I really want a fandom internet friend. So we can fangirl together, facetime and talk about our problems. I want to talk to a person from a different counrty so I can learn about them. I want to feel like I should just get to a plain and see them.
1) My family doesn’t know I live here.
2) I can scream about fictional should-be gay couples in peace.
3) I can be a fuck up with the confidence that none of you will ever actually see me in the real world.
4) My Fandoms live on here
5)it’s like Facebook and Twitter had a baby but then the baby signed up for Tumblr and never leaves it’s room.
6) I can sit on here for hours and look up and a whole day has gone by its like time travel.
8) Fan art.
9) I can just put random stuff right here because I ran out of stuff I like at 8 but that’s all I need so it’s ok.
10) I just really wanted this list to go to ten for some weird reason so here we are.
A/N: the only thing I could think of was mac and cheese lol
You and Thomas were sitting in the living room, watching a television show about cooking. His arms was wrapped around your shoulder, and he held you close. Once you told him you had to go to the bathroom, he groaned, reluctantly letting you go. You laughed at his antics, walking to the bathroom. Once you were out, you noticed the chair empty.
“Thomas?” You called, glancing around the apartment, he appeared, carrying boxes of shells for pasta. You watched him, confused. He grinned, putting the (you counted 8) on the island, his hands on his hips.
“Ready for dinner?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Uh, I though we said that we were going to get takeout?”
“Well, that tv show we were watching made me want to cook my famous mac and cheese. You like that, don’t you?” Your stomach growled, and not in a good way.
Thomas’s cheese was very famous, but not in the way you would want. Everyone in your friend group hated it, for some reason it just didn’t taste all that great. At the end of the night, everyone would be in a line to the bathroom. Hamilton told him about how terrible it was, but Thomas ignored him, saying that he was just trying to upset him.
When you met him, he made dinner for you. To your surprise, it was just his mac and cheese. It was a first date, so you told him it was great. He hasn’t made it for you since, and you haven’t thought of it ever again. Not until now.
“Are you sure, Tom? I already have the place on speed dial.” He waved his hand, grabbing a pot out of the cabinet. You panicked.
“No worries, my love. It’ll be ready in no time.”
“I don’t want you to cook, you have a meeting tomorrow with the other lawyers, and being tired won’t help you at all. Remember what happened last time with Madison?” He chuckled, placing the pot on the stove to boil.
“That was one time, and Madison gave me some caffeine to wake me up.”
“But, still…” You mumbled, trailing off. You couldn’t come up with anymore excuses.
He stopped what he was doing, and looked at you suspiciously. You gave him a sly smile, looking away from his face. He turned down the flame on the stove, crossing his arms across his chest.
“You don’t like my macaroni,” he stated, peering down at you. You rubbed the back of your neck.
“Well…” he gasped, putting his hand against his chest. You held in your laugh at his actions, biting your lip.
“You said you liked it! Why would you tell me you liked it?”
“Hey, in my defense, I didn’t even know you that well, so I wanted to compliment you! Is that wrong?” he frowned.
“But you lied.” He replied, turning off the stove. You walked over to him, trying to give him a hug. He marched away, avoiding your outstretched arms. “I tried so hard on the cheese. There were at least four in it…” he grumbled.
“Come on, Tommy, don’t be like that.” You groaned, following him around the counter. He continued walking around, and you picked up your pace. He did the same, changing directions as quickly as you did. After you grew tired of this cat and mouse game, you leaped over the island, bumping into him.
“Hey!” He yelped, shocked that you pulled that move. Your arms were around his torso, and you pushed your face into his chest, smelling his cologne.
“I’m so sorry for lying to you. Next time I’ll make sure to tell you when I don’t like something, okay?” He rolled his eyes, tilting your head up so your eyes met his. He pecked your lips quickly, smirking.
“Fine. But under one condition.” You nodded. “What do you not like about the mac?”