When you’re really sick, you have a tendency to cry or whimper in your sleep. You’ve been doing this for as long as you can remember. It used to freak your parents out because you’d be asleep and they couldn’t help you without waking you up, and then the same thing happened with your roommates once you started attending Uni. While it is happening, you are vaguely aware of it, but not fully because you’re actually asleep so you can’t stop it unless you wake yourself up.
“Shhhh,” You hear your boyfriends soft voice cooing in your ear as one of his arms is wrapped around your shoulder holding you securely close to his chest, while his other hand is gently pushing your hair from your tear stained cheeks and wiping the tears from your face. “Shhhh,” He tries to comfort you more as you slowly wake up and realize what is happening. “It’s okay y/n, I got you.” His voice is low and soothing. He knows you were asleep and making all these noises in your sleep, but he’s still trying to comfort you because he doesn’t know what else to do.
Your eyes open, and it feels like your headache gets even worse if that’s even possible. You move slightly and he looks down at you to see that your eyes are open, he exhales audibly, “Oh thank God you’re awake. I don’t know how much more of that I could take” he says honestly. And you know he’s talking about the way that you were crying and whimpering in your sleep.
Don’t tell me what to do, I’m going to do it anyway.
1. We have no idea what’s going on. Like, ever. Not even one time.
2. We’re damn good at making you think that we know what’s going on, and that it was our plan all along.
3. We’re so frickin loyal it’s not even funny. We play it off like we don’t care about anyone, but we would legit do absolutely ANYTHING for those we care about.
4. If we’re trying to be extra funny, you know something’s up. We’re most likely covering up our emotions with a good ole unhealthy dose of sarcasm and depreciating humor.
5. Our secrets have secrets. We may seem like open books, but believe me. There’s sooo much more going on under the surface.
6. We absolutely need time for ourselves to think. We’re the kind of extroverts that you may have to drag to a party, but we’ll be the life of the party when we get there.
7. We. Need. Attention. For everything we do. Even though we give off this sort of “I don’t care what you think” vibe, we need constant validation, even just someone saying “oh cool”. We thrive to impress people, no matter how hard to believe that is.
8. We feel stress just the same as any other type. We just choose to bury it deep deep down where no one can see it, and let it blow up in our faces later.
9. I didn’t talk enough about validation. We have this hunger to do something and to be someone. We need to make a difference, somehow, somewhere.
10. We hate it when people have us figured out. We hate it even more when people only think that they have us figured out, but they’ve got us all wrong.
11. We hate to be ignored. Like, seriously. If we ask you for something, which is something we very rarely do, we expect you to take the time to listen to us.
12. We are the most caring assholes you’ll ever meet. We love to make people happy, but we’ll grumble about it the whole time.
13. We hate being overestimated. Underestimate us, please. We get strength from being the underdog. If we feel like you’re putting too much on us, we’ll just give up because we don’t see that it’s worth it to fail.
14. Challenge us. For the love of God, give us something to argue about. Complacency is a danger to us ENTPs, and it can lead us to very bad habits. We need someone or something that’ll spark our interest, or we’ll go insane.
15. We’re really full of mushy gushy stuff on the inside. No one’s supposed to know that.
16. We feel overwhelmed a lot, and when we do, you need to give us space to sort things out. Like, two minutes. Please.
17. We lie. Constantly. About everything. Watch your back.
18. We deserve respect. With everything that we do for the people around us, we deserve at least a little bit.
Ok, rant over. Sorry for exposing us for what we really are. Ciao
and I can’t stop drawing and i won’t stop drawing
and i won’t stop drawing
and i won’t stop drawing
and i won’t stop drawing
and i won’t stop drawing
and i won’t stop drawing
and i won’t stop drawing
Have you ever felt that if BTS and ARMY is just one person, it will be legit couple goals because BTS is the boyfriend that would do anything for their ARMY and ARMYs are just completely smitten by BTS that they have so many reasons but can’t explain why they are in love with BTS…
To be honest, I feel like this is the whole fandom and I can’t help but feel so fluttered.
Will lingered in the hallway, watching the firelight lick over Hannibal’s arms, his face, the book in his hands. He made no motion, did not go to him and sit beside him on the sofa. He stood, breath held tight, wrestling with himself. He wanted to go sit there, but-
“Will,” Hannibal’s eyes looked up, then flicked towards him, turning his head to find him in the doorway, “come, sit down.”
And he’d been trying so hard to avoid detection, standing down wind and everything. Still, Hannibal had invited him, no point resisting now. He stepped forward gingerly, making his way consciously into the room. Here came the tricky part.
There were many seats to choose from, a sturdy rocking chair, a winged arm chair with its own ottoman, and the sofa, of course. Without looking too deliberate, too tense, without warning Hannibal, he hoped, he measured his steps and sat down next to Hannibal. He sighed with the cushions, making himself lean back in the posture of relaxation and stared into the heart of the fire, unblinking. He felt Hannibal start, pause, felt his eyes skip over the page, onto him, then back, afraid of being noticed for his watching.
“What’re you reading?” Will asked when he was sure Hannibal had read the page fifty times but not taken in a word of it.
Hannibal’s fingers hesitated over the page, trying to read for him. “The
Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám,” he let the pages fall open towards Will, “In translation, unfortunately. I plan to learn Persian to read it properly.”
“All that for a book of poetry?” Will mused, tilting his head back.
“It is beautiful,” Hannibal explained, “and deserves to be understood in its native tongue.”
Will nodded thoughtfully, “Well, that’s one project for the future.” He winced; they hadn’t discussed the future yet. At all.
“Yes…” Hannibal hesitated, feeling the elephant in the room, “if I find myself with enough time on my hands to-” He silenced abruptly as Will’s arm came down around his shoulders.
Will gulped, feeling like a high schooler on his first date, all stilted movements and anxious energy. Keep calm, relax; it wasn’t as though they weren’t both mature adults who had done this a million times before with other consenting adults. There should be no problem, no awkwardness, and yet… his heart beat in his throat like a bird thrashing at its cage.
Cautiously, Will stroked his thumb against Hannibal’s shoulder, almost to remind himself it was there, real and solid. Hannibal jumped, nearly dropping his book, “Will, your arm-” he fumbled, trying to turn to Will without turning in to Will and finding the proximity made this almost impossible. To look him in the eye he’d have to get closer.
“I’m nearly healed,” Will swallowed, his voice sounding high and foreign, “besides I should be stretching it anyway, so I’m not so sore. So the muscles… heal the… the way they’re supposed to.” He tried not to watch Hannibal, curving into him, pressing against him. He tried to focus on the fire as Hannibal gave in to the position Will had put them in with the softest sigh. It couldn’t be done.
Hannibal turned his head to reply and found his cheek brushing against Will’s shoulder. His eyes closed instantly, his lungs involuntarily inhaling. Will felt his bicep tense with nerves, there was a painful yank at the still closing wound, but he gave no sign of pain, transfixed on Hannibal.
“Physical therapy,” Hannibal returned abruptly, lifting his cheek, voice rough and low, “will be the hardest part of the healing process. It will be… lengthy and very painful for some time.” He licked his lips, trying to open his eyes all the way and failing, “You should still be resting.”
“I can sit here.” Will felt his hand come around Hannibal’s shoulder, palm flat against his arm. His body decided before he did that he wanted Hannibal closer.
“Could we… just… come here,” he mumbled, squeezing Hannibal to him with one long pull.
Hannibal’s last restraints broke. Before Will knew it he felt arms wrapped around him and a face pressed into his collar. Stunned, he put both arms around Hannibal and held him. Hannibal fit into him like a warm, heavy blanket, pressing against him everywhere he felt lonely. Though he’d been alone, he’d never felt lonely… until Hannibal. Only made sense that being with Hannibal could soothe that ache, maybe the only thing that might.
Hannibal’s hands skirted the edges of his bandages, wary of pressing too much, of being too much. Yet, he held tight, squirmed half into Will’s lap, as close as he could possibly get. Will could feel his heart beat, a skittering patter in reckless time, and he was sure Hannibal had no idea Will knew about it. The moment reeked of desperation, and yet… his arm curled tighter around Hannibal. And yet he pressed closer and yearned to feel Hannibal melt against him, melt completely.
Hannibal gave, he shuddered, he kept perfectly silent, but he shook like a leaf. Will held him close and never once thought about letting go. Hannibal gave so beautifully, he pushed and melted and succumbed so perfectly in his arms. This… this was nice. It was actually… really nice, holding Hannibal. He hadn’t expected that.
Will let his head fall against Hannibal’s, let himself breathe in his hair, press skin to skin, rest together like this. He listened to Hannibal breathe and slowly their breaths fell together. He lost track of time and was on the point of sleep when Hannibal murmured something in his ear.
“The fire’s all but gone, we should go to bed.”
The words struck a bell and cracked Will’s eyes open. He was still holding onto Hannibal, smushed together in one corner of the couch. “N-No, don’t go,” his voice croaked, groggy. The implications of it didn’t register immediately, too tired to remember to care too little.
Hannibal paused. “I won’t. But wait here, I’ll get some blankets.” His legs hit the floor and he slowly rose, untangling himself from Will’s arms with unfair grace. Will whimpered, freezing where his Hannibal blanket had been. He closed his eyes and curled onto the sofa completely.
Hannibal returned. He knew he returned because he felt warm again, he felt welcome pressure and weight on the sofa, covering him, slipping up beside him and into his waiting arms. Will’s lips lifted, pleased to be embracing Hannibal once again.
“You’ll regret sleeping like this in the morning,” Hannibal muttered into his chest.
“Won’t,” Will grumbled, one hand stroking idly at Hannibal’s back.
“We could sleep on the bed… still together.”
Will heard the request in his pause. His arms tightened, “Too tired. Drag me to bed tomorrow.” And he hunkered down, pulled Hannibal close, and silenced him for the night with a kiss.
I think it's the cutest thing ever that Robert made Aaron, Liv and himself a stable family unit via the marriage. It's just goes to show how they're his entire world and he would legit do anything for them. Especially with Aaron, he was willing to admit to the police his involvement in the Ryan being abused too. People don't cut Rob any slack, that's what sucks so much because he clearly just wants to be happy with Aaron but so many things have tried to push them apart. I'm glad they're together
This is why I don’t understand when people say Robert doesn’t love Aaron or doesn’t deserve Aaron’s love. He was literally willing to throw his life away and go to prison if it meant Aaron would get his justice. He has changed himself and put up with so much because he wants Aaron. He wants a life with Aaron. And with Liv. Other people would’ve walked away because taking on a teenager when you’re just starting a real relationship (his first open one with another man) is hard but he did it FOR Aaron. And yeah, he made a mistake but look at the circumstances. And still he owned up, he took responsibility and the first thing he did was make sure Aaron had someone because he loves him so much. He would do anything for Aaron. They belong together. I love them.