#I hopscotch between them
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If you use their practically nonexistent pre-book characterization Malcolm and Annabel are so Orpheus and Eurydice-coded.
If you go by their book characterization they remind me much more of Hades and Persephone.
#guess who’s listening to Hadestown again?#i already have too many unfinished works focusing on them why not add one more . . . *sigh*#no no it’s fine I swear#I hopscotch between them#Get more done than I would just doing focusing on one thing at a time#give a hand to executive dysfunction#the shadowhuter chronicles#the dark artifices#hadestown#malcolm fade#annabel blackthorn#orpheus#eurydice#hades#persephone#malcabel#malcolm fade x annabel blackthorn#character parallels#ship parallels#relationship parallels#hadestown au
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THE SILLIES
I LOVE THEM
I FUCKIN LOVE THEM-
LOOK AT THEM
LOOK
AT
THEM.
@valentinbelleyh505 YOU AND I AGREE BESTIE. THESE TWO NEED TO KISS ALREADY. YOU AND I AGREE
btw Jesus Christ why was my latest comic trending so much-
#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#poppy playtime 3#smiling critters#fanart#kickinchicken#kickinchicken x hoppy hopscotch#hoppy hopscotch#art#poppy playtime fanart#I LOVE THEM#I ADORE THEM#I have I don't know why my art style shifted between these two- literally the first drawing and the second are 2 days different.#dogday#bubba bubbaphant
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when you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail. and when you have Perpetual Present Mic Brainrot, every Noah Kahan song looks like it’s going on his playlist
#this is godlight btw#so good!!!#my own personal soundtrack for present mic is bruce springsteen elo marianas trench noah kahan abba#(fun fact about the ice cream shop au is that it’s actually just a cleverly constructed scheme#to talk about pre 2000s music i associate with present mic)#(i LOVE this fic)#aizawa has always been a little harder to pin down for me music wise but i know johnny cash and the goo goo dolls are on there#(the goo goo dolls wrote iris for Them they told me so)#billy joel hopscotches between them depending on the song#if anyone has aizawa tunes 👀#yamada hizashi#liza blather#liza's tunes tag#scheduled nonsense
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I might be 15 years late. But I FINALLY finished all of the main pjo books.
who let me do that….
#pjo series#NO BUT WHY DOES IT HURT SO BAD#YALL WENT THROUGH THIS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL???#I would have been a different person had i not forgotten to read them#time for the next part. or… is it?#*looks over at my three kingdoms books*#gotta jump between the cultures like hopscotch#speck rambles#ignore this#i am on the floor though#god. ow.
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DAD!JUNGKOOK who sings the nursery rhymes as if they were songs from his own show. with microphone in his hand, Jungkook began to use his sweet voice to entertain your child, making them dance between laughter and screams, helping them spin with his free hand; Jungkook jumped, taught your kid basic dance steps and did everything to ensure that those songs were something important and unique to your child. “the next song is dedicated to all the kids with big dreams! never give up on them! itsy-bitsy spider climbed up…”
DAD!JUNGKOOK who flooded the bathroom when bathing your child. whenever Jungkook offered to bathe your kid, you knew that endless moments of heartfelt laughter awaited you as well as several minutes of mopping; because, with rubber ducks and plastic boats, Jungkook always created a story without beginning or end, making your kid the great god who guided the little duckling back home — it was only natural for the great god to want a little turbulence in that sea so calm, right? “what if today we take the duck with us to the bathtub and take him to fairy island, popcorn?”
DAD!JUNGKOOK who buys matching pajamas for the whole family to wear during winter festivities. the arrival of the cold months brought with it the welcoming knowledge that family nights were just around the corner; to complement all the laughter and stories shared, Jungkook thought it best to ask santa for comfortable clothes for the whole family — it was just a coincidence that you received a reindeer onesie, Jungkook a snowman onesie, and your kid a little onesie of a gingerbread man. “what do you say we call your dami and we go create gingerbread houses before we go to bed?”
DAD!JUNGKOOK who builds a fort out of boxes and sheets to play magic with your child. in your back garden, boxes of the most varied sizes were strategically placed in a small castle adorned with old sheets from your old house; on the hottest summer days, when you went to drink lemonade on your patio, your relaxation time was complete with the sight of Jungkook on all fours roaring like a dragon while your kid, wearing a paper hat bigger than their head, shouted gibberish so that their wooden wand could defeat the great dragon Kook. “today i am going to tear down the entire castle and take the great magician Jeon to my cave!”
DAD!JUNGKOOK who paints the pavement with chalk with your child. on the most boring days, when Jungkook missed you and your child just wanted you to get home quickly, your husband would carry your little baby out on his back; with a bucket of chalk in hand, Jungkook and your kid spent hours painting the sidewalk in front of your house, creating a complex game of hopscotch, preparing a new game in colorful tones to be played when you got home. “your dami will love your idea of popping the bubbles that you painted. you are as creative as your father.”
DAD!JUNGKOOK who offered his childhood stuffed toy to your child when they had their first nightmare. you had been out with your friends the first night your child had a nightmare; awakened by their screams in the middle of the night, Jungkook quickly ran to your kid's room, seeing tears wiping their innocent face, making Jungkook's heart squeeze at such an agonizing sight. after calming your child with a hug filled with endless kisses, Jungkook would momentarily leave their room, only to return with a slightly grubby but very loved rabbit. “when i was little, here Mr. Hoppy fought all the monsters that wanted to take me. he told me it was his job to protect you now.”
DAD!JUNGKOOK who got a matching tattoo with your child when they turned 18. a heart made from the fingerprint of Jungkook's thumb and your kid's thumb gained a special place on their bodies; on the day your child turned eighteen, before going to celebrate with their friends, Jungkook took them to his favorite studio and, after deciding to wear the tattoo on their left ribs, your husband and son spent hours lying down exchanging small talk as they waited for the art to form within them. “don’t tell your dami it was my idea or i’ll sleep on the couch. say this was the gift you wanted, okay? please.”
#!BTS bouquet꒱₊˚ᰔ.#jeonjungkook#bts#jungkook#btsarmy#bangtansonyeondan#army#bangtanboys#bangtan#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#bts jungkook#bts x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook oneshot#jungkook scnearios#bts fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook fic recs#jungkook imagines#bts fic#bts rec
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K so I loved your egg and dog, why not next a real kid. The cannibal kids, like the kids adore y/n when ever she comes to town to visit. They do multiple fun activities like makeing flower crowns or just somthing as simple as hopscotch!
(Proves y/n would be a good mom.)
Y/N would be a good mom!! I believe in her!!
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Children in mild danger, Cartoonish antics, Reader wants children, Alastor being possessive, Sad implications
Description: 👆⬆️
Alastor likes taking you to Cannibal Town, he likes that everyone there loves you nearly as much as he does
He likes showing you off and letting Rosie brag about you for him
Because she totally brags about you, not letting Alastor get a word out to say it himself
And the children all listen to Rosie so they quickly turn their attention on you with sparkling eyes and grabby hands
And you are immediately enamored with them too, giving them tight squeezes and gentle pecks on their chubby cheeks
It's adorable that the children have taken such a shine to you, really it is
"Y/N! Y/N! Come play with us!"
"Alright~ Alright~"
Not the littlest one leading you by holding onto your finger
And the way you indulge them just makes his heart melt, watching you play along with their antics
You mend their clothes for them, bandage their boo-boos, bring them snacks so they aren't tempted to gnaw on each other
Or you
Plus it gives him time to chat with Rosie or shop for surprise gifts for you so he doesn't necessarily mind it
Except those kids never seem to run out of energy or get sick of your attention
Sometimes he finds you surrounded by them, all of you snuggled up together and relaxed
Are those flowers in your hair?
Yes, yes they are.
Or you'll seek him out, one child on your shoulders and another in your arms, both asleep
But your husband wants to take you home and get some snuggles with you for himself
And cannibal children are fucking ruthless when it comes to something they want so he has to get creative to get his wife back
"Here~! Have some scissors! Run as fast as you can with them~!"
"ALASTOR!"
"Oh fuck-"
They 100% fight back though, those children are smart and ruthless, quick to realize Alastor is competition
That's part of why he likes the cannibal children so much tbh
They will literally throw him in a well if it means spending five more minutes with you
It becomes a cartoonish war between Alastor and the children, one with little malice but many dangerous antics on both ends
With you in the middle
You even start to play along, picking different sides at random and turning things into a game
It's totally not an excuse to watch your husband play with children and it definitely doesn't make your heart ache
Once Alastor stops to realize how you're looking at him and sees how much warmth your gaze holds then he starts to understand something
Something that makes his heart throb a little but he tucks it away for when you two are alone
Alastor starts to join you in hanging out with the children after that, enjoying the maternal side of you more than he would care to admit
And seeing him act even remotely fatherly is obviously doing things for you so that's a bonus for him too
You two are constantly followed by a gaggle of children now, the two of you looking like duck parents
If you run into any of the overlords then Alastor will pit the kids against them, telling them to get their Aunty/Uncle
Bonus points if its Vox and they take off a piece of him and bring it back to Alastor
They love biting their Uncle Vox~
They even visit you two at the hotel sometimes, all of them storming the building and wreaking havoc until they find your room
Not all of them trying to sneak into bed with you two as silently as possible
Okay no-
He's going to start locking doors now
Go ahead, old man they'll just break them down
Alastor totally doesn't make them Charlie and Vaggie's problem afterwards just so that he can have some peace
More cuddles with his wife please
"Alastor...we should get the children home..."
"Five more minutes, my dear~"
How can you say no to him when he's kissing your neck like that?
Five more minutes
He's amused when you try to explain away the love marks on your neck and shoulders in a PG way
Kids ask the silliest questions, don't they?
You always sigh happily at the end of the day once the kids have gone home, leaning on your husband
You look tired but happy, Alastor committing the look to memory
He catches you staring at the kids fondly and looking at baby clothes a little more often
Maybe you hold a baby for a little too long, voice a little too thick with emotion
It's obvious to him that being around the children makes you happy but also makes you wish for something more
And all he wants is his wife to be happy
So maybe he should have that conversation with you that he's been putting off for awhile
Alastor isn't really a coward, but when it comes to difficult conversations with you, he's definitely reluctant
He doesn't like to see you get worked up and if the conversation goes where he thinks it's going to go then...you're gonna get upset
Waits until the two of you are snuggled up together in bed, his arm wrapped snuggly around you
You're nearly asleep, happily breathing in your husband's scent and lazily stroking his chest
"Y/N...do you want a family with me?"
Now you're wide awake
🥹🥺🥹 literally me after this
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader
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Why do i ship Cuddlejump⚡️❤️
(Hoppy hopscotch x Bobby bearhug)
And how i see their dynamic being like!
if you guys follow me for a while you guys may already noticed my very normal adimiration for the ship between hoppy hopscotch and bobby bearhug from the smiling critters...its not like they are 90% of my art gallery and that i cannot shut the fuck up about this ship hahaha right?
well,yea,i really,really,REALLY like them- its a ship that i pratically came up with first than anyone and somehow other ppl ended up found of them....but why? Why does Gabriela da paz lima is so normally obcessed with the ideia of a green tomboy rabbit n a red carebear being a couple?
At fist you may think "Uhh it is probally because of the classic tomboy tough girl x soft girly girl archetype right?" and yea,i can see why ppl think that is a very famous lesbian ship dynamic i respect ppl that are solid into them bc of it.... but its deeper to me than that...first i want to talk abt hoppy n bobby's solo characters first!
Hoppy Hopscotch⚡️🐰
ngl when i entered this fandom she was like,my favorite...i still love her tho
she is basically the energetic tomboy of the group acording w her official descreptions,she is also know as THE big motivation force of the critters,always pushing them out their comfort and have a very adventuous n positive spirit-
BUT she have very noticeble characters flaws as well,not only she is quite loud but she tends to be bossy n really impatient,being described as someone that can be "handful to deal with",and before the book release she is literaly the only critters with her character flaws listed-
i always liked how her personality is kinda complexish in comparassion to other critters,she is clealy have a good heart,very loyal n likes to help the others (which we can see in her cardboard line) but she can come up as rough n "overwhelming" in the way that she does it,she doesnt have the intention of hurt or being mean but she still comes as rude due her lack of patience n understanding( cof cof autism) of ppl's limits-
i really like her i feel like she is SO underrated:( you guys have to STOP make her a bully,she is NOT like that.)
Bobby bearhug🐻❤️
i love bobby so much that is not even funny,she is my kin baby-
she seems to be the typical shallow love girl at first sight but...theres so much more abt this carebear....
in her descreptions she is basically the mom friend of the group,she is here to keep her friends together not matter what,she is very phisically affecionate,she is emotional inteligent being very patient n understanding ( which is kinda of what hoppy lacks 👀) n her compassion don't limits itself to only hed friends but to things,places n basically any living thing-
she seems to be pretty much the perfect girl right?...well yea almost....and then theres her voice lines that give a very tonal shift to her character....
"i love you to the moon and back!im CRAZY about you...im lost without you...i been lost a long time....please take me with you this time....you'won't leave,will you?!"
at first it seems some kinda yandere shit but reading more and more deep in that,it sounds so desesperate n sad tbh...i seems like she is not thay confident by herself n DEEPLY fears the abandoment...which is...very ironical for HER character...
"But these lines are about the bbis destiny" yea i know but these lines are ALSO reflected in their cartoon personalities,like kickin being scared n hoppy being impatient...it very likely that is ALSO linked to her canon personality as well...which also makes me think in what amber said about her...
Damn thats....so relatable...i always try my best to be there for other ppl but im always so hard to myself when i know that i should not....thats a perfect irony to the "love character"...
she does not have that much of strong will for herself,she does not love herself in the same way that she loves everyone...she feels weak and defenceless n unwanted being at her own because she doesnt feel enough...
fuck,im crying...They will NEVER make me hate you,bobby bearhug.
🐰⚡️About Hoppy n Bobby's relationship🐻❤️
you see...they are both are very complex girls that love to support people on their own distinte ways,hoppy is the more of phisical support crittet while bobby is the emotional support critter- they deeply care about their friends and they want see them trying news things...i would say that they both valorize support over anything,thats their main atribute-
but they are also deeply flawed in very different ways,hoppy is impatient,bossy n can come off as rude bc of her lack of caring side....also very reckless as consequence....(kinda the reason of why she died) Bobby is very emotional dependent which causes her to panic over the ideia of being alone n doesnt like trying to push herself to do anything when she is feeling too alone( that also can be the reason of why she died)...
they flaws n qualities...weidly compliment each other well...hoppy needs more emotional inteligence n more understanding,not only of other ppl's limits but her own limits.... Bobby needs strengh will and motivation due her deep insecurities and self loath,she can be stronger than she is at her own,and hoppy can show that to her-
i feel like they dynamic is really strong and be summarized as "Besides all our differences,we value the same thing and in the end of the day,i really need you"
i just REALLY love comprimentary duos + opposite atract sorry- call me basic bitch.
💚More of their dynamic plus personal headcanons❤️
i like to think that hoppy would be sighly unconfortable with bobby's affection fowards her at first but she is slowly beggins to enjoy it and reciprocate it-
i also like to think that they would be the ones to come up with the group's activities together,hoppy tries to do batshit insane stuff but bobby tones them down to be safier-(they MIGHT go into lil fights abt it)
also hoppy really enjoys bobby's anger/tough moments because she is surprising REALLY strong but she always never show it-
hoppy also tends to be emotional but she nevr shows it util bobby find it by her own and she ended uo breaking her tough girl persona in front of her(which of course bobby accepts)
Bobby,hoppy n kickin were kinda of a trio and they basically the over loving girl,the cool "chill" guy and the hyperative dumbass...it fits them...
i have a MILLIONS of stuff to say about them but i would be here forever sooo i hope you guys have enjoyed my yapping about cuddlejump:)
BYE!!!
#smiling critters poppy playtime#smiling critters#poppy playtime#ppt#bobby bearhug#hoppy hopscotch#cuddlejump#hoppyhug#ship#lesbian#lgbt ship#rant#analisys
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I seriously can't decide on who's my favourite Smiling Critter. They're all so so cute, I love them! But if I had to pick, it'd be a tie between CatNap and Hoppy Hopscotch. CatNap because, well, CAT. And Hoppy because I personally like characters that are spunky girls, and also because BUNNY.
Both are wonderful but I can't help but think this dynamic fits them LOL
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Bigger Body Hoppy Hopscotch
I made my version of Bigger Body Hoppy.
A little bit of information:
As I hinted at with the Prototype Squad, Hoppy is a...weird case, especially for Catnap. While Hoppy doesn't view the Prototype as a God of any sort, she still more or less is against the side of Playtime Co. and willingly participates in the Hour of Joy. Due to this, Catnap doesn't consider her a heretic as she isn't against the Prototype just isn't fully devoted to the lord.
She is in a middle ground between everyone.
Regardless of being a middle ground, she has a surprisingly good relationship with Catnap. I think it would be reasonable to believe that like how Dogday explains how if the mini critters follow Catnap, they're fed, Catnap brings a similar offer to other toys. For other Bigger Bodies that don't have to worry too much in hunting for food, Catnap instead offers protection from other threats. Also, Hoppy and her moon fascination sometimes translate to having admiration for Catnap.
The Bigger Body design is a little shorter than the other Smiling Critters standing up on their legs. But her body also is built in a way where she can be a fast runner, use her more complex fingers(and claws) to grab objects more easily and have a little more muscle than the rest. Pretty much, like Hoppy in the show, she is designed to keep kids entertained and active through a variety of sports.
BBI Hoppy isn't the most brightest or careful among the Smiling Critters and sometimes she ends up in dangerous situations with toys not to be messed with. She lost her arm being attacked but managed to flee where she ended up being found and taken care of by Catnap. Catnap decided to put on the belts like the ones used for Dogday but instead use them to patch up what's left of the arm.
#poppy playtime hoppy#hoppy hopscotch#digital art#fanart#poppy playtime 3#catnap#smiling critters#cw blood#poppy playtime fanart#poppy playtime#tw blood#the smiling critters#smiling critters fanart#poppy playtime art#poppy playtime catnap
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Best Intentions - Chapter One
Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x femme Warnings: Angst. Smut. Mentions of shell shock and trauma. Word count: ~4.3k
Summary: An overview of how Tom and her came to be friends, and the set up for the story now that he's returned to Longsight. Series masterlist.
Author's note: I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
The imposing red brick building of Plymouth Grove Primary School is gigantic and intimidating to her as she enters through the gates to the playground, the thought of being left here for the entire day makes her clutch at her mum’s hand with tight desperation.
Her first day of school is one she’ll never forget, forever imprinted in her mind, owing to a big pair of blue eyes filled with mischief, and a grin with a pair of front teeth that remind her of a rabbit’s.
It’s morning break as she surveys the playground nervously, trying to decide if she feels brave enough to join in on a nearby game of hopscotch. It’s then that she feels a warm puff of air ruffle the back of her hair, and she spins around to see a sandy haired boy running back towards a group of laughing lads.
“I did it! I gobbed in her hair!” He shouts.
Humiliation warms her skin as tears prickle her eyes, and she hurries inside to the girls’ toilets to unsuccessfully try to locate where the offending spittle has landed, all the while sniffling back sobs.
It’s when dinnertime comes and she sits unhappily sipping her milk that she sees him again. He sidles up to her, alone this time, a sheepish look on his face.
“I didn’t really,” he shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, “Gob in your hair, I mean. I was dared to, so I pretended,”
“Oh,” is all she’s able to manage, not sure of what else to say.
“I’m Tom. Mates, yeah?” He says with his bunny toothed grin, and she can’t help but smile back.
He sits himself next to her, opening his own milk and they spend the remainder of the hour getting to know each other.
She’s surprised to learn that it’s his first day too, she had assumed from his confidence that he would be a couple of years above her. He lives with his dad, Douglas, who works as a bus conductor, his mum - Josie, and his sister, Lois, who is a couple of years above them.
He learns all about how she lives with her mum, and it’s just the two of them as her dad had passed away when she was a baby. Her mum runs the shop off of Stamford Road with her uncle, who lives in the flat above it.
Tom’s eyes light up at the mention of this. “The one with the jars of sherbet straws?”
“Yeah,” she smiles, “And treacle toffees!”
By half past three that afternoon, as the children file back out of the school gates, her and Tom are firm friends.
Her mum and Josie stand waiting to collect them, and they discover that they live only a few streets apart, so the four of them and Lois walk home together, chattering excitedly about her and Tom’s first day of school.
From that day forward, the thought of being at school for the entire day fills her with excitement. Tom makes it a less scary place to be, and is quick to defend her if ever anyone tries to give her trouble.
Their friendship remains solid as the years pass, as does Tom’s compulsion for finding trouble. He adores showing off and being the centre of attention, but it’s always her he runs to when it’s time to face the consequences. She is a privy to a side of him that nobody else is, she has seen his fear, his sadness and his doubt.
They sit on the wall adjacent to her mum’s shop, a paper bag rustling between them as they help themselves to sherbet straws. Tom and Lois had walked home with her and her mum. Josie hadn’t been there to pick them up, she hadn’t been for a few days now.
“Should probably go home soon,” she slurs around a mouthful of sweets, “Need to do my homework.”
Tom nods slowly, moving his own sweet around in his mouth. “D’you…d’you think you could help me with mine?”
“Why?” She chides, “‘Cause you spent all lesson mucking about?”
“Come on,” he pleads, “Me mam’s not well, last thing she needs is me getting into trouble because I can’t do sums.”
She clicks her tongue and sighs. “Fine,” she says, jumping down from the wall.
“Smashing,” he grins, following after her.
She smiles over her shoulder at him. “What are mates for?”
Josie’s illness worsens and she passes away around the time that they start secondary school.
Tom’s behaviour becomes more uncontrollabe, exacerbated by his mum’s death, but with her and Lois at the all girls school, and him at the all boys, there is little that can be done to stop him.
Things come to a head one day when Douglas opens the door to an angry neighbour, who berates him for Tom having stolen the milk from their doorstep, running away laughing, before dropping and smashing it when they’d chased after him.
He’d come to her after Douglas had given him a stern telling off, head bowed and looking sorry for himself.
“He hates me,” Tom had said sullenly.
“He doesn’t hate you, Tom, you just need to behave yourself. Why’d you do it?”
“Was dared to,” he says with a shrug.
“Like when you spat in my hair?”
He presses his lips together, lowering his eyes. “I dunno why I do it. It’s just hard since mam’s gone, dad doesn’t understand me like she did.”
It’s then that she notices the tears that rim his eyes, and she pulls him into a hug.
When had he gotten so tall? He feels massive compared to how he used to.
“Thanks,” he whispers, “I’m glad we’re mates.”
The next few years follow a similar pattern; Tom gets into trouble and immediately runs to her each time, basking in the safety of her presence and comforting words.
As they grow older, Tom’s misbevaiour evolves into petty crimes which soon attract the attention of the police.
She also begins to notice the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to him each time she pulls him into a hug, a troubling new habit he’s developed, no doubt to impress the older boys.
He now seems impossibly tall, and with every inch he grows it feels like he pulls a little bit further away from her. It makes her heart ache.
She grows used to seeing him walking home in the mornings looking bedraggled, a cigarette perched between his lips, after having spent the night in the back of a pub to avoid the police, who would no doubt have been knocking at the door of the Bennett household the previous evening.
When news of war having broken out in Europe reaches them and lads Tom’s age begin signing up to the draft, Tom decides he’s having none of it.
“Signing up as a conchie!” He tells her, as they sit on the wall together, waving the green booklet for emphasis.
“Your dad was a conscientious objector,” she says, narrowing her eyes in disbelief, “Your beliefs are suddenly the same as his are they?”
Tom tuts, flicking his lighter absentmindedly. “Just don’t wanna sign my life away for a load of bollocks that’s got naff all to do with me,”
His mind soon changes once the police come knocking again. He enlists in the Navy, action he considers less direct than fighting on the front lines.
The night before he’s due to ship out, he has a rowdy celebration in the local pub, jeering and clinking glasses with those who’ve not yet joined the draft. She watches on with a heavy feeling in her chest, she knows behind all his claims of how many Germans he’s going to kill and how he’ll have a bird in every port that he’s terrified of what’s to come.
That much is proven as he walks her home later that night, unsteady on his feet and reeking of beer. He sways in front of her once they reach her front door, big blue eyes misty and filled with emotion.
“You okay, sailor?” She asks with a soft smile.
“Can I– can I stay the night?” He asks, suddenly seeming like the little boy he was back when they were in primary school and he’d apologised for pretending to spit in her hair. “I don’t wanna be alone.”
She’s never shared a bed with Tom before. They’ve always been just friends. Her throat runs dry at the thought, but in that moment he seems so vulnerable, she can’t deny him anything.
They creep up the rickety wooden stairs to her bedroom, careful not to wake her mum, and squeeze into the single bed that occupies the space. He clings tightly to her, long limbs wrapped around her, like a drowning man grasping onto a lifesaver.
“I’m so scared,” he whispers into the darkness.
“You’ll come back,” she reassures him, “You have to, who else would be my mate?”
She feels him smile against her shoulder. “Yeah, who else would put up with you?”
They giggle, before shushing each other as she elbows him in the ribs, and they fall asleep curled around each other.
Tom’s gone when wakes up.
They write letters back and forth to each other, but each one feels distant and lifeless. He’s writing with the mask he shows to the rest of the world, giving an emotionless recount of each of his days. She supposes he might be afraid or whose hands his words may end up in, and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself, so she clings to every letter, vapid as they are, grateful to still have a connection to him.
She visits the Bennett household once a week, to share the letters they’ve been exchanging - to her disappointment, the ones she receives are much the same as the ones he sends home to Douglas and Lois.
Over time, her mum and uncle join her on her visits. Her mum brings cakes and her uncle gets into the habit of playing cards with Douglas. She is glad for the closeness between their two families, it makes Tom’s absence seem less daunting.
It’s at the Bennetts’ house where she learns the news of the attack on the HMS Exeter, the Naval ship that Tom is stationed aboard. Her blood runs icy cold at the news, though the Exeter was victorious it is not without deaths and casualties.
The weeks spent waiting for news are agonising, and it’s Tom she’s thinking of as she leans against the shop counter, eyes fixed on the large front window, but too lost in her thoughts to see through it.
“Quarter of sherbet straws when you’re not away with the fairies,”
The familiar voice startles her out of her reverie and she looks up wide eyed at Tom’s smiling face.
God, he’s grown into those bunny teeth. Has his smile always been so handsome?
“Tom!” She squeals, rushing from behind the counter and throwing her arms around his neck. “Do your dad and Lois know you’re back?”
He hugs her warmly before pulling back. “Yeah, popped home first to say hello. Left me new bird there, actually, thought you’d wanna meet her?”
She hates the way her heart sinks at this, but nods regardless, flipping the closed sign on the shop door and locking it behind her.
Tom tells her all about the Battle of the River Plate as they walk back to his house. He grows solemn when he’s finished, glancing sideways at her.
“I saw people die,” he says quietly, “I thought I was gonna die. Can’t believe there’s so much of my life I’ve pissed up the wall.”
It’s then that she notices how much more mature he seems, wise beyond his years. He’s seen things that no man his young age should have seen. She reaches for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, a gesture which he returns.
“So, this is Vera,” he gestures towards the kitchen table as they head inside.
She laughs, relief washing over her, when she sees the little canary sitting in her cage.
For a few days it feels like everything is back to normal, until Tom gets a new posting and has to leave again.
“I’ll come back,” he tells her, taking her hands in his, “who else would be your mate?”
She can’t help but smile. “No one else would put up with me,”
He’s away longer this time, his letters are fewer and the worry gnaws at her with more intensity than ever before.
For the second time in her life she cries over Tom Bennett when she hears that he’s been declared as missing in action on the beaches of Dunkirk, a suspected capture by opposing forces.
Lois falls pregnant, and for a time the advancing stages of her pregnancy and eventual birth are a welcome distraction, a reminder that there is life amongst all the death that surrounds them.
Her grief is amplified when bombs fall over Manchester, a bottomless pit opening in her gut when she finds out that there was a direct hit on the Bennett house. Her uncle and Douglas had been inside playing cards at the time, neither had survived.
Her mum moves Lois and her baby into the flat above the shop, with her uncle gone the space is no longer occupied and it makes sense for them to have it, considering they no longer have a roof over their heads.
It’s comforting to have them so close, a little piece of Tom to hold onto until he comes back, if he comes back. She hates herself for thinking it.
When Tom next steps through the shop door, there’s no trace of his grin from last time. He looks skinny, haunted, he’s aged. There’s an anger within his blue eyes that replaces the mischief that used to sparkle there.
He doesn’t need to ask for her to know what he’s after. There will be no hugs of greeting this time.
“She’s upstairs,” she says softly, her stomach tied into knots.
He simply nods and walks towards the back to go up.
It doesn’t take long for her to be able to hear the muffled sounds of arguing and not five minutes later he storms back downstairs and out into the street. She follows after him, grabbing the quarter of sherbet straws she’d bagged up for him.
He’s sat smoking on their usual spot on the wall, and she hops up beside him, placing the paper bag between them. He doesn’t touch them. She wonders when the last time he ate anything at all was, he looks so thin.
The silence between them feels painful, she doesn’t know what to say, but she can tell from the way his hands shake and the urgency with which he drags on his cigarette that if she doesn’t say something then he certainly won’t.
“You can’t be angry with Lois, y’know,” she says gently, “it’s not her fault,”
“Then whose is it?!” He snaps angrily, eyes narrowing as he looks at her.
He’s never spoken to her like that before and she shrinks away from it. “It’s not my fault either,” she whispers sadly.
His face softens, a look of shame replacing his anger as he averts his gaze, his lips twitching. “Sorry about your uncle,”
“Sorry about your dad,”
His return is brief, only a couple of days this time. Enough time for him to visit Douglas’ grave, but not enough for them to talk, not properly anyway. He reveals that he was taken to an American hospital in Paris, after being shot in Dunkirk. A woman named Henriette had helped him to escape France and he’d made his way home via Spain. It’s all so matter of fact the way that he recounts it, but she only has to look into his eyes to see the turmoil he’s feeling. It crushes her.
He looks fearful and uncertain when they say goodbye, the urge to cling to him and beg him not to go is overwhelming.
“You’ll still be here when I get back, won’t you?” He asks.
“Course I will, I always am,” she replies with a sad smile.
He cups her cheek, his large palm engulfing her face and leans down to press his lips to hers. She startles at first, they have never kissed before, but she quickly reciprocates, moving her mouth against Tom’s. His lips are so soft and there is a tenderness behind the gesture that brings tears to her eyes.
She’s breathless when they part, his forehead resting against hers, his hand still cupping her cheek.
“Mates, yeah?” He whispers.
The word makes her heart twinge. “Yeah, mates.”
Her fingers trace lightly across her mouth as she watches him walk away, kit bag slung over his shoulder.
Tom sends no letters at all the third time he leaves, so eventually she stops writing to him. She figures it can’t be nice for him to hear about how life is carrying on without him, how his niece has started to walk and talk, a new house built in place of his old one with a new family living inside it.
She can’t bear how the world continues, while she feels stuck in place, waiting for his return. It isn’t fair that there are people getting to laugh and love and live their lives, while he’s sacrificing his so that they may have the privilege.
With the exception of the morning paper sort, her mum has taken a step back from the shop, needing more rest than usual, and without her uncle around to help out, she’s taking on more hours in order to keep things ticking over. The sweet jars sit empty, rationing is difficult to get used to. She’ll never be able to come to terms with sending people away without the food they want and need, simply because the shop either doesn’t have enough stock, or they have already used their allotted portion for the week.
Her mind drifts back to how skeletal Tom had looked when she’d seen him last. She hopes he’s managing to eat.
It’s the beginning of September, the dying embers of summer glow dark orange on the horizon, as the evening battles the day for dominance in the increasingly earlier darkening of the sky.
Lois is on an evening shift, so her mum is round at the flat looking after the little one. She has the house to herself, and has lost count of the amount of times she’s read and re-read the same passage in her book, unable to take the words in.
She frowns when she hears the door knock, unsure of whether she should answer it or not, she’s not expecting anyone. Her hesitation provides enough time for a second knock, more urgent this time, so she relents, going to the front door and opening it.
It feels as though time freezes when she sees Tom standing there, gaunt and tired looking.
He doesn’t give her time to react, dropping his kit bag to the floor as he closes the door behind him and presses a bruising kiss to her lips. His hands pull at her clothes as he backs her towards the living room sofa, and she lets him.
She just needs to feel that he’s real, that he’s really back, so she loses herself in the moment, allowing him to climb on top of her, her own hands moving to strip him as he does the same to her.
Her fingertips stroke down his back and she’s shocked to find she can feel every vertebrae in his spine, and all the ribs that protrude through the skin. She’s never touched him in such an intimate manner before, but she knows he’s never been so emaciated. He feels hollow, yet there is strength to how he manhandles her.
Pulling her thighs apart, he settles between them, pushing her open with the thickness of his cock. She gasps, arching against him, clutching tightly to his shoulders as he pistons his hips in quick succession against hers. This is no gentle lovemaking, it is filled with raw animalistic need, a desire to feel something, anything.
His breaths are ragged against her neck and he finds release quickly, spilling inside of her with a grunt before collapsing and pulling her tight to his chest.
They lay quietly on the sofa together, nothing but the sounds of their heavy breathing filling the space. She has a thousand questions she longs to ask him, yet none of them seem appropriate. Despite the fact that Tom has just brutally had his way with her, she’s still in shock that he’s returned.
“I’m sorry I never wrote,” he says eventually, “was tired of never having any good news to tell you,”
“You’re back now,” she says quietly, fingers tracing over the bullet wound scar in his shoulder, “that’s all that matters,”
“Still mates then?” He asks.
Her heart lurches at the word. Is that all they are after what’s just happened?
“Yeah, still mates,”
He drifts to sleep in her arms and she holds him, until his thrashing pushes her from the sofa. She lands with a heavy thud on the living room carpet, watching in horror as Tom’s sweaty body writhes and cries out in terror in his sleep.
She kneels beside the sofa, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to still him and coax him awake. He startles, wide eyed, before clutching at her, burying his face in her neck and sobbing until he drifts into unconsciousness again.
As Tom settles back into life in Longsight, he goes right back to wearing a mask for everyone.
“Are you a hero?” Children shout as he walks down the street.
“Always have been, always will be,” he says with a lopsided grin.
Yet each day ends with him muffling his cries into her neck after she’s soothed his night terrors, she knows better than the act he puts on for everyone else’s benefit. She suspects that Tom may be suffering from shell shock, but doesn’t dare to bring it up. Knowing his father had the same, it is likely a sore subject for him.
His return sees a new development in their friendship, them sleeping together the night he came back isn’t a one off occurrence, yet each time he still continues to refer to her as a mate. It’s confusing for her, but not an issue she wishes to push, knowing that Tom is struggling with enough already. He’ll figure it out when he’s ready, she just needs to be there for him.
Tom gets a flat nearby, and finds a job at the local garage. Having served in the Navy has imparted mechanical skills to him, and he can easily work his way around an engine.
She sits perched on the workbench of the garage, admiring the view. Tom’s sandy coloured hair is pushed back from his forehead, his navy overalls tied around his waist, leaving him in just the white vest he wears underneath. His first customer of the day has yet to arrive, so he’s clean for now. She bites her lip at the thought of how dirty he’ll be by the end of the day.
It has become routine for her to spend a few mornings a week watching him work - her mum has never gotten out of the habit of insisting she wants to open the shop and sort the morning papers before heading home, so she is left to her own devices most days until the early afternoon. Tom doesn’t seem to mind having her hang around the garage.
When a car pulls in, a portly gentleman stepping out, Tom walks to greet him.
“It keeps overheating, I can’t understand why,” he explains to Tom.
“I’ll take a look for ya, mate. Come back in an hour, yeah?”
The man looks over at her with slight concern. “Will she…uh…be assisting you?”
Tom grins. “Nah, she’s just a mate, won’t let her near your motor, don’t worry.”
Just a mate.
She thinks back to how he’d knelt behind her not long after they’d woken up, just a couple of hours ago, pulling her hips back to meet each of his thrusts.
Just a mate.
Mates don’t do that.
Tom’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts. “Stupid old sod, just needs to put coolant in the engine. Gonna tell him I replaced the fan belt and charge him extra.”
She giggles, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
He gives an easy shrug. “He’s loaded, he can afford it.”
She sighs, looking at her watch. “I’d better push off, mum’ll be expecting me at the shop. I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Probably not,” Tom says. “Booked solid tomorrow, but come round to mine after?”
She nods, waving and walking away. She’s used to Tom letting her know when the garage will be busy, so makes a point to stay away so he’s not distracted.
It’s not until the end of the day, when she fishes around in her pocket for the keys to lock up the shop that she realises she has Tom’s lighter. She’s too tired to pop round and drop it off at his, so decides she’ll swing by the garage in the morning to give it back.
Her fingers wrap around it in her pocket, preparing to take it out to hand back as she approaches the garage the next morning.
She stops in her tracks when she sees a sleek black motor car parked in the vehicle bay, a tall, sophisticated, beautiful woman standing beside it. Her perfectly manicured nails stroke down Tom’s bare arm as her ruby red lips pull back into a smile.
Her heart lurches in her chest as she watches him reach out to tuck a strand of the woman’s long, dark hair behind her ear.
Her throat tightens, nausea bubbles in her stomach as she turns and walks away, the lighter long forgotten. It feels as though the bottom of her world has been ripped away. She angrily swipes at the wetness that rims her eyes.
Just mates.
Fine, if that’s what Tom wanted then that’s all they’d ever be.
#tom bennett#tom bennett x reader#tom bennett x y/n#tom bennett x you#ewan mitchell#tom bennett smut#tom bennett angst#tom bennett fan fiction#tom bennett fanfiction#tom bennett fanfic#tom bennett fan fic#tom bennett imagine#world on fire#world on fire fan fiction#world on fire fanfiction#world on fire fanfic#world on fire fan fic
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Thank you for the tag @heartstringsduet @thisbuildinghasfeelings @bonheur-cafe @nisbanisba and @paperstorm 🧡
Chapter 8 of Rhythms is now on Ao3, and I don't want to spoil chapter 9 before Sunday, so here is something different! From my TK POV 4x12 coda that I'm planning to share next week!
It was the most terrifying day of my life, when you were born.”
“Thanks,” TK laughs. “Most kids get to hear that their arrival was the best, but whatever.”
“I’ll say this,” Owen begins, looking right into TK’s eyes. “It was really good to meet you. But it was terrifying. We got you home. It was still terrifying. Then time passed and you got a bit bigger and you had these bright eyes that you’d open so wide. And you’d really look around.” Owen grins tearfully. “I’d come home from work and you’d smile at me all toothless.”
“Stop.”
“That was the best,” Owen sniffs and takes a comforting bite from a whole handful of French fries. “And then you were a teenager and I wasn’t really there. Not enough.”
“You were when I came out, though. You were amazing.”
“That was another best-ever day,” Owen says.
It happened after school on a rainy March Monday - a day otherwise ordinary and inconsequential. But it had meant everything to say the words out loud and receive a huge hug in reply. They relaxed on the couch together with takeout afterwards, talking and being pals.
TK feels a twinge of nostalgia for the moment, even though they’re more-or-less doing the same thing now with four buckets of fried chicken between them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so excited,” TK laughs, looking down at his feet. “You were like Buttercup when we tell him he’s going for a W-A-L-K.”
Buttercup boofs. He knows what that means. He’s not an idiot.
“Buttercup, down!” Owen says as Buttercup starts to heave himself up. “We have to just say W now,” Owen whispers to TK, “He’s figured it out.”
“Really?” TK laughs. This is Buttercup’s equivalent of learning to turn doorhandles like the velociraptors in Jurassic Park.
“Yes, so zip it,” Owen tells him, and returns to the subject at hand. “The day you came out to me is one of my favorite memories.”
“That’s so nice,” TK says softly. There can’t be too many people who hear that from their dad.
“I was happy that you could be yourself. I was happy you felt like you could come out to me when you were so young.”
“Me too.” TK takes a deep, shaky breath, thinking back on it. He was fourteen when he came out to his parents just a day apart, and the way they embraced him ended up closing the distance between all of them.
Open tag and tags below
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haunted house (dad!george x reader fluff)
more promptober! just a fun fic about you and the kids making plans for when george gets home. enjoy! <3
the bell for the end of the day rings just as you make it through the school gates, wet autumn leaves on the ground and the wriggly three-year-old in your arms doing nothing but hindering an already-running-late you. panting slightly, you carefully set cara down and try to catch your breath, ruffling her hair as she clings to your leg.
you're not really sure why you rushed, to be honest; connor's the most laid-back five-year-old you've ever heard of, with a habit of swanning out of school a few minutes after most of his classmates have bolted out of the playground, and you know you would have been there waiting for him in plenty of time had you walked from the car instead of running. still, you don't want to chance it, you'd rather wait for your son than have it be the other way around.
and you do wait - seven minutes (and three games of hopscotch with your daughter) after the school day ends, connor finally deigns to leave the building, chatting away to dylan as they wander over to you. at the sight of her brother and for-all-intents-and-purposes cousin, cara speeds over to them to say hello; when the three of them walk closer to you, you can see the smug little grin on her face at getting to hang out with the “big kids”, even though there's barely two years between her and them.
you grin back at them, amused at the (classic daniel/healy) height difference between the two five-year-olds. “hi, munchkins. y'alright? took you a while to leave school today.”
“dyl couldn't find her water bottle, mum,” connor throws himself into a cuddle, which you reciprocate eagerly. “but i helped her.”
your goddaughter corroborates this, giving you a hug of her own in greeting. “yeah cos we have the same one and no-one else has it because they're from our dads’ work. but mine has an sticker that's pink,” she almost whacks you with said water bottle in her haste to show you the barbie sticker half-stuck over the 75 logo. “it was at the sink and not my seat.”
“oh, well, that's good you got it,” you pat her head. “did your dad tell you this morning that it would be me picking you up because mummy's not feeling well?”
“yeah. he said baby's making her tummy sore, so i'm going home in the car with you.”
“that's right,” you take cara's hand, heading out towards the almost-empty car park. “let's go to the car now, babies.”
“mum!” connor looks aghast. “we're not babies. i'm five.”
“i'm nearly six,” dylan says proudly. “when baby gets here i'll be six. and lena will be four. and you too, cara.”
your youngest looks at you, brow furrowed; you have to stop yourself giggling at how much she looks like george. “i'll be four?”
“yes, angel. you and lena won't be the tiny babies any more, will you? we'll all have an actual baby to look after.”
cara hums, too preoccupied to be excited about the thought of a new friend. “will i get a party when i'm four?”
“oh, i think so,” you unlock the car, scooping her up with a kiss to her cheek before settling her into her carseat. “you know what dad and matty are like. any excuse to celebrate! right, dyl, you get in there, darling, watch your step,�� fastening her seatbelt, you shout across the girls to your son. “you alright, con?”
“mhmm!”
you check anyway - he's fine - before getting in yourself. “alright, munchkins, home time.”
what should only be a ten-minute drive to the healy house actually ends up being twenty-five because of traffic, but it's pleasant enough - the kids are good as gold, patiently playing i spy, softly giggling the whole time and warming your heart. you knew all along that your babies would be best friends with your best friends’, but seeing dylan - tiny for her age, shockingly tentative from birth - yap and laugh along with your two like this is a heartwarming (and only slightly terrifying) indication that the kids will genuinely end up being as close (read: codependent) as their fathers are.
their fathers, who are still at the studio working diligently, you learn when your friend waddles (there's no other word for it) out to the car to get dylan despite you yelling “stay there! i'll bring her up!” repeatedly when you reach her house. she rolls her eyes as she tells you, absentmindedly rubbing her baby bump, an air of vague exhaustion hanging around her. “according to matthew, they're working on until half 6 tonight, so they can take the weekend off and do final tweaks on monday, and that's them done,” she scoffs. “can you believe that?”
“of course not. george has been promising to be home at half 4 for the past three weeks,” you snort. “and as for final tweaks…”
“oh, another month, at least.”
“literally. that baby girl of yours might arrive before they send that final mix off.”
“don't, i'm actually nervous about that,” she giggles, cradling her stomach before pulling you into a hug. “i'd better go before elena tries to cut her own hair again. d'you want to do dinner next friday, us and the kids - and the boys, if they ever unchain themselves from that mixing desk?”
“i'll bring starters and dessert,” you kiss her cheek. “take it easy, alright?”
“yeah. hope you get to see your husband this weekend, babe!”
“you too!”
you really, really hope you do; after an hour in tesco, you and the kids get home well after george's originally-planned home time, and your heart sinks when you unlock the door to the lights still off and no sign of him, other than the half-drunk coffee he left this morning and a couple of cigarette butts in the kitchen ashtray. moments like these are sometimes harder than when he's actually away touring, you think - it's less upsetting missing george when there are oceans between you than it is when you're ships in the night in the same house.
still, you've got the kids to keep you distracted from being melancholy; it's impossible to be anything other than overjoyed when your sweet babies insist on group cuddles on the sofa while you watch another episode of balamory, or when the two of them run to get their stepstools so they can watch you make fajitas for dinner with genuine interest (well, connor more than cara), or during dinner itself, when connor collapses into contagious giggles at the sight of his little sister’s face covered in guacamole. but they miss their dad, too, despite all the happiness, as admitted by cara while she's clinging onto you in piggyback while you do the dishes. “when's daddy home?”
you sigh, doing your best to keep the sadness out of it. “m'not sure yet, angel. he'll phone when he's leaving his work, though.”
“‘kay,” she digs her little chin into your shoulder, only slightly uncomfortably for you. “will he read me a story?”
“i bet he will,” you put away the last plate, wiping your hands before swinging her round to hold her in front of you; once her laughter subsides, you speak again. “daddy loves reading stories to you and connor.”
cara nods. “and he hasn't done it in ages.”
well, four days, but to a three-year-old… that probably feels like an eternity. the thought brings a lump to your throat. “he will, though, soon, munchkin. daddy will be home soon, and he'll read you a bedtime story,” biting back a sniffle, you spot a parenting advantage. “that is, if you brush your teeth extra well once you put your pyjamas on. yeah?”
“yeah!”
ironically, coincidentally, whatever you want to call it, the omw home text from george flashes up on your watch during cara's bathtime, the last step in what her dad likes to call “the ‘pre-bedtime routine’ routine”. she squeals when you tell her, kicking her little legs with such enthusiasm that half the bathwater ends up over you, and her brother rushes into the room in a panic. “what's going on? why is cara screaming? is she ok?”
wriggling even as you lift her into a cosy towel, cara answers. “yeah! daddy's coming to read us a story!”
“oh!” your son's face lights up. “really, mummy?”
“yes, darling, he just sent a message,” you confirm. “d'you want to go and choose a book while i get cara into her pyjamas? and then we can wait for him together?”
“mhmm” connor moves to leave, but turns back in the doorway to look at the two of you. there's a familiar smile on his face, and you're not sure whether to be worried about whatever sneaky thing he's about to suggest or pissed off that both of your kids look nothing like you. “or…”
you brace yourself. “or what, con?”
“we don't wait and we hide and then jump out and surprise him.”
the laugh escapes your lips before you even realise. fuck it. “alright. let's do it…”
the cheers you get in response are deafening.
“... but,” you raise your eyebrows pointedly. “only if you pick a book for your bedtime story now, connor,” matching his nods, you turn to your youngest in her towel cocoon. “and you brush your teeth properly, like we agreed earlier.”
cara nods so excitedly that the towel falls off her head. connor laughs, and you can't help chuckling either. “okay, babies - don't get stroppy, con, you're gonna be my babies forever, alright? anyway,” you ruffle his hair. “we'll hide in the wardrobe in your room. d'you want to wait there for me and cara, munchkin?”
“yeah!” he darts off, and seconds later you hear him rifling through the little bookshelf in his bedroom. “i picked a book!”
“good boy!” you call, before turning back to your still-beaming girl. “will you be good, madam?”
she nods sweetly. and she really is - there isn't a peep of a complaint at all. not while you're drying and dressing her, not during teeth-brushing, not even when you've got her sat on the bathroom counter as you brush and braid her hair, which is usually something she prefers george doing “cos it's not sore when daddy does it”.
whatever. at least you still have hair.
hyper-aware of the fact that time is of the essence, you comb through cara's fringe once more, before scooping her up into your arms and kissing her little cheek. “what do we think, munchkin - d'you think you look good?”
“hmmm,” cara squints at her reflection, then grins. “yeah!”
“i think so too. shall we go and get connor and wait for daddy?”
a nod against your shoulder, and off you go on the short jaunt to your son's room. connor's already sitting in the massive built-in wardrobe, book in hand and an eager smile on his face. you smile in return, settling down beside him and pulling the cupboard door almost fully-closed; you're careful to leave a crack in front of you, so you'll be able to see your husband when he arrives. which, actually, should be imminently, so you'd better come up with a game plan. you tug your kids close to you. “so, when daddy gets here-”
“mum, why are you being quiet?” the confusion is evident on connor's sweet little face even in the minimal light. “dad isn't here yet.”
he's got a point. you blink. “true. anyway, like i was saying, when he does get here… wait for me to open the door, and then you can jump on daddy, yeah?”
“can we shout too?”
“i don't see why not. but no bad words, you - just because you've heard matty say them doesn't mean you can,” you point at connor, before turning to cara. “and no screaming from you, you hear me?”
“yes, mummy.”
“good,” your eyes widen at the sound of the front door opening, closely followed by george shouting a greeting as he dumps his bag, and your voice shifts to a whisper. “quiet, now, alright? let's see how long it takes daddy to find us.”
there's a whispered chorus of agreements, and then - miraculously - your kids go silent, aside from the quick little huffs of air signifying silent giggling; these get more frequent when you all hear george wandering around downstairs, calling your names in turn and humming to himself in bewilderment. when his footsteps become audible on the stairs, cara practically wraps herself around your arm, all but shaking with kinetic energy and clutching her brother's hand as they hear their father reach the landing.
you, too, are laughing to yourself as you listen to george opening and closing doors in search, monologuing as he goes. “nowhere to be seen and they've left every bloody light in the building on. s'like blackpool illuminations,” comes the gravel grumbling so characteristic to the love of your life, as he wanders into what you know is the bathroom; he sniffs loudly, and you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from cackling. “strawberry shampoo… cara's bedtime routine. maybe everyone's in,” another door opens. “here! oh. empty. must be in connor's room, then.”
three strides across the landing, and there he is - george, his tiredness obvious even through the tiny crack between wardrobe doors. he turns slowly, taking in the emptiness of the room (and making your heart glow when you catch a glimpse of his pretty face), and - as if by magic - stops with his back to the wardrobe, muttering “where are they?” to himself.
partially out of slight guilt for putting him through this, but mostly because you think connor and cara might explode if you make them wait any longer to surprise their dad, you push the wardrobe doors open. the kids fly out, little voices shouting “hi dad!” and “we're here!” as little bodies land on george's massive one; he gasps in shock, and you're extremely thankful for the victorian high ceilings in your house, because your husband's head (and the rest of him, probably) would absolutely have hit anything lower when he jumped in abject terror. he sinks to the floor, head in his hands. “jesus christ,” he sighs, before standing and tucking a kid under each arm, swinging them around and filling the room with laughter. “you meanies, surprising me like that. i thought you'd all run away and left me!”
“we would never,” you step forward, taking cara into your own arms and pecking george on the lips. “we like playing tricks on you too much.”
“yes, that one's obvious,” george rolls his eyes; his face breaks into a big smile, and he kisses your nose. “hi, by the way, angel. thanks for the interesting welcome home.”
“i wish i could take credit.”
“oh? it wasn't mummy?” george dramatically looks from kid to kid. “who's the evil genius among us, then?”
cara giggles, nuzzling her head into your neck. “connor.”
“reeeeeeeeally?” george cocks his head to look at his boy, who's grinning from ear to ear. “s'that right, munchkin? it was your idea?”
connor giggles. “yeah.”
“in that case, then,” george tickles your son through his t-shirt, smiling at the raucous giggles that follow - from cara, too, actually. “say sorry, and i'll stop.”
“sorry! sorrysorrysorry!” connor's laughs fade to little hums, and he snuggles into his dad while they both catch their breath. “mummy planned it though. tickle her!”
george winks at you. “oh, i will, later. but first,” he flicks your son on the nose. “bathtime? and then a bedtime story for the little ones?”
cara nods. “and then mummy and daddy bedtime?”
“once i've redone your hair, munchkin? i think so,” your husband smiles at you, eyes twinkling. “of sorts, at least. you up for that, sweetheart?”
“oh, absolutely.”
#mads muses#promptober75#mads does writing#dad!george#connor#cara#george daniel fanfiction#george daniel fanfic#george daniel fic#george daniel fluff#george daniel x reader#george x reader
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Happy Sunday peeps. I somehow managed to post three fics this week (thanks to my betas <3) and now I can finally return to my new long adventure. Fantasy fic. Thanks for tagging me @ironheartwriter
It opens the path for TK and Carlos look at each other, no obstructions between them, not even the veil of night. Carlos’ eyes grow larger, the fold between his eyebrows vanishing and the perfectly plush mouth wet from where his tongue darted out. He looks at him like TK is still wrapped in the bright light of his powers; unblinking, awed. The need to cover his chest grows until TK crosses his arms over it, heart thudding thickly-peacefully against it like it aims to meet Carlos’ gaze directly.
“Is there something wrong?” Owen asks, turning to TK as if to confirm that the man at the door is behaving strangely. TK barely manages to escape the draw of Carlos’ eyes to look at his father and shrug. He wonders if Elementals can enthrall people.
“No, uhm—” Carlos straightens his shoulders and offers his hand. “Good afternoon, Sir—”
“Owen is fine. Now please, unless there is a custom that is missing for you to enter homes, could you come in?"
Somehow, Carlos loses no height but seems smaller still as he steps through the front door and follows them to the living room. His eyes keep on flicking back to TK, whose gaze doesn’t waver.
“Carlos, I know I said it before but I can’t thank you enough for finding my son.” OPEN TAG &
@certifiedflower @corsage @butchreyes @carlos-in-glasses
@eclectic-sassycoweyes @welcometololaland @rmd-writes
@paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74
@tellmegoodbye @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader
@strandnreyes @reyesstrand @liminalmemories21
@orchidscript @goodways @carlos-tk @firstprince-history-huh
@nancys-braids @chicgeekgirl89 @pimento-playing-hopscotch
@emsprovisions @theghostofashton @decafdino
@bonheur-cafe @freneticfloetry @never-blooms
@irispurpurea @sanjuwrites @literateowl
@myohmine @honeybee-taskforce
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Hi! I love your lookism fics, I would love to see your take on Seongji Yuk x gn reader. Something sweet and simple would be great!
I see that you like using science metaphors and im curious to how many can you use in one fic. I’m a complete chemistry nerd 🤓 😂
THE MUNDANE . ⁺ ✦ SEONGJI YUK
In which an amateur stargazer finds that no, they do not teach biology in Cheonliang, and yes, gravity does in fact affect everything with mass. woah... gravitational fields.... woah inverse square law... woah, G.... ik you probably wanted more chemistry but I couldn't resist the physics gnawing away/// arghhh pairing: seongji yuk + gn reader warnings: prejudice (quite literally lookism) wc: 1.3k
LOOKISM MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION
There’s a monster living in the Cheonliang mountains.
A flutter of cloying kindness greets you when you first pull up to the rural village: tires burning on summer asphalt, senseless droning of cicadas, and warm rain seeping through your thin clothes. No rhyme or reason as to why you decided on this particular village to stop by; though, the rhyme might just be the hiccuping couplet of your pulse. Specifically, this pair of beats as your motorcycle drives past the tunnel; heavy, like two black holes encountering each other for the first time. Spinning, spinning. As the wheels on your bike do, naturally.
Six fingers and toes, he’s cursed by the gods! Hark, my children—
Newton’s theory of gravitation dictates any particle with matter attracts any other with a force inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. This is the inverse square law. It’s used for practical and theoretical applications, but it’s pretty useful when considering why people are drawn to something when they are close to it. Emotionally, physically, empathetically. Psychologically. See, once one begins to increase the proximity of two souls, there is a certain degree of attraction that occurs consequently.
Pray should you ever encounter this one, for he is but a merciless, mad beast.
It’s a stagnated hum that twines through the fields. Little kids begin the verse, and their elders finish it while you leisurely drive past. Over and over. They play hopscotch to the rhythm in their secluded playgrounds, clap their small hands to the beat, and seem to have no eerie feelings behind their bright smiles. A distorted tale, wound through with the modest price of one person’s dignity. There’s a basis for every tale, after all—bitterly warped to suit the storyteller’s perspective.
Do not pity the one abandoned by all.
Thus, when you begin the winding slopes through the fields and up around the mountains, it reduces the distance between you and the epicentre. You trust your gut. You believe (mostly) that what compels you to park your motorcycle on this particular trail is no madness, but rather a tangible, logical reason. A scientific one, if you will. You’re a mass, the monster of Cheonliang certainly is a mass—thus gravity objectively binds you both.
It’s not entirely implausible to suggest the rumours entice you as much as anything, but the heavy telescope bound to your vehicle is as good a reason as any to stop by this eve. And that: the buzz in your very cells, that seem to divide simply to tug you in the direction of the sprawled forest. Stargazing in Cheonliang it is, then.
Despite your idle curiosity, you don’t go looking: quietly setting up your equipment in a clearing where the breeze flows cleanly, like fragile forgiveness in a peaceful room. It’s a saccharine solitude—as sweet as tanghulu when you close your eyes.
“It’s dangerous.” Those are the first words you hear in this village that aren’t blighted by eerie insinuation. Here, where the mountain is solitary and sepulchral, that is the only time you find someone who isn’t the real monster in this mired town. Human, flesh and blood and warm.
“Isn’t everything?” You peer through the eyepiece experimentally, focusing on the calm tide in his voice—
“No need t’be a smartass.” His cadence becomes slightly rougher as you hear a dull thump; by the movement of syllables, you’d judge he just leaned against a tree. “Was a piece of friendly advice.”
Hmm. You look away from the sky that’s somehow cleared up—miserable grey giving way to faint periwinkle, then atrament smattered with incandescent freckles—then at the stranger peering right back at you.
“What should I be wary of, then?” There’s a relaxed sort of ease in your body, one you’re unfamiliar with.
He stares at you askance, as though you’re an idiot.
“Strangers,” he answers brusquely, pointing at himself. “Haven’t you heard the rumours about this place?”
“Oh.” You turn back to the equipment, leaning down to bring the height of the scope up comfortably. Stars, you think dreamily. “That stupid song? Here I thought you’d say boars or something.”
“Stupid song?” he echoes. “And you still went up?”
Six digits on his left hand as it sways downwards, six on the right hand nestled in his pocket. He’s tall, so much so that anyone would feel intimidated staring up at the guy. Close—he’s close by, which is perhaps why you gravitate towards him. Two masses, feeling greater force with greater proximity. This was the epicentre that drew you here.
“Is biology class illegal here or something?” you counter incredulously. “Do I need to pay attention to fear mongering?”
“No,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “I guess you don’t.”
It’s strange. Your first encounter with Seongji Yuk can only be classified as abnormal. Gazing at the massive bodies scattered across the heavens, it’s perhaps common sense that the man next to you interests you as much as those heavenly giants. He’s closer, after all—kneeling down beside you so he can peek up at stars just as large as him.
Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s simply science that ties the two of you together. He gives you his name, you offer yours in return. Seongji Yuk. Lying in the grass with damp seeping into your shirt, you ramble about astrophysics, while he carefully coats fruits in molten sugar. Shards as sharp as the words at the base of the mountain, though far sweeter.
He’s cautious—you can feel his eyes on you as you sit on his wooden steps. In fact, his eyes trail after you when dawn breaks and it’s time to move on to your original destination.
“I’ll come visit,” you vow, for the cycle of orbit has already begun. Two masses have drawn closer to each other, and naturally begin the spin round their counterpart.
“No one told you about stranger danger?” You’re too damn trusting: haloed in ditzy stars, the type in cartoons when characters hit their heads. Except it’s permanent, and you don’t look stupid, but rather awash in their glow.
“Everything’s dangerous,” you evade sheepishly, and that’s that.
Summer comes and goes, but it’s fine not bringing your telescope in the chill of autumn. After all, you’ve found something equally as captivating to stare at. Inky eyes, dotted with such a shine that it looks like a star’s emerged rather than a pupil.
It’s as if the year is put into distillation—monthly visits condensing into fortnightly ones, then weekly ones, before you’re driving the hour down to this place every few days. He’s made you a little space in his house: one where you can snooze on a spare futon with little worry for safety. For there’s no place more secure in a ‘monster’ lair than by the side of a so-called ‘monster’.
“Quit staring,” he warns, matter-of-factly while the axe collides with the wood on the stump—cleaved neatly in two, almost too cleanly.
“You’re pretty, I just can’t help it,” you sigh, leaning back on the creaky porch. There’s a book by your side: a thick text filled with particles and numbing quanta.
You’re strange. He’s had this thought for a while, but especially today. In fact, you may be more supernatural than he, for each time you say such things, his heart skips one or two beats. Like clockwork, the mechanical nature of your spell is guaranteed: mouth going somewhat dry, ears seeping with a faint crimson, eyebrows creasing minutely.
Why?
“Have you seen yourself?” you counter incredulously, and that is when he realises he did not keep his thoughts silent. “You’ve literally got stars in your eyes, man. You….”
Ah. It’s moments like these where he feels so utterly ordinary; listening to you ramble on about things he doesn’t particularly understand, just like anyone else his age.
It’s nice being bound to someone like this: close to another, experiencing the gravity that draws two people together for himself.
Science is a perfectly plausible thing to believe in, after all.
#slowd1ving#res ・゚ writing#x reader#x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#lookism#lookism x reader#lookism x gn reader#seongji yuk#seongji yook#seongji yuk x reader#ask slowd1ving#physics YAP#certified physics yapper#fluff#gender neutral mc#request
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WIP Wednesday!!! I can’t believe I both have something to share today AND am kicking us off☺️ (from my 5x05 coda) (I made this header really quickly and will not be taking any constructive criticism at this time including compliments bc I will not believe them🤭)
“I remember my mom’s eyes when she looked at him.. she looked so in love.. I mean I was fifteen so I thought it was disgusting at the time but..” he mumbles sleepily.
TK can’t help but let out another short laugh. “That sounds like a really good memory.” he says softly, his hand moving from the back of Carlos’ head to gently brush a thumb over his temple. It catches on the edge of his eye, TK’s own eyes catching on Carlos’ even though they’re closed; on the relaxed softness around them, the lashes fanning out over his cheeks.
“Yeah.” Carlos sighs. The single breath holds both happiness from the memory and sadness. The same feelings rush through TK, like they’re being transferred between them by the breaths they share, just as their pleasure had been earlier, by their hands and lips and tongues.
OPEN TAG AS ALWAYS!!! Plus no pressure tags under the cut:
@meditating-honey-badger @the-126-family @goodways @whatsintheboxmh
@corsage @ironheartwriter @nisbanisba @thoughtsickles
@emsprovisions @nancys-braids @your-catfish-friend @rmd-writes
@goldenskykaysani @captain-gillian @strandnreyes @ladytessa74
@alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @herefortarlos
@heartstringsduet @paperstorm @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @pimento-playing-hopscotch
@literateowl @lemonlyman-dotcom @welcometololaland @sapphic--kiwi
@reyesstrand @theghostofashton @lonestardust
#my writing#wip wednesday#5x5 coda#Tarlos fanfiction#mar writes something#911ls fanfiction#911 lone star#my wip’s#mar tags
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I can request for some Hoppy Hopscotch x KickinChicken headcanons, please?
Of course, here you go you beautiful queen!!
HOPKICK HEADCANONS
• They're both very competitive at sports (Hoppy always ends up winning tho)
• They've known each other for 6 years and met when they were 6 years old
• Kickin has been in love with Hoppy for 5 years now and Hoppy has been in love with Kickin for 4 years now
• Hoppy will NEVER admit that she's in love with Kickin to her friends
• When Kickin was 7-9 years old, he thought he just had a small crush on Hoppy but when he turned 10 years old, he realize his feeling for her was so much more than and when that happened...OH MAN! DID IT HIT HIM LIKE A TRUCK.
• They're both pansexual
• Kickin is completely smitten, infatuated, and HEAD OVER HEELS for this little green bunny
• Kickin is the biggest simp imaginable
(Dogday comes at 2nd place however when it comes to who's the biggest simp Kickin wins every time)
• Kickin likes to play with Hoppy ears for funsies
• Hoppy likes to mess with Kickin's hair to annoy him
• Kickin will often call Hoppy hot nonchalantly in front of their friends
• They'll call/texts/facetime each other for at least 3 hours a day
• How they text each other:
Kickin: Yo Hops!
Hoppy: Hey KC! Wassup bro?
Kickin: Check this out!
*insert curse video/picture*
Hoppy: LMAO WTF IS THAT BRO?! 😭💀
Kickin: IDK LOL FJFEBYGE💀💀 1!1!11!!1
• Hoppy will often help Kickin babysit his baby sister CeeCee whenever his parents go out
• Kickin is always trying his best to take Hoppy to the Moon (he promised himself he would take her to the Moon)
• Hoppy has a great relationship with Charlotte and Randy (Kickin's parents) and sees her as a nice, fun, energetic girl who would be a good girlfriend for Kickin
• Kickin has a great relationship with Holly and Henry (Hoppy's parents) and sees him as a nice, wild, adventurous, and carefree boy who would be a good boyfriend for Hoppy
• Kickin is pretty intimidated by Hoppy's father (he's 6'6, buff, and is a boxer)
• Randy loves teasing Kickin because he knows that he's in love with Hoppy
Imagine something like this:
*Randy is walking outside only to notice that Kickin is admiring Hoppy from the distance*
Randy: Hey buddy, whatcha doing? Are you checking out your.... GIRLFRIEND!!!!
Kickin: *immediately gets flustered and angry* "DAD! C'MON WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"
• Kickin tries to help Hoppy with her anger issues (breathing lessons, stress toys, etc..) and Hoppy tries to help out Kickin with his insecurities
• Kickin sometimes will ask Hoppy questions about her ADHD so that way he can understand it a bit better
• Bobby, Picky, and Crafty ships those two SO HARD. Like- they'll write fanfics, draw fanart, and they'll giggle and squeal from the distance every time they see Hoppy and Kickin do something cute
• One time Hoppy walked in on Bobby writing a Hoppy x Kickin fanfiction with a bunch of fanart scattered all over the floor. Let's just say the tension between those two for the rest of the day was.... awkward
• The girls be having literal competition to see who can draw the best Hopkick ship art (spoiler alert. It's always Crafty)
• Dogday and Bobby often set up Hoppy and Kickin on blind dates multiple times
• Dogday, Bubba and Catnap are Kickin's wingmen when he tries to ask Hoppy out on a date
Bobby: Soo.. are you two dating?
Kickin and Hoppy: WE'RE NOT DATING!!
*proceeds to make out 2.5 seconds later*
• Kickin likes to collect cool looking rocks and give them to Hoppy as a gift. He also likes to pick wildflowers and make a bouquet out of them as gifts
• Hoppy likes to make homemade trinkets and give them to Kickin
• Kickin likes to make shell necklaces and bracelets for Hoppy
• Kickin loves to tease Hoppy for being the shortest in the group (even though he's the shortest boy in the group 💀)
• They often have playful banter together
(not like anything weird just two kids playfully making fun of each other)
• They like to go around the neighborhood and Ding Dong Ditch strangers
• They like to prank call random numbers
• After Kickin found out that Hoppy loves spicy food he started constantly buy her spicy food and giving it to her as a gift
• They like playing videogames together (it's a 50/50 percent that Hoppy or Kickin will win)
• One time Kickin accidentally broke Hoppy's leg while playing soccer and had to rush to the ER (she didn't talk to him for 2 weeks after that incident)
• Whenever Kickin visited Hoppy at the hospital, he would bring her flowers and heartfelt written cards and he would be profusely apologizing to her (sometimes he would actually cry while apologizing)
• Kickin HATED himself for WEEKS after the "Leg incident"
(he would cry himself to sleep every night during those weeks) (bro was just a mess)
• Sometimes he would offer Hoppy some of his gum
• Their favorite activity to do together is bothering Bubba while he's trying to work on something or reading
• He thinks that Hoppy is the prettiest girl in the group (he thinks all the girls are very pretty however, he thinks that Hoppy is the prettiest)
• Same thing for Hoppy, she thinks that Kickin is the cutest boy in the group (she thinks all of boys are pretty cute however, she just thinks Kickin is the cutest)
• They like to playful wrestle each other and armwrestle (Hoppy always beats him)
Kickin: You look pretty...
Hoppy: Wait, what did you just say?
Kickin: AH! I SAID YOU LOOK SHITTY!! GOOD BYE!!! *runs off*
(I can see him doing this)
• Anytime Bobby asks if Hoppy will ever date Kickin, she'll scoff and just say "Oh please! Like I would ever date that dork!!" (she would date that dork)
• Every time Kickin smells peppermint, he immediately think of Hoppy and Every time Hoppy smells ylang-ylang, she immediately think of Kickin
• This is what pretty much went down after they kissed for the first time: *the boys chilling at Dogday's clubhouse except Kickin*
Kickin: *slam DD's door open* *huff* *huff* GUYS!!!
Bubba: Hey Kickin, you already? Why you coming up here huffing and puffing like that? What happened?
Kickin: I-I kissed Hoppy...
Bubba: Are you serious?
Kickin: Yeah, I'm serious dude...
Bubba: Woah.... I owe Bobby and Dogday so much money now..
•Hoppy's and Kickin's relationship/dynamic = same person but the opposite gender/the two dumbasses that are in love
• They love going to the beach together
• They'll often listen to Toy-Box together
• Their favorite TV show to watch together is Invader Zim
• Kickin taught Hoppy how to surf
• Kickin likes giving Hoppy piggyback rides and Hoppy likes carrying Kickin bridal style
• They have matching bracelets
• Hoppy CANNOT eat fried chicken in front of Kickin because every time she does, he'll just stare at her with betrayal in his eyes
• Whenever Bubba found out Hoppy is love with Kickin, he was beyond shock, stunned, and flabbergasted because who in the right mind would deal with Kickin's crap!? (Hoppy would)
• One time the Smiling Critters were all playing Truth or Dare and it was Kickin's turn
Dogday: Okay Kickin, truth or dare?
Kickin: Hmm..I pick dare!
Dogday: *softly chuckles* Okay then...I dare you to say "I love you" to Hop-
Kickin: I FUCKING LOVE YOU HOPSCOTCH!!!!
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Dogday: Uhhh...okay then who's next?
• Kickin has a secret sketchbook that he keeps under his mattress that is just COVERED in doodles of Hoppy with tiny pink and red hearts all over the pages
• During the winter time if Kickin sees that Hoppy isn't wearing a jacket or scarf, he'll take off his jacket or scarf and put it on her without hesitation
• Kickin gets really embarrassed when he clucks mid laughing in front of Hoppy but she thinks it's really funny and cute
• Kickin thinks it's really funny and kinda cute whenever Hoppy stomps her foot when she's angry
• Kickin finds that weirdly attractive when Hoppy holds her plays with her ears
• One time Kickin tried to build a wooden rocket so he could take Hoppy to the Moon but it fell apart. He was so upset with himself and started crying because, he thought he failed her but she promised him that she wasn't upset with him at all and was actually very proud and impressed that he did all that just for her. He may not have been able to take her to the Moon, but he did create a beautiful memory for her
(this is based off that one really cute SC comic)
• OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! OKAY HEAR ME OUT ON THIS I JUST HAVE THE CUTEST HEADCANON EVER!!
IMAGINE THIS.
It's a dark, chilly, night and Hoppy and Kickin are cuddling on top of a grassy hill while admiring the Moon and stars
Hoppy: Wow, I love stargazing with you..the Moon is just so *sigh* beautiful...
Kickin: Heh! Yeah it sure is...
*Looks at Hoppy for a quick second*
Kickin: But it's not nearly as beautiful as you...
Hoppy: *looks at him, blushes, and looks back at the Moon*
me while writing this headcanon:
• During molting season Kickin gets very insecure due to the his lack of feathers and thinks he's ugly and that Hoppy won't like him anymore because he's "ugly" now. But she'll always tell him that she doesn't care what he looks like and still loves him while cuddling him and giving him soft kisses all over his face
• Hoppy is the only one who's allowed to see Kickin during molting season
• When the girls found out that Hoppy is in love with Kickin, they started loudly squealing and giggling like a bunch of 7 years old little girls and Bobby started screaming "I KNEW IT!" "I KNEW IT!" "I KNEW IT!" "I KNEW IT ALL ALONG!!" "IT IS TRUE!!! " "YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HIM!!!!!" then Picky and Crafty join in as well "I'M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT!!" "THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!!"
• Kickin will often go to Bobby for dating advice
• They love gossiping together
• Hoppy will just randomly invite herself to Kickin's house and spend the night there
• They'll often protect each other from mean older kids
• Hoppy likes it when Kickin treats her injuries from either from playing in the field too roughly or protecting someone from some mean kids
• Kickin is not afraid to get into a physical or verbal fight for Hoppy
• Every time Hoppy wears Lipstick or Lip gloss, she'll leave hundreds of little kissy marks all over Kickin's face
• Whenever Kickin kisses Hoppy, he likes to make a loud MWAH sound (it doesn't matter where he's kissing her. cheeks, forehead, lips, hands, etc...)
• They're constantly making each other laugh with dark and dirty jokes
• The Smiling Critters constantly "joke" about how Kickin and Hoppy should date
• They have the most immature humor of the group, like- if they here's something that sounds slightly perverted they'll look at each other really quick and start laughing their ass off
• When Kickin is alone he'll make a yellow chicken peep and a green bunny peep kiss and pretend that it's him and Hoppy kissing
• Kickin will practice kissing by using a pillow that has a picture of Hoppy on it
• Kickin will practice flirting by talking to himself in the mirror pretending that it's Hoppy
• Kickin is a good cook meanwhile Hoppy SUCKS at cooking so, he'll give advice and cooking lessons
• Sometimes Kickin will make Hoppy her favorite snack when she's having a bad day
• Hoppy likes to grab Kickin by his necklace and give him a big ol' kiss on the cheek to startle him which causes him to lose some feathers and he'll just look at her then have the biggest smile on his face and he'll start laughing while being red as a strawberry
(did you know chickens lose their feathers when they're shocked or startled?)
• Kickin admirers Hoppy while she's skating and Hoppy admirers Kickin while he's surfing
• Kickin may or may not be constantly fantasizing about his wedding day with Hoppy
• If Hoppy and Kickin ever got married their honeymoon would be going to the moon
• Whenever Hoppy gives Kickin flowers he'll act all cool and nonchalant about it, meanwhile he's screaming and crying of happiness on the inside
• Kickin tries his best to comfort Hoppy when she's at her lowest (Hoppy does the same for him)
• They love watching the fireworks together
• Every time Kickin sees Hoppy in a pretty outfit he nearly faints Example:
Hoppy: All right, Kicks whatcha think?
*insert Hoppy in a pretty dress*
Kickin: .....
Hoppy: Uhhh, KC? You okay buddy?
Kickin: Oh.. god... * falls and faints*
Hoppy: OH CRAP! KICKIN!!!
• Kickin will help out Hoppy with her exercises
• They to explorer abandoned building
• Kickin is constantly breaking or chipping his star pendant and Hoppy is constantly fixing it for him
• Kickin written a song that was inspired and dedicated to Hoppy and he named it "Hopscotch"
wow a song named after a girl.. how original Kickin
• Kickin may act all cool and confident around the group but as soon as Hoppy is around him, that "cool and confident" act is completely gone. He starts acting nervous, stuttering over his words, his face becomes red, starts getting sweaty, and getting chicken skin WHILE BEING A LITERAL CHICKEN. Hoppy obviously notices this and tries to help him but IT ONLY MAKES IT 10 TIMES WORSE.
• They'll roast each other for about 25-30 minutes straight while the others are just watching and enjoying it in the background (they're affectionately roasting each other)
• They're constantly getting into all kinds of trouble
• Kickin SUCKS at flirting like- he'll walk up to Hoppy all cool and confident and some crap like "Hey Hopscotch, you dropped something.. my jaw " or "Did you sit on some sugar? Cuz you got a pretty sweet ass" and she'll just look at him, chuckle, roll her eyes, and walk away (it's so bad that it somehow works)
• Every time Hoppy flirts with Kickin, he turns into a complete PATHETIC LITTLE LOSER. His face will turn bright red like a strawberry, he'll laugh sheepishly while looking away, he'll start sweating, stuttering over his words, and just becomes a complete HOT MESS
• Kickin is Hoppy's personal cheerleader
Girl boss x Male wife coded
• Whenever they have a movie night, Kickin likes to make a makeshift nest made out of pillows and blankets so him and Hoppy can cuddle
• Every time Kickin puts his arm around Hoppy, he acts all cool and confident but mentally he's freaking out
• They both have agreed that Catnap is super creepy
• They'll often have dance and singing battles
• They like reading comic books together
Hoppy: Is Kickin here?
Kickin: *whispers* Oh crap...
Bubba: Umm.. You know what-
Kickin: *crashes out of the window*
Bubba: He just left.
Hoppy: Really?
Bubba: Yeah...
Kickin: *comes back to the window grabs his star pendant then dips again*
Bubba: Sorry..
• When Hoppy finally told Kickin that she's in love with him, he got nervous, didn't know what to say, and just blurted out in the heat of the moment "Dude no way, that's so rad!!"
(they started dating shortly after)
• They were around 14 years old when they started dating
• Whenever everyone found out they started dating they all were pretty supportive of their relationship...except for Henry..
(it took some convincing but eventually he was okay with it)
• Hoppy calls Kickin "Kicks/KC" "Starlight"/"Superstar/Stardust" "Chicky-Poo" "Babe/Baby" "Hottie" "Cutie" "Dork" "Dummy/Dum-Dum"
• Kickin calls Hoppy "Hops"/"Hopscotch" "Bunny" "Hunny-Bunny" "Bun-Bun" "Hottie" "Cutie" "Babe/Baby" "Suga' Muffin" "Toots"
• When the girls found out that Kickin and Hoppy are dating they FREAKED OUT. They started full-blown screaming, squealing, crying of happiness, and started asking a bunch of questions
"WHEN DID Y'ALL START DATING?!" "WHAT TYPE OF CUTE PET NAMES TO CALL EACH OTHER?!?" "WHAT ARE YOUR DATES LIKE!?!" "HAVE Y'ALL KISSED YET!?" "WHEN IS HE GOING TO PROPOSE!?!!?" "WHEN'S THE WEDDING!!?" "WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE CHILDREN!!??!" Meanwhile Hoppy is like "GIRLS CHILL OUT! ME AND HIM JUST STARTED DATING!!"
(they practically blew her ears while asking are these questions)
• When the boys found out that Kickin and Hoppy are dating they were pretty chill about it
"Hey guys, guess what!" "What is it Kickin?" "Me and Hoppy are dating!" "Really?...That's cool" "Oh, good for you Kickin" Annnnnd there's Dogday... "WAIT WHAT?!??!" "ARE YOU SERIOUS!!?!" "OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!" "PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SERIOUS!!" "I'M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW!!!" "THIS IS INCREDIBLE!!" "THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!" "I'M SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW!!"
Dogday has basically been a Hopkick shipper since the very beginning... alongside the ladies of course..
Bubba: Seriously! what do you see in that guy?!
Hoppy: He makes me laugh
• Sometimes Hoppy will grab Kickin's hand and run with him while yelling "MY BOYFRIEND IS SO MUCH HOTTER AND BETTER THAN YOURS!!!" and Kickin would just be laughing with the biggest grin on his face
• Kickin feels like he doesn't deserve such a fun, cool, and pretty girl like Hoppy. He think she deserves so much better than him
• He'll sometimes have nightmares about Hoppy leaving him for a different person
• MINI STORYTIME!! (with a sweet ending)
One time at a sleepover, Kickin was having a horrible nightmare about Hoppy leaving him for someone else and when he confronted her about it, she just flat out told him "I never loved you" and "I just felt sorry for you". He couldn't believe what he was hearing. what he was seeing. It felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest and stomped on right in front of him. he was just hoping this was just one bad dream. he was about to cry. he wanted to scream. he just wanted to wake up. then suddenly..
Kickin: *GASP*
He finally woke up from that dreaded nightmare... His heart was beating faster than Hoppy after drinking 10 energy drinks. He looked at the clock, It said 2:50 am.. then he looked around the dark room to see his friends peacefully sleeping then he looked at Hoppy who peacefully sleeping her worries away. He wanted to wake her up and cry to her but he would feel like such a jerk if he did so, he tried going back to sleep... but he couldn't no matter how hard he tried.. he just couldn't. So he just laid there in the dark, trying not to cry, and just thinking to himself "what just happened?" He couldn't help it anymore. He just started quietly crying to himself. Then suddenly he heard Hoppy waking up
Hoppy: *yawns* Kickin? What are you doing up so early? It almost 3:00 in the morni-*soft gasp*
She looked at Kickin, who's clearly been crying for almost 5 minutes now
Hoppy: Kicks, are you okay? Why are you crying buddy?
Kickin: Oh! Hey Hops.. sorry if I woke ya up...
Hoppy: No, you didn't but that doesn't matter. What matters is why are you cryin-
Kickin: You love me right?
Hoppy: W-What?
Kickin: You don't feel sorry for me and you're not going to leave me for someone else right?
Hoppy: Where are you getting all of this?
Kickin: I had a nightmare about you leaving me for someone else..
Hoppy: Oh babe.. *hugs him* don't let some silly nightmare get to you.. I love you
She said as she was fixing his hair
Kickin: Really? You do?
Hoppy: I really do, I love you to the Moon and back *mwah*
Kickin: I love you too suga' muffin.. *yawns*
Hoppy: You still tired?
Kickin: Yeah..
Hoppy: You wanna cuddle?
Kickin: Yeah, that would be nice..
They lay down, cuddled, and embrace each other's warmth until they fell asleep...but little bit they know Bobby was awake the entire time and silently squealing and was secretly recording the entire conversation while silently giggling to herself
(This is my first time ever writing a mini story so PLEASE go easy on me)
That's all for now!
*I will add more later*
🚫THE ART ABOVE IS NOT MINE!🚫
I'm finally done! I'm so sorry this took so long to write Val but I hope you like it! :D
#poppy playtime#smiling critters#kickinchicken#hoppy hopscotch#hoppy hopscotch x kickinchicken#kickinchicken x hoppy hopscotch#hopkick#smiling critters headcanons#kicken x hoppy nation rise 🦅🦅🦅🗣️🗣️#ask dollie#shootingstar
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