#i just enjoy them having quiet downtime with each other

[photogirl894]

🌼 Wrecker

Daisy 🌼

My second fic for the Clone Flowers fic event! Daisies are such sweet flowers, perfect for sweetheart Wrecker!! 🥰 This one isn't nearly as long as my first one, but I hope you'll all enjoy it nonetheless!! 💜 (divider by @firefly-graphics )

Flower Fic masterlist

You loved when you and Clone Force 99 got to have some downtime and could just spend a little while on any planet you wanted. You especially liked it because it meant you could do more things with Wrecker, the loveable giant that had caught your eye and stolen your heart.

He was brave and courageous while also compassionate and incredibly sweet. He would be the hardest hitter in battle yet have the gentlest touch with you afterwards, which amazed you. It was pretty apparent that the two of you had a thing for each other with your constant flirting, but nothing official had ever been said. Sometimes, it felt as though nothing needed to be said. You both just knew; it felt like a natural thing between the two of you. He was always the one you could turn to for comfort and he would protect you without a second thought. You were always the one he could run to when he needed reassurance and you’d always know just what to say in any situation. 

It was inevitable that you would fall in love with him.

Eventually, your travels with the Bad Batch took you all to Naboo for a bit of shore leave, which made you happy. Naboo was a gorgeous planet and perfect for some alone time with Wrecker. Sure enough, practically the moment the ship landed and the ramp went down, Wrecker was taking you by the hand and pulling you with him out of the ship, running through the grassy fields. The others didn’t try to stop you. They knew better than that. 

After running a ways away, the two of you laughing merrily, Wrecker stopped and suddenly lifted you in the air, spinning you around. Your happy laughter only increased at being raised up in his strong arms and seeing him looking up at you with the most adoring look in his eyes. Then he lowered you down so he could hug you, enfolding his arms around you and you wrapped your arms around his neck in turn. A few seconds later, he just fell straight backwards onto the grass and proceeded to roll down a nearby hill with you still in his arms, the two of you still continuing to laugh and giggle in the most carefree way.

Once you both finally reached the bottom of the hill, you rolled off of him and stated through heavy breath, “Wrecker, did you roll down the hill on purpose?”

“Sure did,” he answered, turning his head to look at you. “I thought it’d be fun.”

“You’re crazy,” you said through a smile.

“I know I am,” he replied. He shifted onto his elbow so he could gaze down at you. “But you spend a lot of time with me, so that must make you crazy, too.”

“You got that right,” you agreed.

When you both sat up, you realized that you had rolled down into a field of wild daisies, so there was a beautiful ocean of white and yellow before you.

“Oh, these are beautiful!” you exclaimed, caressing the daisies beside you with your hands. 

“What are these flowers called again?” Wrecker asked you. “They start with a ‘D’, don’t they?”

With a small chuckle, you answered, “They do. They’re called daisies.”

“Ah, now I remember!” he cried. 

Looking around at all the lovely flowers surrounding you, you stated aloud, “I have to make a flower crown out of these.” You shifted around, leaning your back against Wrecker’s arm, and started collecting the flowers, stems and all, into a small bouquet in your hand. Once you felt you had enough, you started to twist and braid them together so you could make a flower crown. 

It was about a minute later when you heard Wrecker muttering quietly behind you. He was not normally a quiet person, which meant he was deliberately keeping his voice low. What was he doing? You leaned your head back a bit to try and hear what he was saying. 

“...loves me…loves me not….”

Your head tilted curiously. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

Pretending not to notice specifically the words he spoke, you returned to braiding your crown and asked over your shoulder, “What are you doing, Wrecker?”

“Uh….” He hesitated a second before answering, “I’m just playing a little game I’d heard about.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah…where you pick the petals off a flower and, for each one, you say ‘loves me’ or ‘loves me not’ while thinking of…a certain someone…and whichever one you get on the last petal is the truth.”

You smirked to yourself. “I see. And you uh...have a certain person in mind?”

“I do,” he responded. Though, he went back to picking the petals again.

Warmth rose up in your cheeks, wondering if he was thinking about you, especially given his reluctance to give a name. Your hands busied themselves again with your flower crown. You had already made quick work of it and tied the two ends together, admiring your work for a moment while you listened to Wrecker mumbling. The crown was a little shabby, but it would suffice. The daisies were holding together well and you smiled at work.

Just then, you heard Wrecker let out a despondent groan. 

“What's wrong?” you inquired, finally turning around. 

He turned back, too, a disappointed expression on his face. “I got ‘loves me not’...,” he said dejectedly.

It was pitiful and a bit sweet seeing how sad he was over that. You couldn’t help but put a hand over your heart. He seemed genuinely upset by that and believed the result to be the truth, like he’d said. 

“Well…the petals aren’t always right,” you told him, trying to reassure him. 

“They’re not?” he questioned.

“It is just a game. The way you can find out for sure is you can always ask your special person if they love you,” you said.

“I can?” he asked. 

You gave him a nod. 

He looked back down at the petal-less daisy in his hands, fidgeting with the stem. Was it really that easy?

Then his eyes found yours and he went on to ask, “Do you…do you love me?”

A tiny gasp left your lips. He was thinking of you! Wrecker did love you back! You felt as though your heart was going to sprout wings and fly over to him. Even though you were always sure there was something more between you, it just was comforting to hear confirmation out loud.

With a sweet smile, you took the flower crown and proceeded to reach up and place it upon Wrecker’s bald head. He seemed slightly confused at the gesture, but he also didn’t seem to mind it. Then, with a joyful laugh, you finally couldn’t contain your joy and you threw yourself forward at him, your arms coming around his neck and knocking him onto his back with a loud “Oh!” 

You pushed yourself up so you could look into Wrecker’s surprised eyes and you exclaimed, placing your hands on his cheeks, “Yes! I do love you, Wrecker! The flower petals were wrong! I love you so much and I have for a long time now!” Then you placed a firm kiss on his forehead.

A wide, toothy grin spread on his face at your answer and he replied, “What a relief!” His hand then came up to the back of your head and he pulled you down to him, bringing you in for a loving kiss that sent explosions through your whole body. He pulled away a few seconds later and declared, “I love you, too. So very much.” Then he sat up with you on his lap and he pressed his forehead against yours tenderly. “I'm glad that petal game was wrong. If it was right, I don't know what I would do.”

“That's why it's just a game. It's just meant for fun and no need to take it too seriously,” you said, nuzzling his nose.

“Well, I enjoyed kissing you and thought that was much more fun,” he admitted with gladness. 

A giggle of excitement and happiness sounded from you and, in the beautiful field of daisies, you kissed the love of your life once more. 

#cloneflowerficevent #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch wrecker #wrecker x reader

[lizkreates]

Sharing some pocky~

#trigun #trigun maximum #trimax #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash #wolfwood #my art #i was just going to draw wolfwood but then it evolved #goal was SPEED and keeping it loose and sketchy #took a very distracted 3 hours or so #it's been 2mo since I drew a character :'D #still fighting burnout #I drew!! and that was the point #i just enjoy them having quiet downtime with each other #also woowo practice #for next comic

[xxcallmemaryxx]

IV x GN reader

IV with a little bit of separation anxiety... he just can't keep his hands off you...

He was good at keeping it together. At first anyway… when the two of you were still getting used to each other and adjusting to being together. Nights spent with him in your bed unable to keep your hands off each other, that bled into mornings with him wrapped around you as you sort some kind of breakfast out for you both. It was magical and amazing and kept a goofy smile plastered permanently on your lips. 

But there was downtime too. When he went home for a few nights. When you both needed to prioritise work for a little while. When he went away for tour and was out and about exploring the world and making unreal memories for thousands of people every night. Texts and phone calls became your usual and it was fine. You missed each other, of course, but ultimately it was doable. 

Until he changed. 

The time you’d each spend at your own houses without the other became shorter and shorter as the months went on. IV making himself very comfortable within the walls of your home, it was nice to see honestly. Knowing he felt welcomed and relaxed here was a good feeling. But then when it came time for him to go back home, he’d somehow always manage to convince you to pack a bag and stay with him for a few days then too. 

How could you ever say no to him? 

Eventually, if it came time for you to go back home again for whatever reason. He’d try everything he could to convince you to stay longer. Swearing he doesn’t mind and he wants you with him. He enjoys your presence and how warm his bed is every morning that he wakes up with you in it. 

He pouts when he realises he needs to let you leave. But tells you he’ll be seeing you again in a few days time, leaving no room for argument.

You found it endearing honestly. This beautiful man who loves to spend his time with you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered, the temptation to just stay with him everyday was very present. But you’d never get anything done if that was the case. He’s very good at keeping you buried underneath his blankets all day. 

He learnt very quickly ways that he could keep you close. Keep you around for longer. Just one more night, that turned into two more nights, that then turned into him convincing you to just stay for the rest of the week and go back home after the weekend. 

“We didn’t end up finishing that show we started… stay tonight and we’ll finish it.”

Spoiler: you don’t finish it that night either. Which IV made sure of.

“Wait, I wanted to cook that one dish for you… we completely forgot about it. Stay tonight, we can go shopping for the stuff tomorrow and then I’ll make it for dinner for us tomorrow…”

Spoiler: he starts dinner kind of late and oh! Look at the time! You might as well just stay again tonight. 

“Oh you should go home? But it’s Friday… just stay for the weekend and I’ll take you home on Sunday night.”

Spoiler: Sunday night rolls around and guess what…

“You have work in the morning? Well, if you stay tonight I’ll drive you in. You won’t have to wake up as early if I take you…”

Spoiler: guess who opts to pick you up from work that afternoon. And oh look at that… you’re back at his house again that night too. 

He begins to run out of ideas though, he can only “forget” to do so many things with you while you’re staying with him. And the panic sets in when he sees you starting to get your stuff together and he can’t think of anything to get you to stay again. 

He knows he has to deal with it. He can’t force you to stay. He wants you to come back. He wants you to want him to come back to your house, and if giving you time on your own is what you need then he’ll give it to you. 

But when he comes back home to a quiet, empty house… he can’t help the tightness that grows in his chest. He locks up for the night and makes his way to bed. The sheets still a mess, just how the two of you left them earlier that day. And his throat constricts when he crawls back underneath them alone. It’s cold. It’s quiet. It’s dark in there. He grabs the pillow you slept on, hugging it into his chest and curling himself around it. He closes his eyes and pretends it’s you he’s curled around instead. Burying his face into it and breathing in, he can still smell you on it. He huffs and reaches for his phone, already typing out the words ‘I miss you’ before he even double checks who he’s sending it too. And he lays awake all night, long after you’ve said your goodnights, feeling just… off. He feels weird. He’s unsettled and he’s tense and he just can’t rid the pit that’s sat steady in his stomach since he got home. 

It gets worse though.

You notice after a while that he cannot for the life of him keep his hands off you. Constantly holding yours. Constantly holding your hips. Constantly resting on your legs when he pulls them onto his lap. (Which is always, if he’s not already snuggled up behind you on the couch.) You’ve caught him a few times with your hands in his, playing with your fingers, massaging your knuckles, running his fingers over the back of your hand. Or kneading the meat of your thighs between his hands absentmindedly. Not even trying to suggest anything, not trying to get you worked up, but genuinely just content because his hands are on you. 

Do you think you can enter another room on your own? Wrong. You can’t. 

Because IV will follow you through the house, around every room and back again. 

The washing machine is done? You need to go hang out clothes? IV’s hand is in yours and you’re walking to the laundry together.

Oh you’re hungry? Need to start on dinner? IV is snuggled against your back as you get stuff ready the whole time. 

Sitting down to eat dinner together, and you dare sit opposite him? He’s playing footsie with you underneath the table. Which will turn into him grabbing your foot and planting it on his lap so he can keep his hand on your ankle the whole time. 

Is he naturally just a touchy feely person? Yes. Yes he is.

But just the thought alone of having to go days without you around drives him nuts. He can’t do it. He feels sick. He can’t sleep. He can barely eat. He needs your presence to function. 

He ponders the thought of driving to your house, packing all your stuff and moving you into his house more often than he’d be willing to admit. You’re with him enough as it is already. You might as well just stay forever right?

.

.

.

MASSIVE CREDITS TO MY POOKIE @ghostlygothicgay !!!!

He gave me this idea, and then we ran rampant with it in our messages.

if you're an IV whore like me, give him a follow, he's so fun to talk too!!!

#sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token x reader #sleep token iv #iv sleep token #sleep token iv x reader #iv sleep token x reader #Mary's headcannons

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

BTS playing Animal Crossing with you

do not repost my work in any form

Warnings: none! enjoy :)

☆ gender neutral reader

Jin

Jin isn’t interested in playing when you first start. He says it’s not really his kind of game. But pretty soon, he has a copy of his own and is parked next to you on the couch, arguing aloud with Tom Nook, that tyrant. Jin is king of his island, chasing villagers he doesn’t like with nets - maybe they’ll take a hint and leave. Mainly enjoys collecting, trying to finish his museum, and flower breeding.

The places you play the most are in bed and on the couch in Yoongi’s studio. Many nights Yoongi comes home after a long day, crawls into bed alongside you and says he’s going to sleep, but ends up watching you play until his mind is quiet and he drifts off. You often hear him humming the game’s background music as he potters around the house, not even aware that he’s doing it.

Hoseok

Once you introduce Hobi to Animal Crossing, you can’t pull him away for days on end. “But my flowers need watering and I need to check my shops and I have to talk to my favourite neighbours so they don’t think I’m abandoning them!” What about abandoning me, you point out. “We can play together! Just don’t run through my flowers.” He’s dead serious.

Namjoon

Your boyfriend Namjoon comes in very handy when Redd comes around. Who needs to search up a guide on which paintings are real or fake when you have an art enthusiast in the house? He doesn’t mind either, he enjoys the challenge and is proud that you think he’s so smart. He thinks the game is cute and sometimes watches you play when he doesn’t feel like doing anything.

Jimin

Jimin would play only because you do. When he has a lot of downtime the two of you squish together on the bed and play, visiting each other’s islands and taking pictures of your characters doing silly things together, swimming and watching the shooting stars. When he hasn’t played for a while because he is busy, he complains and pouts about the amount of weeds covering his island.

Taehyung

Tae thinks all the ugly villagers are cute. You look up how to get rid of the ones you don’t want on your island, and he is offended. How could you plot the removal of his new best friend Barold? He hates shaking trees because he is constantly being stung by bees. Always asking you for emergency Bells to buy furniture that he wants before it disappears from the store.

Jungkook

Spends more time playing Happy Home than he spends on his own island. He gets so into designing elaborate interiors for his pixel friends - every detail from lighting to ambience, it all has to be just right. Honestly, he’s racked up more hours than you have, and when you’re not playing yourself you’re more than likely watching him and trying not to be jealous of his digital decorating talents.

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts x reader #yoongi imagine #bts Drabble #yoongi x reader #bts oneshot #jin x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #Yoongi fluff #jin fluff #jimin fluff #hoseok fluff #Jungkook fluff #Taehyung fluff #Namjoon fluff #boyfriend!bts #kpop x reader #sfw #bts scenarios

[wanderingelvis]

Honey, I need a part 2 of that Elvis x Innocent Reader ask. Y'all can't leave me hangin like this lordy

I'm so pleased you liked it! It means so much! 🥰! Anyways, here's part 2!

Here’s a link to Part 1 of Elvis x Innocent!Reader for anyone looking! 🧚

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

word count: 2,119

pairing: Elvis x Innocent F!Reader

Things had gotten better for you recently, since you'd opened up to Elvis about the struggles you'd had in your classes, actually. You hadn't exactly made any friends, even though you were desperate to, but the teasing from the other boys and girls on set, had definitely stopped for the most part. Sure, you would see them looking at you, whispering to each other and giggling, clearly saying something about you but they wouldn't confront you anymore, and you were grateful for that.

You wondered if Elvis had spoken to someone, but you didn't want to ask, in case Elvis hadn't and asking him would put him in a difficult situation where he might feel that he should've.

You actually found the Mafia quite scary, they all wore dark clothing, would brandish guns that they had on themselves, and say words that your Momma had forbid you from ever saying. You wondered if Elvis had ordered them to say something, you knew that if any of the Mafia would ever tell you off, you'd probably run and hide under your bed and never come out again. Whenever you were around Elvis, which was a lot these days, you'd often find yourself in the company of the Mafia. Elvis could tell you were scared of them, you'd go quiet, shuffle as close to Elvis as possible and focus on whatever work you were doing, whatever book you were reading or whatever picture you were drawing - trying to make yourself as invisible as possible.

In all honesty, Elvis liked that you were scared of the Mafia, that it pushed you to be more reliant on him. He knew that none of them would dare look at you in a funny way, let alone hurt you, because they knew he was already obsessed with you, even if that fact would just fly right over your head.

But right now, you had some time off from rehearsals and you'd already run straight to Elvis' dressing room. You would always go to him, or his environment whenever you had any spare time, like he'd told you to do and like you liked to do.

Elvis was already there, looking through mockups of different outfits for his next tour. He wanted more jumpsuits, and that's what had been designed, hundreds of them for him to choose from.

You came in quietly, not wanting to disturb him, but you were greeted with that kind, friendly grin as Elvis asked you how your day was going, listening intently as you babbled away, telling him everything from the songs you were performing in rehearsal to how the door handles on the rehearsal door had been painted to white, but you preferred the old light blue color.

"M'sorry, m'talkin' a lot, Momma says that's a bad habit I got," You said softly, after realising how long you'd spoken for. You were just so happy to have a friend, you felt like no one else wanted to talk to you, so when Elvis let you, you'd talk his ear off. You hadn't realised how long you'd been talking for, but Elvis never seemed disinterested, not once. He would watch you intently, studying your face as you talked, nodding along and throwing his head back with laughter and chuckling loudly when you said something that amused him.

"S'okay honey, it ain't a bad habit, I could listen t'ya ramble on all day besides, sounds like you've had a busy day hm?" Elvis said.

You nodded, grabbing your copy of A Little Princess to read during your downtime. It wasn't the most advanced novel, but you were enjoying it. Your education hadn't been the best as a result of your mother prioritising auditions over school, but you could pick things up quickly when given the help, and you'd started reading more and more.

"Can I read in here for a bit, please?" You asked, never wanting to assume.

"Of course, little un', I'm just going through some outfits for the first-leg of the tour." Elvis said.

You got off the couch, sitting on the soft, plush, fluffy carpet, leaning your book on the low coffee table in front of you. Elvis parted his legs, and as time went on, you'd naturally lean back to sit in between them, the both of you in comfortable silence as you enjoyed your book and Elvis scanned through the outfits, every now and then lowering a piece of paper to show you a design he particularly liked, and to get your opinion on it.

After about twenty minutes, you put your book down, chewing a little on your lip, debating whether or not to ask Elvis about the incident that had happened before.

He'd never actually told you what 'give a head' meant, he'd just bushed over it and you felt a bit nervous to ask again. But you were curious, and he had said he would tell you.

"Um..." You piped up, before questioning if you really should ask Elvis. Elvis moved the piece of paper he was looking at to the side, looking down at you and raising one eyebrow, noticing you were looking a little confused and unsure.

You chewed your fingernails anxiously, your mind going back and forth as to whether or not you should bring this up. As you were thinking through your third reason why you should bring it up, you were taken out of your thoughts by a large hand, pulling your little one away from your mouth. You turned to see that Elvis was leaning down, stopping you from chewing on your nails.

"Now that is a bad habit baby, what's on your mind little girl?" Elvis asked as you gazed up at him with those big, wide eyes that could make him melt.

"It's stupid," You said before he cut you off.

"It's not stupid, Y/N, if it's botherin' ya, which it clearly is, you can tell me, I ain't gonna judge, I ain't gonna laugh, okay pretty girl?" Elvis assured.

"'Kay." You smiled sweetly. "I um, I keep hearing things on set or at the parties and I feel real stupid all the time because I don't know what people are talkin' about, like when Paulie Matthews asked me if I 'give a head' and I don't know what it means and I think it might be about being in charge of somethin' like if I'm the head of somethin' but m'not sure." You said, looking up at Elvis with nothing but innocence.

Elvis paused, he knew he'd have to tell you, but he knew it would be overwhelming for you to take in.

"Well, it's about sex," Elvis said gently, stroking your hair as you rested your back on his leg as you sat cross-legged on the floor. "Do you know much about that, honey?"

You simply shook your head, feeling a little anxious. "No but I wanna know," You paused a little, with Elvis simply watching you, not pressuring you or pushing you. This was a very delicate and sensitive topic, one that Elvis wanted to make sure was done on your terms. He knew that you could be overstimulated easily, so he would make sure he could be there for you, as slowly or as quickly as you needed him to be. "I think." You said.

"What would you like to know, little girl?"

"Um, well, I don't know really where to start really, I know that sounds stupid, but it's just a lot and, and I get confused sometimes with all of it and it's just sorta scary sometimes," You paused, fiddling with your fingers with your cheeks heating up into a pink shade. "M'sorry, that sounds dumb."

"That doesn't sound dumb, Y/N. Sex is a very special thing, so it can be scary to start with, s'only natural, little un'." Elvis assured. A small smile formed on your face as his words brought you comfort.

"How about we start with the basics? Do you know what sex is?" Elvis asked.

You nodded cutely, your head bobbing up and down eagerly, trying to impress Elvis and show him that you weren't as dumb as everyone thought.

"Uh-huh!"

"Wanna explain it to me then baby?" Elvis said cooly.

"Um, okay, it's um, well, um," You said, tripping over your words. "A man puts his thing into a lady and um, well, it makes a baby!" You said, relieved you'd got your words out.

"So you know where babies like you come from?" Elvis said with that shit-eating grin he always had, teasing you and making you giggle, covering your face a little with embarrassment.

"M'not a baby Elvis!" You blushed with a bashful giggle. "And of course I do! I really want to have a baby and be a mother." You said with keen earnest.

You'd always wanted to be a mother and be able to give all the love you had consumed inside of you to another being. Secretly, you wanted Elvis to maybe be the father, but you would never tell him that, even if secretly, he knew.

"Really?" Elvis said.

"Uh-huh! I would really like to be a mother! I think I would really like to have a baby!"

"I think you'd be an amazing mother." Elvis said with complete sincerity. He knew he was right, you were the most loving, caring and sweet little thing in the state, no, in the country.

Your heart was practically bursting, squirming about with delight. Elvis smiled, besotted with the sweet thing sat in front of him. "Really? Do you think so?" You giggled.

"Look at you, getting all flustered." Elvis teased. "But you're still a little one yourself, I ain't putting a baby in that belly just yet." He said, before he realised what he was saying.

Your eyes went as wide as a bush baby at his words. You didn't think he'd ever look at you in that way. Sure, you wouldn't really hesitate to admit you had a little crush on him, but he was the biggest superstar in the whole world who could have any woman he wanted, you never thought he was being anything but caring towards you.

Elvis got up from the couch, heading over to the drinks cart. "Want somethin' to drink, honey?" Elvis asked, pouring himself a scotch.

You asked for a Coca-Cola which he grabbed from the fridge, walking over and handing it to you as you stayed sat on the carpet.

"Doll, are ya sure you wanna keep talkin' about this?" Elvis checked, not wanting to make you uncomfortable - that was the last thing he'd want.

You nodded. You were hesitant of course, and Elvis could see that. He assured you that you could both take the conversation at your own pace, stopping as soon as you said so.

Elvis went on to explain to you what 'give a head' meant, your eyes went wide, and your nose scrunched up cutely, Elvis laughed a little at your reactions, but never patronised you. You asked endless questions, and Elvis answered every single one.

You felt fortunate to be around Elvis, he let you take everything at your own pace, which you loved as you always felt like you were a little slower to pick things up and felt a little behind everyone else. Growing up, your mother would berate you for not learning your audition lines fast enough, but despite always trying your very best, you could never quite catch up.

Elvis treated you differently though, he never rushed you, not once. When you didn't understand something, you could lean up on your tippy toes and whisper it into his ear and he would gently explain what was going on, guiding you and helping you, no matter how big or small.

"Now, I think that's enough for one day." Elvis said, placing a light kiss atop of your head. "C'mere, little un'," Elvis softly demanded, gesturing for you to join him on the couch. He opened his arms for you crawl into, cuddling you close.

He was proud of you, it was an intense conversation but you handled it well. "How are you feelin' pretty girl?"

You smiled up at him, telling him that you were overwhelmed but happy, which he understood. "How's about you tell me about your new book, little lady?" Elvis asked.

You nodded eagerly, beginning to ramble on about everything you loved about the book, what you think will happen and all the things you thought Elvis would love about it too.

Elvis watched, thinking about how cute you looked. He looked at today as a breakthrough in your relationship, he knew it wouldn't be long before he took the next step with you.

Naturally, you were completely oblivious to what he was planning, but you trusted Elvis, you knew he'd always protect you. You were his.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #yandere elvis #elvis aaron presley #elvis the king #elvis x you

[ayyy-pee]

i'm just rambling some thoughts off at this point...but i think about nanami and gojo together a lot...

them finding solace and comfort in each other after losing the people who meant the most in the world to them. i imagine nanami withdrawing into himself after the loss of haibara and making the decision to leave jujutsu society as soon as he graduates.

satoru can't imagine living a life like that, the life of a normie. he's only ever known sorcery, doesn't have a choice but to live the life of a sorcerer. a blessing, and a curse to be the strongest.

but then he loses suguru, not just to suguru's madness, but he loses suguru to his own hand. he takes his life for the sake of humanity, because only he can. because he's the strongest.

nanami has given satoru space to mourn his love. he imagines it must be difficult to be the strongest, to have no other option than to keep moving forward because being stagnant means danger for them all. but he sees the quiet sorrow behind satoru's otherwise glowing eyes. and he understands him a little better now. because it’s the same sadness nanami recognizes in his own eyes when he sees his reflection.

nanami begins to come around campus more and check in on satoru. his presence is always welcome, though the visits are short because satoru can't help but be satoru. picking at what annoys nanami the most. little jabs here and there at nanami…but it does bring some semblence of normalcy between them. and though nanami'd never considered them friends as teens, as time goes on, the small drop ins become regular visits. the short walks to the dorms or train stations turn to dinners together after work. the small jabs from gojo, the incessant need to constantly fill the air with small talk...it slowly morphs into comfortable silence. just content to be together. it feels like friendship at first.

satoru enjoys nanami's company more than he could tell his colleague...he looks forward to his daily visits, to seeing that familiar frown line he’s grown accustomed to. he watches his students train and thinks about telling nanami about every little thing they've learned. in his downtime he's looking up the best new menu items at various restaurants around Tokyo. he knows nanami's a foodie. and he looks forward to hearing his rave (short and to the point) reviews about the meals he tries.

nanami also enjoys satoru's company more than he would care to admit, finding himself purchasing many sweet treats from bakeries when he had to travel out of town to exorcise a curse. he also missed satoru's company more than he would care to admit when he had to go on said trips.

they're not sure when exactly the air began to shift ever so slightly whenever they were in the room together. they're not sure when exactly the charge began to ripple between them the moment their cursed energy touched. neither could tell you when they began sitting a little closer in the teacher's lounge, when they began sharing the same side of their booth when they went to dinner. and they definitely couldn't tell you when the shy touches between them began.

and the touches were so small; a hand grazing the others as they strolled through the halls in conversation, their thighs brushing together as they sat and ate lunch on the courtyard benches…but the guilt they both felt was tremendous, gnawing away at them in ways neither could imagine. even after all these years.

“do you ever think about haibara?” satoru asks one afternoon as he walks the familiar path to the train station with nanami.

the question surprises nanami, their comfortable silence being broken by such a blunt question. but that's just satoru. nanami knows. he answers honestly.

“everyday,” he admits and satoru nods, trying to ignore this very strange feeling bubbling in his gut at nanami’s answer. he knows it’s fair for him to think about his dead love. lord knows satoru does. but it still pricks at the back of his mind, selfish as that may seem.

he tells nanami he experiences the same, thinking abouts suguru everyday that is. “i loved suguru...a lot.” satoru mutters softly and nanami hums.

"i felt the same about yu," he quietly tells satoru.

their hands brush as they move, their confessions hanging between them as they continue their journey to the trains. it shouldn't take this long normally, but they've slowed their paces, trying to buy more time with each other.

“sometimes i think i’m ready to move on," satoru nearly whispers. "then just the thought alone scares me. makes me feel like i'm..." he shakes his head. "like i'm betraying suguru somehow," he chuckles. the irony is not lost on him that he somehow feels he's betraying the man who betrayed them all. but still, it's a humbling feeling, one satoru doesn't feel often: fear.

nanami nods in understanding. “anything new feels terrifying. it’s not an uncommon feeling.”

he says it so casually that satoru has to ask. “do you ever think you’ll move on from haibara?” because he’s dying to know, though he doesn't know what exactly he'll do with that information.

nanami is quiet for a moment, pondering the question carefully. "i think i’ll always care for yu..." the train station approaches. "of course,” their hands brush again, the touch, repeating, lingering until they've reached the station. "if the right person came along, i don't think it would be as scary to move forward."

and with that, nanami leaves.

satoru lets nanami's words sit with him even as he watches nanami descend the stairs and disappear into the station, not bothering to look back at him, which is so like nanami that it's become endearing to satoru. he thinks about nanami's words even as he's walked back to the campus. even after he's showered and lying in bed. and even as he closes his eyes. his mind reels as he thinks about what nanami said.

if the right person came along

and suddenly, satoru's guilt eases.

if the right person came along

he lets his eyes drift closed, a soft smile on his face as his mind once again plays those words over and over.

if the right person came along

sleep washes over him, his dreams vivid and clear.

a calm blue sky.

the warmth of the sun on his face.

and a blonde haired man standing before him.

A/N: Artist is @Petridumps on twitter who has the most amazing and beautiful Nanago art!

#nanami kento x gojo satoru #kento nanami x satoru gojo #nanago #nanami x gojo #kento nanami x gojo satoru #gojo satoru x nanami kento #satoru gojo x nanami kento #satoru gojo x kento nanami #gonana #jjk fic #jjk drabble #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo and nanami fit together so wellllllll #the pain they share and can get each other through #WAHHHHH I LOVE NANAGO

[sherifftillman]

Firsts

Pairing: Tom Grant x f!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Tags: Make Up (film), 18+ (minors DNI), slow burn, underage alcohol content, virgin! tom and virgin!reader, protected sex (if tom can wrap it, so can you), just the fluffiest smut i've ever written tbh, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v,

Summary: A boy you met in the playground has a far greater effect on your life than you could have imagined.

Word count: 12k

A/N: Ugh, hopefully this signifies the end of my writer's block. Thanks for hanging in there, gang! Enjoy my first Tom fic <3

Age 4

You sit on the roundabout cross-legged, indignantly pressing your hands into your cheeks. You look over at some of the other kids, playing with their friends. You wish you could have friends here too. Even though your parents took you here on holiday, and there’s loads of stuff at the holiday park specifically catered to kids your age, the most they’ll do is bring you to the park for half an hour or so before dragging you along to all the stupid, boring things that they want to do.

A boy with curly hair that sticks out in all directions and brown eyes that glisten when the midday sun hits them saunters up to you. “Hiya. Are you waiting for anyone else?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine. You and your friends can have it.”

“Oh, I’m here by meself, too! Well not by meself, me mam’s here too, but I thought we could take it in turns!” He outstretches his hand, “I’m Thomas!”

You snort out a laugh. “Like the tank engine?”

“Shut up,” he frowns, making you giggle again.

“My dad’s friend’s name is Freder-eder-ded- Fredrid- Frederick, but we just call him Fred ’cause it’s easier. Maybe I can call you… Tom.”

His eyes light up. He has the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen. “I’d like that. Tom. Yeah. Thanks.”

“Your voice is weird,” you point out.

“Shut up!” he repeats. “Yours is the weird one.”

"Well, I've never heard one like yours before so that makes it weird. Now c’mon, you can spin me first,” you tell him, and with that, he wraps his hands around the metal pole of the roundabout and runs as fast as his tiny legs will take him.

Age 13

Another year, another caravan holiday. The older you get, the less tolerance you have for your parents’ boring excursions. But you absolutely love the downtime in between where you’re just at the caravan park. Because it means you get to hang out with your best friend.

As sad as you are to see your tradition go, of the pair of you picking out postcards for each other to spend all your holiday pocket money on to send to each other throughout the year, you are very excited to show him your birthday present since the last time you saw him.

“Hiya,” comes a familiar call from behind you as you sit at the roundabout that you first met Tom on. You run to him, with his arms outstretched wide, flinging your own around him as soon as you can reach him. His face buries into your cheek as you hug each other, his laughter filling your ears. “Got summat to show ya,” he says as you’re still embraced before pulling away.

“Oh, I have something to show you, too!” you grin, both of you fumbling through your pockets before you both brandish your mobile phones to each other.

With excited gasps, you recite your own numbers that you've memorised to each other, and immediately text each other, despite being feet away. You read your messages on each others’ screens as though it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever come across.

The two of you walk down to the beach together, babbling on about school life and home life and everything in between life. You notice that Tom goes quiet after a little while, which isn’t like him. You sit down on a log you’d both claimed a few years ago, and Tom picks up a branch from the ground near it and starts drawing absent-mindedly in the sand. You ask with a frown, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah!” he lies, but you glare at him.

“Liar,” you shove him, and he laughs softly. “You think I can’t tell by now? What’s really wrong?”

He sighs, “Well… You know my best mate, Jake?” You nod. “Well, he got a - got a girlfriend last year.”

“You make that sound like that’s the worst thing in the world,” you laugh.

“Obviously it’s not,” he pulls a face at you. “But, like… I’m gonna have to… Kiss a girl at some point soon, aren’t I? It’s all Jake asks of me these days.”

You giggle, “What, is someone still afraid of getting girl germs?”

“No!” Tom elbows you in the side. “I’m...Worried I’ll be shit at it.”

You roll your eyes, “Nobody expects you to be good at it right off the bat!” Tom keeps looking at you sadly and you sigh. “What, you want to practise or something?”

Tom's eyes widen, then he nods slowly. “If that’s okay with you...”

You shrug, “I haven’t had any experience either, so...” you trail off. "I'll probably be shit, too."

“R-right, w-well,” Tom stammers, “I think I- I come over like this, a-and...” he leans towards you, resting a hand on your hip. He leans in close to you, tilting his head both ways. You try and match his movements, but at the last minute his nose crashes into yours and you both laugh nervously.

You try to play it cool, try to breathe deeply in case he can hear your heart thumping too. You’re so close to him right now you can see the little dip left by the dimple that forms when he smiles. The specks in his eyes that glow in the sun. Tom has been the love of your life - but you can’t say that, you’re only 13, you’ve barely lived.

You hold his jaw in place and move to him. His lips are smooth, warm, full, simply invigorating. He doesn’t respond at first, and you feel like kissing just his top lip probably isn't right, but after a few pecks from you he starts to kiss back. Feeling him push out to you makes you crave even more. He carries on with even more fervour until he suddenly stops, pulling back and whipping his hand back into his lap. He mumbles a “thanks” and goes back to poking the sand with his stick.

Your chest feels as though it’s made of lead. You excuse yourself and run all the way back to your caravan, heading straight to your bed and sobbing into your pillow. Of course he hated kissing you.

You do everything you can to avoid Tom for a while. You immerse yourself in everything your family wants to do, constantly asking what they’ve got planned to go out and do, emphasis on the go out bit. You switch your phone off so as not to be distracted by his texts. You rarely leave the caravan.

It’s only on the second-to-last day that your parents basically kick you out of the caravan for the day. Despite them giving you plenty of money to play in the arcade with, you find yourself sitting on one of the swings in the playpark, rocking yourself back and forth absentmindedly.

You don’t notice Tom approaching you, you’re too immersed in trying to think of anything else but him. He clears his throat to get your attention. You notice he’s breathless and red in the face, like he’s been sprinting. With a heavy heart, you nod at him in acknowledgement. “Hiya,” he starts softly.

“Hey.” you reply bluntly. You don’t mean to be so cold to him, you don’t want to be - but you have to be.

“You’ve been mad distant lately, are you all right?” Tom asks, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“Nope, I’m half left, see,” you wave your left hand in the air half-heartedly and Tom chuckles.

“That’s not what I meant, idiot.” He chews on his lip before continuing, “Is it because of how I kissed?” You think about whether or not to answer honestly when he continues sadly, “Was I really that bad at it?”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, you were fine. I...I’ve been busy with holiday stuff! Parents, you know how it is.” You're lying through your teeth, but what did you expect? For Tom to also fall for you as soon as your lips connected? Of course not.

“Right,” Tom breathes out a sigh of relief before continuing, “but you normally don’t go along with that, if you can help it… Does that mean you don’t want to hang out with me any more?” His voice falters back to sadness.

“Well, no,” you blurt out before you can think of something else. Damn. You didn’t want to outright say no because you can’t keep making yourself feel like this. But you look at his smile, at the dimples that you could place on him from memory, at his eyes lit up like a Christmas display, at how his freckles dance up his cheeks, and all of that flies out the window.

“Good! Because - Well, it’s a bit stupid, I know, but they’re doing a thing in the entertainment hall tonight, since it’s most kids’ last day here before school starts, a-and I...I was wondering if...” he starts wringing his hands together.

“You’re worried you’ll look like Billy No-Mates if you turn up without a date and you don’t know any other girls here well enough,” you state simply.

“There’s… More to it than that,” Tom scrunches his face up.

Of course, what you’re unaware of is that Tom is terrified he’s lost you for good. That him being so nervous about being too eager to kiss you that he had to stop himself has been too obvious and ruined your first kiss and that he’s lost the girl he loves. But he won’t admit that. He’ll let you believe whatever you want as long as he gets to spend time with you again. As long as he gets to watch the sparkle in your eyes dance when you laugh, and the little twitch of the nose you do right before you start to think deeply about something, that’s all he wants back.

You, blissfully unaware of this, shrug in defeat, “Sure. It’ll be nice to catch up over the last few days, I guess.”

Tom grins, “Alright, sound! I mean, I doubt we’ll really be able to catch up at the dance, but...We could always grab dinner together at the restaurant bit beforehand, just me an’ you?”

“Sounds good,” you press your lips together and nod. Tom grins and waves goodbye as he leaves the park, leaving you to curse yourself. You’re just letting him walk all over you - to you, Tom is now your first friend, first kiss, first dinner date, first dance date; you feel like to Tom you’re just a test dummy.

Age 16

You knew he had a girlfriend, now. He’d phoned you about Ruth in the early days of knowing her, and despite everything, you’d talked him into asking her out. He deserves that happiness, even if he can't get it with you.

She had seemed really interested in getting to know you, too, at first. Tom was always telling you that she’d been asking questions constantly about you, and that he couldn’t wait for the two of you to meet. “My girls,” he’d always say. Your heart would soar 50 feet into the air just to plummet a hundred at those words.

Phone calls became less frequent as months went on. After you’d sent over your Christmas card and present to him, as per your tradition, you only got back a card that had your name written at the top, and “- Tom” at the bottom. Not the “Love,” that would always come before it. Not the little kiss he’d always put underneath his name. That really stung.

What was once a constant stream of texts from wishing each other good morning to goodnight every day for the last 3 years becomes occasional, which becomes non-existent. He doesn’t even text you on your birthday.

You beg and you plead with your parents to not go on the annual Cornwall holiday. Anywhere but. You’re 16 now, that’s plenty old enough to stay at home on your own. You’d be more than happy to have a neighbour check in on you regularly and spontaneously. Or a family member. Even your worst enemy, just - not there. Not facing him. And besides, you’re almost certain he won’t be alone with his parents this year.

And you’re right. She’s hanging off of his arm all the while the other regular teens crowd around them. They’re all just as much your friends as they are his. But this year you don’t feel welcome around them.

And it’s not just jealousy on your part. You’d even tried to be friendly. You’d practically skipped up to the both of them on your first day, after a lot of mental preparation, to a judgemental stare from Ruth that started from the moment she laid eyes on you, to the moment you left her field of vision. It burned especially strongly when Tom hugged you in greeting, even if you could have gotten a more meaningful exchange with a Lego figurine, with a just as emotionless, "Hiya."

It hurts when you end up seeing Ruth and Tom together and she’s the one who notices and suddenly drapes herself over him. It hurts more when it’s him that sees you first and he takes her by the hand and simply runs off with her.

It hurts the most when you catch them kissing on your log. Once again, 3 years later, you’re running from that beach to your caravan and you’re curling up in your bed crying your eyes out. Except, this year’s trip won’t end in a dinner where he feeds you his chips just because you didn’t ask for any with your meal and he wants to make sure you don’t nick all of his. It won’t end with a DJ asking everyone - and he means everyone - to make their way to the only slow-dance of the night, and Tom goofily dancing in ultra slow motion as he eventually encourages you to do the same. It’ll end in him doing that with her, while you sit and eat whatever your parents can make out of whatever’s left in the fridge and fight back the tears you haven’t yet cried while in the privacy of your own room.

It makes sense, after all. Tom being your first love, he was always destined to be your first heartbreak, too.

Age 17

You hear a moan fall into your mouth, you feel a hand grip on your arm. Another rests on your thigh. Your hand moves up to his hair, burying deep into his soft, brown curls. Except it doesn’t. It barely scrapes through the cropped, straight hair of your boyfriend. 

You’d so loved that the guy on the other side of the classroom in your college class had noticed you, had asked you out. Your parents love him, your friends back home love him. And, as it had turned out, he’d even been holidaying at the same caravan park you always do. It’s just that while your family normally goes at the end of the summer break, his goes at the start. Your family let you go with his this year instead, which you’re thrilled about. Hopefully you can create memories with your boyfriend in Cornwall with absolutely no trace of Tom, who’s surely only going to be there in the last week, like always.

You don’t believe it when you see him and her in the distance, outside the window. You think you must be making it up. There’s no way. It’s only fleeting, so you shake it off and try to focus on being in the moment with your boyfriend. He takes you by the hand, leads you to your bedroom for the next week, sits you both on the bed and starts kissing you intensely. That’s when you start imagining him as Tom, again. This is exactly the opposite of what you wanted to happen.

Later on, when you’re on your way to the arcade, you spot an old friend from past trips. She excitedly greets you, states her surprise over seeing you so early in the summer, and tells you that she works here now. She tells you of a staff party that’s happening in one of the luxury chalets. It’s apparently a tradition, first weekend of every summer holiday period, the staff club together and buy it out for a weekend. She invites you both along, and you gleefully accept.

You speculate all week about what your first house party is going to be like. What being drunk for the first time is going to be like. Your boyfriend laughs at you every time. "You're hilarious. I can't wait to see how sloppy you get."

That makes you nervous. How much alcohol does it take to get you wasted? You were hoping to make sure you stayed of enough sound mind to remember it all. Would you really inevitably get "sloppy" and embarrass yourself?

When the party's finally in full swing, you're insistent on sticking to cans of soda. Your boyfriend frowns at you, demands to know why you're suddenly so shy over drinking after it being all you could talk about. You tell him you just need to build up to it, that it's a first time which makes it a big deal. He rolls his eyes and mutters something about first times and walks away.

You frown at that. There's only two main things about you and firsts. The fact that you and Tom may never share any more, which you've never discussed with your boyfriend; and that the first time the two of you had tried going beyond kissing, he'd called you…

No, you're not thinking about that. He said he's sure it's something you'll get over, and once you are, he'll be ready for you. You just need to try and rein it in for yourself. Did he resent you because you hadn't managed to keep it under control yet?

Your brain is swimming when you hear the one voice you'd simultaneously been waiting for and dreading. "Hiya!"

Taking a deep breath in and putting on a brave face, you feign surprise. “Oh my god, Tom! Hi! What are you doing here?!”

“Well, Ruth had made friends with one of the girls that works here, Jade, and she invited us - well, Ruth, but, y’know, we’re sort of a package deal,” he laughs awkwardly. “Um, so, what are you doing here?”

“Hayley works here now, an’ all! Remember her?”

Tom laughs under his breath, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t surprise me in the slightest. ’Member how she was always the first to volunteer to get on stage?” You both laugh loudly before faltering into a weird silence. “So, found your tipple of choice, yet?” he asks, gesturing to the plastic cup in your hand.

“Oh!” You shake your head. “Not yet. I wouldn’t even know which one to start with. I’ve, uh, I’ve never really drank before.”

Tom chuckles, “Hey, me neither! Was gonna play it safe and go for a beer. Fancy indulging in my first one with me?”

“We’ve shared enough by now, haven’t we?” you ask with a small smile. 

“So,” he starts as you both head into the kitchen. “You never really explained why you’re here this early.”

“Didn’t I? I’m here with my boyfriend and his family,” you explain.

Tom’s face falls, though you’re too busy navigating your way past everyone at the party to notice. “O-oh… Boyfriend? Is he… Y’know, good to you, an’ that?” He asks, his energy suddenly depleted.

“Yeah! Yeah, he’s great. Dunno where he is at the moment, but I’ll have to introduce you both while we’re here,” you nod.

“Definitely! I’ll let Ruth know you’re here, she can say hi to you an’ all.” Tom thankfully doesn’t notice your eyes rolling as he studies the drinks now in front of you both. Tom looks over his shoulder at you and jerks his head at the kitchen counter. “Pick our poison, then.”

You shrug, “I dunno, you said beer? Let’s go with that.”

Tom nods, grabbing a couple of bottles and an opener, clicking the lids off and handing one to you. “To us, eh? Finally growing up.”

WIth a defeated smile, you clink your bottle against his and you both take your first sips. Tom immediately pulls a face of disgust, which then turns to intrigue. He looks over at you and laughs as you stand there, looking as though you’ve squeezed an entire lemon out onto your tongue. “Maybe we’ll get you something sweeter. ’Ere, how about one of these flavoured vodkas? Stick some of that in with your Coke.”

You and Tom stay and chat for the best part of an hour, catching up on everything. It’s the happiest you’ve felt in a long while. Certainly this whole week. But then he talks about finding Ruth and for the first time all night, you think about where your boyfriend could be.

You take a lap of the cabin. And another. And another. Each time more and more anxious. Calling his name out is getting you nowhere.

And then you see a flash of him getting pulled into another room. You don’t see the other person. Their arm is especially slender, their painted nails gripping his shirt as he grins down at them. You stare at the door as it closes, in pure shock and horror.

Your ears ring until you eventually hear a faint, but familiar, “Hiya, what’s going on with you? You’ve been up and down like a bleedin’ yoyo!” Tom notices your lack of response and frowns. “What?” As you still don’t answer, he follows your line of vision and points, “In that door?” Your lip quivers and his face steels. “Right.”

The next few seconds happen in slow motion and high speed all at once. Tom swinging the door open. His, “You better not be who I fucking think you are, mate.” Him getting pinned against the wall by your (as of right now) ex. Tom spitting in his eye to get dropped. Your boyfri- ex-boyfriend’s, “Is she as fucking disgusting with you as she is with me?” as Tom tries to walk away. Tom’s face absolutely seething as he turns back around, strides up to your ex and punches him square in the face.

Finally, you find it in you to scream at Tom to stop, and then turn to your ex. “The actual fuck is wrong with you?! Acting a victim just because I was catching up with a friend while you were chatting girls up in the same fucking house?!”

“You know what? Fuck this. Make your own way home. Bitch,” your ex snarls as he pushes past you to the front door as he storms out of it.

You hear a, “What the fuck happened to you?!” and see Ruth approach with her new friend, a girl with just-above-shoulder-length hair. Ruth’s looking at Tom’s red knuckles in horror.

“I’m fine, babe, honest. It were just… That dickhead was feeling up some other bird while…” He gestures weakly at you.

Ruth presses her lips together and nods, “Right. So you’ll punch a guy for her, yeah?”

He groans, lolling his head back. “C’mon, Ruth, don’t be like that now, please. You know I’d do the same if it were you. Or even Jake, or any one of my friends, alright? Don’t mean nothin’.”

“Yeah, well. Think I’m gonna sleep over at Jade’s tonight, anyway. Wanna see how the staff live,” she explains, gesturing to her friend.

Tom looks a little dejected, but he shrugs it off. “Alright, it’s your holiday, too. Have fun. I’ll text you in the morning, yeah?” She nods, and he goes up to kiss her. You look away, wincing. She scowls at you as she walks past you to leave. 

Someone else in the crowd snorts, “Don’t you think that’s a bit fucking dodgy?”

“What is?” Tom asks, turning to face them.

“Accusing you of cheating on her with a ‘friend’ and then conveniently sleeping over with a friend of her own?” They fold their arms to raise their eyebrows in suspicion at Tom.

He merely shrugs, carefree. “Exactly. It’s perfectly normal to just have friends, alright?” He sounds a little exasperated at that, holding his hands up. “It’d only be dodge if I were also up to no good. But I’m not, because I know that it’s okay to just hang out with a friend every now an’ then.” He looks at you and shrugs. “Listen, don’t worry about tonight. Mum and Dad had us in a twin room, anyway, I can pull the beds back apart again if you need a place to sleep. Till then, we can stay here, long as you like. Alright?”

You nod gratefully, pushing out a whispered, “Thank you.” 

You hug him tightly and he gives you just as much back, rocking you gently from side to side before rubbing up and down your back and offering, “So, how’s about we go back and demolish all the vodka and coke in that kitchen, yeah?”

You awaken in a single bed, next to another single bed that has a stirring Tom in it. He looks over at you, rubbing his eyes awake, “Hiya.”

You groan, “Of all the first encounters we’ve had, I’m begging you to have looked into how to deal with our first hangovers.”

He snorts with laughter. “‘’Fraid not. Looks like we’re suffering together.”

“Fantastic,” you whine as you throw yourself to lay on your other side.

Age 18

Even now that you’re legally an adult, that caravan park in Cornwall never evades you. You’d wanted to go on one of those big pre-university holidays to Spain or Greece like most 18 year olds do, but too many plans kept falling through and things kept going wrong and so, in order to catch some kind of break, you end up giving into your friend Hayley’s offer to stay with her for the holiday period. The friend that works there.

The staff living quarters are identical to the rest of the caravan park, with the exception of a common area with a bonfire. As you’re carrying your suitcase past it, you spot her. Again. Of course. You await the disgusted glare she’s about to give you, but she doesn’t seem to acknowledge your existence in the slightest. Hayley catches up with you, notices, and nudges you, “You know, she’s actually a lot more chilled out now that she’s with Jade instead.”

You double-take so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. “She’s wi- You mean, with?” Your friend nods. “Aww. Well, good for her, I guess.”

Once you’re in the caravan, you take out your phone and tap through to yours and Tom’s text history. You read back the last text you’d had from him, almost a year ago:

Hiya. Hope you’re alright, and you got on the train okay. Listen, I know I said all that guff about us just being friends, and I know that’s what both of us have always been, but Ruth’s proper upset about it. It was really good to see you again, but I don’t think we should talk while this is still fresh. Safe travels.

You wonder why he never thought to text you even after they’d broken up. Did he even want to hear from you again? You bite the bullet and text anyway:

Hey, stranger! Heard about you and Ruth. Sorry to hear it. Hope you’re doing well.

Hiya, yourself! Yeah, thanks, I’m holding up. Better for us all, really. How’d you hear, if you don’t mind me asking? x

Saw her at the caravan site and she didn’t give me evils, lol. 

YOU’RE HERE?! :D x

Yeah! 

Wait, when you say *here*...

What caravan are you staying in? x

One of the staff ones, 159. Why?

He doesn’t text back as quickly after that, so you instead start fixing up some lunch for you and your friend. She goes down to the shop to pick up something for the two of you to drink, and while you have the caravan to yourself, there’s a hurried knocking at the door. You assume Hayley told her bosses that she’s got someone living with her over the summer - she does have one of the ‘luxury’ two-bed caravans, after all - so there should be no problem with you answering it.

You don’t even get a good look at who it is before you’re being swept up in their arms and backed into the caravan, but you recognise that scent, that grip, that swooping feeling in your stomach. That laughter in your ear, followed by the greatest word in the English language, “Hiya.”

“Oh my god! What are the chances that you - oh my god!” You yell excitedly as you see him in his uniform. He twirls himself from side to side with a proud smile to show it off. “You got a job here, too?!”

He grins, “Yeah!” but it falters. “’Course, it would’ve helped if I’d’ve known my ex was dumping me for someone else who works here before I accepted but,” he shrugs, “swings and roundabouts. Speaking of! They’ve got rid of our park.”

You gasp sorrowfully. “What? No!”

“I know! They’re redoing the whole thing,” he pouts.

“I mean, to be fair, it was getting close to becoming an actual death trap,” you point out. “Last year, I don’t think the roundabout even actually spun anymore!” You both laugh as Hayley returns.

“Oh! Alright, Tom! See you’ve found my fugitive for the next six weeks.”

“Sure have! Can I nick her for a bit, though? Got some catching up to do,” he looks at her hopefully, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

She looks between the two of you before grinning, “Yeah, why not? I can make my own lunch, away with you both!”

“Have you not had lunch yet, then?” Tom frowns as you both walk down the steps of the caravan.

“Mate, I literally just got here,” you gesture to your car as Tom falls into a pile of giggles.

“Alright, mate,” he nudges you with his elbow as he mocks you. “How’s about we take full advantage of my new staff discount,” he waggles an ID card between his fingers, “and go get you your own chips for once?”

“You remembered!” You cackle. “And they’re way tastier when they’re not mine.”

All through your meal, as you catch up, there's a very large elephant in the room that Tom isn't addressing. After a post-lunch walk ends up taking you to your log, the bittersweet punch that hits your chest finally has you speak up as Tom sits on the log, sprawling his legs out in front of him: "Why didn't you ever text?" Tom presses his lips together as he takes a deep breath in and out. "I know… I know you said that Ruth didn't like you talking to me, and while that was shit, I kinda get it. But… Why didn't you…?"

"Reach out after we broke up?" Tom asks, bending his knees to rest his elbows on as he rubs his face with his palms. "I don't fucking know, is my honest answer. I thought about it, if that helps. Probably fucking doesn't," he mutters. "I just… Assumed you'd hate me for letting a girl come between us."

"Well… A little," you admit, finally sitting down next to him. "Hate you more for assuming I'd hate you, though." Tom shoves your shoulder as he laughs softly, and you chuckle quietly, too.

"Let me make it up to you?" he asks. "Dinner at my caravan later?"

You groan, "Please tell me you've learned to do more than put tinned spaghetti on a slice of uncooked bread."

"As long as you eat it like a sandwich, ain't nothing wrong with it," he beams. "But, just for you, I'll make it proper special, yeah?"

"Ooh, like a date? Do I have to dress up?" You tease, and he laughs loudly.

"I distinctly remember you wearing jeans on our first date, so you've set the bar pretty low there."

You look at him in mock offence, "Excuse you! Those were my smart jeans that had the sequin dolphins on them! I felt like a little celebrity in those," you reminisce.

"You can wear what you like, just… Maybe no bedazzled fish this time, eh?" He glances over at you side-eyeing him and interrupts you before you can start correcting him, "I know, I know, dolphins are mammals, actually." He collapses into a fit of giggles, losing the accent he's using to mock yours as he squawks at you trying to push him off the log entirely.

"Can't believe you remember that, and all," you smile fondly.

"Of course. Still got that toy one I bough-" Tom interrupts himself, but you silently encourage him. "I, uh, we had a school trip to the aquarium. An' they had a - a little gift shop there, they had these toy dolphins. I bought one to give you years ago, but I just… Never got round to it."

“Ruth stopped you?” you guess, and he pulls a face in response. You copy him, “You’ll just have to give it to me when you come visit me in Nottingham, won’t you?”

He sits bolt upright. “You what?!”

You giggle, “I got into Nottingham. For uni, I mean.”

“Shit, that’s huge! Grats!” he pins your arms to your side in a quick squeeze. "An' there's a bus that goes straight there from Derby, so there'll be no escaping me!"

Your eyebrows knit together, "You not staying here year-round?"

He shakes his head. "I was gonna, when I first applied for it, but then… Well, things have changed now, in't they?"

You giggle, "I'll finally get to see your house for real!"

Tom gasps excitedly, "Shit, yeah, and Mum'll be dead happy to see you again!" He slaps his knees and stands up, "Right, well. This ain't getting me back to work, is it? Gotta make sure I clock off nice an’ early." He offers his hand out to you. "Wanna get up too, or are you staying here?"

You take his hand and let him pull you up to standing. "Nah, I better get back to Hayley at some point. Text me whenever you want me ’round, yeah?" You ask, trying not to grin stupidly at the fact Tom doesn't let go of your hand right away.

"Will do. In a bit, yeah?" he asks with a smile, holding your hand out to him for just long enough for you to speculate whether he was about to kiss it before letting it go, instead.

As you head straight back up the path next to the log, he goes across the beach for a minute, making his way to the other side of the park where he needs to be instead. You return to caravan 159 to see Hayley sprawled across the sofa, watching the tiny TV. She jumps up excitedly when she sees you. “So, how’d it go?” You explain that you have dinner planned with him tonight, but that you’re not certain what level of date to consider it. Hayley helps you go through the clothes you’d packed, but they were all either too casual or too going-out-y, outfits you’d planned for nights out at bars and nightclubs. Not exactly dinner-with-an-old-friend attire.

Hayley takes you by the hand to her room, where she starts pulling out dresses and holding them against you. You laugh, “Hayles! These are your show outfits, I can’t wear them!”

“Why not?” she frowns. “We’re the same size, I still get to choose which ones I wear every night so I’ll have plenty of options. And Tom and that never come and watch, so he’ll be none the wiser.” She waggles her eyebrows, wiggling the dress in her hands from side to side. “Come on,” she drawls the last word, stretching it out. “You know you want to.”

You snatch it from her and scoff, “If I take this, will you stop?”

She grins wickedly. “Not until you’ve shown me what undies you’re gonna wear, too!”

You feel your face grow warmer as you shake your head, “And what does that have to do with the price of fish?!”

She cackles, “You know.”

“I know nothing, remember? I’m still yet to… Y’know,” you falter. Hayley doesn’t quite know the full extent of yours and Tom’s friendship, only knowing that you’ve both been coming to this park as long as she has. She doesn’t know that there’s ample ammo for her to tease you about tonight, and you put all your energy into calculating everything you’re about to say to make sure you don’t slip up. That’s the last thing you need.

“Is that why you’ve got these?” she asks with a giggle, already back in your bedroom and scooping up a pair of lace panties with her finger from the packing cube you’d assigned for underwear.

Your face now a furnace, you chase after her with a, “Shut it!” as you snatch them away. “They’re for if we ever go… Y’know, out anywhere. Sometimes it just gives you a little boost to wear a cute matching set, know what I mean?”

She grins, “I know, I’m just yanking your chain. Wear what you want, as long as you look good doing it.” Her voice gets quieter as she heads back into the main room of the caravan, until she calls out loudly, “So, where is he taking you, do you know?”

“He says he’s going to cook for me,” you state as you press Hayley’s dress to your front and look in the mirror. “Yeah, said he’ll text me when it’s ready.”

Hayley suddenly reappears back in your doorway looking fearful. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah! Why shouldn’t I be?” you ask with a frown.

“You ever seen Tom’s cooking?”

You shake your head. “Not since we were about 14? And all he could do was heat up tinned spaghetti and dump it onto bread he didn’t even think to toast. But he said he’d do better, and that was four years a-” Your face falls at her expression.

“Babe. He was literally eating that for dinner yesterday when we called for him to come sit round the fire,” she tells you with raised eyebrows.

“So… I should… Just go there as soon as I’m ready?” You ask, nodding slowly, and Hayley mirrors you. She shows you from the window which trailer is Tom’s, and lets you finish getting yourself ready.

After showering, getting dressed - including the set of underwear that Hayley teased you about, even though you definitely don’t plan on having anyone else see it, it’s definitely just to give you the little boost of confidence you need - and applying as much make-up as you feel comfortable putting on for tonight - you give Hayley a quick hug, though she has you pose for some photos first to “commemorate” how good you look in her dress. She’s quick to usher you out of the door afterwards, though, telling you where she’ll bury her spare key so you can get back in (“If you get back in tonight,” she adds with an exaggerated wink as you roll your eyes at her and walk out) and pointing out one more time where Tom lives.

You knock on the door tentatively, but the muffled country music you can hear from the other side tells you that Tom probably can’t hear you. You try the door and it opens easily, allowing you to see Tom dancing around the tiny expanse of his kitchen, singing under his breath as he takes a handful of spaghetti out from its packet and throws it into a pot of boiling water as though it were a part of the way he’s dancing. 

Your phone still clutched in your hand, you go to position it in a way to start recording him, but he catches you. Instead of looking surprised, he simply beckons you over with one finger. Walking across to him, as he’s still singing and swaying, he holds his hand out, to which you give him yours and he twirls you around. “You look amazing,” he smiles at you breathlessly.

Trying not to get too flustered, you quickly reply, “You scrub up alright, yourself!” You gesture to him, looking down at his dress shirt and - “Oh, so when I wear jeans to have dinner with you, I get ridiculed, but -”

“Shhh-sh-sh-sh,” Tom shushes you with a smile, pressing his finger against your lips, which you laugh against. “How come you’re early then, eager beaver? Didn’t even need to tell you where I live.”

“Hayley told me. Warned me to come over and make sure I don’t get food poisoning or something,” you giggle, and Tom gasps, holding a hand to his chest.

“That cheeky cow!” He jokes before draping his arm over your shoulders and aiming you towards the stove. “Well, I’ll have you know, I’ve been cooking not just one, but two options. See, I couldn’t remember if you ate meat or not, so I’ve got some… Broccoli spaghetti dish on the go on this side, and then there’s sausage and rice in this big pot here,” he points out.

“At least none of it came out of a tin, good boy,” you smirk as you take a spoon from the utensil rack on his counter and start stirring the spaghetti around to make sure it all starts cooking. You continue stirring the different pots, asking Tom if there’s anything more to be done, but he simply carries on singing along to what you recognise playing now as Take Me Home, Country Roads, taking another utensil off the rack from where he stands behind you to sing dramatically into the handle as he side-steps back and forth around you. “Can’t believe you actually listen to this stuff,” you muse, shaking your head softly.

“What’d you mean?! It’s decent,” Tom pouts.

“Tom, my granddad listens to Jim Reeves,” you point out.

“Then your granddad’s got excellent taste, don’t he,” Tom grins before putting his hands on your hips. Your heart skips several beats as he gently pushes you out of the way. “C’mon, now, let me dish up. You go sit at the table, yeah?”

Your heart soars again when you see there’s already knives and forks laid out, as well as a candle off to the side. Tom soon follows, holding both plates out to offer to you. You pick the one you prefer and set it down in front of you. Tom puts his down on the other side of the table, fishing a lighter out from his back pocket to light the candle between you. “Shit, I forgot to pour the - d’you like wine? If not, I’ve got some Coke I can put in a wine glass to look dead fancy,” he calls from the kitchen area, where his head is buried in a cupboard.

“You’ve got wine glasses?!” You ask incredulously, leaning around to look at him. “I don’t even know you anymore!”

“Ha-ha,” he deadpans, throwing you a sarcastic smile before holding up the wine bottle. You signal your response and he fills up both glasses accordingly. “Bought ’em to impress a girl, dunno if it was worth it yet, though.” Everything inside you feels like lead again. Of course this wasn’t anything more than platonic. As he hands you the glass, he waggles his eyebrows, “Well? Was it?”

Relieved that you had nothing to worry about after all, you grin, “Am I supposed to be the girl you’re trying to impress? Even though I’ve watched you eat worms?”

He rolls his eyes as he takes his seat again. “It was one worm and it was because shitty Damien dared me, alright?” He defends with a smile, and you laugh. “And besides, I was six! You were no saint back then either, how many times did I eat figurative shit because a certain someone kept tying my shoelaces together?!”

“I can’t believe you never even realised when I was doing it, too,” you clutch your stomach as you sigh, coming down from the raucous laughter his memory had caused you. You offer your glass out to him, “Here, to old times, eh?”

“And new,” he smiles softly, clinking his glass against yours.

Conversation never runs dry between the two of you as you finally catch up properly over everything in the past three years. You laugh, you tease, you reminisce fondly. After dinner and a store-bought dessert that Tom still puts effort into looking fancy, the two of you retire to his sofa to watch whatever’s on TV. 

You deliberately sit so that there’s a little distance between you, not wanting to be presumptuous, and so when you try to sit comfortably, tucking your feet begins you, your rest your head on the back of the seat, ending up with your head just shy of brushing against Tom’s arm. You can sense him looking at you in your peripheral, and look over at him in question. When you make eye contact, he flashes his eyes at you and jerks his head to the side, silently offering you to shuffle up next to him. You do so, moving until your head ends up resting on his shoulder. He drapes his arm around you, holding onto your arm and squeezing it gently.

After a few minutes, you tilt your head up to look at him again. The faintest hint of stubble peeks through his skin, illuminated by a movie you’ve seen so often you could recite it, but it makes Tom laugh nonetheless. Eventually, he’s the one that catches you staring, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.

You push yourself up on the couch a little to get a better look at his face. His gaze never leaves you, but he’s looking a little lower than your eyes. As he looks up at your eyes again, he licks his lips. “Tell me now,” he starts quietly. “Tell me to stop, an’ I will.”

You softly shake your head. “Why would I do that?”

Grinning with a sigh of relief, he reaches up to hold the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s a long one, starting out soft but pressing harder as it carries on. You sit up on your knees to angle yourself better, holding his face in your hands so as not to break the contact with him as your lingering pecks continue, but he quickly - considering it was blindly - taps one of your legs to insinuate that he wants hold of it. You shuffle around until he can grab your ankle to pull it until you’re straddling him.

Your arms rest on his shoulders as you keep kissing him. God, you never want to stop kissing him. The hand not still holding your head snakes between you to rub at your jaw, gently massaging it open to slip his tongue between your lips. You let out a whine involuntarily and curse yourself - your ex hated noises like that - but Tom only pushes you closer to him, humming into the kiss.

Finally, the two of you break away from each other, gasping heavily for air. You catch each other's gaze and share the same ear-to-ear smile. His pupils are blown out and his already plump lips look bigger and redder than ever. You have the urge to take the lower one between your teeth, despite not knowing if he’s into that.

Before you can do anything, he’s pulling you close again, though not to kiss your lips. Holding the back of your neck deliberately, he guides you down to start kissing just below your ear. The sensation you feel from it is like no other, and you find yourself whining and whimpering even more. The sounds only encourage Tom as he finds a sweet soft spot at the side of your neck and sucks on it especially hard. You didn’t expect the low moan to roll out of your mouth, nor did you expect that to cause Tom’s hips to buck up against you.

He stops suddenly, his head whipping back to look up at you. His pupils are blown to almost the size of his irises. “I, um… I’ve never… Sorry, I… Fuck, I dunno how to say this without sounding weird…”

You smile softly at him, playing with the curls behind his ears. “It’s okay. I haven’t, either.”

His face softens. “Then everything’s as it should be, right?” He smiles up at you, his hands moving to hold your hips. Something about his touch coupled with where you are makes you want to grind against him, and so you do, holding the back of his head to pull him close enough to rest his forehead against yours. His mouth suddenly dry, he swallows again. “We should probably move this to the bed… Right? More room an’ that.”

You climb off his lap and hold out your hand. He stands and takes it, leading you to the door between you and his bed. He wrenches the door open, then pulls your arm with enough force to send you crashing against him, chest to chest, before his hands find your jaw again to bring it up to resume kissing you. You giggle against his lips, “What happened to the bed?”

Tom presses another peck onto you. “Missed kissing you already,” he grins back against yours. Neither of your hands stop moving around, exploring each others’ bodies, until you can’t bear not feeling his skin against yours a moment longer. 

Moving to run your finger along his buttons, you look at him expectantly. “Can y-… Do you want…” 

With his trademark smile, Tom’s gaze never leaves yours as he undoes a few buttons before grabbing the back of his collar and throwing his shirt off completely. Entranced, you stroke all over his torso before tracing invisible lines between each of his freckles. Kissing every part of you that he can reach, he eventually pipes up, “Sort of feeling underdressed here.”

You look up to grin at him, “Actually, I think you’re wearing too much.”

“Yeah, course you would,” he smirks as his hands slide up your back to the fastening of your dress. He flashes his eyes at you, a silent request, and you nod. He slowly pulls down the zip until the dress, which you were able to just slide over your head anyway, falls off of your body and pools at your ankles. Tom leans back, looking you up and down as he takes you all in. You’d feel very exposed, were it not for the look in his eye. “Fuck me,” he exclaims under his breath. “You are fucking phenomenal.”

Smiling bashfully, you pull him back towards you by the belt loops of his jeans. “Now who’s overdressed, eh?” You ask as you press yet another kiss to his lips.

“Right,” he grins mischievously, pushing you back so that you fall onto his bed, “you get down there.” Giggling, you shuffle back towards his pillows, lay back to rest on your elbows and watch him unbuckle his belt. He notices and starts humming an unintelligible song that he goofily gyrates to, pulling his belt out and waving it around. You roll around laughing as he continues putting on the most Tom-like striptease for you. Once he’s kicked his jeans off, he clambers onto the bed, crawling up until he’s hovering over you, his face not even an inch from yours. He tilts his chin up until the tip of his nose bumps past yours and trails up your bridge, before bringing it back down and rubbing it against the tip of yours again, side to side. “Never thought this day would come,” Tom admits softly.

“Me neither,” you reply back in the same tone. “Never been more glad to be wrong.”

Letting a laugh slip between his lips, Tom nods, “Me, too.” He kisses your nose before looking down your body, letting his fingertips brush against the cup of your bra. Your breath hitches at his proximity, and he looks back at you to grin, “You sure you didn’t think this was happening?”

You pout, “It’s just nice to know that I look sexy, that’s all!”

“Fuck, yes, you do,” he growls as he leans back down to kiss you, his hand gripping your covered breast. You push yourself up and he pulls back, eyebrows knitted, as you reach back awkwardly to try and unfasten your bra. With another smile, Tom reaches over and takes over, fumbling a few times before eventually getting there. Impatiently, you move your arms to throw your bra aside, not caring where it lands, and Tom’s immediately transfixed on your naked chest.

You reach up to place a finger beneath his jaw, pushing it back up closed, and giggle as soon as you move it back and his jaw drops yet again. He reaches down to grab both of them, one in each hand, and a gentle rush of euphoria sweeps through you. He kisses you again, timing the press of his lips with the squeeze of his hands.

One hand moves from massaging your breast to slowly slide down your torso. This is it, where everything comes to an end. You await with bated breath, hoping he'll just rest his hand on your tummy while he kisses you, or something. But his hands dip lower, and just as you feel him lifting the elastic of your underwear, your hand flies to his wrist, gripping tightly. He stops kissing to look you in the eye, confused concern on his face. "Y'alright? Wanna stop?"

You swallow hard and shake your head. "It's… It's okay, you don't have to - I can- want to take care of you."

The concern in his expression grows. "This is a two-way street, love. If you don't want it, I'm not having it, either."

You pout, "No! It's not that I don't want it! I- I  do, so bad, I just…" You sigh. "So, the reason I've never gotten anywhere yet in this… Department, is because I… I tend to… Produce… A lot. And I get that that's, y'know, gross, so… You don't have t-”

Tom interrupts you by taking your face in his hands and kissing you sweetly. “You.” He says before kissing you again. “Are far from that.” Another kiss, and then his brow furrows. “You mean to tell me that dickhead -?” His eyebrows then raise in realisation. “When he asked if you were… ‘Disgusting’ with me, last year…” You nod slowly, and Tom turns his nose up. “Fucking wanker. Thank fuck you’re mine now, eh?” For years, you’d been used to your heart soaring just for it to drop. You feel that sensation reverse, the heavy weight of your ex’s insults flying off of you at Tom’s words, smiling back at him as his adoring eyes look down at you, his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

You slide your hands onto his shoulders with an, “Always was, really."

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, taking one of your hands into both of his, holding the palm out to kiss it.

You bite your lip into a smile. "I, uh… Whenever me and my ex did used to… Try, the only thing that could get me going was…" You falter, looking up at him as he keeps kissing down your arm.

"Was what, angel? Didn't catch that last bit," he grins against your skin.

You giggle, "It was you, okay? Prick."

Tom buries his face in your neck, his mouth working the tender skin just below the mark he’d already left until you let out another moan, to which his hips roll down to grind against yours. With just two thin layers between you, you feel his thick member spread your lower lips beneath the lace of your underwear, and you instinctively rub yourself up and down his length, your legs wrapping around him. “Here, guess what,” he mutters into your ear.

“What?”

“I could only ever get off thinking of you, an’ all.” You feel his teeth against the shell of your ear as you can hear the grin in his voice. “So, does that mean…” He snakes a hand back to the elastic of your panties, working his fingertips beneath them, “That all this is for m- ohhh, fuuuuck,” he moans breathily as his fingers slide down into your wetness. “You get this turned on, just by me?” He asks, and you nod quietly, still not sure how to respond. He looks at you adoringly. “I must be pretty fucking fit, then, mustn’t I?” he asks, another, more arrogant, smile just pulling at the corners of his lips, and you laugh.

“You’re such a dickhead,” you scold, but honestly, it’s a massive comfort to you knowing that even in this most tender of moments, the dynamic of you and Tom isn’t lost. This feels good, natural, right. No need to fear anything. No need to worry. It’s just you and him. Like Tom said, as it should be.

“Oh, I am?” he asks teasingly, his expression growing more mischievous. “Even when I’m doing this?” He runs his middle finger down between your folds until it slides easily inside of you, guided by your wetness. You drop your head back into his pillows, moaning louder than ever and bucking your hips against his finger. “Fuuuck,” Tom groans, “you feel so fucking good.”

“Not too wet?” you ask quietly, and he pulls his finger back, sucks it clean while looking you dead in the eye, and then makes quick work of pulling your underwear off of you. 

Sinking down to lay between your legs, he sighs dreamily. “Absolutely not.” He laps all around at the mess you’ve already made noisily, cleaning you up before tracing his tongue carefully along your slit. Just as it brushes over your clit, your breath hitches and the whine underneath it lingers. Tom looks up at you, his big brown eyes warm and safe watching your reaction as he first sucks on the sensitive area, and then laps the tip of his tongue back and forth against it. Your hand flies into his hair as you moan and you feel his lips turn up against you.

Tom blindly finds your free hand to reach up and connect his fingers with yours, a tender bond as his other hand spreads you apart. Angling his head slightly, you watch his tongue fly quickly against you, his own moans echoing yours as you push his face against you, desperately craving more, you don’t quite know in what sense, you just want pleasure, you just want him. You feel yourself gushing around him and you start to feel a little tense. Feeling the change in you, the hand holding yours squeezes, a reassurance. 

He once again happily cleans up after you, muttering unintelligible sweet nothings inside of you as he does. You lock eyes with him again as he resumes sucking on your clit, moving to slide two fingers inside of you. While you certainly feel more full, it doesn’t hurt as much as you were warned it would, thanks to your… Overproduction. Instead, you feel a sensation you’ve never felt before. Stronger than you’ve ever even felt whenever you’ve pleasured yourself. You keen against his fingers, moaning and whining as he gently encourages you, “Fuck, yes, angel, that’s it… Oh, fuck, you’re squeezing around my fingers… Gonna cum all over my fingers, yeah? Do it, baby, cum for me.”

As though working on his actual command, you feel a rush through every nerve in your body, one that pushes its way from your core, spreading along your spine until it arches, across your arms until you’re grabbing the sheets, through your legs until they bend in the air above you. Not wanting to be loud enough to be heard throughout the whole park, you bite through your lip as you let out a long, high-pitched moan throughout your release. 

Tom doesn’t surface for some time as he drinks you in, finally re-emerging with shining lips and wild eyes. Wiping the excess of you off with the back of his hand, he crawls back up your body to kiss you, practically pushing your entire self into the mattress. “God, you are fucking incredible,” he grins against your skin as he moves to kiss your neck, this time just under your other ear.

“I can’t even pretend the same’s not true of you, a certain something’s betrayed me, there,” you joke, and he chuckles under his breath, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Be honest with me, though. It wasn’t… Too much, was it?”

“Not in the slightest, babe,” he whispers into your ear as he presses gentle pecks along your jaw and to your lips. “I’d happily stay down there and eat you out all night long, but…” He pushes himself up to kneeling, palming himself through his boxers as he looks at you hungrily. “I am fucking aching to be inside of you,” he admits. You go to reach out as well, but he bats you away with a soft smirk, “I’m already certain I’m not gonna last long at all, sweets, give me some credit.”

“I don’t care how long you last,” you smile wistfully, watching him climb off you and slide his boxers off, hypnotised by the way his cock springs out as the elastic waistband drags past it.

He glances over as he takes a condom out of his drawer and smirks, “Take a photo, won’t ya, it’ll last longer.” You’d react, but you’re still enamoured watching him roll it down his length.

He gets back onto the bed, lining himself up at you with a look in his eye like he can’t believe it’s finally happening. You feel his tip pressing into you and gasp, your lips forming a near-perfect O before spreading out into a smile. Tom mirrors you as his hands find yours, holding them both just either side of you as he pushes in. You certainly feel the pressure of him sliding in, but it’s far from painful. His eyes study your expression with concern, obviously anticipating you to be in pain as well, but you give him a reassuring smile and a nod as he starts pulling out and pushing himself back inside of you again.

His fingers and his tongue were enough to drive you wild earlier, but nothing on this earth has ever made you feel as good as him thrusting into you. He starts off slow and gentle, but your body yearns for more. As you start to buck your hips up against him, he once again rubs the tip of his nose against yours, stroking his thumbs along the sides of your hands as he shushes you. “Patience, sweets,” he soothes. “We’ve got all summer to fuck like rabbits… But tonight, I just wanna make love to you.”

Too euphoric to filter anything you say now, you breathe out an, “I do.” Tom looks at you, his expression a mixture of deliberation and elation. You beam widely, “You may be a dickhead, but I fucking love you.”

His smile practically touches his ears as he cradles your face with an, “I love you, an’ all, you big twat,” before leaning down to kiss you passionately, moaning against your lips with every thrust. As you lose yourself in the embrace, you feel Tom slip out from you. Again, you start to worry yourself, but Tom’s assuring stroke against your cheek as he simply guides himself back in and returns to kissing you with just as much fervour puts those fears at ease.

You feel the crescendo of another orgasm looming just as Tom’s expression starts to change, as well. Wanting nothing more than to climax alongside him, you try and hurry yourself along a little by rubbing your clit in circles. His pace slows as he watches you, entranced, though your body craves him more than ever. “Fuck, please, Tom, don’t stop,” you whine, and he groans as he resumes rocking his hips into you again.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, you know that?” He asks you breathlessly. “Keep going, baby, keep showing me how you touch yourself, fuck, that’s it.” 

“’M gett- fuck, I’m already close again, Tom,” you moan, and his motions lose any sense of rhythm, just trying desperately to release.

“Me too, sweets, I’m - fuck, I love you,” he groans as he snaps his hips harshly into you. That final press hits just the right spot inside of you and you feel yourself come apart for him yet again, squeezing around him as you ride your second wave of the night.

As you both come down, he presses soft kisses all over your face, down your neck, as far down your chest as he can reach while staying inside you until he finally pulls out. “I’d help you out again, but, uh, I think you’re probably a bit sensitive down there by now,” he grins, leaning up to kiss your forehead. “Let me go get rid of this thing and get you a towel, alright?” Unable to move, talk, or even really think, you simply nod at him, which earns you another breathy chuckle and another peck to the top of your head as he walks off.

He returns within a minute, and insists on gently patting you dry, the tenderness in his eyes matching his touch. You eventually muster enough energy to reach over to him and card your fingers through his curls. He leans into your touch, smiling over at you as you mutter, “I love you, too.”

“D’you know, I’ve never been happier to hear anything else.”

Once you’re all cleaned up, he lays next to you, and you lift yourself up to let his arm rest beneath your head. Curling up against his chest, you let him envelope you, enjoying the comfortable silence until he pipes up, “That was fucking amazing. Like, I knew it’d be good, but… You hear all these things about your first time. And I was always scared with Ruth that I’d mess up somehow, or I’d kill the mood, you know how daft I am. But it was all just… Part of it, weren’t it?”

You press your head into the crook of his shoulder. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I was always scared of the same, and then, well…” You gesture down between your legs.

“’Ey,” Tom scolds, reaching down to grab your wrist. “No more of that. It’s just the way your body works, yeah? And your body is fucking perfect. I’ll never stop proving that to you.”

And he really doesn’t. When you had first disclosed to Hayley that you were a virgin, the previous year when you’d come with your ex, she’d told you, “Sex is like Pringles; once you pop, you just can’t stop. At least, I think that’s the Pringles thing.” You’d always laughed that off, but now that it’s happened to you, it really is true. You wake up to it, you’re at it as soon as he’s finished his shift, just before you go to sleep. And then there’s the rest. Passing him while he’s working to sneakily grab, pinch or slap his ass cheek as you walk past, only for him to get his own back by “innocently cuddling” you from behind while also pressing himself against your own ass just once before placing a single kiss to your neck and running off. Your personal favourite is knowing all you have to do is send him a racy photo of you proving that you’re wearing one of his shirts and nothing else, and knowing that if you look out of the window you’ll see him running across the caravan park at top speed, leaping over any obstacle to then practically fly into his caravan and tackle you onto his bed.

You still try and maintain staying with Hayley for as long as possible, but with her being the evening entertainment, and her telling you that she was banning “all hanky-panky” at her place, that didn’t leave you with much else to do to spend your evenings than to hang out in Tom’s caravan with him, anyway. Not that she minded. Even when she would insist on a you-and-her day, it would mostly be to gossip about Tom, anyway.

There’s a few days when you start to wonder if perhaps Tom only wants you around for sex and nothing else. That all gets easily explained away when eventually Mother Nature clocks in for her monthly shift. You warn Tom that nothing can happen for the next week, and that you’ll probably just stay at Hayley’s again to avoid any stained sheets or exposure to sanitary products, but Tom remains as joined to your hip as ever. He buys heating pads, pain relief, snacks and drinks, extra products, anything you may need, happily letting you curl up in his lap in an attempt to soothe the cramps. A few days in, you even open up to him that you’d had doubts that he was only interested in getting into your pants, which results in many days’ worth of constant reassurance whenever you’re with him and texts of affirmations when you’re not. He certainly doesn’t turn down the gratuitous blowjob you give him as a result of being so patient on a night you know Hayley’s working especially late, though.

The last weekend of the last week of you being in Cornwall hits you like a brick wall. You’re constantly getting emotional, which only spikes every time you so much as look at Hayley or Tom. Tom reminds you that you’ll only see him in a couple of weeks anyway, once you move up north to university. And Hayley makes you both promise you’ll come back to Cornwall at every chance you can.

Tom meets you and your family in the car park of your uni halls, already waiting to help you move in. Both of your families have dinner together while yours are still in town, and as they part, they joke that the next time they’ll see each other is at your wedding. With your ex, even trying to plan to go to the same university together seemed daunting and unnatural. But you laugh along with Tom, safe in the knowledge that your collective parents’ joke is 100% truthful.

Age 19

After a year of university, you decide to move out of your dorm and into a place with Tom. Your first housemate, you love to remind him, though that spikes up a slightly more awkward conversation while cuddled up on the sofa. “So, we were first for a lot of things.”

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of our thing,” Tom teases.

“Piss off,” you scoff, elbowing him in the side as he laughs. “I mean, we were for pretty much everything, but not where it counts. You weren’t my first boyfriend, and I wasn’t your first, either. So, like, in terms of the way our relationship goes on through the years… I dunno, just sucks a bit that that’s like one of the only things we don’t have now.”

Tom deliberates for a second. “The way I like to see it,” he starts. “I consider you my first for a lot of sort of extraneous things, little things that add up to make us, us. But in terms of our relationship, it’s easy enough to explain.” You look over at him in confusion, and he takes the opportunity to take your chin between his finger and thumb to grin at you, pulling you close to mutter three words to you before pressing a long and sweet kiss to your lips: “You’re my only.”

#tom grant #tom grant x reader #tom grant x you #tom grant imagine #tom grant fanfiction #tom grant fanfic #tom grant fic #tom make up #tom make up x reader #tom make up x you #tom make up imagine #tom make up fanfiction #tom make up fanfic #tom make up fic #*myfics #fic: tom g

[codsoup]

A cozy sleepover / Ghost x Soap

Just some tooth rotting fluff, Oh and one small bed 😉

—————

In the heart of their covert base, Soap found himself contemplating a decision that felt both bold and inviting. With determination, he approached Ghost, who was engrossed in reviewing mission reports.

"Hey, Lt," Soap began, his voice carrying a hint of nervous excitement. "I was wondering if you'd be up for a change of scenery tonight?" Ghost looked up, intrigued by the invitation. "What do you have in mind, Soap?"

Soap cleared his throat, a slight blush touching his cheeks. "Well, how about a sleepover? In my room." Ghost's eyes widened in surprise, a rare emotion that played across his usually composed features. "A sleepover?" he repeated, clearly taken aback.

Soap nodded, his grin growing. "Yeah, just friends hanging out, enjoying some downtime." Ghost considered the offer for a moment before a playful smile tugged at his lips. "Alright, Soap. I'm in."

As night fell and the base grew quiet, Ghost found himself standing outside Soap's quarters. He hesitated for a moment, nerves dancing in his stomach, before he knocked on the door. Soap answered with a warm smile, gesturing for Ghost to enter.

The room was small but cozy, the dim lighting casting a soft ambiance. There was a small bed against one wall, neatly made up with two pillows side by side. Ghost couldn't help but chuckle. "A bit of a tight fit, isn't it?"

Soap shrugged with a sheepish grin. "It's cozy."

As the night wore on, they settled in on the small bed, their shoulders brushing against each other. The conversation flowed easily, laughter filling the air as they exchanged stories and shared moments from their pasts. The tension of the battlefield was replaced by an undeniable ease in each other's company.

Ghost, ever observant, noticed the way Soap's gaze lingered on him, the softness in his eyes impossible to ignore. He shifted slightly, their legs tangling beneath the sheets, and Ghost's heart skipped a beat when Soap's hand brushed against his.

Flirting subtly, Soap remarked, "You know, I think you might have taken the 'ghost' thing a bit too far. It's rare to find you in one place for so long. I hope you're not planning to vanish anytime soon."

Ghost chuckled, his fingers playfully tracing patterns on the back of Soap's hand. "Maybe I've finally found a reason to stick around."

In the soft glow of the room, their laughter faded into a comfortable silence. As their eyes met, a shared understanding passed between them. Ghost reached up, his fingers grazing Soap's cheek before gently cupping it. He leaned in, their foreheads touching, and they shared a moment of closeness that needed no words.

"I'm glad you invited me," Ghost admitted softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. Soap's response was a tender forehead kiss,"Me too."

————

Big softies 😌

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost #soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #soap #ghost x soap #soapghost #ghostsoap #sleepover #budding romance #fluff #intimacy #nonsexual intimacy #ghost cod #soap cod #simon riley #friendship #cod modern warfare #soap x ghost #gaz cod #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #soap call of duty #captain price #ghoap #ghoap au #cod #task force 141

[homeybadger]

Forgotten?

Summary: Despite all your research- one question weighs on your mind. You finally decide to do something about it.

Warning(s): Thoughts of a Existential/Religious nature, mainly dealing with the Egyptian Pantheon. Possibly ooc characters. One swear word.

Note(s): The reader can see/hear Khonshu- and I set this up for a part two. This is just a collection of musings I had while thinking about the Moon Knight universe. As of right now, all the knowledge I have of the characters/dynamics comes from the show and a few videos on YouTube.

Was it even possible for a god to get lonely?

You discovered yourself asking this question in your subconscious more and more frequently these days. The deeper you researched, the more texts you uncovered, the more you pestered Steven and Marc and Jake- the further the question burrowed itself into your mind’s eye.

After arriving back from Egypt, your friends wasted no time before telling you all about how amazing everything was. Well- Steven normally gushed about the architecture and overall history of everything, while Marc and Jake were simply happy that Steven was happy. You couldn't blame them, it was obvious they all collected some sort of trauma from their time there, one way or another.

You hadn't even tossed a thought in Khonshu's general direction for weeks, far too occupied with ensuring your friends enjoyed their downtime after such a hectic adventure. Layla and you eventually agreed to rotations while visiting the boys' flat, allowing everyone to spend time together separately. Your arraignments also gave Layla enough space to figure out her new position as an avatar, and some time for Marc, Steven, and Jake to get to know each other. It wasn't until your third week of hanging out with them that you noticed how quiet Khonshu was being.

You'd figured, at the very least, Khonshu would've interjected information throughout Steven's historical monologues. When nothing of the sort occurred, you internally reasoned with yourself that maybe Steven and Khonshu worked something out. So, you turned to Marc and Jake, tossing in questions here and there about what they thought about Egypt and its history. When you noticed Khonshu leave the area, your curiosity rose further. That again, however, much like before, could be simply explained by something you weren't privy to. Maybe he was called away for some deity responsibilities? Or he was interested in doing something else? Maybe he was simply bored?

But then it happened again. Then again, and again. And again.

At this point, Khonshu was leaving even when you simply turned something on the TV about Egypt. A history channel documentary for Steven? Gone. Music for Layla, or simply some background noise? Gone. A video to teach yourself about hieroglyphs? Gone. Discussing Ammit, or her old cult, with Marc or Jake? Gone. Asking Layla about Taweret and their relationship? Gone. Researching about the various Egyptian deities you now knew existed? He was gone significantly faster.

It took the last instance for the puzzle pieces to finally slot together in your mind. The click moment wasn't nearly as satisfying as you'd hoped.

Khonshu was a god. He still is a god. He was openly worshiped- culturally and personally- for nearly 3,000 years at the very least. He received countless prayers, offerings, songs, writings and more from his followers throughout time. Feasts and festivals, holidays and rituals, all in his name. He had hundreds and thousands of people talking to him, about him, with him. There were hieroglyphs and statues etched into stone, religious texts and prayers that survived the aging of time, massive temples created in his name. He used to be able to interact with the other deities as well, others who could connect to and understand his experiences. Now what did he get? Only five people in Europe who knew of his existence?

A desperately far cry from the droves of interactions he used to have.

You could bet that actually going to Egypt, witnessing the statues and pyramids and hieroglyphs, he was curtly reminded of what he no longer had. And fighting with the other gods- especially getting locked away by the Ennead- certainly didn't ease his pain. He was almost forgotten at this point. That would hurt anyone, but unlike you, Khonshu couldn't find a therapist or rant to a friend. Harrow confirmed your suspicions in the beginning- Khonshu went through his days unseen and unheard by almost everyone.

The key word being almost. You weren't completely certain on how to help, but you were determined to try. There was no way you were breaching that conversation with anyone, so you decided to just start small. You branched off from Steven's grocery shopping list one night to grab some nuts and dried fruit- along with some scented candles.

Your head swirled with clashing emotions as you made your way inside of the flat. You ran the risk of angering a deity, or someone finding out and accusing you of trying to gain some kind of favor. That conversation could lead to-

You gently shook your head in an attempt to derail that train of thought. They were all your friends, if anything it would simply be awkward for a few days until everything blew over. Layla swung open the front door moments later, card game in hand, and your worries were forgotten for the night.

The next day, you started out with simply lighting the candles to gauge Khonshu's reactions. You weren't certain what exactly his "tell" would be, but you knew you'd know when he liked something. But, after weeks of swapping through various scents- even going back to the store to get some more- you swore you had to have missed it.

You progressed further, adding some dried fruit or nuts in a small bowl by the candle. Still, nothing. Khonshu still seemed to be silently sulking, but you pressed on. You tried saying the phrase, "This is for you, Khonshu.", either in your head or as a whisper. You tried food without the candle. You read about him and the other deities and further studied the hieroglyphs. You baked bread, went star gazing, thanked him whenever the boys made it home safely, and eventually started praying to him. Hell, you even asked him to play a card game with you at one point. Nothing seemed to help as drastically as you assumed.

But you did notice that Khonshu was beginning to seem somehow nicer, gentler even, if you dared to say it. He slowly began to become more involved in game nights, joking alongside Taweret. He'd point out constellations on clear nights, and you swore you caught him sneaking bread with Marc. The boys even noticed the change in his demeanor, Steven mentioning his lack of "worm" comments recently.

In turn, you discovered yourself actually enjoying the activities you tried out. Your friends actually began participating too. Steven and Layla would spend hours teaching you about Egypt, Marc would sneak into the kitchen to eat your baked goods, and Jake would lie awake with you to watch the stars. Although you didn't tell anyone why you started these hobbies in the first place, they somehow stuck in your everyday life.

You didn't realize how much it truly mattered, until you noticed someone following you home one night.

#khonshu #Khonshu moon knight #moon knight #moon #steven grant #mark spector #jake lockley #layla el faouly #mr. knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x you #mr. knight x reader #mr. knight x you #mr. knight x y/n #Khonshu x reader #moon knight universe #egypt #egyptian pantheon #egyptian paganism #textpost #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fandom #kemetism #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #mark spector x reader #marc spector #Layla el faouly moon knight #Layla faouly

[secret-rendezvous1d]

So that pic of H in a cafe in Paris - imagine him, the missus and little bubs in a high chair enjoying just a bite to eat and bubs just making hand gestures for more food that Harry is helping her with 🥺

i wanna experience paris with harry :(((( changed a little but still the same, kind of.

the weather was warm and the sunshine gave a flush feeling upon her bare ankles as it peeked just beneath the awning of the quaint little parisian cafe hidden down the alley beside their hotel.

the faint sounds of passing traffic filled the silence, the dinging of the bells on a cyclists bike as they cycled by on the quiet street she was overlooking from the window seat she had chosen to perch down at.

the smell of baked goods filled the air and made yn's stomach rumble low in her belly as she waiting for harry to come back with the tray of coffees and cakes.

people were passing by and she could see that they'd realised herself, and harry, were on a wander around the city. she could hear the gentle whispers and the cooing as fans watched harry kiss the head of the little newborn baby girl, who was strapped to his front in the papoose he'd insisted on trying out for once, at the counter of the cafe.

she smiles at those who smile at her, waves to the ones who wave at her, but she never lifts herself from her seat in hopes that they would understand they were having a moment to themselves, as a family, before he was back to the work, on stage, that evening for his paris show. that the small number of people that were queuing up to see him outside of the coffee shop, no doubt, were going to. her phone becoming something of a distraction as she waited for harry to pay up at the till.

"chocolate croissant and a hot mocha for my lady," he hums softly, not to disturb the settled (but still wide-awake) baby pressed to his chest and taking in the surroundings that she could see, "and a tart for myself. their iced coffees are good here, didn't fancy one?"

"haven't had a mocha in a long while, tickled my fancy when i saw it on the board outside," yn grins, helping take the tray from his hands so he could sit down comfortably, and she can tell he's trying to not notice the fans but she knows the excited feeling they're experiencing, "it's okay, h."

he acknowledges those who had come to see him, says hello, but politely declines to have photos taken as he just wanted to spend his afternoon not being followed or photographed with his little family. and soon after, they leave. smiling widely at just even seeing him in the moment of his downtime life.

"i know it's not something you enjoy but, they were sweet," yn smiles, watching as the girls gush to each other about what they'd all just experienced. his eyes were just focused on his little baby - someone, out of the three of them, who had no idea who he was in the public eye and was just her dad. "it's okay to deal with it like that. i know you. you feel guilty you haven't people pleased."

"shut up," he snorts softly, a smile on his lips, situating himself in his seat and pressing a kiss to seff's soft tufts of hair, "i'm forever thankful for what they've given me but, at the moment, time and a place. i'm with you, i'm with seff, i'm happy and i just want to experience it with you. not everyday we get to be in paris, the three of us, drinking coffees and eating french pastries."

"you're such a soppy bugger," she giggles, "but you're my soppy bugger."

"always," he smirks, lifting up the plastic cup fills to the brim with his iced coffee, taking a sip through the straw and swallowing it, the ice cold on his teeth but the caffeine almost instantly coursing through his body, "happy with your mocha or? i see you eyeing this up."

"i might get one to go," she nods, taking a sip from her cup, "it's a good mocha, too. good coffee all round." xx

#harry talk #harry styles imagines

[callsign-rockstar]

I do - N. Bradshaw

After a couple years of being engaged, Y/n and Nick Bradshaw were finally getting married. Even though the proposal had taken place years before the wedding, there was one more thing Nick had to say "I do" to on the day-of :)

a/n: sorry again for being so inactive!! this was a request and so is dedicated to @fandomstanner24 who requested it. I really hope y'all enjoy it, (stop reading this a/n if u dont wanna know what the surprise is, keep reading if u do) and if you want to know what y/n asks goose at the end/what the surprise was it's that she's preggers again :,).

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Opening her eyes, Y/n registered that today was different. She wasn’t waking up by her fiancé’s side. She was not, however, alone in her hotel bed. Her best friend, Penny, was waking up next to her, eyes sparkling while she was thinking about the day ahead. She shot up like a spring and shook y/n fully awake.

“Come on, y/n/n, we have to get you ready!”, Penny said.

“We can stay here for like, 5 more minutes, you know? We’re supposed to be up at 7 and its like, 6:30.”, replied y/n.

“Why am I more excited about this wedding than you are? Are you getting cold feet?”, asked Penny with mock concern. She grabbed her best friend and looked her in the eyes.

“If you want to ditch, I can be your getaway driver”, said Penny. And although it was a joke, somewhere in the back of her eyes, y/n knew Penny was more than willing to run away with her.

But y/n didn’t want that. Although she was nervous, she wanted to marry Nick Bradshaw more than anything she had ever wanted in this lifetime. 

“Shut up, Penny! I promise we’ll still be as close as we are now, if that’s what you’re worried about.”, replied y/n smiling and sitting up. 

Penny smiled and gave her best friend a hug, whispering in her ear that she loved her.

Neither of the expected to cry until the wedding itself, but on days like these emotions are running high. So, at 6:35 am, they were crying in each others arms.

They had been through everything together, and Penny could not be happier that her best friend was finally getting married to Goose. She knew they were soulmates, and she wasn’t worried about her friendship with Y/n because they were more than friends, they were sisters and twin flames. And nothing could ever take that away from them.

Both women got up and went downstairs for an early breakfast alone. They knew that this was probably one of the last moments they’d get to be alone together considering the day, so they enjoyed every last bit. The rest of the bridal party was supposed to get up at 7:00 like they had planned but quiet downtime was much appreciated. When they were done, they got to relax for a while up in their room. 

“I’m nervous, Penny. I have to call my parents and ask about Bradley. I miss him a lot and I want to know if he’s ok.”, said y/n, already dialing her parents’ house phone number into the hotel’s.

“Honey, I get it, getting married is big and nerve wracking. But I’m sure Bradley is perfectly fine! In fact, I bet he’s still asleep”, says Penny.

“Hi mom! Sorry for calling so early, I just wanna know how Bradley is.,” said y/n.

“He’s doing great princess. He just woke up, actually, do you wanna say hi?”, said y/n’s mom through the phone.

“Yes!”, exclaimed the bride-to-be.

“Hi mommy!”, said Bradley.

“Hi, honey. Have you had fun with your grandparents?” Asked y/n.

“Yes! We played with my toys and then we…”

Bradley proceeded to tell his mom about the time they’d been apart. Truthfully, he sounded like a big kid, despite only having turned 4 years old. It made y/n tear up a little bit, and it also brought back memories of when he was born. Nick had proposed to her only a couple weeks before they found out she was pregnant, and when they found out they figured they would rather focus all their energy into the baby and making sure y/n had the best pregnancy possible than to split the efforts between that and the wedding. That’s why it had been pretty much 5 years and they hadn’t gotten married yet.

But it was finally the day and they couldn’t be more excited.

Neither of the women knew, but Maverick and Goose were both asleep in their own hotel room, snoring the morning away. Nick woke up before his best friend, appreciating a second alone before Pete woke up. 

He sat with his feet on the floor, breathing in and out slowly and feeling the morning chill in the dark room. He drew the curtains slowly and stood right next to the window, observing the streets below. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. Everything was still for a fleeting moment, until he felt Maverick’s hand on his back.

“Ready, Goose?”, asked maverick.

“I’ve been ready this whole time,” answered Goose, with a smile on his face.

By 11:00, the bridal party was out of the hotel and at the venue: a beautiful botanical garden with a seaside view. The group consisted of Y/n, Penny who was the maid of honor, 3 other bridesmaids, Y/n’s mother, and the makeup and hair stylists. There was also the photographer who was doing her best to capture every moment that they would want to remember in 10, 20, 30… years time.

Bradley was in neither party, being carried around the venue back and forth between the guys and the women, but he was happy to be the center of attention wherever he went.

The day seemed to be both passing as quickly as water might slip through one’s fingers and as slow as a snail. One might say that 11:00 was early to get to the venue, but with weddings one can never be too early. By 2:00, almost everything was in order, and everyone was having lunch. The wedding planner was running around, trying to get every last detail right. She was making sure not one flower was out of place, that the band were where they had to be, that the sound system was in order and everything in between.

There was one more surprise that y/n and her best friend had to finish working out. One that not even Penny knew until a few hours before they came to the venue, but the reveal would have to wait until after the ceremony itself.

The guests were arriving at 3:00 and everything was exactly on schedule, with the wedding supposed to start at 3:30. Even though Y/n and her fiancé weren’t exactly the most traditional couple, they had been told by his mother to set the ceremony on the half hour mark, because that way their wedding would begin on the upswing as the minute hand on the clock was going up as well.

30 minutes later and everything was right where it needed to be. Y/n was still in the parlor, touching up her lipstick when her dad walked through the door. The room was silent, but there was a lot of love filling in the blanks that the quiet left open.

The man smiled at her daughter who always looked like a princess, but even more so in her gown. She looked like more than a princess, like an angel, he thought. She was perfect and he began to cry even before the ceremony started. Behind him was her mother, who shared her husband’s thoughts. She was getting teary eyed as well and both of them practically ran up to their beautiful daughter and hugged her tight.

Y/n wanted both of her parents to walk her down the aisle, she wanted to feel both of them next to her. The trio cried a little bit, but then y/n opened her trembling lips.

“Ok, we really have to stop crying. I can’t even imagine how bad it’s gonna get during the actual ceremony,” she laughed.

“Oh honey, we love you so much,” said her mother, as both parents kissed their daughter’s cheek.

“We better get going,” said her dad, as he heard the guests quieting down when the piano began.

“I know. But I have one more thing to tell you both…”

The ceremony began with Rooster and Maverick walking down the aisle together, the biggest smiles on both their faces. Then came the bridesmaids and the groomsmen, arms linked. Then came Penny, already tearing up and sniffling her way down. Even so, she had a smile on her face that could light up a room.

Little Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (because yes, his father and uncle had already come up with a call sign for him) was walking down the aisle right before the flower girl with the rings for his parents. Everyone looked at him with endeared looks on their faces, because no one could resist “aweing” at a child as cute as him. He proudly walked down that aisle, with a smile on his face and his tiny chest puffed out.

It was a mystery to the guests why the bride and her parents already seemed to have cried as they walked down the aisle, and a lot. But, the bride looked beautiful and not one eye was dry.

Though it was supposed to be Mr. and (almost) Mrs. Bradshaw’s day, Bradshaw Jr. stole the show with his complete awe and admiration towards his mother. He stood there with his little jaw hanging wide open, and everyone laughed. But when everyone was looking at him, Nick only had eyes for Y/n. She was sparkling, gleaming, floating down that aisle. She was an angel come down from heaven. She was perfect, even when se cried she was flawless and he couldn’t help but cry as soon as he saw her.

The wedding continued and then the vows came. And finally, the I dos.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may-” and the officiator was cut off, because Nick was already dipping his bride to kiss her.

Everyone cheered and the celebration began. 

One of the reasons they had decided to get married in the afternoon was so they could have the best lighting for pictures: golden hour. The photographer had spent all day trying to find the perfect spot for pictures because the goal was to capture both the plants and the beach in the background. The gardens were full of life, breathing and the plants were letting the sun bathe them in what looked like molten gold. The pictures began with only the couple in the frame, then with their son, and their parents and friends, etc. After about 30 minutes, they had gotten enough pictures to remember the day by, and everyone was going toward the large tent where the dance floor was and their tables, too.

“Alright, one more picture,” said the photographer. This time, it was just the newlyweds in the frame like they started. 

“Ok, I want you to face away from each other and I’ll let you know when you can turn around. That way we can get a picture where everything looks dynamic and lively. These kinds of shots are great to make the pictures look like they’re almost moving,” instructed the photographer, winking at the bride.

Y/n was smiling so wide that it was hard to hide from her husband, but she knew holding back would be worth it for the surprise she’d been planning all day.

Once Nick was facing away from his wife, y/n got down on one knee, carefully arranging her dress so it would get caught beneath her. Penny came running to hand her the supplied necessary for the surprise and then ran away as quickly as she came back.

“You can turn around now,” said the photographer.

Goose looked down in confusion at his wife.

“Didn’t we already do this, love?” he asked.

“Nick Bradshaw, will you honor me by being the most wonderful father in the universe one more time?”, asked y/n, the biggest smile on her face and handing him a positive pregnancy test and a baby onesie.

The photographer was clicking away on the camera and all of their family and friends were already gathering around, cheering.

“Of course I will, I do!”, he exclaimed, picking his wife up and kissing her. His face was filled with pure love and admiration, the feeling of pure excitement filling him as he imagined his growing family. Bradley came up to his parents, having to be explained that he would be a big brother in about 9 months :)

#nick bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #nick bradshaw x reader #nick bradshaw x y/n #goose bradshaw #goose x reader #top gun #rocky loves her followers #call sign rockstar #top gun 1986

[onegianthotmess]

Headcanons For Jane

I’ve been wanting to do this for a while so let’s go!!

Here is the post where I introduced Jane and showed what she looked like: Jane.

Also, I know that @queengiuliettafirstlady is a bit curious about Jane! I’d like to clarify that she is my OC as @natimiles informed you and that there will be a happy ending with her and Theo, just give me a little bit, please! But, in the meantime, you can enjoy these random headcanons that are canon because Jane is my OC/baby and I love her!!!

Jane is Comte’s first daughter, so obviously she’s a bit spoiled in the beginning

Not in a bad way, more so Comte just goes a bit nuts and almost buys all of the women’s clothing in Paris when he brings Jane home, but Leonardo stops him because he doesn’t want the mansion to overflow with gowns and take up his napping spots or for Jane to be overwhelmed

And yes, Leonardo also unofficially adopts Jane and gives her daily headpats because I said so

Jane is incredibly grateful to have been given a second life, but it has led her to question things

She was a devout Catholic while human, but she was confused on what to do with her beliefs when she’d been given an impossible second chance

So, after much contemplation, Jane did decide to remain Catholic in terms of beliefs, but not as devoutly as when she was human because her second life as a vampire has given her a new perspective on things

Jane is often compared to Vincent in personality and none of those comparisons are incorrect

Historically, Jane Seymour was actually called a peaceful angel while in court and was known to be one of, if not the most, beloved queen that ruled during King Henry VIII’s reign

So it makes sense her personality would stay the same even after becoming a vampire

In fact, the reason she wanted to continue living was to help children, even though she couldn’t raise her own son

So, yes, she is often compared to Vincent in terms of being an angel, but her and Vincent don’t see how they’re similar to each other and it’s so cute!!!

Jane only knew English while she was alive and had to learn Modern English from Comte, so when she started dating Theo, Arthur tried to learn Dutch swear words so he could tell Jane to say them to Theo as “terms of endearment”

But, before Arthur could do that, Vincent began to teach Jane Dutch without Theo knowing so she could surprise him

Jane is a very good cook and actually surprised Sebastian the first night she was there because she started cooking dinner way before Sebastian and was about halfway done with the meal when Sebastian walked in

Needless to say Sebastian was both bewildered and very interested by this and started scribbling in his notebook that Jane Seymour was an exceptional cook

Jane will also sit down and knit, crochet, or sew with Sebastian when he gets some downtime and she usually mends his suits if a tear is ever on them

Sebastian’s notebook is getting a nice section on Jane Seymour’s hobbies

Jane loves birds and her pet dove Enid was actually a gift given to her by Shakespeare as a thank you for her sewing some costumes for him for a play he was putting on

And Theo doesn’t like that Enid was from Shakespeare, but Jane loves Enid and sees Will as a nice person and good friend, so he stays quiet

Jane likes to watch Vincent paint and she usually tells him when it’s time to eat and when it’s time for him to go to bed

Jane is actually the only person King doesn’t knock over when he sees and is always gentle with Jane, which pisses Theo off a bit but he also thinks it’s cute as fuck-

When Jane feels restless, she will clean and organize things around the mansion

She’s reorganized the library so many times that it’s literally impossible to not find a book within thirty to sixty seconds, if you know what you’re looking for

Jane will occasionally go into town to help teach children with Napoleon and Isaac

It usually takes a minute for Jane to wake up, so Theo usually has to help her get dressed and occasionally has to help her with her hair if she’s that sleepy

Despite being a queen while human, Jane can be very naive and believes a lot of what Arthur and Dazai say if someone doesn’t immediately stop them or tell her otherwise

And yes, she’s fallen for this plenty of times

She’s the baby girl of the mansion, leave her alone-

Jane has days where she can faint very easily and she has done this while out helping Theo with his work

The first time this happened, Theo rushed her to the hospital and was panicking internally the whole time

And when Jane woke up with instructions from the doctor to go home and rest and drink a lot of water, Theo went with her and didn’t leave her side the rest of the day

When Leonardo and Arthur were asked to see if anything was wrong with Jane after multiple fainting spell days happening, Leonardo and Arthur eventually came to the conclusion that, because Jane’s death and final days had such a massive toll on her body, it affected her even after becoming a vampire

Leonardo and Arthur advised her to try and watch for signs of feeling weak or faint within herself to see if she needed to stay home so that her bedroom wasn’t too far to carry her to if she fainted and another resident found her

Luckily, these fainting spell days are usually few and far between and rarely even happen once a month most of the time

When Jane was dying of postpartum complications, she’d gotten an infection in her eyes from a remedy one of the doctors had given her and it damaged her eyes to the point of her needing glasses

For the first two to three months of Jane’s new life as a vampire, she needed to be guided around the mansion because her eyesight was awful and she needed to wait for Comte to take her to an optometrist to settle a prescription for her and get her glasses made before she could walk around the mansion freely

And during those first two to three months, Jane had broken a few things around the mansion while left alone and wandering the halls and after she got her glasses, she apologized profusely for the damages she’d caused

Occasionally, Jane and Arthur will mix up their glasses and Arthur has to go and find Jane to give her her glasses back as quickly as possible before she breaks something and feels guilty about it

All of the mansion pets have at least a slight fondness for Jane, but the birds, Brush, King, Vic, and Chérie all really like her in particular

Vic actually almost prefers Jane to Arthur and it makes Arthur really jealous because Vic is meant to be his dog and love him

But Arthur feels better after Jane reassures him that Vic still loves him before handing him his precious pup to go and play with King for a bit, who was getting jealous of the attention Vic was getting

Arthur and Jane are very good friends, with Jane almost acting motherly in a way towards Arthur and Arthur just being the flirt he is while also being nice and a gentleman to Jane because she’s a babie who must be protected

Jane actually has a great knowledge on the language of flowers and their properties, from medicinal uses to poisons, she knows almost everything about flowers, even some things Leonardo doesn’t know

Jane has always wanted to go to the beach, but she never really could in her life as a human due to being a lady-in-waiting, then a queen who was pressured to produce a male heir who eventually died after giving birth

Also, she can’t swim-

Jane makes Sebastian take breaks from housework and takes care of it herself

She will cook and clean and do the laundry and have it all done all before Sebastian arrives, thus forcing him to take a day off

Jane enjoys taking walks and usually has someone accompany her, which is usually Arthur and Theo

Arthur occasionally goes out to the bar alone with Jane and challenges her to a drinking contest, which usually ends in Theo being called down to carry his drunk wife back to the mansion and makes sure a tipsy Arthur is alright to be left by himself long enough for Leonardo to come down and eventually carry him back home

Jane gets unusually hungry while drunk and she’ll usually ask Theo if they can go get pancakes while he carries her back home

Jane is allowed to drink with anyone except Jean because of how they both get easily wasted and so they need someone else to watch over them so they don’t get themselves killed or do something worse while drunk

Jane and Vincent often go to Shakespeare’s villa together so that they can have tea with him and talk

They occasionally bring Brush and Enid along with them and both of their pets love both Shakespeare and Puck

Puck is a bit iffy on Vincent, but he LOVES Jane and doesn’t focus on giving Vincent half of an evil eye because he’s too busy getting pets from Jane when they visit

Jane has made winter scarves for everyone in the mansion, Shakespeare, and even the vampires in the castle

Jane met Vlad on the street as he was packing up his little flower cart one evening because she was waiting for Theo and Arthur, and Vlad took a liking to Jane and gave her a few free flowers from the selection he had left

Vlad thinks Jane reminds him of an innocent little girl and finds her cute, so he usually gives her a few free flowers whenever he sees her

And it makes Theo jealous whenever Jane tells him about “the very nice man with strawberry eyes” who occasionally gives her a few free flowers because….it’s Theo and Theo doesn’t like to share his precious and innocent little hondje

And Jane makes pancakes for Theo whenever he’s jealous to help him calm down and to reassure him that no one else will ever catch her eye except for him

Pancakes and a night of cuddling usually does the trick to make Theo feel better and Jane is always happy to oblige

Jane does try to limit Theo’s sugar intake, like giving him the option of letting her pour his syrup on his pancakes or having no syrup at all

It usually works, but sometimes Theo is sneaky and swipes the syrup bottle to put more on his pancakes when Jane isn’t looking

Jane usually instates herself as Sebastian’s replacement and caretaker whenever he gets sick, despite his objections

Even though Jane usually tries to take care of any one of the residents when they get sick because she doesn’t like to see them unwell

Jane loves going to the park and will take Enid with her so she can fly around

Jane actually met Charles at one of her visits to the park and asked if she could visit him at his home so she could get to know him better and meet his friends that he lives with

And that’s what led Jane to visit the castle and meet Faust for the first time and figure out who Vlad is

And Theo does not like Faust

Why?

Because Faust finds Jane interesting, very interesting and just gives Theo a bad vibe

Meanwhile Jane likes him because he doesn’t seem that bad and she finds him funny

Also everyone added Vlad to the “Don’t Let These People Drink Alone No Matter The Cost” list with Jane and Jean due to his zero tolerance for alcohol

Seriously, don’t let them drink alone together without at least one other person or someone is going to die or something weird is gonna happen

They all woke up hungover in Vlad’s flower garden once and flowers were on fire, there was a bear sleeping with them, Marshmallow was trying to get past Cherie to gnaw on Jean’s leg, Enid was asleep on Jane’s head, Vlad was hanging upside down in a tree, a pot of boiling water was in a rose bush, Jean’s eyepatch was missing, and Jane was using Vlad’s black cloak as a blanket

Yeah, Charles had to clean that up and Faust had to take care of Vald, Jean, and Jane while they were all hungover before Jean and Jane could go home the next day

Comte was freaking out about where his favorite most lightweight went for the three days they were gone

Vincent had to calm down Theo and assure him Jane was fine, but it didn’t really fully work until Jane was home

Jane has a mouse/kitten sneeze

The first time she sneezed at breakfast, everyone looked at her because they never thought she could get any softer or cuter, but they were very wrong

Children love her a lot, she’s like a magnet for kids

When she goes with Theo to take King to the park, children usually come up to her to tell her she’s pretty or to invite her for a game of hide and seek

And babies somehow calm instantly when she holds them

Jane is just really good with kids

Jane was worried about Vincent not having a bed and became even more worried when he said it was fine because he had his couch to sleep on

And Jane couldn’t let that happen, so she talked with Comte and made sure Vincent got a bed put in his room

She even set up some tarps to act as curtains around the bed so that the pillows, blankets, and sheets would be safe from any possible stray bits of paint that would possibly be splattered around in cast of an accident

Jane usually makes Vincent take breaks from painting because she worries about him and they usually make flower crowns together or they go and visit Shakespeare

They make flower crowns for Shakespeare and Puck, too along with their own respective pets

Jane has made flower crowns for Theo and King as well, which makes Theo embarrassed and shy and King very happy because he looks even cuter and eventually gets a snack when the flower crown falls off his head

For Christmas one year, Jane made everyone a special embroidered decorative pillow, even Shakespeare and the castle boys

Theo’s had a golden retriever on it, Arthur’s had a magnifying glass on it, Leonardo’s had tools on it, Jean’s had a tiger on it, Vincent’s had a sunflower on it, Napoleon’s had a sword/rapier on it, Isaac’s had a stack of books with an apple on it, Dazai’s had a book and pen on it, Mozart’s had a violin on it, Sebastian’s had a lamb on it, Comte’s had an hourglass on it, Will’s had symbols for his three most popular plays on it, Faust’s had a monkey on it, Charles’s had resurrection lilies on it, and Vlad’s had strawberries on it

Jane spent about a year and a half planning, researching, and gathering supplies for those pillows before she actually spent another year making the pillows before putting them in nice boxes with wrapping and bows and tags and a hand written card in each to everyone for how grateful she was to have them in her life and that they could do what they wished with their gift

Everyone was very touched by Jane’s dedication to just one gift and they all keep their handmade pillows out on display because they deserve to be seen

Yeah, needless to say that Jane is the queen of going above and beyond for handmade gifts, and just gifts in general

Any holiday involving the giving of gifts, Jane is on top of those gifts, which she planned months in advance for

She’s also the queen of arts and crafts, Sebastian being an extremely close second to her

Jane has made new collars and leashes for both King and Vic because she saw that the ones they had were getting pretty old and worn out

She even made a little harness and leash for Comte’s precious ferret, Thyme

When Jane told Theo she loved him in semi broken Dutch, Theo eased up as best he could on his swearing so that he had less of a chance of his sweet hondje learning any sort of bad language, especially from him

Arthur received many death threats just in case he decided to corrupt Jane’s pure and innocent, and definitely a bit naive, mind

Because Arthur is…well, Arthur

One time Jane accidentally broke her finger on a door and started crying, Theo nearly ripped the door she broke her finger on off its hinges and used it as firewood

He would have, too, if Vincent and Comte weren’t holding him back

Overall, Jane is a sweet babie who could make even the most stone faced serial killer melt with a single kitten sneeze and I love her

(A/N: I got the divider from @firefly-graphics, if you wanted to know or if they wanted to receive credit in this post because I used one of their divider graphics! Either way, go look at some of their stuff because the graphics are really nice!!)

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire jane #ikevamp jane #ikemen vampire oc #ikevamp oc

[tiredassmage]

@captainderyn: #wait dot Tyr has a bladesmithing hobby tell more?

I... forgor I have probably only directly said this to Joel and maybe only hinted at it in tags sometimes, lol. But uhh! Yea! For a while, my Selected Streaming was whatever seasons of Forged in Fire were available on said streaming service - which to save the unfamiliar a quick google search is, in short, a bladesmithing competition show where four competitors compete in three rounds of bladesmithing, typically with an elimination in each round - ultimately with two competitors recreating an assigned historical weapon with a winner determined through various weapons tests. It's not a hobby I could ever say I'd pick up myself, but it's very interesting to see the craftsmanship and the process and so, as one does when one has blorbo brain... I decided that was a fun thing to pick up and run with.

There's been idle jokes of Alliance Jenga nights and the like because I imagine Tyr's... hands on, typically. He likes to do things, keep his hands occupied - a softer transference of his training primarily as an operative. And I figure as weapon maintenance is already important to him and his work as a Cipher... given the opportunity, it's a process he'd enjoy learning about.

So, in short, knifemaking is a hobby he explores in what downtime he finds as Alliance Commander - primarily through the blacksmiths and other such trades that come to partner with the Alliance over time. Tyr generally keeps relatively quiet about it. Forging is several hours he can get to himself and just kind of tune the world out, physically working on something that can require some problem solving that... occasionally helps him sort through the shit in his head, too.

Anyway! That's how Tyr picks up bladesmithing as a sort of... soft retirement hobby. He gets interested chatting up a couple Alliance personnel, ends up asking them some questions, and learning from some of them. While I imagine he typically makes blades with the intention to see them used, him and Izvoye (@hyrohkaah) have gotten lost in some historical records at times trying to parse together historical techniques. (And as a lil bonus, part of his proposal to her in their lil 'verse together is forging a ceremonial blade for her that leans a bit more heavier into artistic and craftsmanship techniques and skills than the kind of blades he tends to use as an agent.)

#dot talk #ch: tyr #there's also his side hobby tweaking with speeders but that's most heavily prominent in trooper edition #where bladesmithing is sort of his. staple activity for post-agenting #and then. ofc. hyrohtyr edition... he ends up teaching one of their daughters - kas - how to and gains a lil forging partner in her #which bonus bonus: a joke about a watermelon print pencil as a gift from hyroh led us into the idea of tyr keeping a well-organized #well-labeled shop partially just bc that's. smart organization but also bc it does benefit him generally to have an organized space #esp under high stress and given the. whole history of the castellans it. helps to have a place he Expects to leave something #so he's less at risk of misplacing things #explains one thing and then drops like 3 others in the tags i guess kadnlfndsalfds

[gumnut-logic]

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Virgil ducked a fist aimed at his head, grabbed the guy around the belly and flipped him face-first into a wall.

“I dunno! Maybe I wasn’t?” Gordon darted out of the way of his own opponent’s fist.

Virgil grabbed a woman’s dropped scarf from a nearby table, his fingers brushing against broken glass. He shook the material and more glass tinkled to the equally strewn floor. The man in his other hand writhed and attempted to kick him in the shins with the heel of his boot. Virgil just shoved him harder into the wall.

Twisted scarf made excellent restraints, particularly when looped into a chair which was conveniently bolted to the floor.

It was a bar. It was supposed to be a quiet night with Gordon. A couple of brothers shooting the breeze after a hard day at work. It wasn’t often they got to sit down for a moment, have a meal and just talk.

There had been a false alarm. A reported mine collapse that hadn’t been as serious as suspected and after three earlier rescues in that day, Virgil had called a halt and invited Gordon out for dinner.

His fish brother had looked at him somewhat strangely for all of two seconds and then enthusiastically accepted.

Stashing Two at the nearest GDF base, donning casual clothes, they’d borrowed a car, driven into town, and after a couple of personal errands, found a decent looking bar and ordered steak and a couple of beers.

It had been really good. It wasn’t often that they got time to just relax and enjoy each other’s company.

The alcohol had been minimal as technically they were still on call. Gordon had a quite long and persuasive discussion with John as to whether he should drop down and join them.

John politely declined.

Gordon threatened his tribble collection.

John threatened a fish tank or two.

Gordon threatened a telescope.

John threatened to tell Penelope about Gordon’s fangirly underwear collection.

Virgil stepped in before Gordon exploded.

As it was, the couple one table over were staring over their shoulders at the two guys apparently arguing with their collars.

John was wrestled into a promise of some downtime day after next and asked to tally it up with the rest of the brothers as a family get together.

All was good and well and enjoyable.

Until they walked into the bar.

It wasn’t a rough bar. In fact, it showed signs of families visiting during the day and had a few older folks out the back playing the slot machines.

But every community had this type and every community had to handle their bullshit.

Five of them in total. Two of them decided to harass a woman sitting by herself at the bar. Gordon happened to be ordering some mineral water to follow up on their beers at the time and, of course, he stepped in.

And this was the result.

Of course, the entire situation split the bar into three camps – the Tracy side, the annoyance side, and the innocent bystanders who just wanted a quiet meal at the pub.

Virgil had a foot each in the first and last camps.

But he was a Tracy and a guy built even bigger than Virgil loomed over Gordon with all the signs of intending to smush his brother.

While Gordon was quite capable of wiping the floor clean with the guy’s head, Virgil hadn’t been comfortable with the four others paying far too much attention to the matter.

So, he had swallowed the last of his beer and, putting the glass down, wandered over to stand beside his shorter brother.

Now, Virgil wasn’t particularly tall, but where Gordon’s swimmer’s strength was mostly hidden by his shirt, Virgil’s heavy lifting strength most certainly wasn’t.

The loomer eyed Virgil with a little more respect, but unfortunately the man’s height must have outpaced his IQ, because he didn’t back down.

He had far too much confidence in his buddies.

Loomer threw a punch and Gordon educated him in WASP fighting techniques.

It was a very short lesson.

Virgil took on the four who didn’t like that.

God bless his wonderful sister for all that training, sans coffee at five in the morning or not.

Gordon finished off Loomer and took on two of the guys Virgil had been dancing  with.

From then on it had been dodge and attempt to restrain. Virgil had no interest in causing injury, he just wanted to contain the idiots.

They didn’t seem to want to comply.

So, there were bruises and broken furniture.

Virgil felt sorry for the bar owner. No doubt Tracy money would be fixing a few things. Scott was not going to be impressed.

Virgil walked up behind a guy who had thought it would be fun to team up with Gordon’s opponent in a semi-coordinated attack. He didn’t bother hitting the man, he just grabbed an arm and yanked. Spinning him around he used another convenient wall to bring his attack to a very abrupt halt.

The man’s language was explicit and quite offensive.

“Okay, now break it up.” Several police officers walked into the bar.

Gordon’s opponent was already on the floor. The aquanaut held both of his hands up and backed up to show he was no threat.

Virgil had to keep a hold of his still profane antagonist, so he was only able to hold up one hand.

A gun clicked. “Let the man go.”

A frown and Virgil did as he was asked, holding up his remaining hand.

Foul Mouth spun around and before the police officer could react, planted his fist in Virgil’s cheek bone.

“Hey!” And there were suddenly police everywhere. Hands grabbed Virgil as he attempted to shake the stars from his eyesight.

Goddamn, that hurt.

“We’re the victims here. He’s my brother, let him go!”

Blinking, he tried to straighten, but his arms were wrenched behind his back and handcuffed.

His head spun.

“Do you have any idea of who we are?!”

Gordon, shut up or we’ll be on the networks within minutes.

Then Scott would be really pissed.

Virgil wilted in the grip of the men holding him.

His brother was going to be apoplectic.

-o-o-o-

Reactions

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #nuttyfic reblog #was thinking of writing a scene and then realised i already had #I'm going to reread this one in bed

[rainbowsky]

Hello there, I’m a new turtle and I want to ask if it’s always this quiet whenever GG is filming a drama, I mean in terms of his other activities (going to events, shows etc.)? I guess I was hoping to catch him in a live event or something. I read that in the previous years he attended one of the new year’s eve celebrations but not 2022’s. Hope to see him perform live soon. I love when he sings.

Enjoy reading your blog, thank you.

Hi new turtle! 💛🐢💛

Thanks for your kind words, I'm glad you're enjoying my blog! 😊

I understand your feeling. I've been missing him too. I know a lot of people are. Often with both GG and DD it's very 'feast and famine'. We'll go through periods of time where we hardly see them and then suddenly one or the other of them will have a ton of appearances or projects airing. I trust this will happen with GG.

I do miss seeing him perform live, I miss his healing voice. I miss the appearances and photo sets. I miss seeing him on the red carpet. I miss, I CRY, I DIE, not hearing his voice or seeing him sing.

It's definitely not 'normal', how little we've seen of him in those contexts lately. I can't help but feel the elephant in the room is growing bigger each day. There are a lot of theories why he's been so scarce, but ultimately no one knows for sure.

I think the fact that he has recorded material that hasn't been aired (I'm thinking of the leaked festival gala recording here), implies that he is at least being invited and intends to make those kinds of appearances, but for some reason it doesn't reach the final product.

If he's being invited, if he's accepting, if he's recording the material and it doesn't end up airing, there aren't many areas left where that could be breaking down. It's unlikely he would change his mind about appearing and ask for his performance to be pulled from final airing. It seems unlikely production would not want to air something they've already fully recorded and edited.

That leaves censorship and official approval, which to me seems the most likely area where this is breaking down. It's a big part of why I get so pissed off about bad fan behavior. Officials have made it clear that they will hold stars accountable for fan behavior, so it's critically important that fans behave well.

He's obviously not banned or cancelled, but there's plenty of grey area where he could be falling through the cracks - where his ability to do certain things or appear at certain events could be curtailed. He could have been made aware - or have decided for himself - that he must lie low given the climate he's in.

Ultimately we really don't know why GG isn't appearing at galas and events like he used to, but I don't buy that it's because he no longer wants to sing or perform live, or that he's 'focusing on acting' or whatever the line is people keep giving. I get that he might want to pull away from the idol thing a bit, but that wouldn't prevent him from doing the kind of performances he's given in the past.

He loves singing, he does it everywhere he goes. He does it in the car, he does it during his downtime between scenes or at photo shoots, etc. etc. He loves the stage. He performed songs in college before he ever entered the industry. It's his first love. So (AFAIAC) of course he wants to give us more of that.

I trust that we will see him perform again, but who knows how long we will have to wait? In the meantime I will just patiently trust that he's doing what's best for his career, and I will enjoy what he does bring us. And I will continue to have faith that he will bring us more when the time is right for him.

As a new turtle you might also find my masterlist post helpful.

#singer gg #ggdd controversies #fandom reflections #ask

[writing-funsies]

OP characters with artist s/o P.3

p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5 | p.6

pairings: Kid x reader, Killer x reader, Law x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, cursing, brief mention of death

Kid

he has a space just for you in his workshop

more times than not

the crew knows to look for both of you in said workshop

you two bounce ideas off of each other

the creative storm 

that's what everyone calls it

because you and Kid get so riled up

that you end up just screaming incoherently at each other

well, you both know what the other is saying

but I digress

you often experience art block when he's on a roll with his inventions

and his brain stops working about the same time you find your inspiration

it's a vicious cycle

but it keeps a much needed balance on the Victoria Punk

when you both find yourselves creating nonstop

everyone gets worried

Killer especially

you and the tulip often go days with little food or water or sleep

you can't just stop

what if your ideas disappear the moment you look away? 

what are you supposed to do then?

but then the blocks hit

and all hell breaks loose

with no ideas for your creative outlet

you get grumpy

which makes Kid even crankier

if there's anything on the ship that's not bolted down

it's fair game for the ensuing tantrums

just one spare glance is enough for either of you to jump on someone

fighting is better than just sitting around bored

though you find yourself quite calm after a few beers

and a bottle of wine

and like eight pints of ale

the point is

getting drunk also helps

(don't do that for real though cause your poor liver)

(also alcoholism isn't a fun hobby my guys)

Kid is just as destructive as before

but it's funnier now

because everyone is having a good time

anyway Kid loves spending time with you as you both work on your projects

it's a nice way to bond without all the mushy couple crap other people do

Killer

he likes that you're so artsy

you always find the most off-the-wall things to try

and he enjoys trying new things with you

mainly because the worst-case scenario results in maybe an hour of cleaning

and not with a pile of corpses

if you like whittling or any type of paper mache

and you make this man a mask

he'd be so happy that he's on the verge of tears

even if the mask isn't durable enough to wear in public

or while fighting

he'd still wear it in the safety of his room

where you can see him wearing it

he wants you to know how touched he is that you made it for him

he doesn't really know how to express how happy it makes him when you make stuff for him

so he'll just wear the things you make 

or he'll hang them up for everyone to see

if there's a particular sketch or painting that he really likes

he might hang it up in his private quarters 

so he can look at it before he goes to bed 

anyway

if you decided to try your hand at making jewelry

he would wear it

if that jewelry broke

he would be

devastated

he would be so upset that he messed up your hard work

you make him a new one that's even sturdier than before

you probably work on some of your projects while he's making dinner

it's one of the only times that you two can get some semi-peace and quiet before everyone goes to bed

he enjoys the downtime with you

him boiling some pasta

and you scribbling away in your sketchbook

planning your next big project 

Law

if there is anyone that's a hypocrite

it's this man

and that's hypocrite with a capital H

(Hypocrite)

you often become hyperfocused on your art

which leads to a lack of sleep

and self-awareness

Law doesn't like that

you need your rest

and to eat

and to stay hydrated

as much as he loves the art that you make

he can't allow his darling to neglect their own personal health

which is so funny coming from him

he doesn't mind when you sit in his office while he works

as long as you don't distract him too much

you'll make goofy sketches of him until you can't contain your laughter

which will promptly get you kicked out

but it was worth it

when he finds you drawing the other crew members

them posing while you furiously try to get all of the detail down

he can't help but smile

it warms his heart to see you all so happy

he'd never admit it

but he loves when you draw him or anything for him or stuff that reminds you of him

the amount of detail you put into your art is incredible

you manage to capture his tattoos and dark circles perfectly

maybe you'd mess around with drawing some tattoo designs for him

just general sketches

nothing fancy

and he'd be flipping through your sketchbook one day

when he sees them

he falls in love all over again

you know exactly what he likes in terms of style and content

so he'd get one of your tattoos

and surprise you with it

if you approve of him using your designs

(which of course you do, that was the whole point of drawing them)

he'd definitely get you to draw him some more

he might even encourage you to become a tattoo artist 

only if you're interested in doing so though

tattoos are something so personal to him

that he would be touched if you designed matching ones for you and him

and if you got some of your own that were dedicated to him

this man would spend hours just looking at them

tracing over them with his fingers

there aren't enough words in the world for him to even begin explaining how much he appreciates and loves you

#one piece headcanons #one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #eustass kid #kid x reader #captain kid #eustass kid imagines #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law