied with his inspection. Something tender filled Benny’s chest, easy and comforting. It made him want to pull Rory back into a hug even if it meant broken ribs. It made him feel like he was safe. It made him feel like his smile would last forever.

“Yeah, uh, no problem,” he replied, trying to not let his giddiness show.

And, just like that, the moment was over. Rory gave him a big smile and turned back to the door, rapping on its poor creaky wood.

“Ethan, Benny said he’s going to get me pumpkin pasties! He’s my bestest best friend now!” Rory yelled.

A few of the Ravenclaws in the boys’ commons glanced over and frowned at the commotion, sighing when they saw Benny and Rory. They technically weren’t allowed in other houses’ dormitories, but they snuck in so much that no one cared to confront them anymore. Benny smiled weakly and half-heartedly waved.

“Not my fault I’m the only one with any chance with a girl!” Ethan yelled back, then paused, “Sorry! I’m just freaking out. Do you think Sarah would prefer a more floral or woodsy cologne? I was thinking about an earthy scent but that might be overwhelming for her vampire senses. Do you think Jesse wears expensive cologne? He probably does. Hey, Benny, do you have any more of that pheromone stuff?”

//

By the time they reached the Great Hall, most of the students were finishing breakfast. As soon as the doors opened, Rory was rushing to the Gryffindor table, oblivious to all of the students he knocked over to get there. Benny winced.

Ethan was still frozen in the entrance, staring at Sarah not-so-subtly. Benny nudged him and waved a hand in front of his flushed face. He was fairly sure that Ethan had pencilled in his eyebrows.

“Hello, earth to E,” he joked. Ethan blanched and frantically turned to Benny, eyes wide.

“Oh Merlin, I should have gone with the floral cologne!”

“Yeah, guess you’ve ruined your chance forever,” Benny dryly responded before laughing at Ethan’s petrified expression, “I’m kidding. Go get ‘em, tiger.” He winked and pushed Ethan toward the Ravenclaw table. He would go with him, as a wingman, but he’d rather not leave food-crazed Rory alone with the first-years.

  So as much as he wanted to valiantly shield Rory from all of the nasty looks and middle fingers being thrown his direction, he knew that Rory didn’t want conflict. He wanted comfort.

  As soon as Benny turned his attention back to the young vampire, he sighed. Rory was plucking all of the pasties from the table– even the ones on plates– and curling around them protectively. He had garnered more than a few glares from the rest of the house members. Rory spotted Benny and waved giddily, his mouth full and spirits high. Benny always admired him for that: he never seemed to care what strangers thought about him. He would wear the most outlandish clothes and talk about the most obscure things and just… deflected any mockery that came his way. At first, Benny had thought he was just oblivious to the sniggering and badgering, but when he tried to confront the bullies, Rory stopped him and told him that it didn’t matter. No one else’s opinion mattered– only his friends’.

  Benny walked over to the table and sat next to him, giving him a warm smile.

“You know, it’s not very swagalicious to steal food,” Benny chuckled, bumping shoulders with Rory as he sat down. Rory gasped, quickly swallowing his food.

  “R-Dawg has more swag than you’ll ever know,” Rory adamantly defended, scowling, “R-Dawg invented swag. Check it!”  He then began making various noises and swinging his hands in what Benny assumed to be beatboxing. This earned him even more glares.

  Benny rolled his eyes and started piling his plate up with food: cinnamon-buttered toast, black pudding, bacon, and a large heaping of sugar donuts. He was quite famished from his late-night DND campaign (and his subsequent adventure of sneaking Ethan back into the Ravenclaw dorms afterward).

  “We need to bring the Muse-A-Tronics back!” Rory whisper-yelled to him, eyes sparkling.

  “And lose the tiny bit of dignity I have left?” Benny whisper-yelled back.

  “Maybe it would make Erica finally notice you,” Rory quipped, looking back down at his plate in something akin to nervosity.

  “It would make all the primo babes notice me,” Benny boasted, puffing out his chest dramatically. Truthfully, he valued Erica more as a friend (and was pretty sure she wasn’t into men) but he didn’t want to admit it. His friends had teased him about it long enough that it felt wrong to confess– it felt wrong to even acknowledge himself. When he started thinking about romance, he started thinking about Rory, and then he started feeling guilt and– he preferred to not think about it.

  “Girls love that macho piano playing,” Rory affirmed, something pensive in his tone, almost hesitant. He picked at the crust of his toast.

  Benny frowned at his arbitrary dejection and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him in for a quick side-hug. There was a strong need arising in him to console Rory, a mixture of guilt and sympathy. He patted his shoulder and broke apart the contact, feeling foolish for something he didn’t know how to describe.

  “Don’t worry, MC MonsterBat will be a lady-killer for sure,” Benny said.

  “Who are we killing?” Ethan asked, sitting across from Benny and grabbing an orange.

  “Just women,” Benny shrugged, “Speaking of, how’d it go with Sarah?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Ethan facepalmed and shook his head.

  “You don’t want to know,” he groaned.

  “Aw c’mon, I’m great at love advice!”

  “B, last time you tried to hit on a girl, you had your eyebrows singed off,” Ethan deadpanned.

“That fireworks spell was trickier than I thought!”

  “The time before that, you almost drowned.”

  “In my defense, the textbooks make mermaids seem really sweet.”

  Ethan just laughed and started peeling apart his orange. He found Benny’s outlandish flirting style amusing, but he had learned to keep a distance whenever it involved magic.

  Rory had been developing a frown throughout the conversation, glaring at his orange juice. He seemed to suddenly decide something and looked up, tugging on Benny’s shirt.

  “Benny, do you want to try one?” He asked hopefully.

  “One what?” Benny hesitantly responded.

  “A pumpkin pastie! AKA the most delicious thing in the world,” Rory cheerfully coaxed, picking up the biggest one he had and offering it reverently. He was so heartened and upbeat that Benny couldn’t bring himself to tell him no.

  The smile on Rory’s face was infectious, and soon Benny was grinning widely too. Rory could probably ask him to eat an earwax jelly bean and he’d agree to it– just because it was Rory. 

  “Uhh, sure, I’ll try a bite,” he said, not missing how Rory’s face lit up adorably or how he pulled him infinitesimally closer. He gently took the pumpkin pastie from Rory’s hands and bit into it without any hesitance.

  To be fair, he still didn’t like it. It had too many clashing flavors and the nutmeg was overpowering. But, when he saw the blush growing on Rory’s face and the way his eyes crinkled with joy, he found himself taking another bite, and another…

  “Do you like it?” Rory excitedly asked, biting into his own pastie and beaming.

  Benny nodded and finished it off, licking his fingers off (and if Rory’s eyes were caught on his lips, neither of them acknowledged it).

  “Yeah, it’s a very unique flavor,” he said. He didn’t want to lie; he was just stretching the truth.

  “You can admit it, it’s the best food in the world,” Rory stuck out his tongue. Benny just laughed and shook his head.

  “Oh, B, you should try the fruitcake next! You always refuse even though it’s my favorite,” Ethan interjected, glancing around the table and grabbing a slice to hold out.

  “No offense, but that is probably the nastiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’d rather face Moldy Voldy than dried figs and prunes trying to disguise themselves as a cake.” Benny fake gagged and scrunched his nose up. He had a rich sweet tooth and could say for certain that fruitcake was not included in that. It barely even counted as sweet.

  “But you just ate the pumpki– Oh. Oh, of course,” Ethan grinned and flickered his eyes between Benny and Rory, “I’m bloody dumb.”

  Rory quizzically looked up from his food and managed a “Hmhuh?” through a full mouth. Benny raised his eyebrows. He usually shared a brain cell with Ethan and could tell what the other was thinking, but he had no clue what was making Ethan laugh so much. He had long since made his hatred for dried fruit known.

  Ethan shook his head and smiled at both of them.

  “Nothing to be worried about. Did you guys want to head to the Quidditch field later?”

  //

  The next Saturday, Benny was the first one up.

“Rory, get up! It’s breakfast time!” He yelled, untangling himself from his sheets.

From the bed over, Rory groaned and hid his face in his pillow. He had spent the entire night getting “food” in the Forbidden Forest. Benny didn’t want to know any more than that.

There was an odd spike of excitement running through him; he just knew that he had to get to the Great Hall as soon as possible. He’d been looking forward to it the entire week, constantly thinking about the darned pumpkin pasties. Whenever he mentioned it, Ethan just gave him a wink.

“If you get up now, I’ll eat another pastie with you,” Benny added.

At that, Rory was standing up, fully awake.

“Really? You’d do that?”

Benny laughed and shrugged.

“Anything for you,” he said, immediately regretting it. That wasn’t a very bro-like thing to say. Rory didn’t seem to mind, though, brightly smiling at Benny and moving to get his robes out.

Benny opened his trunk as well, absentmindedly picking out his finest robes. It seemed like it was going to be a great morning.

//

The warm feeling in Benny’s chest didn’t dissipate. Truly, he knew what was causing it, but he wasn’t ready to face it yet; he wasn’t ready to face him. He felt like it could end any minute, and he couldn’t risk that.

He was a bit relieved when Ethan said he had to study for his midterms rather than go on the Hogsmeade trip. He didn’t want to leave his best friend alone on the weekend, but the prospect of going out with Rory was too exciting.

Hogwarts had just had its first snow, thinly carpeting the winter grass and stone paths in a soft reminder that winter was near. Hogsmeade was decorated in shiny red ribbons and glimmering icicles, sprinklings of mistletoe hanging from every signpost. The restaurants were particularly busy, drawing in onlookers with their warm stews and hot chocolates filling the chilly air with hearty aromas.

They had, as tradition, stopped by Honeydukes first to satisfy their cravings. Benny was sure to grab enough peppermint creams and sugar quills for Christmas; when in doubt, candy was the best gift option. Who would turn down Honeydukes?

They eventually ended up in the Three Broomsticks, properly cold and yearning for fish and chips. Benny had jumped right into his butterbeer, not caring at all how the froth gave him a mustache.

“I’ve died, I’ve died and reached heaven,” Benny bewailed, clinging onto his mug like it was the most precious thing in the world. Which it was.

Rory had the audacity to look offended. He had barely touched his drink, uncharacteristically distraught.

“You can’t die yet, dude, we haven’t beaten the Feudal Wars IV boss yet.”

Benny considered that for a second and then nodded approvingly.

“You’re right, yeah, I guess I have to hold on until then.”

“Can’t leave the Rorster hanging!”

“Of course not,” Benny chuckled, “You’d never be able to finish that round on your own.”

Rory flicked one of his chips at him, pouting. Benny sighed and gave him back a chip to equalize the transaction, squeezing Rory’s hand briefly as an apology.

“You have to admit though, I’m a god at the Feudal Wars series. I think I’m ranked twenty in the nation. Which, to be fair, there are only about a hundred players in Great Britain, but rankings in a multiplayer RPG are skewed anyway. I can’t wait until I’m back home so I can get back to–

“Benny.”

“What’s up?” He replied, taking a swig of his butterbeer and silently pretending that it was real alcohol to feel cooler. Rory hesitated and drummed his fingers on the wooden table.

“I… I know you don’t like pumpkin pasties.”

Benny froze, nearly choking on his drink.

“Dude, what? We’ve been eating them together every week,” he weakly rebutted. Rory rolled his eyes and smiled.

“I’m not a complete idiot,” Rory laughed, “I know you’ve hated them since first year.”

“But you–”

“I wanted to see if you would. Try one for me,” Rory said, leaning forward and resting his head on his palms. His fangs were ever-so-subtly peeking out.

“Oh.”6

Godric Gryffindor, he must have not been as smooth as he thought. What would Rory think of him now, lying about something so simple as a pastry? Normal friends don’t do that.

Benny lifted his head, mouth agape and ready to rush out an excuse, but– he was met with a blushing, embarrassed Rory. Who didn’t seem upset in the slightest.

“It’s cute,” he promised, reaching out for Benny’s hand and rubbing small circles on the back.

“I just– I didn’t want to make you sad, I’m sorry–” Benny stuttered, feeling exposed.

“Don’t apologize, B,” Rory insisted, “You know, to make it even, I’ll eat fruitcake for you.”

Benny furrowed his brows. It sounded almost like a confession– a reciprocation. Maybe they had both been hiding their attachment. Merlin, Ethan had probably stayed back at Hogwarts to make this happen. Well, not that Benny was complaining.

He squeezed Rory’s hand and smiled.

“That’s a bet.”

“Okay, tomorrow morning! I’ll prove it!” Rory asserted, biting his lip, “R-Money will prove his heart’s desire!”

“Moment ruined,” Benny teased fondly.

“Oh, do you prefer R-Dawg? Rorster? Ror-inator? R-Money? Batman? Ror–”

Benny pressed his thumb gently on his lips to quiet him.

“I just like Rory.”

//

By the time they left, the snow was sticking to the ground and the sun was peeking out. If they squinted, they could see Ethan cheering them on from his dorm window with two thumbs up. Damn seer abilities.

With Rory’s hand in his, cheeks red from more than just the cold, Benny took a moment to reconsider. Maybe he had liked the pumpkin pasties all along. He just hadn’t been able to appreciate their ambivalence– he hadn’t realized that if he had just let the flavors meld together, there didn’t need to be a schism.

He turned to Rory, giving him a chaste kiss on the forehead and running through the snow.

“Last one to the castle has to help Ethan get ready for his date tomorrow!”

[michellejgaskill]

10 Ways to Better Understand Your Husband

I’m sure you are aware of the ways you and your husband differ in your background and personalities. You may also have different ideas about how to spend your evenings, what kinds of movies you each prefer to watch, and what your ideas of an adventurous weekend would look like. But when you add to the mix their uniquely male qualities, it surely could be a case for your girlfriends that your husband is from a different world than you are.

1. Remember he's a man.

This should go without saying. Yet, I’m amazed at how many women expect their husbands to be just like their girlfriends and talk about everything, listen intently, and “go deep” with their feelings. Men are not wired for “chick chat” and the biggest mistake wives make is interpreting this to mean their husbands don’t care. Well, they don’t. But that doesn’t mean they don’t care about you.

You can understand your man better when you realize he approaches life differently, tending to focus more on the detail of fact, while you tend to focus more on feelings. While you tend to ask for help, advice and directions, he often will not. When you offer sympathy, he offers advice and analysis, and while you desire to understand problems, he is driven to solve them. Instead of thinking If only he’d be more sensitive, or If only he’d be more interested in what I l like, try changing your perspective to I appreciate the way he brings balance to our marriage

2. Realize his need for respect.

Countless studies have affirmed that a man would rather feel respected than loved. While women long to be cherished, loved, and pursued, there’s a sense in which a man can live without love. It’s respect he can’t live without.

It’s interesting to note that in the Bible, husbands are commanded to love their wives. And wives are commanded to respect their husbands (Ephesians 5:22-33). Have you ever thought about why a woman isn’t commanded to love her husband in return? We are commanded throughout the Bible to love one another, and that includes our husbands. But when it comes to this passage, which speaks specifically about the marriage relationship, God apparently knew a woman desires more than anything else to be loved and a man desires more than anything else to be respected. God must have known that as we respect our husbands, we are demonstrating love to them in a way they can more easily see and appreciate.

3. Recognize his need to succeed.

Your husband is wired to be competitive, and therefore winning, succeeding and advancing are extremely important to him. If your husband feels he is in a no-win situation or is failing at something, it will show in his attitude of feeling stuck or wanting to give up. If your husband isn’t succeeding at something, he at least needs to feel like he’s winning. Let him know he is succeeding in the areas that are most important to him and to you. And if what is important to you isn’t necessarily important to him, let him know every now and then how well he is doing in that area, and it just may become an important area to him after all.

Many a man will give up altogether and go passive when it comes to parenting if you are insisting your parental skills are better. A man may stop communicating if his wife lets him know he is a failure at communication. To the contrary, if you are praising his efforts—even if at this point they are just efforts—he will likely want to continue to please you. Treat him like a winner at home, and he’ll want to be there more often. Praise him for his handiwork around the house, and you’ll find him offering to be your handyman. Encourage him and tell him how good he makes you feel in the bedroom, and he’ll be more likely to initiate intimacy. Encouragement goes a long way. And making your husband feel like a winner will make him want to be around you— especially if you’re his No. 1 fan.

4. Allow him time in his "blank

Sometimes it’s difficult for us to understand how our husbands can sit on the couch with the TV on, not particularly watching it, and not hear a word we say, nor be capable of responding. I call that my husband’s “veg box.” Some wives call it their husbands’ “blank box.” And when you ask him “What’s on your mind?” or “What are you thinking?” and he stares off into space and says “nothing”—it really is true; he’s in a “no words, no feelings” box.

Women, on the other hand, constantly have thoughts swirling around in their heads. We are continually connecting events of yesterday to situations today and drawing conclusions. Our husbands appear clueless at what we’re doing, because they are. They don’t understand how we think and we don’t understand how they can be thinking of nothing. Allow your husband to spend time in his blank box doing nothing and thinking about nothing. It’s his way of decompressing so he can come back and re-engage with his wife and family again.

5. Ask him about his dreams.

Proverbs 20:5 says “The purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out.” You can better understand your husband when you can draw out of him his dreams and desires. When your husband has unmet dreams, it might affect how he is processing life or whether or not he is enjoying it. Whereas you and I might conclude he has a bad attitude, he may be dealing with feelings of missing out because he isn’t living from his heart.

Ask your husband what he’d love to do if time or money were no object. Give him permission to dream and don’t discount his ideas if they don’t sound practical or realistic. You can understand what makes him tick, what he secretly longs for, and even how you can share in making some of his dreams come true when you take the time to ask, learn and discover the dreams on your husband’s heart.

6. Treat him like a king, but not your God.+

There’s a difference between treating your husband with the respect and loyalty you would give a king, and depending on him like he’s your God. Many women marry with high expectations, only to be gravely disappointed shortly thereafter when they discover their husband can’t possibly meet all of their emotional needs.

Because your husband is a man, he will never be able to meet your needs for sensitivity and understanding like another woman. Because he’s not your dad, he can’t make up for what you might feel was lacking in a father-daughter relationship. And most important, because he’s not God, he can’t possibly fulfill you in every way. Instead of looking to your husband to be God in your life and fill your every need, look to God as your spiritual husband (Isaiah 54:5). There is nothing that will free up your husband to love you more than taking your emotional expectations off of him and leaving them with God. Your husband can then love you in the best way he is able, without feeling he has an impossible task in front of him. (For practical ways to live this out, see my book, Letting God Meet Your Emotional Needs).

7. Acknowledge his singular focus.

Unlike women who appear to multi-task, men function better with a singular focus and they have a way of compartmentalizing their thoughts and actions. Like his ancient ancestors, your husband is, by nature, a hunter-gatherer, so it’s easy for him to zero in on—and stay focused on—a single topic (Picture a cat sitting by a window watching a bird – he doesn’t move, but is totally fixated).

As you are sensitive to this single-focus characteristic of his, it may help you understand his response—or lack of response—to you when you go from topic to topic in your conversation or are tending to “merge” the areas of your life when he prefers to keep them separate. For example, talking about finances just prior to intimacy will confuse him. If he’s in “finance mode,” he will not know how to transition well to “romance mode.” Likewise, if you are talking about the kids’ schooling problems or your aging parents’ needs while he’s trying to set up the tent on a camping trip, he will likely not respond to your words, let alone hear them.

8. Allow him sexual pleasure with his wife.

Men are designed, physically and physiologically, to enjoy sexual pleasure with their wives. Your husband wants to enjoy that activity and experience with YOU. And you are the only one he can enjoy that with and still be right and pure before his God. And he knows that, even more than you do.

In Ecclesiastes 9:9, Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, said this: “Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given to you under the sun—all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun.”

King Solomon wrote a whole book on the meaninglessness of life. And among the few things he found meaningful for a man to enjoy were a good meal and pleasure with his wife. Now think about that! When you prepare a meal for your husband, isn’t it your desire that he enjoy it? Similarly, will you prepare yourself for him, physically, as his reward after dinner? God paid you quite a compliment when He gave you to your husband as your husband’s reward. God considered you a great prize to bring pleasure—in many ways—to your husband.   That should make you and I want to be our husband’s reward, not his consolation prize.

9. Accept his love for good food.

Do you ever find yourself wondering why your husband constantly thinks about food? Or how it is he can down a whole steak in minutes when all you feel like eating is a salad? Your husband, if he’s like most men, loves to eat. He’ll prefer a meaty meal to your low-calorie morsel every time! And get thisenjoying food is biblical! In Ecclesiastes 2:24, the wise King Solomon says, “There is nothing better for a man than to eat and drink and tell himself that his labor is good. This also I have seen that it is from the hand of God.”

For a man to be able to sit down and enjoy dinner—or a hearty, messy barbecue lunch—is one of the ways God rewards him for his work here on earth. So let him eat. And don’t knock him when he does. It’s one of the simple pleasures in life he was designed to enjoy.

10. Be patient as his priorities shift with age.

Your husband typically values different things at different seasons of life. In his 20s and 30s, he may prioritize making money and advancing his career because he is in his prime “provider/achiever” mode. When he approaches his 40s and 50s, he may be more concerned about making his life count and not “wasting time” doing something that doesn’t matter in the long run. When he reaches his 60s, he may value slowing down to enjoy life or attempt ambitions or “bucket list” items now that he has more time.

Keep in mind, though, that even when his priorities shift with age, he’s still the same man you fell in love with and married. His priorities just change through the years, as do yours.

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This desire is half emotional need and half biological drive, and it is rarely satisfied in life or love.

Once a woman knows how to satisfy this "secret obsession’ she will become a man’s highest priority for life. This program is already getting incredible results for women in all walks of life across the world. But we need your help to get the word out about it! (And we'll make it very worth your while :) ) Click here

[kkaeyva]

Hi! I was wondering if I could have a romantic matchup..?

Call me Storian, she/they, INFP-A, bisexual leaning on males, cancer sun Leo moon Sagittarius rising.

My hobbies and interests are reading, writing, drawing, listening to music, dancing, singing, and basically anything creative. I like creativity and stories. I also like the smell of books, one could see me inhaling the smell of books, I also have a fondness for aesthetics and poems. I've always been fond of animals, however I can't have an animal companion since I have a.. Rather strict home. I also like fairy tale stories (one could find me favoring the villain more than the knights and princesses.)

My dislikes are.... Too much noise, too much screaming. I value my peace, silence, so I'm not fond of too much noise. At all, I can only handle so much. I also don't like it when people raise their voice with a hostile tone in their voices, it stresses me out. Please don't peer pressure me as well. I dislike peer pressure. I value friendship, however I also believe we have our own paths and interests as individuals. I dislike people who cross boundaries, although I do my best to be understanding. I also like to be open-minded, to look into situations in different angles before making my solutions.

I'm a timid and distant person towards almost everyone except those whom I feel like I have a mutual connection with. Usually polite. But with people whom I consider my mutual friends, I'm brighter. I can joke around with them, tease and pull little pranks. But if you're close to me, my best friend or my lover, expect for me to be so comfortable that I'd show you my caring and doting side. I'm the shoulder to cry and lean on, the ear that would listen to your venting, the one who can offer advices and console you and even if I not find of other people clinging to me, I can provide hugs of comfort.

I mentioned that I don't like other people clinging to me before, and I do. However, it's another case around people whom I hold very close to my heart. I consider touch as an intimate form of affection. It's how I show my love for the people I care for, other than words of affirmation.

Is this enough? Congratulations to your 100 followers milestone! Feel free to ignore this if your slot is full now.

thank you for participating in the event! <3

i match you up with...

albedo!

— albedo admires your creativity! i feel like he’d invite you to go on walks around dragonspine just to sketch the scenery (let’s be honest, though, it’s all just ice and snow;;;) — his campsite doesn’t have many books, there are only a few that are most likely just research material and worn-out from years of use. however, please note that a relationship with albedo grants you a free friendship with sucrose as well! — sucrose would bring you to the library often, asking for help to find certain books about different topics she’s researching, which is a win-win for the both of you, am i right? — albedo is always calm, he’s able to control his emotions so that they don’t negatively affect his work or social life. his tone of voice will be neutral, he won’t pressure you to do anything, nor will he cross any boundaries you set! he’s the definition of ‘respectful’ in my opinion. — albedo is not the type to need a source of comfort, since he’s always so invested in his work,,, i can see you and albedo being the “parent” couple, if that makes sense? it’s a very cute relationship dynamic— many people would think of you as the couple that would take you in if you’re having a hard time and lend support :) — i think of albedo as more of the quality time type of person, but he has never outwardly stated that he dislikes people (specifically, loved ones) touching him so he’d appreciate some physical touch and/or words of affirmation from his s/o now and then. <3 — runner-up: fischl

[promisedyouforever]

bittersweet

TenxRose & TentooxRose

Rated very, very slightly T.

~1050 words.

Holy Bananas, I wrote something!  Angst and.. well, bittersweetness, I suppose. Not all gloom, I promise.

Read on Ao3 | Teaspoon

-------------------

    He peeled dripping pinstripes from his shoulders and hunched wearily over the console for a bleak moment before slumping into the jump seat. Exhausted, he let his head loll back, jaw slack and eyes drooping and wet hair sticking to his forehead.

The Tardis felt vast and empty, and even the ship herself was hushed, her presence in his mind only a distant subdued whisper. The solitude felt like nothing so much as the open pit of a waiting grave.

He grieved for Donna, his brilliant friend whose world had just become so much smaller. At least he could take some tiny comfort that she’d never know what she lost.

He, on the other hand… he always remembered everything.

Centuries of everything and who knew how many more to come and what exactly was the point of it all when he was the last, the only, set apart and sometimes rightly vilified or wrongly deified and always so, so alone?

Was it really only a few short hours ago he’d felt so – so full? His words to Wilf rang hollow in his head: They’ve all got someone else.

And they did. All of them did.

Even she did now.

Rose.

Always Rose.

He needed to believe he’d done the right thing even as remorse stung him. He’d pushed her away, manipulated her, lied to her. It wouldn’t take her long to realise it, that his other self wasn’t dangerous at all. He’d never have left her with –

left her.

Home flashed a sunrise smile over a dark hilltop and came back to him like the first new leaf after unending snow.

And like the unexpected storm that kills the bud, he left her.

Abrupt reality slashed him deep and bled into his bones, settling sorrowful there as he buried his face in his hands.

It was the right thing, had to have been the right thing, because wasn’t that always the one that hurt the most?

He loved her and he’d left her, left her with himself and what an odd thing to burn with so much envy for his own reflection.

Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.

This from the same man who blathered on about how it was better to have loved and lost. What did Tennyson know anyway?

Unexpectedly, he felt the Tardis give him a gentle mental push.

Oh.

Oh, he was being a spiteful old man in this grand moment of self-pity. Alf had known enough of grief, more than enough to write the damned thing.

Right. Time to stop wallowing.

It would have to be enough, just the barest shadow of enough, to know that she was happy. To know that in one universe, at least, they were the Doctor and Rose, together. As it should be.

Chasing solace, he felt his mind begin to wander in slow steps down that well-worn what-if path of daydreams, lingering fondly at each glimpse of life, that one adventure he could never have.

He saw doors and carpets and windows with curtains. A house.

A proper house, Rose.

The first day it was theirs, they stripped its white walls bare – “No more white walls,” she declared. “Never again.” So that very first day, that very first thing, the two of them painted everything anew with gleeful abandon. They painted murals in every room, weaving the story of their own forever into the very foundation of their home.

She rolled her eyes at his insistence on the Rosette nebula shining from the ceiling of the master bedroom; he laughed as she painted the front door Tardis blue and carefully lettered “PULL TO OPEN” above the doorknob.

Furniture yet to be delivered, they made love on the tarp-draped floor amidst paint cans and brushes and awoke the next morning stiff and naked and joyful and covered in colour.

She stayed at Torchwood and he reluctantly joined her, but they did little field work now that they had each other. He found himself continually in awe of her as he learned her anew, the woman she’d become in their time apart.

They tended a garden together that summer, taking root and flourishing where they were even as they tended their child Tardis in the back yard shed, this sentient being who would take them back to the stars and erase the barriers of time and space.

The day of her first flight came shockingly soon, less than a year after Bad Wolf Bay thanks to Donna’s advice. She bubbled over, filling their minds with teenage excitement as the three of them rocketed away from the Earth. Only a short test run, they orbited for a time before returning home, but it felt so right to be there gazing at the planet from above through open doors with his arms around Rose and his chin on her shoulder.

Children.

Beautiful children with wild brown hair and her nose and stars in their eyes. James Peter came first, and the first time she called him Jack, the Doctor feigned outrage just to hear her laugh.

Their family was the Stuff of Legend. Happy.

As it should be.

He started awake on the jump seat.

Feeling lighter and heavier at the same time, he stood and stretched. Realising he’d slept long enough for his clothes to dry, he cast a suspicious glance at he time rotor. Her comforting presence hummed in affirmation.

Right, then.

It was time.

A few moments later, he stood in front of a door he’d not let himself consider for a long time, piece of paper clutched in hand. He didn’t want to go in, but he had to leave it. It belonged there.

He didn’t, couldn’t linger. He placed the note on her vanity, amidst a sea of her, and left swiftly, stone-faced, without looking back.

Gently, the Tardis shifted Rose Tyler’s room into storage carrying the message she would never read.

Rose.

It isn’t enough, but it has to be.

I would have said it.

I love you. I have loved you, do love you, will love you until it all ends and the stars burn out and everything dies for good. Even me.

Longer, even.

I think perhaps forever.

 Oh, she knows.