#People were loosing their minds over that thing lmfao

[mushroominaforest]

Since it’s spooky month, let me show you all my incredible halloween costume from last year:

And some pictures of me out on halloween night:

[goldfades]

I was just thinking of how much a troll the manager is on twitter. I'm gonna delve into how the manager is with managing social media for the girls later, cuz girly does a LOT and is TIRED, she runs all departments.

But no she really is a troll frl. She's not really active on twitter as far as doom scrolling but she'll comment here and there. I can totally see her roasting people who say anything flavorful about any of her girls, or even the few friends she's made with other basketball players.

Some examples:

"Womp Womp" (YOU CAN'T TELL ME SHE DOESN'T USE THIS)

"Your teachers handed your tests back to you upside down, huh?"

"You look drop shipped."

"Your entire value has an expiration date."

"You look easy to draw."

"I bet you eat fried chicken with a fork."

Also with the condescendiiing

"Baby, Imma hold your hand when I say this."

"My love, milk expires before it hits your stomach, you have longer things to worry about than some girls playing ball."

"Oooo so close! If she were to have ate shit (aka you) the worlds average IQ would've increased. Hope this helps!

--

User9: You just always look like a bitch huh?

Manager: Why yes! Just like you hide your face so you don't get charged with public indecency. Glad we're on the same page! xoxo

---

She let's loose a bit on twitter, but she totally strikes me as someone who will roast you, professionally......sometimes. We know she roasts the girls on a day to day basis so nobody should be suprised.

I also lowkey see her going back and forth with Angel, playfully of course, but damn it's something that you just had to be there for.

Manager joining instagram/tiktok lives with other basketball players and the Uconn team being in the live comments like "??? and what do you think you're doing here?"

---

Also imagine this: Manager is at a basketball game right, not a Uconn one, just enjoying herself right?

An interviewer walks up to her (girly is popularrrrr) and starts asking her a few question, and the manager doesn't mind answering some cuz yk, the games over anyways so.

All of a sudden the interviewer goes, "So, what do you think about Kate?" & the manager just goes "Uh...which one?"

"Kate Martin? I mean who else?" whilst laughing

Now one thing out of the many things that we've discussed here is the the manager has a what? attitude. She's also very sarcastic, so obviously, she responded accordingly.

"Oh?," she laughs out "I wasn't aware that she was the only Kate to exist within the community, my apologies..." and then went on to answer LMFAO

There was edits using clips from that interview after.

---

Manager: I'm resigning from my position at uconn

Posted: April 1

paigebueckers1: that just gave me a heart attack

>manager: i'm the only one that could get your heart racing like that

kkarold: girly....

>manager: yes pookie?🥺

MuhlNika: As if we'd let you

>manager:....what do you mean by that?

>paigebueckers1: you really think you could get away from us that easily?🤣

>MuhlNika: Twin let her find out

>manager: what is this behavior...🧌

>kkarnold: together forever bookie🤞

>manager: I need an adult😀

-🐹

HELPPPP YES😭😭😭 and geno gets mad at her and is like "why would you.... just why???" and manager would just be like smirking cause they can't get in THAT much trouble yk

paigebueckers1: that just gave me a heart attack

>manager: i'm the only one that could get your heart racing like that

^^^ this whole thing set the whole manager x paige people on FIREEE like yes, this is proof 💕

[the-lesbian-orpheus]

SCARS DEATH. THE DESERT DUO OF OT ALL. THE THIRD LIFE FLASHBACKS “it’s the ultimate betrayal”-G “you can’t just shoot a man in the back” -S “course I can” -G

Also Grian was starting to apologize- season one vibes but he goes “I’m s-“ and when he hears scar say you can’t do this- he changes his mind says he can LIKE- AHHH

Also the last thing scar hears before dying is G yelling “gotta go” which I know was in like a joke ish tone but THE ANGST POTENTIAL

Afkshskvdjajdhakdhiahdjqltusvxekakxtaldvjdjdgwudjgsjsbfhwidjhaidhskhduakdhjsbdvksksjdjakhd

“We’ve learned never turn our back on grian” ON THE FLOOR CRYING PUNCHING MY PILLOW AH who cares if he was just chillin in spectator mode the animatic people can do a lot with this.

These grown ass adults sitting behind their computers controlling little blocks have altered my fucking brain chemistry I can’t even- the block people are everything to me. Like I thought the canary curse and Joel’s response made go insane but this. THIS.

I don’t think I will get over limited life any time soon like all the 3rd life and double life parallels- even some last life moments I just- AHFSSKJH

Also here are more details that made me loose my mind in this section

-scar was behind grian while watching the chaos when he died even though he was cheering for everyone G was separate and he was near G

-Cleo died almost immediately after scar and the clockers were officially dead

- just scar mention getting shot/stabbed in the back at their little family reunion in the sky I-

-scar eagerly watching Grians death only to watch him walk away safe with a member of his own “family”. Also not to take away from the moment but scar writing dad i want to kill you now in the chat was hilarious to me idk why

-from Grians perspective early on: I was gonna cut scar some slack, but not anymore

- also in Grian’s perspective you can actually hear him say I’m sorry before the I’m s- and it’s so third life I can’t even

-“I did scar so dirty there- it was- he was- he had his back turned”

-Also the two of them goofing off in the sky in the end just funny and cute reunion

Also grian kept mentioning how he was lost without his bad boys(so real), but even though he had made an alliance, he spent around half of his episode focusing on scar and his team until they were gone. HAGSJAHHSKAGDJA Also, the fact that he is now a nosy neighbor which has BIGB of all people, and yet he does a 180 from double life and focuses on scar like AHH. and I could go into a whole side thing about sky sibling but not the time. Also don’t even get me started on grians “I can rebuild” moment and him running out of materials and clinging to he bad boys as his time ticks down because that can be a whole other ramble post. THIS is just my dessert duo brainworms lmfao

Time to listen to tongues and teeth on repeat for the s1 and s3 feels

If you actually read all that thanks for listening to my word vomit. :))

I will probably end up with lots more ramble posts when I finish all my usual perspectives so buckle in

EDIT: APPARENTLY GRIAN SAID “you gotta go” THATS SO MUCH WORSE/BETTER AJDHAKSHGAHAHSJ

[shoezuki]

Drunk Gep anon back at it again. How bout I call myself Whiskey🥃?

Fully agree. Dude didn't make it to Captain of the guard with little noodle arms and a weak stomach. I'dimagine Sampo'sbeen slung over his shoulder more than once lmfao. He's defo been shoving bite-sized anything in his gob since he could crawl.

Also love earnest Gep!!! Gepard being all soft and inquiring. Bet Sampo isn't used to havin someone so genuinely interested/knowing of him but so gentle about it, with no ulterior motive. He's got Natasha but she's more the loving yet serious sister who damn near KOs him with the first aid kit when he tries to sneak out whilst injured. Now you've got my head spinnin with ideas!!

May we also consider:

Sampo fucks up. Geppie started gettin soft, not quite drunk but enough to loosen him into sayin things that make Sampo's heart warm and hands fidget, and he just stopped keeping track of his drinks.

He's on cloud 9. Maybe? He's not exactly ecstatic but he's havin a pretty grand time. Maybe cloud 7? He doesn't remember when they left the bar but they've been wandering about for so long it's gotten dark and his mind's too foggy to recognise where they are.

He's also too loose lipped, knows he's being too honest, that his attempts to play off his words as jokes is too long winded and fake but he also can't quite remember what he's said???

Gepard is havin a grand time. He's pretty out of it but can at least walk this time. Happy to trail after Sampo, ask questions about obscure places they pass in the Underworld and about the people, before working up to talk about Sampo himself. How he's a pain in the ass but he admires his work ethic yada yada. He's unfamiliar with the area so he's hoping Sampo knows where they're going. He doesn't.

Neither of em make it home. Not even into a building. Sampo wakes up in the geomarrow equivalent of a tree, doesn't fall purely because he's damn near tied to the thing. There's more half empty bottles on the floor and Gepard has absolutely no clue where his jacket is and Sampo does not own a cane that embezzled, where did he get that?

There's an attempted 'arrest' of course. Gep may be off duty but he's nothing if not devoted to his role. They don't make it far and Bronya/Seele find them half curled up on the floor, holding their heads up against the cold brick XD.

The previous night's open-hearted discussion is blurred but not forgotten.

~ 🥃

GBFJDV GODDDDDD ANON UR SOF RCEYEKE. GOD. FICK SHIT...

Sampo stumbling into gepard at a bar nursing a drink, not tipsy but still loose enough to tell sampo to leave rather than tryna arrest him right away. Sampo obviously staying cuz this is a Great Opportunity no way hes letting this chance to break down geps walls slip thru his fingers.

And just. Sampo wanting to get gepard to open up to him and break down his barriers. Totally to get info out of him of course its not like hes infatuated with the man and wants to know him underneath his position as captain.

Sampo doesnt realize hes getting drunk too, opening up himself. Doesnt realize hes actually having fun w gepard and enjoying talking with him. Doesnt realize hes actually answering gepards questions, telling both personal things about himself and small inconsequential things that arent important but gepard acts like they are.

Gepards genuine So SO genuine and earnest. All kinds of 'youre a hard worker you do help the underworld a lot even if you pretend you dont' and 'i know some of those tips about illegal operations were from you sampo thank you' and 'i admire how focused and strong you are. If only youd put the criminal stuff behind you' and sampo isnt sure if its the liquor or gepard hes drunk off of.

And it ending with gepard having the fucking worst hangover of his life, sampo tied to a large stalagmite passed out and snoring. Gepard like 'god my head hurts. That was the best night of my life. Time to arrest him i guess' and seele being the one to find em bickering halfheartedly while gepard keeps trying to get handcuffs on sampo

[hackedmotionsensors]

GOD SORRY LMFAO

I’M SORRY I’M RUNNING BEHIND AGAIN ON OPENING COMMS.

They’ll be open...probably tomorrow morning. I’m trying to use Ko-fi’s commission form so everything is nice and neat but I’ve not done this before so its kinda confusing lol 

Actually honestly its pretty clean and has lots of little add ons and stuff that make organizing things really nice but I’m not sure how things will look on your end or how they’ll look on my end when a comm comes in so if I goof something up on the first part I’m so so sorry lol

Also I know I was REALLY lowballing sketch coms before but I can’t afford, nor do I have the energy, to do 15$ commissions for sketches. So the base price for a black and white bust sketch will be 30$. Thats still really low all things considered but I want to make things ...cheap and fast and also...worth my time and energy. This is a reminder that that price is EXTREMELY low and that artists who charge a more sensible price than that are not over charging. I’m lowballing bc I’m fuckin broke lol

If that price is too high even little donations help me out in the long run so if you want you can leave a donation for as little as 3$? 6$?Just remember to leave a comment that its a donation so I know its not a request

I also have a few new rules so please be mindful of that. ↴

I’d say the most important rule is do not message me on any platform BUT ko-fi and if you commission me please check your ko-fi messages. Most likely I won’t have anything to say unless you’re sending me references. I have my DMs off on all platforms and I don’t really want to use my email unless I’m sending something to you. Ko-fi will be the only way to contact me and for me to contact you.

The other important one will be no real people. I’m sorry I feel uncomfortable drawing a real person being it you, your auntie, or an actor you like. (If its like...a live action character that’s different bc I’m just gonna make them anime anyway lol)

The other OTHER new rule will be I have to limit what I can draw from marvel. IT’LL BE IN THE POST but basically I’m still under NDA. You’re probably okay to ask for stevetony....bc they’re dead :)  (Also my crew was well aware of my ST shipping lol)   But you can dm me first to ask what is probably okay. I know i get a lot of BuckyTony which isn’t my thing but I know you guys are thirsty. But since Bucky is still in the current mcu I don’t know...if I’m allowed. Things like Billy, Tommy, Teddy....probably fine if its comic book based. Its WEIRD lol There’s a lot of grey and I just wanna be able to get hired again yknow?? lmfao Absolutely NO spider-man at all. AT ALL. I’m not risking it. 

Unless you were one of my crew members then (how’d you find this account???) ....i’ll just dm you privately lol

So yea if you’re interested in MCU, since I know a lot of people originally followed me for that....you gotta let me know first before sending your comm request in...I THINK?? I don’t exactly know who gets what first on the commission thing on ko-fi. 

and then the usual rules like please no gore, please no NSFW (spicy is fine but not explicit), Maximum 2 characters, try to keep them simple bc they’re sketches not fully rendered pieces, Furries are okay but not recommended (I’d rather send you to a furry artist with comms open since I’m primarily an anime artist ...more or less lol) , PLEASE be mindful of things that might make ME uncomfortable. I’m very VERY open minded and most things DON’T bother me but remember I’m not really an open NSFW artist or kink artist or anything like that. I know I can come off as really wild or loose minded (????) in terms of shipping but there’s been a few times I’ve felt really uncomfortable with comms and I just did them anyway bc I needed the money. You can always ask me ahead of time if you’re really unsure. When it comes to shipping what you might think is comfortable might make me VERY uncomfortable. 

lol THIS WILL ALL BE IN THE POST SORRY TO DUMP HERE  lol but i have more text space here

So yeah I need to make a graphic and then it should be up tomorrow.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #121

What’s the most recent album you’ve been really into? Last year Rammstein released Zeit and it took over my life rip in absolute fucking pieces

Where did you go the last time you were on an airplane? Home from visiting Sara in Illinois.

Do you know anyone who has autism? Multiple people.

Do you have a cat? I sure do, he's my baby.

Do you enjoy riding carousels? I did, when I could actually go on them. Not saying adults can't if it can hold their weight, but yeah I would NEVER be allowed on one lmao and my legs couldn't get me up there anyway.

Do you like elephants? Yes, they're absolutely amazing animals.

Do you know anyone named Emily? I used to. I would still like to, but she understandably left my life when I was a bigoted, ignorant, close-minded teenager.

Do you know anyone who can speak French? Not fluently. My mom apparently took it in school though and she still knows a few words, but that's it.

Do you prefer gold or silver jewelry? Silver.

What was the last flavor of ice cream you ate? Uh, I think it was chocolate at my niece's bday party in February?

Do you use Instagram often? I don't post a lot, but I scroll through my personal one every day.

Have you ever had key lime pie? Yes, and I hated it.

Do you know anyone who is pregnant? Yes. Semi-recently I had a super old friend from like, the end of middle school announce she was having her second child, another boy. A woman I took pictures for a lot is expecting her daughter real soon, too.

Do you have a Pinterest account? Yes.

What is one question you don’t like being asked? My weight and my employment situation.

Who is someone you know who is talkative? My nephew lmao

Have you ever read the Warriors series? bitch I was OBSESSED

Do you prefer skimpy bathing suits or modest ones? For me, I'm covering up as much as I can. If I LIKED my body, I'd maybe be fine again in a bikini, and people can rock revealing clothing of whatever sort all they want, but I'm too self-conscious for that, really.

Do you like the sounds of cicadas in the summer? Okay so the noise itself doesn't bother me at all, I quite like nature sounds, however I associate the noise with when it's way too fucking hot so I have a negative association with it, haha.

Have you ever taken your dog swimming? No, no dog we've ever had... I think. I don't recall ever seeing if a dog we've owned wanted to come in the pool with us. I do know Teddy and Cali (or maybe Dale? idr) got loose outside a couple times when we lived in the woods, and not all too far from our house across the cotton fields was a pond; they'd run over there and would at least wade in the banks. I wouldn't be surprised if Cali truly swam some haha, but I don't remember. Man, I miss those dogs.

Do you drink iced coffee? I don't drink any sort of coffee.

What do you buy most often at a gas station convenience store? A soda.

Favorite food at a cookout? Either burgers or hotdogs. In general I prefer burgers, but I don't like angus beef and sometimes the people who make them use white cheese, which I also don't like, and in those cases I'll do a hotdog instead. OH THIS REMINDS ME WITH HOW I ANSWERED, story about my mom when she moved from NY to NC: she came here used to "cookouts" meaning things like burgers and hotdogs, and the first time she went to one here in the South, she was dumbfounded to find a full fucking pig in the cooker lmfao. I'm not a fan of Southern-style cookouts like these, with pulled pork barbecue and shit.

Most hated food at a cookout? ^ oh, the aforementioned pulled pork. It's just so gross to me, taste-wise and texture-wise. Honestly I will eat almost absolutely nothing at a Southern-styled cookout because I genuinely loathe everything.

You and your SO’s dream vacation? Haha Girt actually doesn't really like vacations, he is such a homebody. We touched on this topic in this fun couples book we have, and I remember him saying he thinks he'd have the most fun at like, historical landmarks, which I'd also love to visit.

Do you go on family vacations? No.

Do you know anyone who legitimately is mentally ill? Yes? You're either mentally ill or you're not. I'm hoping by the use of "legitimately" (still a bad usage though honestly) you mean like, more on the severe end of mentally ill, in which case I think so. Girt's mother suffers with schizophrenia and has been hospitalized in the past for her mental wellbeing, but I don't know how regularly this happened/the last time it did, and she still deals with what's absolutely trauma over her husband dying super fucking suddenly. I don't ask Girt many questions about her mental health because I mean it's not my business and I also don't like making him talk about a topic that ties so heavily into his dad being gone. I just know enough to know she's been through a lot and still struggles.

Right now, would you rather be single or in a relationship? I have zero interest in leaving Girt, so in a relationship.

Boyfriend’s mom asks you to go to church with their family, do you go? Christ this might actually happen one day with how religious Shelia is, but my answer would be no, even if I'd be uncomfortable telling her that. I will never, ever, ever, ever give a church my service. Call it an overreaction, I just have so much hatred built up towards religion because of my own history with it from immediate childhood up through very early adulthood. It was full of nothing but crises of self, denial of my own sexuality, becoming a total shit asshole who couldn't accept people different from her... There's just so much pain and remorse that religion has caused me.

Do you say “love you” to any of your friends (not boyfriend)? Yeah, of course. I am so heavy on expressing platonic love.

Is your SO comfortable around your parents? I know he is around Mom, and I mean, I think he is around Dad. They barely ever, ever see each other, though, so have had few chances to interact since my parents split; he did come over when we were teenagers before the divorce, but that was SO many years ago.

How did you meet your newest friend? She was one of Girt's gaming buds and she learned that we both held a colossal adoration for Silent Hill 2 so she wanted to talk to me, haha. I was really super shy about it at first, but finally decided I needed to actually welcome when new, friendly people want to talk to me so reached out to her. She's lovely.

Have you ever been talked into doing something really uncomfortable? Maybe, I don't remember.

What do you lie about liking? Nothing, that's an awful idea.

What do you lie about DISliking? I also don't think there's anything.

Have you ever lied about something sexual you did or didn't do? No.

What states have you been to in the past year? I haven't left NC in that timeframe.

What year was your house built? I don't know the exact year, but Mom mentioned literally today in a conversation with my physical therapist that this house was built shortly after Hurricane Floyd, which happened in 1999.

Where were you the last time you kissed someone? My bed.

Do you have any uncommon interests or hobbies? Yeah, vulture culture art-type stuff.

What did you have for breakfast this morning? A meal replacement shake that I regularly have.

What is the last song you listened to in a car? It was Rammstein's "Armee der Tristen" this morning.

Do you know anyone who is terrified of dogs? I don’t think so.

What’s something that excites you about the future? The feeling that I'm going to get to spend it with Girt.

Are you going to be getting any new pets soon? Very unlikely.

Would you rather be a panda or grizzly bear? I think grizzly bear. They impress me more and their lives seem more interesting.

Do you like BBQ sauce? No, I actually hate it.

What were you doing at 9 AM this morning? I was at PT.

Do you hang out with your sibling's friends? No.

Do you like to eat cornbread? No, it's gross imo.

When was the last time you saw a deer? Been a long time, idk.

Do you eat turkey on Thanksgiving? No, turkey is just so dry and bland to me. I go for the ham.

Baked macaroni and cheese or regular? Regular, I don't like the texture of baked. I feel like I have put my pickiness with food in the spotlight throughout this survey lmao

Name one of your friends' children: Persephone. CHAMPION parents for picking that name, haha.

What was the name of your 5th grade teacher? Mrs. Whitley, who also taught me in the 2nd grade. It's insane, now her very own daughter, a bit younger than me, is another teacher in the same school literally down the hall from her. She's retiring this year and I'm hoping to visit her one day during like, a school workday or something, because she was my favorite teacher that I've ever had and I want to see her before she leaves. Will almost CERTAINLY cry lmao. No other teacher was more like a mom to me, I love her so much.

Have you ever been to a casino? No, and I don't want to go to one. It's not an environment I want to be in.

Who wrote the last book you read? Tui T. Sutherland.

What’s the middle name of your best friend? He doesn't have one, I'm assuming because he's already a junior. His sister has one, so it's not like his parents were against middle names.

Who in your family has a birthday in January? Off the very top of my head, I don't know anyone. I was supposed to be born in January, but I wasn't coming out for ANYTHING lmao, Mom had to be induced.

What’s your favorite flower? Orchids if we're talking just any flower in any color, but I also really like pink tulips.

Do you use any food delivery services such as UberEats, DoorDash, etc? No, that's not extra money we're willing to spend.

How far away is the closest Walmart? It's barely even like, two minutes from here.

Chick-fil-A, Taco Bell or McDonald’s? I feel like the whole of the world will crucify me for this, but I genuinely really like McDonald's lmfao

Do you know the capital of your state? Well yeah, Raleigh.

When’s the last time you ate any type of sweet? I had some Sour Patch yesterday, actually.

Pizza rolls or bagel bites? The former, I've never liked bagel bites all that much.

What kind of flooring is in the room you’re in? Carpet.

What’s your favorite scent? Cinnamon rolls, fresh baked bread, other baked goods, coffee, lilacs, yada yada.

What kind of pets does your grandmother have? My maternal grandmother had an insanely intelligent maltese named CC for a super long time; his passing was devastating for her. I'm pretty sure that's all that she had; she was insanely allergic to cats and most dogs, so she could only have hypoallergenic dogs. As much as I did NOT like that woman, it's a comforting thought that she really didn't have to live that many years without him. Now I have absolutely zero idea what pets Dad's mom had.

What’s the last show you really got into that you have to wait for the next season of? Extraordinary Attorney Woo!!! Fucking wonderful show that just made my heart SO damn warm, but Season 2 isn't coming for a while.

Have you ever witnessed a car accident? Yes; technically we were supposed to pull over, being witnesses, but the amount of traffic and also being on a highway made it impossible.

Sprinkles or frosting? Frosting, I hate sprinkles on literally anything.

Do you like mushrooms? Visually, absolutely. As food, hell no.

How old is your youngest sibling? She's going to be 25 in less than two weeks, EW.

Have you ever been swimming with dolphins? No, but I'd like to one day. Before meerkats, they were my favorite animal, and I still love them... even if they can be literal assholes haha.

What’s the last thing you ordered from a Mexican restaurant? I get the same thing everywhere: shrimp and cheese quesadilla with a side of cheesy rice. FUCK my period is due and I have been so insanely hungry leading up to it and now all I want is this. 😭

Do you carry a purse or a backpack? A purse.

What kind of soda is your favorite? Mountain Dew Voltage and strawberry Sunkist. I almost positively never drink the latter though because I will drink that shit so absurdly fast that I just don't let myself have it.

Have you ever cut yourself shaving? Oh for sure, on my legs anyway. I don't miss that shit.

What’s your Chick-fil-A order? I will literally only eat at Chick-fil-A if the people I'm with decide to go there, and it'd be an inconvenience to get me something elsewhere, and in that case I'll just always get a regular chicken sandwich with fries.

Regular or pink lemonade? Pink, but both are great.

Do you know anyone who’s lost their house in a natural disaster? In middle school, a classmate's house burned down.

Pizza or nacho Lunchables? Oh, the nachos one reigned SUPREME. I'd eat the pizza one, but it was so underwhelming.

Have you ever been inside of a courtroom? Yes.

Did you ever participate in any pageants when you were younger? Hell fucking no.

What kind of cheese is your favorite? American.

Have you ever had a professional massage? No, don't want one; that seems way too fuckin awkward for me.

What’s your Panera Bread order? I haven't tried that much from there, but what I've had hasn't impressed me? The bread is too hard and the taste is nothing special.

Who in your family has a birthday in April? My aforementioned younger sister Nicole as well as my brother Bobby. His bday is actually Earth Day.

Have you ever had your nails done professionally? Yeah, a few times Colleen would have me tag along to a salon she liked just to hang out and chat. I remember doing it once with my sisters, too.

What color Christmas tree do you use? Green... but when I move out I plan on getting a black one.

Have you ever been published in a magazine? At my last college, I became the school newspaper's official photographer, and there was one play I shot that they loved so much they dedicated multiple full pages to some pictures I took, and of course I was credited. ;_; That was one of the most exciting moments of my entire life, and it was prooooobably a career-building opportunity that I threw away by dropping out...

Is anyone in your family in law enforcement? No.

[whyareyouhere66]

Mike Faist x Fem Reader - His Smile

Just know I haven’t seen the Broadway musical- I’ve been watching clips of Mike Faist during the newsies to get his personality right lmfao, so I don’t know any other names, really.  

The large, yet crowded studio boomed with laughter, and cheers as the clock struck just after 7:32. It was late, the cast having stayed behind an extra half hour to practice for the upcoming show that Friday. 

You couldn’t help but pant slightly, despite the smile shown on your face, while taking a second to drink some water. Around you your friends were grabbing their own things, sweat collecting around the collar of their shirts. 

Clicks and clacks of tap shoes sounded from against the floor, fellow cast members still having them fitted onto their feet. The sounds of it pricked against your ears, but you, mid conversation, didn’t feel like leaving the loud room quite yet. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later, having all your things stuffed into your bag, that you were ready to leave. The clock now read 7:46, nearly an hour overtime. 

You carried your tired legs across the room, passing by a group of some of the leads who were leaving the dressing room. 

Some still had the classic newsies caps on their heads, their messy hair poking out from under. 

Among the group, was Mike- who had the honor of playing Morris Delancey. His brown hair was scattered across his forehead, the tips sticking to his skin from the sweat. A duffel bag was hanging loosely off his shoulder, bright smile plastered across his face.

“I’ll see you guys later.” You waved, small smile on your face. The group waved goodbye, a quick chorus of voices following swiftly- though your eyes never left those of Mike Faist.

He’d been on your mind quite a bit lately, you’d come to notice. You couldn’t pinpoint an exact time that it had started, nor could you try putting it into words. His presence was easy, comfortable. 

And even now, as you left the building and lead yourself down the paved sidewalks of the city, you wished to be with him once more- missing the light hearted conversation he always could carry out.

You turned the corner, adjusting the strap of your bag against your shoulder. You told yourself you’d walk down to one of the parks before returning to the hotel, walking past the other people who walked down the street.

Over the cars and chatter of people you heard your name, calling out for you just a bit behind. You turned instinctively, only to be met with the sight of an already sweaty Mike jogging down the sidewalk to catch up.

“Mike?” You asked, slowing to a stop as you waited for him to catch up. He had that same smile on his face, taking a second to catch his breathe as he stopped in front of you. 

“Y/n,” he nods in greeting, “just thought you’d like some company.” His joking tone made you smile, the two of you beginning to walk again. 

“I appreciate it.” you laugh, tucking your hands into your pant pockets. 

The friendly conversation carry’s out with ease, as you walked around corners to get to your original destination and he followed blindly.

“Sooo, favorite song so far?” His eyebrow lifted, tilting his head to look at you. 

“King of New York- easy.” You say, his face lighting up in agreement. 

“It’s so fun- isn’t it?”

“Exactly! The dancing is just-“

Before you knew it, big green fields were greeting you as you walked into the park. The sun was beginning to sink in the sky, an orange tint welcoming it at the edge of the horizon. Mike skipped a few steps ahead of you, turning around and walking backwards so he could continue to look at you through conversation. 

The sudden head on view of him made your smile grow, his body facing yours now as you talked, telling you he was listening with nothing more than eye contact.

“So- tomorrow.” He starts, one hand slipping into his pocket as the other held into the strap of his bag. 

“What about it?”

“Well,” he continues, and you noticed the small pink tint that danced across his cheeks. “I was wondering if you were free, y’know, for lunch or something.” 

As he spoke, it took you a moment to catch on. 

There would be times, during rehearsal especially, when you’d find him looking your way, anytime your eyes naturally found him in a crowd- only to find his had found you first.

In your denial, that always came with a new crush, you refused to think anything of it. Sometimes you thought it was foolish, feeling like a high school girl feeling all giddy and overthinking any glance or exchange. 

But now you found yourself, standing with the boy in the middle of some random park at sundown. His hand ran up and down the rough strap of his bag, patiently awaiting your answer.

Your lips had fallen slightly agape, before they turned up into a smile.

“Sure- yeah, no let’s do that.”

 His face brightens, both his and your cheeks hot as the blood flushed around them. 

You both simply stand there for a moment,  giddy like school children before he finally steps forward.

“Well, c’mon now, still gotta get back to the hotel-“ he chuckles, leading you forward once again. You felt his arm brushing against yours as you left the park, noticing the proximity shortening between you two. It seems more comfortable, more exciting than it had on the walk there- the heat flushing around your face keeping the smile locked on your features, even as your cheeks grew sore. 

The hotel eventually came into sight, the darkening sky shadowing over you, and that smile never left your face as Mike accompanied you through the doors, up the elevator, until parting at the door.

And hopefully, this would soon become a routine for the two of you. 

so I know that ending was kind of shit- this isn’t my best work yet, but I wanted to get it posted for you. I hope you enjoyed nonetheless, and have a wonderful day/night everybody <3

could i possibly send a request for newsiesera!mike faist x fem reader, please? preferably they’re in the cast together but totally take creative freedom with this!! thank you so so much!!!!!

Well yes of course! I meant to reply to this earlier, in hopes that I would’ve written it already, but I haven’t been able to yet. But as soon as I get home I can get started, and I’ll get that out for you!

[ziauhh]

Void success story part : 2 ♡

Hello motherfuckers 😏

So i shared my void journey in my previous post and you guys loved it so here i am with a part 2 bitches, but this one is gonna be more of my life after Void, also it can be a lil cheesy or intense for some people but i don't give a fuck i am just warning you, so let's go my whores 😭

Okay so it's the day two of me with my desires so i woke up the next morning and was as excited as the day before, again how can i forget to check up my phone so i did and again how can i not get notifications and my BF's sweet good morning message ( i mean best friend, honey it's only the second day don't you get that far ) and i was again drooling over him like he is so hot and handsome 🥵 ( we know it bitch now stfu ) and i also got a notify that i got 50k in my bank like what the actual fuck ! then i realised that i have a motherfucking math exam today but i wasn't scared of it ( like before i used to suck at math ) I hurried up got ready for school, then i told my mom to drop me there but she was like " You are such a lazy ass just go by yourself honey " and i was so confused why is she saying that but then she said go by your car okay do your exam well, then realisation hit me that i have my OWN CAR I KNOW HOW TO DRIVE IT I FUCKING KNOW HOW TO DRIVE ( before i didn't even knew how to start 😭 ) i went to the garage and I WAS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK it was a BLACK RANGE ROVER i went inside it took a brief view but i don't know why i wasn't feeling nervous or scared i started the car drove it all the way to my School but this time i wasn't the one who was too stunned but my friends they were like " OMG ZEE IS IT YOU, WE THOUGHT IT'S SOME MODEL OR CELEBRITY COMING DANG IT 😱 " Lol they all were staring at me like they never saw me before or am i really a celebrity 👀 hmm whatever i went to my class gave my exam it was easy af like i thought someone already gave me a copy of the question paper and i know all the fucking answers 😭 but when i would take breaks from writting all i found was lots of STARES at me, people weren't giving a shit about their exam they all were busy staring at me ( not trying to do showoff 💅💩 )

OKAY then time skips up to evening i was watching Bridgerton, then my mom ordered me to go buy some groceries OK MA'AM AS YOU SAY 🙂

At the grocery store : I was busy looking for stuffs and then this girl comes to me and starts talking she was so cute and extremely nice but then what she said made me loose my words - " well zee are you umm ...... Straight just because i found you so attractive and forget to tell i am a bi* so ........ ) my face was just like this emoji 😳 wtf what am i suppose to say but then i told her yes i am straight as a board and ran away 😭 she giggled and said bye like tell me wtf was that. yes i manifested being attractive but forgot i manifested being everyones crush EVERYONES FUCKING CRUSH but it was a cute interaction ( omg this bitch, i can't with her )

At night: i went out with my friends for a dinner to a really nice restaurant and found these really fine boys who are from my school they are those hot basketballers every gurl be a slut for, so they noticed me and started waving at me i did the same, then when we were outside the restaurant they came to have a conversation and one of them says " you are looking so hot today zee " i was blushing like a tomato LMFAO then i heard another voice which said " SHE ALWAYS LOOKS HOT, IT'S JUST YOU NEVER NOTICE IT ,BUT I DO " and guess what he was my fucking BF ( boy bestie huh you right 😭 ) this was the first time i say him face to face and i almost fainted bitch he looks much better in person ( will u please shut up 😑 ) i lost my mind their and even my heart ❤️ ( this crazy ass whore )

Yeah that's all happened that day and a lot more every single day, do tell me if you want more of ummm this yk what 🙂

Other things i manifested from void:

Attention 24/7

Confidence 25/8

Ear piercing

Gold earing

Trip to maldives & hawaii this summer

Desire friend group

Driving skills and license

Other skills like - swimming, sports and cooking

Being able to speak different languages

Few beautiful prom dresses

Motivation:

If you say void is easy, then why people struggle getting in ?

- Because honey you made it hard, tell me is it hard for you to breathe or to drink or to walk noooo right because you know it's a part of you, you control it then why you don't think like this about void when yk it's within you, it's a part of you your mind.

How should i clear my mind, when will i know my mind is clear ? Is there any other method to clear mind ?

- you just do a meditation or breathe work and yeah your mind is clear is that even a point to stress on, void is a deep meditative state and to enter it you need to be calm and clear. And what you think if you can't even breathe can you do anything else huh ?

How will i know i am in void ?

- you will know it just trust your mind, when you go to your room yk that you are in your room not in a toilet, when you go to your friends house yk that you are there not on mount everest then why you wouldn't know when you will enter void.

If people went into void and then know they can manifest for others then why don't they manifest for the people who are unable to go into the void ?

- yes ofcourse we can manifest for others but i don't want to make you handicap, Do you take my help to breathe, to drink, to eat or do write those long ass asks...... NOOOO you don't then why you need my help to enter void didn't i told you it's as easy as doing these things then why you need my help. Afterall you are GOD ! GOD never takes help babe !!!

I have been trying to go into void since ages but i can't 😭

- yes you can't because you keep making excuses, you always try to enter void but never do, you think today for sure i will enter the void and wake up in my new reality but when the night comes you think i am too sleepy let me sleep tonight i will enter void later maybe tomorrow or after that, you over complicate things like hell you be asking me how should i clear my mind, shall i sleep on my back or front, what should i affirm, when should i enter, shall i keep my eyes close or open, can i manifest this, can i manifest that 🙄 bitch now really stfu if you guys be asking me all this in my asks they do also ask me ...... can i eat, what should i eat, how can i drink water, can i go to washroom, how to use a toilet paper, how to write my name blah blah blah... Because doing all these daily routine things is as same as void, it's just we realised it now that what void is, rather this void would have been a simple habit like any other.

Plot twist : It still is as easy as anything PERIODT !

Also if you keep making excuses like i have adhd, my house is not quiet, my parents don't allow me to use my phone how should i listen to the meditation, i try to clear my mind but thoughts still come, i try to make my body still but it moves anyways, i got scared, i need a final push etc etc THEN I AM TELLING YOU, Y'ALL WILL DIE LIKE THIS I SWEAR YOU WILL.... NOBODY CAN HELP YOU. YOU HADICAP PIECE OF SHIT YES... YOU, YOU ARE A PIECE OF SHIT DOES THAT HURT YOUR EGO THAT I AIN'T CALLING YOU A GOD BUT A PIECE OF SHIT YES BITCH BECAUSE U DESERVE IT. IF YOU WANT TO BE CALLED A MF GOD THEN DO WHAT GOD DOES STOP MAKING EXCUSES, STOP WASTING TIMES. IF YOU WOULD HAVE INVESTED ALL THIS TIME YOU WASTED WORRYING EXCUSING PROCRASTINATING I BET YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN LIVING YOUR LIFE AND INSTEAD OF YOUR ASKS I WOULD HAVE YOUR SUCCESS STORIES.

" If you still have any self respect left go do what i said and show me your face when you claim yourself as a GOD"

The End ✨

Love, zee

XoXo ♡

[neo-shitty]

can’t i just say i like you — l.dh

description. you, donghyuck, and the one time the mcdonald’s ice cream machine wasn’t broken.

pairings. lee donghyuck x female reader

genre. fluff, (attempted) humor, mutual pining lmfao, bestfriends to ???

warnings. swearing, mentions and consumption of food (sugary drinks, specifically). 

word counts. 2.3k

notes. i’m so sorry this took so long but here it is!! congratulations on graduating, i’m so proud of you >:’( @ncteaxhoe​ 

It was nothing but a thought, one that crossed your mind at random in your post-finals haze—your mind still jumping into one conclusion after the other to make sense of things that initially didn’t. Genius people called it dumb luck, you called it a survival tactic. It helped you see the smallest of hints of the answer in the long list of choices, bumping your odds of getting the answer right from zero to just enough to make you confident enough to carry on to the next item. Only to, of course, repeat the same process again. 

Tonight, hours after the last of your exams, it has become a nuisance. To say your mind had a mind of its own was the best way to put it, an entirely independent being standing before a board pinned with papers with red threads forming an intricate web linking everything together. Its conclusion, or what you wanted to shrug off as a random irrelevant consideration, was simple; what if the remedy for your stress was never the desserts you rewarded yourself with but the company of the person you bought said desserts with?

Talk about food for thought. The disturbance shows on your face in knitted eyebrows and a corrugated forehead. Distracted by the idea, you forget about the drink you were downing, sipping more than you could take and the drink spills. For the first time since you sat down together, Donghyuck looks up at you with his own eyebrows knitted—confused.

He glances at the spilled drink, reaching over to hand you a table napkin which you snag without a word. The giggle that escapes his lips is soft, “What’s up with you?” 

Donghyuck's eyes wander over to yours, bewildered at first then copying your own until he’s a perfect mirror of you. When you stay silent, he doesn’t bother getting the answer out of you. He simply shakes his head and turns his attention back to his phone on the table next to his drink, head down with his bangs shielding his eyes from your view. And he’s scrolling again, one hand swiping across his screen and the other gripping his ice cream spoon, double-tapping his way through one photo after the other.

You want to mind your own business, tear your eyes away and focus on finishing your own drink instead. Yet here you were, fighting the urge to pull out your phone to do the same thing he is doing to appease your pettiness. Your eyes are drawn to him the same way his were drawn to the screen, bitter at the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips and the occasional utter of the word ‘cute’ every few photos. 

“You said you missed me but you’ve been on your phone since we got here.” You didn’t mean it to sound rude but the words slip with your irritation laced with it. But the moment of regret doesn’t come, the shyer side of you shoved aside as a bolder (sugar-fuelled) you took over. 

Donghyuck's head snaps up almost instantly, instinctively; his finger frozen mid-scroll and he looks just as confused as you were internally. But you know the outburst stemmed somewhere, the mini-you in your head tracing back a few pins on your board of connections. 

You had no plans to leave tonight, deciding to stay in to catch up on sleep you missed out on the weeks leading up to your finals. But you remember Donghyuck and the string of messages you left delivered at the promise of getting back to him as soon as your finals were over. And your finals were finally over. There was no sense of urgency from him, no deal that it had to be the night your exams were over, but you tossed and turned on your bed with a conscience that wouldn’t let you sleep with one knot still loose. 

Nights out with Donghyuck were almost tradition, wedged between busy schedules to celebrate little wins or just for the sake of destressing if only for a little while. It had long been established that he ruled those nights, always finding the perfect place and the perfect menu—the years of being stuck together allowing him to find the equilibrium between your tastes that couldn’t be further apart. He knew which restaurants to warm up at in the winter and which ice cream shops offered the best promos in the summer. And somehow, he always knew when you would need it most, like tonight.

He didn’t expect you’d call him up tonight. The narrow margin between today and the next day made him assume that you’d move the hangout tomorrow, so with a limited number of options you ended up at the closest open restaurant at midnight—the McDonald’s conveniently equidistant from your dorm and his.

But then it never really mattered where you ended up, be it at a sketchy alleyway or some cheap street food park, even when it should’ve (in the off chance you got mugged or worse kidnapped). It wasn’t until a few moments ago that you made the link that maybe the meals were never the center of your attention. Maybe, in its own ‘right under your fucking nose’ way, it had been Donghyuck’s company all along. Ew, you thought, but there was no other logical way you would’ve chosen sleep over a simple drink you could’ve gotten the next day. It was the promise you made and, as much as you hated to admit it, the eagerness to see the person you were meeting. 

And he spends the entire time on his phone? Motherfu—

Your cheeks begin to warm when you remain locked in the staring contest longer than you expected, neither you nor him blinking away. You knew that what you said may as well be fuel to the fire, another joke in his arsenal reserved for future need. But he remains quiet, locks his phone and puts it away. The measly gadget disappears from your view entirely, tucked into the depths of his pocket. 

“Sorry,” Donghyuck says and it takes all of your willpower to keep your jaw from dropping. “How were the two weeks you spent ignoring me?”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “I’m not sure you want to hear me rant about a major you don’t give a damn about. So less about me, what were you up to and who was that? Someone new? Again?” you ask, praying you could play off nonchalance easily. There’s no bitterness to it or you could deny its existence because catching feelings for someone this close was never part of the plan. No, you thought, there should be bitterness. By default, as a close friend, you were still entitled to the gossip of knowing who he was dating. Right? 

Across you, his eyebrows furrow, face contorting into a frown, “Who was what?”

“The one whose pictures you couldn’t stop staring at.” Your index finger finds the spot his phone had been, mimicking the swipes and double taps he’d been doing moments ago. “I'm gone two weeks and you find someone new already?”

In your mind, you’re giving your other self a pat, paying respects to the part of you who’d rather learn the truth now than delude yourself with lies until you were brave enough to face the truth, which was often too late. The confrontation was the best place you could possibly be in now, whatever sprouted in the depths of your mind and heart earlier shall be plucked out just as quick. 

“Someone new!” You flinch when Donghyuck pushes himself off the table, leaning back against his seat as he stares, utter disbelief and betrayal on his face. “When did I last ask someone out?”

“How should i know?” You shrug. “It’s not like I track everyone you date. I have better stuff to do.”

“Then why did you assume I found someone new if you weren’t tracking?”

For a moment, your own retort lodges in your throat, a part of the truth exposed in the open. But you couldn’t affirm it now could you? Denying it seemed outright defensive but it was always better than having to confess. “Because you always have someone new to introduce all the damn and I can’t, for the love of me, remember half the people you introduced this year and we’re only half-way through!”

It’s a playful argument, the air tense but also featherlight. Donghyuck is the first to laugh, shattering whatever tension that was beginning to build up. “You jump into your own conclusions so much. Me introducing someone to you doesn’t equate to me dating them. I haven’t dated anyone for quite a while now,” he says, glancing at you when your thoughts translate into expressions. “I can tell that you don’t believe me but I’m actually waiting for someone. Was actually waiting for someone.”

“Who?” you ask, even when a part of you didn’t want to hear it, “That engineering major? Shin Ryu—”

Donghyuck doesn’t let you finish, a laugh escaping your mouth as he rushes to finish the sentence for you. “She who shall not be named,” he says. “That's old news, you know this. “How long have you been stuck in your room?”

“Then who?”

“Who are you?”

The smile disappears from your mouth, your drink abandoned as telltales of his mind games become evident. “What do you mean ‘who are you?’? You’re going to mind game me through this? Spare me, Hyuck, I had a long week.”

Across you, Donghyuck sighs, which was new considering he always gleamed in excitement whenever it came to playing his mind games with you. “What I mean is I’m not waiting anymore, present tense, because she’s already here, straight out of her two week hibernation without a single message for me until tonight because she only remembers me when she needs me no more no less.”

Donghyuck leans forward, too casually for a confession of such gravity, tucking his arms under one another as he sips on the blue float he’d been chipping ice cream off of. He looks at you in the realest sense, his irises looking past the glassy surface and straight into your soul. He studies your face, memorizing each feature as if to embed it into his mind. And for a moment you think he’s not kidding, like he had his heart held out in the space between you.

But this was Donghyuck and this wasn’t the first time he pulled off something like this. The only reason behind your prolonged buffer being the state of emotional confusion your mind put you into earlier.

The spell breaks when the overwhelment passes, your hands finding the nearest tray to chuck in his direction. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

If you’re honest, he doesn’t. You've only seen Donghyuck honest a number of times before, heard him talk lies all the time enough to notice the mischief bleeding into his tone no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Beyond the teasing tone, there’s no sarcasm to it. If anything, there was relief, as if he’d kept it locked within him long enough he could no longer hide it. He shrinks into his chair quietly, still not giving up the act but with an arm up to stop the tray even when you never planned to really hit him. It remains suspended in the air between the both of you, almost as if to represent the tug of war of your emotions.

He’s the first to look away, however only briefly; poking his straw into the blue float and giving it a stir before he takes a sip. Then he glances back at you, holding it longer this time. You try your best to let your confusion show, willing the butterflies in your stomach to settle and the rush of blood to your cheeks to retreat. 

Then you roll your eyes. “Shut up.” It’s the only thing you manage to say because you can’t handle having your emotions stirred by both his words and the rush of sugar punctuating the hammer of your heartbeat.

It isn’t the reaction he was looking forward to and every wishful thought that crossed his mind from the weeks leading up to it was trashed with a singular roll of your eyes. His hope diminishes significantly, cowardice reclaiming its brief loss over bravery. But there was no one else to blame but himself, maybe his mind too for deluding him into thinking that you’d ever look at him the same way he did. 

So he puts his facade on, pulling the face you’re most familiar with as he reaches across the table to brush your cheeks. “Got you, didn’t I?” he asks, as if he hasn’t spent the last two weeks mulling over how his life felt dull in the days you weren’t around. 

Maybe it was fondness over the years, a snowball-turned-avalanche of bottled emotions slowly reaching its limit as the years passed. He knows this fatal flaw because even when you never showed any sign of interest on your end, he still seemed to bet on the idea that what if—by divine intervention—you felt the same. With the roll of your eyes and the dismissal of the topic entirely, he snaps out of his own spell, tucking his own emotions away like he always would. 

Still, a part of him remains quiet yet hopeful, that a possibility still exists against all other odds. Call it instinct, maybe even stupidity. But even with his heart leaning into the minority, he tells himself that it would still be worth it in the end—whether things go in his favor or not. He didn’t see a problem with it then, and he doesn’t see a problem with it now. And so the wait continues.

© neo-shitty, 2022

[koishua]

➷ ... 𝗽𝗼𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗲𝗲-𝗷𝗮𝘆

aka my little offer for valentine's day <3 everyone thank @yyxgin for making me do this bc im actually rolling on the floor this is so cute ;-;-;-;-;

jay cooking in the kitchen while you and hee watch, light quips and comments here and there and the atmosphere always light and playful

walking on the street and you have scary guard dog privileges

picnic dates where you gaze at the clouds, picking out all of the weird shapes and teasing each other

movie nights would be the most fun thing ever

both of them look at you with the warmest and lovesick eyes whenever you rant about topics you’re passionate about

speaking about passions, powerpoint nights would be a regular thing

jay would love love love making the two of you his models omg

sometimes one of you would do something stupid and the other two would have to step in and scold the one who caused trouble like stressed parents lmfao

birthdays would be so cute and sweet with the two of you secretly planning a small celebration while the person in question would have absolutely no idea :(

ganging up on hee to serenade you for like an hour straight because you both love listening to him sing like that

they’d invite you to the studio a lot of the times and you’d be their designated hype man and most of the times, the videos they’d upload would be recorded by you :’)

sometimes they’d decide on being little shits and make you be the only one who jumped into the pool when all of you were supposed to do it smh

your phone wallpaper would be a picture of your two bfs being the silliest goofiest funniest two people ever and it would make you smile every time you unlock your phone.

your lock screen is a cute picture of your shared pet :((

god, finally chores wouldn’t be such a hassle to do, because both of them are pretty responsible and helpful.

you’d blast music and get dressed in clothes that you don’t mind getting down and dirty with and by the end of a few fun hours, you’d have a sparkling clean house ;-;

halloweens would be the best time of the year to dress up as iconic trios like powerpuff girls or something haha

both of them would be dragging you by each arm and onlookers would comment on how cute the bunch of best friends looked and then you three would knowingly look at each other, holding back laughs, because oh boy you were much more than just best friends

you would be each other's best hype men ;-; any gig one of you would have, the other two would be there to support and cheer on with your entire chests. Sometimes it’d be embarrassing to receive so much love, but oh well, you loved them anyways

sometimes activities would break all hell loose and full on passionate arguments would occur about how reese’s was the best candy bar or something, to which someone would disagree and so on and so forth

when two of you would argue, the other would be the designated peacemaker and do the “now hold hands and apologize” lmao

when you’d be homesick, they’d sit next to you and give you the warmest hugs ever and comfort you till you end up falling asleep and then jay would carry you back to bed and hee would tuck you in and give you a little forehead kiss ;-; can you hear me crying in the club

speaking of clubs, bro. these two. omg these two would be so protective over you, you best bet you’re absolutely safe in those kinds of environments bc duh heejay have your back.

jay would glare at anyone who touches inappropriately and they’d run off bc jay, as we all know, has a terrifying and super intimidating angry gaze oof

possessive hee would awaken and wrap an arm around your waist, staring down at the person who wouldn’t take a no for an answer from you smh

as i said, scary guard dog privileges lmao

omg and also per the input of @mosviqu STUDY DATES‼️‼️💔 study dates where you really try your best to concentrate and they try their best to help you, but they'd end up serving as distractions only and you'd get nothing done and then probably fail your test <//3

overall you'd have the best partners in life who'd help you overcome pretty much anything life throws in your face :(

© koishua 2022, all rights reserved || reblogs appreciated

taglist one. @shekllls @eternallyhyucks @yjwfav @beyondthesheets @speckled-sunshine @luvningkai @youreverydayzebra @ilandsghost @jensrose @yongmins @nikis-mum @w3bqrl @candysofthours @moontines @rielleluvs @heefused @squiishymeow @just-uaau @catecita @namjoo-jay @shrutiajit @baekhyunstruly @changmin-wrlds @changminurheart @chewychubchuu @taegicarus @marknaeroni @enhacolor @heelariously @chaebb @nshitae @clarakyunisageek @i-m4rk @tarosaurus @aeonghaseyo @hotgirlsunoo @misah0e @ily-cuz-i @jungwoniics @enha-hwajinna @todorokiskitten @notcamila

[duskholland]

Stuck With(out) You - Mob!Tom Smut

tom was having a really nice day until the metropolitan police decided to crash his date.            or, when the law finally catches up to london’s most notorious mobster, tom learns that nothing is fair in love and war.

word count ↠ 15k. warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, alcohol, a car chase, extensive depictions of prison, violence (very minor injury detail), tattooing, pregnancy, bad language, smut! there are extended nsfw warnings below the cut but this is 18+ so minors please do not interact.  a/n ↠ this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken 100% seriously! similarly to every other fic I’ve written about mob!tom, I don’t condone any of the actions shown in this story and all depictions of the mob and prison are entirely fictional. please do not date members of the mafia even if they are tom holland !!!!! + this fic was conceptualised before the release of cherry, and there are no purposeful links to the content of that film! the image from esquire that I’ve used is what led me down this path lmfao...esquire I love/hate you. ++ the biggest thank you ever to the wonderful @uglypastels​ for helping me with the initial brainstorm on this one, and for just generally being so supportive as I’ve struggled with writers block :’) I wouldn’t have ever been able to think this up let alone have the motivation to write this without you, so thank you and ily z <3  +++ there is a pov change halfway through this fic! it is intentional and you should be able to see it pretty easily but I’m just flagging it so you don’t think I lost it halfway through ahahha. enjoy!

nsfw warnings ↠ car sex, soft!dom!tom ft minor sir kink, oral and fingering (fem-receiving), multiple orgasms with brief refs to overstimulation, minor pregnancy kink, unprotected sex ft cumshot. 

✧ *:･ﾟStuck With(out) You･ﾟ:*✧

There’s something wrong with you, and Tom can’t quite put his finger on it.

He wonders if it’s the wine. He’d spent hours debating the type of grape and ideal bitterness, scouring his memory in search of the perfect blend to share with you on your date. Eventually, he’d settled on the same deep red that he’d shared with you the first time he’d visited your flat, back when your love was just a small spark. Three years have passed since then, the nerves of early romance melted away and replaced by knowing and love, but the wine has recurred each time one of you has decided to treat the other, so what better blend to bring along to the picnic that Tom had so meticulously planned?

You haven’t touched your glass, and Tom—for all his confidence and charm—is deeply unsettled by this.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks for what feels like the tenth time, with brows furrowed so tightly his forehead aches. Tom reaches across the gingham blanket to join your fingers together, surprised to feel the clamminess of your skin as you gently squeeze his hand.

You hum. “I’m fine,” you say, voice devoid of any intense emotion. You sigh softly before bringing your eyes to meet Tom’s, and the man feels his heart constrict in his chest. You’re perfect, even with your hair messy from the light spring wind and the nerves that sit across your face. When you squeeze his hand again, and Tom glances down to see the engagement ring on your fourth finger, the ache in his heart sharpens.

He never knew love could be this fulfilling, nor so easy. Breathing is harder than it is to love you.

“Okay,” he replies. “Do you want to go home?”

You’ve been so quiet for the entire date, which is strange because usually, you match his energy effortlessly. Tom has been away for a few weeks doing business in Liverpool, and this date by the river is the first time you’ve been properly alone since he returned. He’d really expected you to enjoy the date—or, on a very basic level, at least look like you want to be here. With your quiet answers, avoidance, and nervous stares, he can’t confidently say that you do.

You shake your head. “No, no.” You fiddle with some of his rings before pulling your hand away from his. As you sit up a little straighter, you turn away from Tom to stare instead at the River Thames.

The river behind you is lit by the mid-afternoon sun and flooded with boats. It’s such a lovely day that Tom almost doesn’t notice the horrible brown tinge to the water. Lining the bank are small groups of people—families, friends, couples, tourists. They all stay clear of the two of you, undoubtedly wary of the security guards lingering near their boss. He rarely goes out so obviously like this, but you’ve always loved London, and he’d wanted to treat you. He’d wanted this to be a nice day.

“You know you can talk to me, don’t you?” he checks, voice catching slightly.

Your eyes snap up to his quickly. “Tom,” you say, voice wrapped endearingly around his name. Moving easily, you slip closer to him, carefully shifting around the food and the glasses until you’re close enough to reach out and touch his cheek. “I love you.”

Tom’s teeth graze his lower lip as he feels you pad your thumb across his jaw. “I know,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze. “I love you too.” He pauses for a few moments, savouring the closeness and the scent of your rosy spritz. He’d missed you so much that it almost hurts to have you so close again. “I know you have something on your mind, darling… Can you tell me what it is? I want to help you.”

“I…” A breathy exhalation follows. You bring your hand away from his cheek and rest it on the red silk material covering his shoulder. He’s in a loose designer shirt, the top two buttons unbuttoned and showing off the silver-linked chain he has hanging from his neck. “Tom, I just…”

“What?”

A small smile twitches at your lips. “Not here,” you seem to decide, voice a little stronger. “I have something I need to show you.”

“At home?”

“Yeah.”

Tom feels the weight rolls from his shoulders. It’s fine—everything is fine. You want to let him in, want to trust him with the cause of your anxieties. You still want him.

“Let’s go, then,” he decides, knowing he’s far too impatient to spend another hour laying by the river. Tom offers you a hand, and you take it. He tugs you away from the picnic setup with ease. He doesn’t need to bother with putting the things away—someone else will do it. Just one of the perks of his job.

“I missed you,” you say, smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand as you walk together towards the car. “It gets lonely without you in the house. Our bed is ridiculously huge without two people in it.”

Tom chuckles. “Good job I’m back now then, eh?”

The noise you release is stacked full of so much relief it makes Tom feel guilty for ever leaving to begin with. As he watches the bright, genuine smile flow across your face when you meet his eyes, he resolves to never leave for business again. Never. Not without you.

“A very good job,” you clarify. When you reach the car together, Tom holds the door open for you, ushering you in dramatically until you’re laughing and making fun of him for fussing. The only way he can stop you from your jovial whines is by leaning across the dashboard and pressing his lips to yours, so really he can’t complain. “This car is stupid, too,” you decide.

“Oh, that’s too fucking far,” Tom murmurs, glancing in the rear mirror as he peels away from the pavement. He’s glad the air between you has lightened. You seem happier now you’ve decided to spill your secrets. He rests his hand on the back of your headrest as he twists in his seat, eyes on the road as he reverses. “This car is a beauty.”

“This car is confusing,” you say, and Tom feels you staring at the flex of his bicep. “I tried driving it when you were gone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm. Couldn’t even get it up the drive.”

“Well, not to be rude, darling, but it’s hardly fair to blame my beautiful car for the fact that you’re an atrocious driver.”

If looks could kill, Tom knows he’d be six feet under.

“Fuck you, Tom,” you seethe, but your voice is charged with laughter. “I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all. Go back to Liverpool, see if I care.”

Tom cackles. “Maybe I will,” he teases, “just to see how long it takes you to start begging for me to come back again.”

You grumble something incoherent at that, then the words between you lull into a comfortable silence. After a few moments, you shift your palm to rest on his thigh, your hand gentle, warm. Your fingertips trace tiny love hearts over his slacks.

“Don’t,” you say eventually, voice quieter. “Stay this time.”

Tom risks a quick glance to you, growing breathless in the depths of your eyes. “Of course,” he says, voice thick. Tom returns his gaze to the road, his chest feeling tight. “I’m never leaving you again.”

“I mean, you can leave sometimes if you want—”

“No. Never.” Tom’s cheeks ache. “I’m never leaving your side.”

“Alright, Tom.” You sigh lightly, feigning exasperation. “I guess there are worse things than being stuck with you.”

“I’m charmed, darling. So relieved you like spending time with your fiancé.”

You shift in your seat at that, and Tom doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re flustered. You’re always shyer around him when he mentions the fact that your futures are intertwined, almost unbelieving that he’d slipped that ring onto your finger. It doesn’t matter how many times Tom tells you that he cherishes you—you never quite make peace with the fact that he wants to chase the moon with you. That doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling you, though. You hang the stars in his sky.

“I love spending time with you, Tom,” you mumble. “And I hope that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t change how you feel about me.”

His eyebrows raise. “Wait— what?” Tom scrunches the tip of his nose up as he squints in your direction. “Y/N, what—” He pauses, concentrating on keeping his voice level. “Angel, nothing you could ever do would change the way I feel about you. Nothing.”

You smile quietly. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add, almost sensing his unease. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Perfect.” Tom sits a little straighter in his seat. “Then there’s nothing to worry about—”

Sirens cut into his words. Tom startles, glancing in the mirror to see a police car with a whirring blue siren perched atop the grimy vehicle.

“Tom,” you say slowly, voice filling with dread. Your tone sends shivers down his spine. “Did you do something?”

Tom bites his lip.

He’s been trying his best to stay above the law recently, but… Liverpool had been messy. Very messy. He hadn’t intended on things going quite as terribly as they had, but one thing had led to another, and he’d had to fuck a few things up. The crime is nothing as intense as he’s been booked for in the past, but he’d had to write a few irregularities into his taxes and business agreements to smooth over the waters. It’s not as bad as murder, but it’s tax fraud nonetheless.

Tom had thought he’d been fine. Apparently not. He’s been a hot target for the Metropolitan Police for years, and they’ve consistently unearthed every tiny discrepancy he’s tried to get away with. He should’ve been more fucking careful.

“Shit,” Tom mutters. As he brings his eyes back to the road in front of him, he realises the police car behind you has been joined by another two, closing in from side streets and boxing him in amongst the traffic. He swallows thickly. “I messed up.”

You curse. “Idiot,” you mutter. You sit forwards in the seat and start to point to a gap in the traffic, right across the square. “Go there,” you say, voice pitching higher. “If you go fast, you’ll make it.”

He could book it. Tom’s run away before, in situations of peril where the alternative had been the law and escaping would give him the chance to alter some books and clear his name. It would be easy to slam his foot on the accelerator and dive down side streets, dodging the thick London traffic.

“Tom!” you say again, voice stressed with desperation. “Tom, go!”

The gap in the traffic is narrowly closing, the window of time Tom has to zoom through and get to safety shrinking before his very eyes. If he was alone, he’d do it without a second thought, but you’re here.

You’re here, and that means he can’t be selfish. Tom couldn’t ever risk you, not with such a treacherous manoeuvre like the one that you’re suggesting, nor with the repercussions you’d face if he books it. You’d either have to come on the run with him, or you’d end up captured and grilled by the Met, and neither of those options is the types of things he’d ever bring willingly upon you. You would never deserve that, and he refuses to make it a possibility.

Tom slows down the car.

“Tom,” you say, shock filling your voice. “What are you doing? They’ll get you.”

He nods. “I want you to listen to me, very carefully,” he says quickly.

“But—”

“—Darling, please. Please.” Tom stops the car abruptly. He calculates he has mere seconds before the officers ditch their vehicles and start storming across the traffic to haul him from his seat. “Don’t say anything to them. They want me, not you.” He turns off the engine and grabs your hands, holding them close as he stares into your eyes. “Call Harrison. Whatever shit they’re bringing me in for won’t hold up for long. They’ve— they’ve done this before. They never win. We have backup plans for this crap.”

“Tom,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears, “but they—”

“I know. I know, baby. I know.” He presses quick kisses to your knuckles, clinging so tightly to your fingers it’s like he’ll drift away without your touch. “I’m sorry. I am so bloody sorry. I love you so much.”

His throat hurts. The sight of the pain in your eyes makes him hate himself for ever bringing you into this faithless way of life. He doesn’t give a fuck that he’s destined for a cell—Tom cares that he’s hurt you.

“I love you too,” you say. You lean closer, undoing your seatbelt and popping his too as you reach up to cup Tom’s cheeks in your shaky hands. “It’ll be okay,” you stress. “I’ll get you out of there, baby.”

You lean in closer to kiss him, and Tom aches. The scent of your perfume is overwhelming, and he feels fragile beneath the hold you have on his face. The kindness in your eyes makes it hurt even more. It’d be easier if you’d let fury consume you and spend these last sacred moments denouncing him instead of loving him, but of course, you’re not like that.

The car door opens, and Tom is hauled from the car the moment his lips touch yours. Before he can process it, he’s being pushed up against his car, stiff arms keeping him pinned in place. He closes his eyes, firming up his face and shoving down his feelings as he forces himself to dry up, become stoic. He won’t show weakness now he’s outside.

Tom hears you exit the vehicle a few moments later, the crash of the door coupled with a few scuffles. He drowns out the words of the officers whilst they reel off a list of fabricated crimes, smugness evident in their voices. Good for fucking them.

When they eventually release him, he’s cuffed and weaponless, his spirit bent in two. The metal of his car had hurt his face, but nothing breaks Tom’s heart more than the sight of you being held back by two officers, tears streaming down your face. You bring your hands into the shaky outline of a heart, and it’s the last thing he sees before he’s pushed into the back of a van.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s day goes from bad to worse.

It’s clear that everyone at the station has been waiting for him to fuck up. He’s met with sly smiles and teasing comments as he’s reacquainted with some of his most despised wardens and guards. He’s held in a temporary cell for almost a day and quizzed on the shreds of ‘evidence’ they’d procured from his house during a raid, and though Tom declines to answer every single question they throw at him, their smugness never fades.

He walks into the trial already knowing he’s going to be locked up, and not even the sight of you beside Harrison and Harry on the benches soothes him.

Five years. He’s charged with five years.

Now, Tom isn’t worried. He knows he won’t actually be held in a cell for that long. He’s already had correspondence with Harrison, who’s assured him that he’s working on it, and there’s really nothing much to worry about. Tom has been in this situation twice before, and on both occasions, he’d been released in less than a month. The connections he’s built from his years heading up the mob are reliant and unwavering, and he knows he won’t have to serve even a fifth of his sentence.

The only difference between the times before and now is you, and Tom can only fucking pray that you don’t despise him for dirtying your name with his crimes. You’d been normal before him—a waitress, aspiring painter, an innocent. Despite your insistence that you love him with all strings attached, his guilt weighs him down. He doesn’t give a fuck about the law and whatever twisted loopholes the jury had bought, but he does care about you and what you think of him. That’s the hardest part.

Two weeks pass achingly slowly.

Prison isn’t that bad for Tom. He’s pretty fucking lucky, all things considered. He has friends here—blokes he’d met around town, most of whom are willing to welcome him in. A few of his old guys are locked behind bars with him, unwavering in their loyalty and more than happy to absorb him as members of their group. Those who don’t know Tom know of him. His reputation as a murderous, cold-hearted killer follows him inside, regardless of its falsity. Tom hasn’t taken a life in three years, but these men don’t need to know that.

“Holland! Get the fuck up. You’re in the gym.”

Tom glances up. He’s lying on top of his bed, one hand propped behind his head, the other holding open a book. He isn’t an avid reader like you, but you’d sent him a copy of your favourite book with scribbled annotations in the margins, and he’s been spending every hour since its arrival clinging to the pages.

He sighs as he puts the book down and stands from the lower bunk. He’s in with a young lad, Ollie, booked on a minor drugs charge. Why they’d paired someone on such a minimal sentence with a member of the mob, Tom will never understand, but the fear in the lad’s eyes every time he looks at him is enough to keep his wavering ego bobbing just above the waterline.

“Step away from the door.”

Tom does as instructed. A moment later, there’s a loud buzzer followed by the swinging of the heavy metal door.

In walks Luther, Tom’s archnemesis. If the inmates fear him, the guards despise him, and to be fair, Tom understands why. He’s a bit of a dick when he’s behind bars. Usually, when he’s free, he operates with a level of poise and charm that comes with his position as leader. He speaks to his men with a firm but kind hand, respects everyone he deems his equal and commands supreme authority without becoming a tyrant. However, when he has his freedom stripped away, and he has to bend to fit the system’s will, his attitude becomes… problematic.

“Holland,” Luther barks. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, coughing loudly, cheeks flushed a ruddy red. He snarls at Tom, his voice like jagged glass. “Come on.”

“You alright, mate?” Tom asks. “You sound fucking terrible.” He looks it, too, with a dripping nose and red-rimmed eyes. He looks ill.

Luther’s features sharpen. “Get over here now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom swaggers to the door and dodges a little as Luther cuffs him, the man digging the metal into his skin with extra ferocity. They start to march down the long, grey corridor towards the fitness suite, Luther prodding Tom forward with a hand digging into his back.

“How’s your wife?” Tom tries, tired of the echoing footsteps.

Luther sighs. “How’s yours?”

“She’s doing very well, thank you.”

The guard tuts. “Does she like having a criminal for a husband?”

“Does yours like being married to such a wanker— hey!”

Luther pushes him down the corridor with haste. “Quiet, Holland,” he mutters. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Well, then it’s too bad you’re stuck with me,” Tom replies. “Did you know that if me being here annoys you so much, you could always let me go? That would sort out your problem.”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah? Let London’s most wanted convict escape?”

Tom raises a brow. “London’s most wanted?” he echoes. “Wow.” Pride seeps into his voice. “That’s an accomplishment.”

“Not a positive one. Self-absorbed bastard.”

It’s easy to laugh. Letting the comments bounce off his back is easier than admitting the jibe about you has irked him. Do you like having a criminal for a partner? Even Tom, for all the world has jaded him, knows no sane person would rest well with the knowledge that their significant other has lied, stolen, and killed. It doesn’t lie well with him, and he was born into this.

They reach the gym.

Tom sticks to the same workout regime he has at home. He does his cardio for twenty minutes on the wobbling treadmill, then sits around on the bench press and does curls with a few of the guys. He keeps quiet, his mind loud, only adding a few comments when necessary. His sullenness adds to his image, and he’s busy with thoughts of you. By the time he’s finished, he feels arguably worse than before. The endorphins from his workout are overshadowed by the guilt Tom feels, clawing at his heart, heavy and persistent in its certainty that he’s a lousy partner.

He can handle being a bad guy, but a bad man? A bad brother, bad friend, or bad lover? The opinions of the guards mean nothing to him, and neither does the law, but when it comes to the people he cares about, their opinions mean everything. Tom has let Luther get into his head, and whilst he knows that was the guard’s intention, the seed of doubt has been planted. As he pumps iron, he feels it grow, taking root, blooming taller.

“Holland. Time to go.”

He grunts as he stands. Sweaty and sore, Tom hobbles to the doorway, feeling considerably smaller than he had when he’d left his cell. The cuffs hurt his wrists as his hands are clasped back together, and the walk back feels even longer than before.

“You had a parcel delivered,” Luther says, breaking the silence. “It arrived last week.”

Tom’s eyebrows pull together. “Last week?”

“I thought I should hold it back until you’d settled in,” comes the patronising response. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many new experiences, Thomas. Not that being in here is anything out of the ordinary for you, though.”

He feels his jaw twitch. He flexes his hand, knuckles burning for movement. Not yet, not yet. He has to wait, has to play the long game.

“You’re a dick,” Tom decides. He doesn’t care that he gets thrown roughly into the cell. He trips over the floor and barely manages to scrape himself to his feet, but he throws out a smirking “fuck you,” before the door slams shut. He’d follow it up with more snide remarks, but he becomes distracted by the sight of the parcel sitting on his bed.

It’s neat, despite the obvious intrusion into its contents by the guards. He flops onto his lower bunk, glad his cellmate is absent as it allows him to drop the ruse. Lips sagging into a frown, Tom rips open the package.

He releases a fragile sound as the contents pour across his duvet. Polaroids fall across the sheets, glistening slightly, neat and pristine. A lump comes to the back of his throat as he shuffles through them, finding images of you, Harry, Sam, Tess… The list carries on. For every person he can think of, there’s an image captured perfectly in time. He even appears in a few of them, with his hand around Haz’s shoulder or his lips pressed to your temple.

He finds a note attached at the bottom.

Tom, I thought you’d want some reminders of home while you’re away. We’re all looking forward until the day you can come home to us. Love you forever, Y/N <3

As Tom traces the edge of his nail along the outline of your face, his eyes well with hot tears. You always know what he needs, even when he doesn’t. You know him, inside out, and you’re continuing to support him, despite it all. He is indebted to you, and he knows already that as soon as he’s let out, he’ll spend every second of his life trying to repay that.

The seed of doubt burns away.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks later, Tom finally gets to see you again.

The prison visiting room is fucking grim. Toned in sludgy shades of grey and brown, it’s about as ugly as it could be. There are window slits pressed high into the walls, but the primary source of light is from the musky bulbs set above each table. The chairs are uncomfortable, and the decor lacks inspiration. Tom often wonders if the room was designed to be as revolting as possible.

Despite this, as Tom shuffles into the room that smells suspiciously of plasticine, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t matter that his wrists ache from the cuffs, nor that the garish shade of orange clashes horrendously against his skin: you’re here, and that makes everything better.

You’re sitting at the table in the corner of the room, drumming your fingers pensively over the surface. His eyes catch on the glinting ring wrapped around your fourth finger, and the sense of longing that had settled in the hollowness of his chest is quickly burnt away. Sensing his movements, you glance up, and when your eyes meet with his, Tom feels his heart come home.

You raise a hand in greeting, smiling shyly, and he tries to look as non-threatening as possible. He knows the new buzzcut and the stupid get-up probably don’t help, but you don’t look at him like he’s any different.

As he draws nearer, Tom finds himself blinking a few times, questioning how long you’ve been separated. The version of you he has holed up in his memories pales in comparison to the woman that he sees before him now, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. You seem fuller somehow—vibrant, glowing, alive, your face doused in a heavenly glow and your skin bright with health. Your figure has changed slightly, and Tom can’t stop himself from running his eyes all over you, trying to memorise every tiny detail his memory had blurred away. You look so beautiful, every single part of your form enhanced and bright, and your chest—

Fuck, it’s been a long time.

“Y/N,” he exhales the moment he’s been pushed into his seat. His guard unclasps his cuffs, and Tom immediately reaches out across the table, almost moaning from relief when you wrap your fingers around his. Your skin is so warm.

“Tom,” you whisper. Emotion seeps into your voice, and he feels his chest crack as tears pool in your eyes. “Are you okay? I— I missed you.”

He hums, biting his lip. “I’m fine, baby. I’m okay. Are you?”

You nod quickly. “I’m okay too,” you say. “Things are strange without you, but we’re working around the clock to get you out of here.” You drop your voice slightly. “I think we’re near a breakthrough.”

Tom’s teeth brush his lower lip. “Good, good,” he says. “How’s Tess? And Harry, and the others? Are they looking out for you?”

“Yeah,” you say. You squeeze Tom’s hands tightly. “They’re all okay. Mainly just worried about you.”

He shrugs, trying to lessen the furrow in your brow. “‘M all good, darling,” he promises. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes skate across his face. “I like your hair,” you say gently. For a moment, Tom thinks you’re going to try and reach out to touch the buzzed fuzz, but you seem to remember that anything beyond handholding is prohibited. You have to settle for a slightly suggestive smile. “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, lovie.”

Your smile is sad but it’s still hopeful. Whatever emotions you’re feeling, it’s clear that you’re trying to smooth them away and keep them to yourself. “There’s something I wanted to tell you,” you say, easing into the words with difficulty. Tom watches as you look away, doubt casting across your face.

“What is it?” Vaguely, Tom remembers how skittish you’d been the day he’d been taken away, the memory distorted from the noise of everything else that had happened. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You bite your lower lip. “Uh, just first… how are you holding up in here? Like, actually. Don’t bullshit me and play the tough guy.” Your eyes are wide and persistent. “How are you actually doing?”

Tom blinks a few times. “Fine,” he shoots immediately. He clenches your fingers tightly in his, clinging on for a moment until he exhales. “I wish I could be here for you properly, though. It worries me that I don’t know what’s happening on the outside…” He hates being left out in the dark, but it isn’t your fault. It’s his. “I wish I could be a better boyfriend to you.”

“Fiancé,” you correct, the word soft like it’d left your mouth without thought. “You’re already a good boyfriend, Tom. I knew what I was signing up for. I wanted this back then, and I still do now.”

“Still,” he grumbles. He tries to even out the heaviness of the conversation with a smile. “I think about you all the time, baby. And the others too, but… mostly you. I just hate that I’m missing out on our life together.” He has to stop for a moment as he recollects his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I did this to us, and I’m sorry I let you down.”

You crack a wry smile. “You can’t change the past, Tom. You can only affect the future.” You pause, your expression hardening. “I need to know that you’ll go slower when you get out. I know this is your life, but some things need to change. We— I need you to stay out of trouble. Do you understand?”

He nods his head immediately. “Of course, of course. I don’t ever want to get arrested again, darling.”

You drop your voice. “I’m not saying you need to quit everything, just… get better safeguards and be smarter. I love who you are, Tom, but this…” You break off to gesture around, pointing vaguely at his cuffs, the jumpsuit, and the guards. “This isn’t good for you or for me. And I love you, but I won’t stay if you don’t try.”

It’s hard to hear, but he knows it’s what he deserves to hear. He knows you deserve to stand your ground.

“I know,” Tom says gently. “I’ll get clean when I’m out, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be a good man by you.”

You squeeze his fingers tighter. “You already are,” you promise, “and I love you so much, even when you’re being an idiot.”

He laughs breathlessly. “Thank you, darling.” Tom tilts his head to the side. “What was it you wanted to say?”

Conflict briefly colours your face, manifesting itself in the arch of your eyebrow and the biting of your lower lip. You inhale sharply, only to exhale again a moment later.

“I’ll tell you when you’re out,” you say softly.

Tom scowls. There’s no anger there, just confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

You shake your head. “I… Pretend I never said anything,” you say. You follow it up with a quick, “if I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you.”

He doesn’t want to push it, so Tom lets the topic slip away. You sit together silently for a few minutes. It’s hard to talk, difficult to express how much he misses you, how much he’s sorry. He knows that you understand—you always do, and you have similar tears wobbling across your eyes. Talking can come afterwards when he’s out and he’s free. All he needs now is the feeling of your hand back in his.

The visit is over far too soon.

Leaving you is difficult. Tom isn’t allowed to hug you or go any nearer than the linked hands on the table, but you tug at his fingers until he feels the imprint of your engagement ring rubbing against his skin. He even manages to kiss your knuckles a few times before he’s pulled up from the table and cuffed again.

“Be on your best behaviour,” you say, soft with your parting words. “The lawyer says the better you are, the easier it’ll be to get you out early.”

Tom has a bit of his spark back. Even as he’s pulled back, he manages a devious smirk. “When am I ever not on my best behaviour, darling?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A few days later, Tom snaps.

To be fair, it isn’t really his fault. He’s pushed to the very verge of insanity, prodded at and provoked beyond the point of return.

It happens when he’s in the barber, huddled in the back corner of the room as he gets a new tattoo. Tom is used to the pain of the burning needles as he already has a few pieces on his arms and his hands, so he’s able to take the fresh marks to his knuckles as the ink stains black against his skin. However, he’s a bit on edge from the sharp buzzing, which is perhaps why he responds so negatively to the taunting he starts to receive. It comes from Toni and the rest of his snivelling gang. They’re all members of the East London mob, ruled over by Tom’s nemesis Gordy. Most of the time, they stick to their side and Tom sticks to his, but they’ve caught him in a vulnerable position, and Toni never seems to know how to pick his timing.

It’s basic teasing, instilled with a brutal hard edge that would phase him if Tom cared enough about their opinions of him. It doesn’t hurt him when people attack his character or his honour—Tom knows the truth about his life, and he couldn’t give two shits about an outsider’s opinion of him. However, he finds it a lot harder to grin and bear it when the man changes angle.

“Word is, a couple of our guys saw your missus out with Haz the other day,” Toni taunts. “He said they were getting real close if you know what I mean.”

Tom’s jaw flexes. The action is minute, but it doesn’t go undetected. Toni smirks.

“Eh, you don’t like that, do you?” The man steps a little closer and Tom tries to ignore him by looking down at the needle pressing into his fingers. “Don’t like the idea of your best friend hanging around your wife. Can you even trust them?” He breaks off, laughing coolly. “They think you’re so stupid, did you know that? You’ll get out of here, and they’ll have cut you out of everything—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tom murmurs. He flexes his right hand, shaking out his knuckles. With every passing day, he’s felt tetchier. He can feel his anger burning, churning deep within his stomach, growing brighter, harder. He knows he shouldn’t lean into it, but… He wants to. He craves that rush of the fight, selfishly so.

“But she’s not your wife, is she? You aren’t actually married. Have you ever thought that maybe she’s just using you? Maybe they all are? Look at you, Tom.” Toni breaks off to throw a disdainful hand in Tom’s direction. “You are so weak in here… How are any of your guys going to respect you when their leader can’t even stay out the slammer?”

The guy tattooing Tom’s hand finally pulls away, glancing up at him with knowing in his eyes. “You’re done,” he says. “Don’t do anything with that hand, though.”

“Thanks, man.”

Tom stands up, Toni mirroring him. The man looms in front of him, 6’2 and stocky. He’s larger than Tom in every respect, but he’ll never be the bigger man.

“Get out of my way,” Tom sneers.

“Make me, twat.” Toni smirks. “Or are you too much of a pussy to follow through on that as well?”

Tom sees red. Acting on the edge of adrenaline, he pounces, rushing the man and jumping with so much unexpected force that the larger man goes tumbling to the floor. Tom hears the shouts of the guards, but they pale in comparison to his need to straddle the man’s chest and make him pay. With each meeting of his fist with Toni’s face, Tom feels better. He’s never been an excessively violent person, but old habits die hard, and it’s so, so, so fucking easy to pummel the guy who dared breath an uncomplimentary word in his family’s direction. Tom would put the whole city six feet under if they so much as breathed wrong around his loved ones, so really, Toni had it coming.

The prison guards don’t agree.

He ends up in solitary, and when he’s put back into the normal population, Tom is given restrictions. He isn’t allowed visitors for a fortnight, and his calls are reduced to once a week. All other privileges he’d had are taken away again, and he’s relegated to the very bottom of the pecking order.

It’s still worth it.

When he’s finally allowed visitors again, Tom is surprised to learn that his next meeting isn’t with you or his lawyer. Things only make sense when he shuffles into the meeting room and sees his right-hand man settled in the corner, and if Tom had found the room drab before, it appears even more depressing with the addition of the blond man sitting in it. Harrison sucks the life from the room, any hints of happiness at being reunited with his friend overshadowed by the pinched expression on his face.

The guards don’t let Tom take off his cuffs. He has to sidle into the chair, falling into the heavy silence as he places his hands on the table. Metal links click, and Harrison just stares. He stares, and stares, and stares, his blue eyes almost black.

“So,” Tom eventually says. “Hello.”

Harrison’s jaw twitches. He brings his hands to rest on the top of the table, flexing them as he takes a moment to find the right words. “Tom,” he says, speaking very slowly. “You are a twat.”

He blinks. “Wow,” Tom mutters, chuckling slightly. “Okay. Good to see you too, mate.”

“Do you…” Harrison breaks off, groaning. His forehead develops angry ripples. “Do you understand how detrimental this has been to your case?”

Tom bites his lip, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve been pushed to the bottom of the pile,” Harrison says, voice controlled but simmering with unspoken anger. “We were about to get your appeal passed for early release.” He sits back, crossing his arms as he shakes his head. “There’s been a penalty applied due to your stint in solitary. Your case won’t be assessed until it’s lifted.”

Tom feels his stomach drop. “Shit,” he mutters. “That’s not ideal.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Harrison sits forward, leaning on his hands. “You are a bloody idiot. Stop acting like a child… Why… Why did you even attack him? You must have known this would happen. Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t like the patronisation in his tone. Tom’s already beat himself up enough about this in solitary. He doesn’t need Harrison questioning his judgements, doesn’t appreciate his friend breathing down his neck so obviously.

“He deserved it,” Tom says firmly. “I would do it again.”

“You can’t. You absolutely cannot.”

“I think you’ll find that I can, Harrison.” There’s a stupid smirk on his lips now. Tom’s missed being a little shit to his friends. He knows it’s not the time, but he’s vibrating. The callous concoction of shame, anger and isolation make him volatile and abrasive. “I’m pretty sure I can do whatever the fuck I want, actually.”

The expression that mars Harrison’s face looks very out of place against his demeanour. The man is in a long black trench coat with a tight grey turtleneck layered beneath it. He has a few pendants hanging from his neck, the gold metal bringing out the warm tones in his curls, mussed in a way that screams of old charm and perfect romance. Harrison’s illusion of control falters only under the pressure of the anger that manifests itself so clearly on his face.

“Tom.” Harrison bangs his fist on the table. The ring wrapped around his pinky clangs against the wood. “You can’t keep this up. If you do, the case gets pushed further, and that is unacceptable.”

Tom scowls. “Well, Haz, last time I checked, I was the one who has to deal with the consequences of my actions. Not you.” He can’t stand the expression of condescension hanging over Harrison’s face. “If I want to throw a few punches, I bloody well will. You have no idea what it’s like in here. No idea at all.”

Harrison’s angered expression fades a little, but only for a moment. When Tom hardens the curve of his eyebrow, Harrison devolves into irritation again, almost snarling as he narrows his eyes. “Your actions affect everyone in your life,” he snaps. “Stop pretending you’re the only one paying for the things that you’ve done.”

“I’m the one with the cuffs, Harrison. I’d say I’m paying considerably more than anyone else.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah? Tell that to the men who had their property searched and their possessions seized. Tell that to your family, who continue to be pulled in for questioning. Tell that to Y/N, who—” he breaks off awfully quickly, cheeks flushing slightly. “Nevermind.”

Tom’s blood goes cold. “Y/N?” he repeats sharply. “What about Y/N?”

“Nothing.”

He sits up straighter. “What about Y/N, Harrison?”

“Nothing.”

Tom is angry now. “Tell me right now or god help me, I will find a way to kill you.”

Harrison rolls his eyes, then covers the movement with a sigh. “I can’t. It isn’t my place.” He seems regretful as he jumps in to add, “she’s fine. She just needs you. We all do.”

The guilt returns. It falls over Tom like a wet blanket, extinguishing his frustration and leaving him cold. “Does she… Does she hate me?” He’s looking down at his cuffs.

“What— no. No, Tom.” Harrison looks guilty for the first time, but at least he isn’t confirming Tom’s deepest insecurities. “Nothing like that at all. Just… Listen to me, alright? You need to behave. I know it’s hard in here, I know that, and I understand it must be frustrating. You just… You can’t let that rule you, Tom. You have to look at the bigger picture. You need to come home, and the sooner the better.”

It’s easier said than done, but he knows Harrison is earnest with it.

“Fine,” Tom grumbles. “I’ll behave.”

Harrison nods. “Thanks, mate,” he mutters. “We all miss you, myself included.” He glances up at him, eyes finally back to the cool blue tones Tom grew up beside. “It isn’t the same without you around.”

Tom manages a tight smile. “I miss you too.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS since Tom was taken away, and you are miserable.

Every day has been the same. You wake up, nauseous and alone, always on Tom’s side of the bed despite forcing yourself to fall asleep on your own. The mornings are a blur of paperwork and phone calls that follow you into the afternoon. You work around the clock, Harrison, Harry and Sam at your side as you go over Tom’s case, again and again, only stopping when night falls, and one of you throws in the towel.

You had been so close to springing him until he’d gone and got himself demoted to solitary, and there’s not a morning that you don’t think about that. You’d submitted the appeal, stacked full of so much evidence that there was no way the judge would deny him freedom, only for Tom to get into a fistfight the day before the hearing. Just like that, the floor had vanished from beneath your feet.

You’d taken it badly, the others too. Losing Tom to the judge’s gavel had been hard enough, but for his escape to be taken away by his own actions hurt a thousand times worse. You know it’s worse for him, being alone in a cell, but that doesn’t stop the bitterness seeping into your mouth every time you think about the lost chance. Harry and Sam had been incensed, their anger fuelled by the void of a missing brother, and you know Harrison’s frustration comes from similar veins.

Even now that Tom’s served his time in solitary, the frustration lingers on, manifesting itself in the way none of you could decide who should go and visit him first. Under normal conditions, you would’ve been there in a heartbeat, but… Things have been complicated, even without recent events, more so than they’d been when you’d visited two months ago. When Harrison had bitten the bullet and volunteered himself, all of you had been more than happy to let him go.

He’d left this morning, and the house has been quiet ever since.

You’re sitting up in one of the spare rooms as you wait for Harrison to return, your back aching and your mind spinning. You twirl the rings on your fingers as you think, taking turns alternating between your engagement ring and the silver signet rings you’d taken from Tom’s dresser. Keeping him close makes everything easier. You’d take any reminder of him you could get, be that his rings, his shirts, his cologne, or…

The baby.

You shift a hand down to sit on the swell of your belly. Tears prick your eyes as you let them close, a frustrated sigh tumbling past your lips.

You’re four months pregnant, and that throws a spanner in the works.

Sure, you would’ve tried equally as hard to get Tom released under normal conditions, but the biological countdown that has now been sprinkled into the mix has only given everything an air of desperation. Even if it isn’t you vocalising what everyone else is thinking, the fervour to get Tom out before it’s too late is there. You can see it in the way Harrison never lets you go anywhere unaccompanied, and Harry and Sam have been working nonstop to get their brother’s freedom. Everyone around you is aware of how vital Tom’s release is, even when the man himself remains oblivious.

Exhaling gently, you shift around on the cosy armchair. The nursery smells of fading paint, and as you move around, you glance at the messy borders of the walls. The sex of your baby is still a mystery to you, but a few days ago, the twins had freshened up the room with a shade of light green whilst you and Harrison were in court. Neither of them is particularly artistically inclined, but they’d done a pretty decent job, all things considered.

Tom’s family have all been good to you—very kind. You haven’t felt alone, even with half your heart locked away in the outskirts of London. It just hasn’t been the idyllic pregnancy you’d dreamt about with your fiancé.

Guilt falls across you as you look down at the rising swell of your belly.

It’s been hard trying to decide whether or not to tell Tom what you’d tried to come clean about three months ago, down by the Thames. You’d wanted to tell him when you’d gone to visit him, but you couldn’t find the heart to come clean and admit that he’s missing out on the one thing he’s waited for his entire life. Telling him would hurt him immensely, and he’s already hurting being away from you. You don’t want to tell him until he can be part of it, and with that uncertainty present, you’ve kept your lips sealed.

Visiting him today in place of Harrison is all you really wanted to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’re vulnerable and explosive, and you want to come clean to Tom when the situation is better. There would be nothing worse than storming into that dingy meeting room, flaunting your obvious pregnancy but being too distracted by your anger at your fiancé to explain everything else. You won’t hurt him like that by taunting him with the one thing he wants but can’t have. You refuse to.

All you can do is hope that he forgives you for holding the information back, pray that he understands your motivations, and, above all, hold onto the hope that he’s there when your child comes into the world.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

Blinking yourself from your reverie, you look up through the open door.

“In here, Sam.”

A moment later, Tom’s younger brother appears in the doorway. The man looks as exhausted as you feel, deep shadows hanging beneath his hazel eyes. When he sees you, his mouth pulls into a small smile and he lifts his hand in greeting, and you can tell that he’s trying. You try to match him by sitting up a little straighter and smiling back.

“Hey,” he says. “I was just… bored, I guess. Thought I’d come and check on you.” Doubt briefly flickers across his face. “Is that okay? Are you busy?”

“I’m bored too,” you admit. You stand from the armchair and groan as you stretch your arms, your stiff back aching. “Do you want to do something?”

Sam grins. “Fuck yeah,” he says. “Can we try the mural?”

Wincing, you manage a smile. “Okay… But if it looks terrible, I will paint over it.”

“As if. I’m the artistic one here, Y/N. Just be glad Harry’s still away.”

“Did someone mention me?” Harry’s voice rings through the air, startling you. With a hand clutching your heart, you look to your side in time to see Sam’s twin taking his place at your side. Where Sam is in a shirt and tie, Harry is clad in a pair of deep denim dungarees. He offers you a rusty smile. “We’re just filling in these lines, yeah?”

Sam’s the one to nod. He gestures at the wall and you notice the faint outlines, scratched in pencil. “Be precise,” he informs, “it took me bloody ages sketching it.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shooting you a silent smirk. “Yes, sir,” he mutters. “Anything you want, sir.”

“Fuck off.”

Harry pulls a face. “Well,” he says, looking at you pointedly, “I hope you’re keeping a record of how many times Sam is swearing around the baby, Y/N.”

Brows furrowing, you pick up a paintbrush. “Why would I be doing that?”

The ginger grins. “Just betters my case for being the better uncle,” he says.

“Oh, what? Don’t you mean the boring uncle?” Sam chides, bristling beside you.

Harry laughs. “I will be the favourite uncle. I don’t care what you say, Sammy. Both of us know it.”

Rolling your eyes at the argument you’ve heard a thousand times before, you give them both a nudge. “Shh,” you plead. “Paint, don’t fight.”

Sam shoots you a soft smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

With a smile lingering on your lips, you watch as Harry puts on one of his playlists, then relax as the three of you get to work. None of you say anything, but the air is full enough—tickled to life with Sam’s quiet whistling and the sound of paintbrushes thick against the wall. You concentrate on the intricate details of the mural, like the outlines of the clouds and the spirals of the grass, and marvel at how wonderful it is to be so content in silence. It’s indicative of how tight your bond has grown, you think.

No longer despising solitude, you’ve found a comfortable middle ground around the men. You and Tom’s inner circle have learned to work together well, stringing together complex case files as you’ve organised accounts. Nothing you’ve been doing recently is legal, but you would’ve left a long time ago if you genuinely cared about the law. You can stomach a few fixed accounts if it means Tom gets to walk free—you can stomach a whole lot more than that, actually, for Tom. You’d set the whole world on fire just to see him smile.

Like the splotchy mural covering the walls, your team has got the job done. Your case for the court is watertight, if a little messy, but you know it’ll be enough to spring Tom. It has to be. You need him, and your child needs him. Everyone in the house needs him.

“Guys? Where are you?” Harrison’s voice joins the mix just as you’re stretching up to flick a few rays of gold into the sun. Harry is at your feet, crouching on the balls of his feet as he tries to paint a few red flowers to the sprigs of grass.

“Nursery,” Harry calls out.

A few moments later, Harrison joins you. You fail to meet his eyes as the focused man sweeps into the room, billowing coat swirling around his feet. His expression is terse as he jerks off his jacket and grabs a paintbrush, dipping the tip in a bit of sky blue paint before standing at the end. You don’t rush him. He’s vibrating with something, his face flushed and his eyes dark, so you give him space.

A few minutes pass, illustrated by Harry’s playlist and the colours of the rainbow. Just when you’re beginning to worry, Harrison speaks.

“Tom is an idiot,” he states, drawing a laugh from one of the twins.

You bite your lip. “Did you explain?” you ask.

Harrison nods. He glances at you, and you note the fleck of purple paint pressed into the pale arc of his cheek. “He said he wouldn’t do it again,” he tells you. “He was angry, though. I think he’s having a bad time.”

Harry hums. “It’s hard in there,” he mumbles. “Was he still himself?”

The blond nods. “Yeah,” he says. “As snarky as ever.”

Sam smirks. “That’s Tom, alright.”

“Good news, though,” Harrison adds. “I went to the courthouse on my way back.”

“Oh?” You look away from your cloud, your heart skipping a beat. “And?”

“And,” Harrison continues, a semblance of a smile twitching across his lips, “I submitted the appeal again. They said they’d probably process it next week. So, if things go according to plan this time, he might be out by next Friday.”

You almost drop your paintbrush. Eyes widening, you turn to face him properly. “Wait, really?”

Harrison’s expression softens. “Yeah.” He puts his paintbrush down, tugging yours from your fingers as if he can tell you’re close to dropping it. “He’s almost out, Y/N.”

Relief spills across you, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Closing your eyes before those easy tears can fall down your cheeks, you step closer and push your way into Harrison’s embrace. He’s ready and waiting for the action, eager to comfort his friend.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Harrison’s chest is warm, and though his hugs aren’t as good as Tom’s, you’ve come to rely on them. You’ve come to rely on all of them. “That’s amazing news.”

“Mhmm.” He squeezes you. “This nightmare is almost over.”

“Thanks, man,” Harry speaks up. You pull away from Harrison’s hold when you hear the quivering tones in his voice, quickly glancing to the man to find him glassy-eyed and flushed. Biting your lip, you extend a hand towards him.

A group hug unfolds, as it’s had the tendency to do since Tom was taken away. The first time had been stoic and cool, with frozen elbows and embarrassed shuffling, but slowly, each one of them has loosened. They’re tough men, burdened and hard, but love ties them to you, and at your request, you know they’d do anything for you. You also know that they all enjoy the physical comfort more than they’d ever let on.

It’s been hard without Tom, and you’d do anything to have him back, but if there’s anything his absence has taught you, it’s that his brothers have become your brothers as his best friend has become your own, and you’ve never really been alone.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s release day comes quickly, hidden behind the retrial and the quick-paced days in court. It’s busy at the trial, and spaces are limited, so Harry and Sam attend in place of you and Harrison. You get them to take in a few letters for Tom and pass on your condolences for your absence, but you don’t allow yourself to get too hung up on it. When Tom’s release is announced, the weight that rolls from your shoulders is immediate.

As you wait outside the prison, you try to find solace in the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. It’s quiet in the car park, allowing you to ruminate in peace, and though you’re comfortable resting against the bonnet of Tom’s car, your thoughts are far from restful.

Anxiety weighs heavily in your chest, mixing with your excitement and creating a volatile concoction. You find yourself pacing, biting back your nerves as you try to reason with yourself. Draped around your shoulders is a long coat that obscures your bump, chosen as you’ve decided you don’t want to overwhelm Tom with too many things at once. You hope it does the job. The coat twitches in the wind as you walk, noisy and obnoxious.

Things around you are still until there’s a sudden, loud buzzing noise from the prison compound. You jerk your head around to see two men leaving the main building, small in the distance but gradually growing larger. They’re still enclosed in the fenced courtyard, but they’re on their way to the exit, and every rational thought you have flies from your mind as you see him. Tom. Your Tom.

He’s in the clothes he’d been arrested in—red shirt, black slacks, shiny shoes. Looped around his hands is his Rolex and his rings. Tom seems almost identical to how he’d been on that cursed day, just his head is buzzed and he looks a little smaller. He’s carrying himself with confidence, though, and when he looks fervently around the car park and spots you, his entire face swells with happiness. The sight of that large, lovely smile hanging from his lips brings immediate warmth to your eyes.

Every breath is easier now you have him in your sights. Overwhelming love gluts your insides, warm and emotive, choking you up. It takes everything in you to stay still as you wait for Tom to finish talking with his guard, a tall man you recognise from all of his stories, Luther. Tom’s smirking in a way that’s obviously infuriating, and the guard doesn’t hesitate to give him a light punch as your boyfriend saunters out of prison, leaving the compound with a swagger to his stride and a smile the size of Saturn.

The sight of Tom jogging towards you breaks you from your reverie, and you push yourself away from the car to meet him somewhere in the middle. Nothing matters until you’re colliding with his front, finding warmth in his arms, feeling his entire body shake as his tears fall into your hair. Nothing matters unless it’s him.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. Your grip on the back of Tom’s shirt is hard, a violent sprawling across your knuckles, but you won’t let go. You’re giddy with love. “Fuck, Tom, I missed you so, so much.”

You pull away from his chest and look into his eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you note the fresh tears on his face. You use your thumbs to brush beneath his cheeks, flicking away the tears as you clean up his handsomeness.

“I missed you so much more,” he promises. Tom brings a hand to rest on the back of your head, breath hitching as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses you, and it’s so intense you end up pressed against the side of the car. Tom moans with relief as he strokes his fingers over the side of your face, delicately reacquainting his lips with yours as they meet again and again. You keep your hands gliding over his back, his arms, his shoulders, letting your tongues come together as tears flow down your cheeks. The kiss is everything and nothing, familiar and new. The kiss says I missed you. It says I thought about you every day. It says I would wait a thousand dawns if it meant I got to wake up beside you again, but thank fucking god you’re here right now because I missed you more than I ever thought was possible.

“Baby,” Tom murmurs. He pulls away but keeps your foreheads pressed together, the cool tip of his nose brushing yours. “You’re so perfect. I missed you so much that it hurt me.”

He tries to move closer, but you become aware of the pressure to your belly, so bring a gentle hand to push his shoulder away. Hurt immediately floods to his eyes, his expression twitching as Tom takes a few steps back.

“Tom,” you say, voice soft. “I need to tell you something.”

Tom’s jaw twitches. “What is it?” he whispers.

“A good thing,” you clarify. You reach up to wipe the residue of your tears away, then bring your hands down to the tie of your jacket. Biting your lip, you take a steadying breath. “I hope you aren’t angry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” you preface, “but I did it for you.”

Tom nods intensely. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s fine. I’m… I’m here, okay? For anything. It’s me and you. Just… me and you forever.”

A smile flickers across your face. “Me and you, and…” You gently open the front of your coat, then reach out for Tom’s hands. Guiding them slowly, you bring the warmth of his palms to rest on the rise of your bump.

“Wait…” Tom shifts his hands around your belly before staring up at you, slack-jawed. He doesn’t try to hide the obvious tears in his eyes. “You’re…?”

Nodding your head is easier than trying to speak.

“Oh god.” Tom sniffles. “What?” He immediately drops to his knees in front of you, his fancy dress trousers getting dirty in the dust. “How— how far along?”

“Almost five months,” you whisper. “I found out right before you got back from Liverpool. I was going to tell you when we went on that date, but…”

“But I fucked up.” Tom sounds wrecked, his aching eyes fixed on the curve of your belly. “I fucked everything up. I… I left you alone for this entire time, and you had to do this all without me.” He rests his forehead against your bump, very, very gently, and you see him close his eyes. “I am a terrible partner.”

Rolling your fingers over the scruff of his hair, you guide him up to look at you. It’s second nature as you roll a thumb over his cheekbone, trying to instil the action with love and reassurance.

“I’m not angry,” you tell him. “You didn’t know, and you didn’t get arrested on purpose. If anything, you should be angry at me for keeping this a secret.” Your teeth catch your lower lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought telling you would only make things worse. I’m sorry.”

Tom shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t apologise.” He rests a hand on your leg, the other still on the curve of your front. “I’m sorry.” He drops his voice and looks at the bump. “And I’m sorry to you too, little one.” He nudges his mouth forward and deposits a soft kiss to your stomach. “I love you too.”

Digging one of your hands into your coat pocket, you pull out a photo. “Here,” you urge, handing it to your boyfriend. Tom takes it after a moment, his eyes slow to move away from your front.

He releases a noise somewhere between an exclamation and a choke, nimble fingers gripping the image from your ultrasound. His cheeks flush a brilliant rose.

“When was this?” he whispers.

“At three months,” you reply. You continue to run your hand over the top of his head, trying to soothe him as he absorbs so much information at once. “I went with my mum and Haz.”

“Haz?”

You nod. “Harry and Sam lost a bet.”

Tom hums. He looks between the photo and your bump, then nudges forward to kiss the rise again. His lips are so warm you can feel them through the material of your dress. “Have they been looking after you well enough?”

A light laugh slips past your lips. “Yeah,” you promise. “They helped so much, Tom. It was hard at first… Really hard. Especially when we thought you’d be in there for five years, but… Things worked out.” You have to pause to gather your thoughts. “We converted one of the rooms into a nursery. There’s still stuff left to do, and we can do that together, of course, but… They were all really helpful.”

“Good.” Tom looks up at you, still kneeling, and your hand slips down to cup his face. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I wish I could’ve been here for all of this.”

Shrugging gently, you squeeze his face. “You can be here for the rest of it,” you promise. “And, I guess… If we have another one, you’ll be there for all of that, right?”

“Of course, darling.” You smile as Tom tilts his lips to knock against the side of your palm.

“So it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Chuckling softly, you nod. “Yes,” you promise. “I love you, and I’m so happy this has happened for us, even if the timing was difficult.” Feeling yourself well up, you exhale slowly. “We’re going to be parents, Tom. Isn’t that crazy?”

“It’s brilliant.” Tom’s eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be a father.” He blinks. “What the fuck.”

Laughing, you move your hands to the crown of his head. “Yeah, it’ll take a while to get used to that.”

“I’ll get there,” he states. Tom returns his attention to the bump. “Hey, little one,” he coos, voice all silk and amber tones, “it’s going to be the biggest honour of my life being your dad.”

Tom spends a while at your feet, speaking softly to you and your bump, and you keep your hand resting on the back of his head. He’s weary when he finally climbs to his feet but regains some of that spark when you step forward to kiss him. You don’t mean to make it as heated as you do, but it hasn’t only been your heart that’s missed Tom. You’ve craved him, constantly, during every single lonely night, and now that he’s here, you’re willing to take everything you can get.

“I love you,” you say, hushed against his mouth.

Tom’s teeth brush over your lower lip, and you moan when he tugs. There’s a fervour to it, hot lust burning through sensitive emotions. He releases your lip and pulls back to stare at you, his eyes rippling darker.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. He brings his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. “I love everything about you.”

Your mouths come back together, and it’s messier than before, your lips wettening as your kisses become wilder. Tongues dance and teeth clash as your body temperature starts to rise. Now you’ve moved through the emotional reunion, you’re left with an underlying pulse—a heat throbbing persistently between your legs. The fire builds as you hear Tom’s grunts and feel the desperation in his hands when they grab at your sides and jerk you closer, his mouth devouring yours until your lips are puffy and tender. You’re greedy, chasing more, desiring everything you’ve missed out on in the months you’ve been apart from your lover.

“Darling,” Tom murmurs, breaking the kiss to whisper hotly against your lips, “I missed you, but if you keep this up, we’re not going to get home.”

Desire takes hold of you. “Who said I wanted to go home?” You push in closer, shifting slightly until you’re able to feel the hardness of his crotch pressing up against your thigh. The familiarity of it all makes you inhale sharply. You drop your tone, trying to seem coy as you speak, “I don’t think you understand how badly I needed you whilst you were away, Tom. I missed you.”

The tips of his teeth glint as he arches his brows. “Well…” Tom mumbles. “I owe you about four months of lost opportunities.” He swallows, briefly breaking from the lust-filled headspace to look guilty. You smooth it away by reaching down to squeeze at his hands. “If my radiantly stunning fiancé decides she wants me to start repenting for that now, then who am I to stop her?”

Rolling your eyes, you step away from the car. “You’re a suck-up,” you taunt. You plant a light kiss to his lips. “C’mon,” you urge. “The car.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “The backseat?” he teases. “Shit, angel. You must be desperate.”

Warmth tickles your face. “Shut up.”

Tom smirks deviously. “It’s okay,” he soothes. He darts forward to open the car door for you, resting his hand on your lower back as you step forward. “I’m just as desperate as you, baby.”

“I hate you,” you murmur. Tom follows you into the car, shutting the door behind you both. You wait for him to sit before straddling his lap, your legs stretching until you have a shin planted on either side of his thighs. The position is comfortable, with enough space between your bump and his chest for you to breath, and you whimper as Tom bends nearer to ghost his lips over yours.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs.

You want to tease him, but you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’re alright with too much adoration to even think about pressing it down.

“I really don’t,” you agree.

Tom makes a soft noise of vindication, the tip of his nose brushing yours for just a moment until he’s bearing down and bringing your lips together. You sigh, reaching up and urging him closer. His lips are lovely, and you enjoy kissing them for a while, but then you find yourself distracted by the open expanse of his neck. With his hair buzzed, you’re keenly aware of his throat, pale and sensitive, and if there’s one thing you remember about your boyfriend, it’s his affinity for lovebites.

You bring your lips to the side of his neck, nuzzling your mouth against the long, pale stretch of his throat. Smirking against his skin, you start to suckle deep hickeys against the side of his neck, revelling in the throaty gasps Tom deposits into the air in response.

“Fuck, darling,” Tom whines. He has a hand on your back, urging you closer. When you graze the tips of your teeth against his skin, he whimpers. “Shit. More.”

“More?” you tease. “Forgotten all your manners, Tom?”

He growls. The hand on your back shifts to the back of your head, and he jerks you ever closer. He’s still mindful, especially of the bump laying between you, but he knows just as well as you that you aren’t a piece of porcelain; you like being tugged around. You’ve missed it.

“Give me what I want, and maybe I’ll return the favour.” He says it like you’re oblivious to the desperation in his words. You decide to oblige him.

“Okay,” you murmur. You look up to meet his gaze, his honey-brown eyes full of appreciation. For a moment, it knocks you off balance. It’s so strange readjusting to having Tom back—almost overwhelming to be able to touch someone who had existed only in your memories for so many weeks. You drop your head and give him what he wants.

Tom’s skin tastes clean, and it smells distantly of pinecones. He groans, fisting at your hair and holding you close as you kiss and suck along his skin, drawing deep hues to the surface of his neck. He shifts in his seat, basking in the pain and whining every time you soothe a fresh mark with the warmth of your tongue. You keep your hand resting on his hair, the cropped length of his buzz prickly and coarse beneath the pads of your fingertips.

“Oh god yeah,” he murmurs, voice mingling with the wet noises coming from your lips. “Your mouth is so fucking good, baby. I missed it.” Grunting, he brings a hand to your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hips hard. “I thought about you all the time in there.”

Tom releases his hold on your hair and begins to stroke his hands over your back. As you continue to mark his neck, he starts to tease you, gradually dropping the heat of his palms lower and lower. You can’t stop yourself from bucking down into his hold, moaning against his neck as he grabs handfuls of your ass.

“Tom,” you break off to whimper, panting softly. You feel dizzy on the taste of his skin. “You’re being mean.”

“Mean?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “How am I being mean?” Tom squeezes the curves of your figure, his slender fingers warm against your skin. You’re in a dress, the material thin, and he doesn’t hesitate to curve his hands beneath the hem and bring them to rest over your panties. “You’re the one who wanted to come in here and get your hands all over me… I’m doing what you asked.” He breaks off, chuckling darkly. “That’s not how things usually work, though, is it?”

The air between you shifts.

You pull away from Tom’s neck, your mouth inflamed and throbbing. You have to dig your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your whimper when Tom brings a hand to the front of your legs, gently brushing two of his long fingers over the front of your panties. He’s teasing with it, eyes alight with deviousness, jaw set in a determined line.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Maybe I want to be in charge this time.”

Tom laughs gently. “Oh, yeah?” He rubs your cunt a little faster, causing you to suck in a sharp breath as you feel the delicate pressure on your clit. The contact makes your passage clench, growing wet enough to dampen the front of your panties. “So you don’t like this, hmm? You don’t want me to follow through on everything I have planned for you?”

“What have you got planned?”

He tuts. “Oh, I’m not going to tell you, angel. That’d be too easy. Either you want me to be in charge, or you decide to call the shots.” Tom smirks as he feels you buck down against his hand. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you’d find the strength to push back, but you don’t. It’s been so long, and your cunt is weeping already just from the husky tones in his voice.

“You’re in charge,” you whisper. The vindicated smirk he flashes in response is enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Damn right, baby.” Tom moves his hands away, pressing them to your waist instead. “Can you lay down for me, please?”

You shuffle across the car seat as instructed, Tom shifting until he’s kneeling in the footwell of the backseats. It’s a good thing the car is obscenely huge, otherwise, the already-cramped fit would be unworkable.

Draping your legs over Tom’s shoulders, he pushes the hem of your dress up, bunching it just above your bump. The hungry fire in his eyes fades slightly.

“Is this okay? Are you comfy?”

“It’s fine,” you soothe. “Are you okay down there?”

Tom nods. The scruff of his buzzed head scratches against your inner thighs. “I’m bloody perfect,” he responds. “Can I touch you?”

“Please do.”

The tip of his nose nuzzles against your covered clit. “Perfect,” Tom purrs, his breath hot against your panties. “I think it’s time I remind you who owns this fucking pussy… As hot as it was when you were trying to tell me what to do, it’s not on.” He brings his mouth away from your core, and you whimper as his tongue laps gently across your thigh, the muscle deliciously slippery. “I’m the one calling the shots.”

You’re throbbing, every inch of you aching for his touch. The burn is visceral—pulsing, wet. “Yes, sir,” you return. Tom’s eyes snap to yours. “Do whatever you want.”

“Say please.”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you add, “please.”

“Good, baby. You sound so pretty begging for me.” Tom easily pulls your panties down your legs, returning to push your thighs further apart. He brings both of his thumbs to your sensitive lips, humming when you whimper. Using the pads of his fingers, he gently parts your centre, groaning softly at the sight. “Say it,” he murmurs, entranced by the paradise between your legs. “Tell how badly you want me.”

He’s incredibly infuriating, but you play right into his hand. “Please, Tom,” you whine. “Please touch me.”

He hums. “Of course, lovie,” he murmurs. He glances up at you. “All you had to do was ask.”

The first touch of his tongue against your slit makes your eyes roll back. A breathless whine slips past your lips as his mouth envelops your clit, the strong tip of his tongue nuzzling over your sensitive skin in a way you’ve only dreamed of. You’ve been able to get off in his absence, but nothing can simulate the sizzling heat of his mouth and his tongue, nor the scratching of his short hair against your fleshy inner thighs.

The way he unravels you is obscene, toned with the sounds of spit and lazy lips, the sensations of desperation. Tom devours you, using his elbows to push your thighs apart as he buries his face as close to your centre as possible. You can barely see him over the rise of your belly, but you can certainly feel him. When you start to grind down against his face, things only escalate, your eyes fluttering shut as your spine arches in response to his feverish movements.

“Oh god,” he murmurs, voice thick as it vibrates across you. “Missed this… Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart.”

Your high rolls over you suddenly and without warning, manifesting itself in a silent cry as your body goes rigid. You hear Tom hum in surprise, then feel his hands lock around your thighs, holding back your legs as they shake in the face of absolute pleasure.

“Sorry,” you pant, recovering gradually, “I didn’t know that was going to happen then.”

Tom runs his tongue over your slit, still sensitive and throbbing. “‘S okay, lovie,” he replies, voice warm. He nuzzles in closer and brings two slender fingers to push against your entrance. Your hole is hot and pulsing, pooled with your arousal. You hear it pucker as he gently presses against your cunt, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. “I’m not done making it up to you, though. Is that okay?”

Exhaling, you nod quickly. “Fuck yeah,” you say, struggling to think. “Oh.”

He slips two fingers into you, your eager walls parting and welcoming him in. Tom removes his mouth from your heat and replaces his tongue with the pad of a thumb, and when you release a loud noise of strangled enjoyment, he begins to crook his fingers into you. He strokes his digits against your walls with poise and elegance, nudging up against your g-spot and stroking, again and again, chasing the noises you release.

“So pretty,” he coos. “My pretty baby. Making all those beautiful noises.” Tom smiles almost proudly. His chin is wet with your arousal. “I love your cunt… Look at how well it's taking me.” To prove his point, he feeds a third finger alongside the others. “So greedy for me, eh? Greedy little pussy. So hot. So wet. God…”

Tom drops his head again, disappearing from your sight of vision. You moan, body jerking as you feel his tongue move around his fingers, catching the arousal that seeps from your pussy as he works you open. He releases an obscene moan before dragging his mouth to your clit, stimulating you with his hands and tongue in tandem.

“Holy fuck,” you whimper. You feel hot in the best way, your skin becoming sweaty as you writhe over the leather seat. “Feels so good, Tommy.” It feels like heaven—especially when he bends his fingers and the tips of them stroke up against your sensitive spot. “‘M gonna cum again.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

Tom chuckles. “I’m so good at this,” he murmurs. “Go on, angel. Don’t hold back on my account… You’re so pretty when you cum.”

The tide breaks, and your climax rolls across you, legs trembling as Tom holds you in place. You writhe as you bask in the heat, your knuckles losing blood as you clench your hands into hard fists. The press of your nails against the soft flesh of your palms hurts, but you don’t care. It feels far too good to think about anything beyond Tom.

You ride it out, and Tom eventually draws his face away from your clit. He kisses along your inner thighs as you gasp for air, only removing his fingers when you start to whimper. As good as the climaxes have felt, panting for breath on the backseat, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough by far.

“Get up here,” you say breathlessly.

Tom chuckles as he appears from between your legs. He gives your thighs a little tap before he closes your legs, wriggling out of the footwell as you sit up. Easily, like you’ve done a thousand times before, you swing a leg over Tom’s lap, straddling him when he sits with his back against the car seat.

“Are you okay up there?” he checks, bringing his clean hand to rest on the curve of your stomach. When you nod, his brown eyes darken. “Perfect…” he hums. “Clean off my fingers, will you?”

You nod, opening your mouth expectantly and moaning as Tom slips three of his fingers between your lips. Fighting your smirk, you maintain eye contact with him, your pride swelling as you see his cheeks darken. He gently fucks his fingers into your mouth, making you moan at the movements and the taste of your heat as it spreads across your tongue. He’s messy with it, and you feel your lips and chin grow heavy from spittle.

“Pretty,” he coos, “so, so pretty.”

Tom goes to move his fingers from your mouth, only for a detail to make you pause. Eyes straining, you reach up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in place just as his fingers pull away from your lips.

“What’s this?” you query, narrowing your eyes. You drag Tom’s left hand nearer your face, gasping softly as you take note of a new tattoo resting at the bottom of his ring finger.

“Oh.” Tom shifts around slightly, biting at his lower lip. “I got your initials tattooed… When we get married, the ring will cover them, but I wanted you with me—I want you with me—all the time, even without a bit of metal.” He hesitates. “Is that okay?”

You press a delicate kiss across the letters. “Yes,” you say. You feel shy as you meet the eyes of the man who loves you so immensely. “That’s really, really sweet, Tom.” You bite your lip as you look up at him. “Gone soft on me, baby?”

“‘M always soft on you,” he says gruffly, guiding a hand to your face. He brings you closer, encouraging you to lean higher on your knees. “Love of my life, angel. You know that… My wife.”

You shift on his lap, smiling bashfully. “I’m not your wife yet.”

“Soon, soon, soon,” he whispers.

Both of you come together, no words needing to be exchanged for you to know what to do. Tom loses his clothes as you sit up a little straighter, one of your hands curling around the headrest of a seat as Tom angles himself slightly. With the rise of your bump between you, you aren’t able to be flushed together like times before, but the man beneath you is quick to readjust so he’s laying further back, giving you plenty of room to move in a way that’s comfortable. He kisses over your knuckles as you run his hard cock through your slit, his interested eyes fixed firmly on the sight of his length as you finally begin to move down.

The moment the head of his cock pushes into you feels indescribable. The ache of the stretch falls away as relief pours over you, the closeness satisfying far more than just your arousal.

“Gentle, gentle,” Tom murmurs, hand resting on your belly. “Be careful.”

You chuckle, beginning to move but only slowly. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it won’t hurt them.” Your eyes roll back slightly as you bring your hand down to rest on Tom’s shoulder, moaning quietly. “You can move too… Please, move.”

“Okay, darling.” Tom gently starts to move his hips. He groans as he slumps back against the seat, beautiful face coloured light pink. You’d missed the expressions he makes, how emotive the slants of his features can be. His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses as you ride him, your cunt so wet the movements are almost effortless. “That feels… so good.” His voice is hollow, gutless. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about you. You, and your hot cunt.” He moans again, unable to sit around the words. Tom ruts into you a little harder, guiding you to move faster with the hand on your hip. “Taking me so well, darling. So fucking well. I’m not going to last at all.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t either.”

Tom manages a lazy smirk. He opens his eyes as he brings a hand to your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with his thumb. You jerk a little at the stimulation but start to ease into it, basking in the pleasure from the bud and Tom’s cock. He’s buried deep within you, pressing your walls apart, the curved tip of his head brushing deeper than you’ve felt in months.

“So tight,” he murmurs. Tom leans back, clearly enjoying the sight of you riding him. “My darling. You look so beautiful like this… I swear your tits are bigger, too.” The hand on your belly gently caresses the bump, Tom’s tongue briefly wandering out to wet his lower lip. “Look at how beautiful you are… I can’t wait to knock you up again.”

Stifling a moan, it takes everything in you to focus on your movements. “You feel so good, Tom,” you whimper, unable to hold back the praise he loves to hear. “I missed this so much.”

“I know, baby. I missed this too… Come on, now.” His voice hardens slightly. “I’m about to cum, but I don’t want to unless you’re right here beside me. So… will you be a good girl and finish with me? Please?”

Heat flushes through your system as you bounce your head quickly. Your eyes close, breath hitching as you feel your climax rise. It starts in the pit of your stomach, a coil pulling tighter and tighter until it bends and snaps, bursting wide and spilling pleasure across your body in warm waves of enjoyment. You cry out as you fall apart, holding Tom’s shoulder tightly as his hand clamps around your waist. You feel him mirror you, hear his loud groan as his cock pulses inside you, your movements unceasing as you ride it out together.

It ends, but you stay joined. Tom sits up, the distance put between you by your belly requiring him to stretch closer and seize your lips in a smouldering kiss. His hand returns to your cheek, yours to his, and the look in his eyes is dizzying.

“I love you so much,” he speaks, words soft like a promise. “Everything I do from here on out is for you, and…” He glances back at your stomach. “And our child.” Words thickening, you see Tom’s eyes well with tears again. He chuckles, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” he adds. “I get a bit choked up thinking about it.”

You stroke your fingers over the back of his hair, spiky strands smooth against your hand. “Don’t apologise for expressing your emotions, baby,” you whisper. “It’s been a very long day.”

Tom nods. “Love you,” he murmurs again. He nuzzles his head into the palm of your hand, his eyes closing.

“I love you too,” you say, words truer than they’ve ever been before. You bend down to kiss his forehead. “Do you want to go home now?”

He hums. “Y/N,” he whispers. Tom blinks up at you, eyes soft. He catches the palm of your hand with a few kisses as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m already home.”

Teeth grazing your lower lip, you hold back your smile as you marvel at how clichéd he’s become. You bend down and kiss him very gently. “Sap,” you murmur. “Love you, though.”

Tom pulls a face. He rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice—only love. “Love you too,” he says. “Yes, though,” he adds, “I would love to go home.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

finis

yay

that’s probably a wrap on mob!tom ! i don’t have any more fic ideas for him :( that being said, this was a lot of fun to write, and i really, really hope you liked it :D ik the theme isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you read it all, i love you very very much

please let me know if you have any thoughts!!

masterlist through the link in my bio <3

[tariah23]

I know that I’ve talked sm shit about naruto over the years, (I pretty much have the authority to. I’ve been with it since 2005… god that’s a long time. I was like in 4th, 5th grade when it came out… Naruto pretty much ran the entire 00’s after it came out like bro, you literally couldn’t escape it. It was a fun time though since the series was pretty exciting and it still holds up pretty well despite there being so many issues (not surrounding the story itself since it was always pretty solid (later Shippuden got a bit messy but other than that, yeah.) but mainly with the characterization of certain characters and how Kishimoto ignored a lot of them in favor of his focusing on the Shakespearean ass romance between Sasuke and Naruto lmfao. In a goddamn shounen of all things. It might just seem like memes to people who only know of Naruto the series, the lore, and notable characters from a more surface level point of view but speaking from a person who, like I’ve said, has been a fan since 2005 uhh… their relationship is… lmfaooo. There was even an old article or something where Kishimoto said himself that he would’ve liked to make their relationship more… official but it’s a shounen. And his editors…! Funny that this probably doesn’t even get talked about as often despite how bizarre it is lol. I’m getting off topic but I never shipped anyone from the series I was too little to care about that kinda stuff back when I was watching/ reading the series. It’s more like they were always kinda meant to be like it’s so natural? So that’s how I’ve always viewed them I guess. It’s so fun to make fun of them lol. I’m all over the place, man. I’m not trying to sound like a fujo or whatever but they were definitely in love lol. I used to draw ship art of them for fun (never seriously but I don’t mind it at all since look at how Kishimoto wrote them lmfao. It’s like… yeahhhh they should’ve married each other. I don’t even think Sasuke came to Naruto’s wedding. Probably didn’t want to see him getting married off to anyone else because Kishimoto likes to make everything between them dramatic as hell. It’s actually hilarious. But getting back on topic! Even now, Naruto still has such a strong pull on it’s fans, especially long time fans) but it’s just… it’s one of those things that I’ll probably always love even if I step away from it for a gazillion more years. Sorry for talking about Naruto I just get the urge to love it all over again every once in a while since it’s more than just nostalgia for me. Look at me. Am I cringy 😔? Sorry for talking about naruto should be my personal naruto tag now….. I’m being so annoying about this lol. I wanna draw naruto stuff uhhh… I haven’t drawn any naruto art in years… prob since 2014 or so… I still love the unfinished naruto comic that I drew from 5th-7th grade… there’s like 20+ pages if I’m counting the front and backs of loose leaf school paper lol. I remember the kids in my class would go “you’re drawing naruto?” *proceeds to pass my shit around the whole class while I anxiously wait for them to give me my art back orz…* it was worn loose leaf so they could’ve easily torn my comic by accident.

[jean-kayak]

As a Greek mythology nerd, can I request hc’s of Dabi, Mirio, Kirishima, and Todoroki reacting to their black crush having a Gorgon quirk? She has locs that can turn into snakes, her quirk works when she glares at someone to turn em to stone but if she glares too long; she temporarily blinds herself so her snakes help with her senses, and she has slit eyes and a snake tongue that she jokingly hisses with at times. Sis is a bit self conscious of her quirk since people fear/discriminate mutant quirk types so she’s worried about being an embarrassment to her partner

A/N: Here you go anon, I hope you like it! Also, I made Todoroki's so long lmfao

🔵He doesn't even care about how you look

🔵And I mean like, your appearance literally doesn't bother him at all

🔵When you first met, it was late at night, and he scared you

🔵Your back was to him, so your first instinct was to activate your quirk, the snakes looking his way as you froze

🔵"Holy shit, that's pretty cool."

🔵"Who are you?" you ask defensively, keeping your back towards him

🔵"Someone who's not gonna hurt you."

🔵You scoff. "Yeah, right. One look at you and I can turn you to stone," you declare, your threat responded with a chuckle

🔵"No shit." You debate in your head if you should turn around, but if you run it could be worse for you

🔵But from his words and his demeanor, it doesn't really seem like his goal is to cause you harm

🔵You slowly turn around, your snakes turning back into hair, your eyes finally landing on him. "What do you want?"

🔵"For starters? Your number."

🔵And that's how your relationship started, mostly Dabi convincing you that there's nothing wrong with your quirk

🔵And there's nothing wrong with you, and that he will be the last person to ever judge anything about you

🔵His crush on you is pretty obvious considering the fact that he keeps popping out of nowhere, asking you different questions about your quirk and what you can do

🔵One day, he makes a joke wondering if you could make only his dick turn to stone

🔵And you give him a crazy look as you shake your head before you hiss at him softly

🔵"Did you just hiss at me?" You didn't even realize it, quickly recoiling into yourself, and he scoffs at you fondly, grabbing your hand loosely to turn your attention back towards him

🔵"Babe, I told you. I don't care, and it doesn't bother me. I like you, okay? And your quirk is awesome. I mean that."

☀️He was on patrol one day when he first met you, seeing you surrounded by a group of people cornering you towards the wall

☀️"What's going on over here?"

☀️Everyone freezes, all of them slowly turning around, and his eyebrows raise when he sees someone standing in the middle

☀️Your back is against the wall, your head down. "Well?"

☀️They don't say anything, and within the next few seconds they're quickly walking away

☀️The whole interaction confuses him, but he's more focused on you, turning his attention towards you

☀️"Are you okay?" he asks gently, and you nod quickly, glancing up at him for a split second

☀️"Yes, yeah, I am. Thanks," you tell him, finally looking up at him

☀️He freezes for a second when your eyes finally meet his, and he's captivated immediately

☀️You blink at him, and it jumps him out of his temporary trance, realizing he was just staring at you and wasn't saying anything

☀️And he clears his throat. "Um, do you need me to walk you anywhere?"

☀️You give him a soft smile as you shake your head, pointing towards your left. "No, it's okay. The building I need to get to is right there. Thank you though."

☀️He's nodding his head, telling you to have a good day before you echo him and walk away

☀️For about the next few days, he purposefully patrols the area where he met you, hoping he can run into you again

☀️When he does spot you miraculously one day, he's quickly making his way over to you, calling out before he reaches you to not scare you

☀️A small smile forms on your face as he gets to you. "I just wanted to check--oh." Your face drops when he suddenly stops, and he cringes internally when he realizes he said that out loud

☀️"I'm sorry, it's just your eyes...are different." They don't look the same as when he first ran into you, and they look like average eyes

☀️You instantly curl into yourself as you huff softly. "They're contacts. My eyes kinda freaking people out cause they're weird-"

☀️"Unique." He cuts you off instantly, and you meet his gaze again. "I really like your eyes. They're beautiful."

☀️You can't help but smile as you feel your face grow warm. "And I would really like to take you out on a date if that's okay."

🔴Thinks your quirk is the coolest thing in the world

🔴He always saw that you would shy away slightly, and he asked you why

🔴Your response was that most people think you're a freak, explaining that you've been called worse names that you wouldn't like to repeat

🔴He's taken aback, anger stirring slightly in his chest at the thought of people being mean to you, and he makes it his mission to never make you feel that way again

🔴He's always asking you questions about your quirk, nearly gushing about what you can do and how awesome it is

🔴To the point where he doesn't even realize that he's got a massive crush on you

🔴He realizes when he compliments for probably the hundredth time that day, and you give him a fond look, your eyes making his heart flutter in his chest

🔴He suddenly starts to get really nervous around you and becomes very cautious about what questions he asked because he doesn't want to weird you out

🔴You notice this like immediately because you're so used to him throwing questions at you

🔴When you ask him about it, he chuckles softly as he rubs the back of his neck

🔴"Can, uh," he trails off, his face going warm, feeling dumb now, but he's already started so he might as well finish. "I touch your hair?"

🔴You raise your eyebrows in surprise, and he starts talking before you can answer

🔴"I know it's weird, and I probably just made you really uncomfortable. But I just think it's cool that you can just make it come alive, and now it's really awkward--"

🔴You cut off his rambling with a chuckle as you step closer to him. "It's okay, Eijirou."

🔴You hold out one of your locs, and he carefully runs his fingers over it, and he jumps slightly when it slowly turns into a snake, coming to life in front of his eyes

🔴"God, you are so amazing," he breathes in awe not even realizing what he said

🔴"It's crazy how much I like you." Now that is what makes both of you freeze, and his eyes widen his mouth falling open slightly as he wishes a hole would come in and swallow him

🔴"You what?" you chuckle slightly, turning your head to face him, the snake turning back into your hair

🔴His face is crazy red, but then he thinks, what does he have to lose? "I really, really like you."

🔴And he's practically through the roof when you confess the same thing, and when you agree to go on a date with him

❄You were a barista at the cafe he always went to before he went to work, and he was immediately drawn to your eyes, and he always caught himself staring for just a beat too long whenever you would hand him his drink

❄One day he happens to catch you sitting at one of the tables, so he decided to take a chance and sit with you, starting up a conversation, and he had checked the time on his phone, realizing he was going to be late for work, but for whatever reason, he couldn't find himself to care

❄The only reason why he left was because you had to get to work, but he started making it a priority to get there early so that he could talk to you for as long as he could, and Sero actually calls him out on it, tired of having to cover for him, and that's when Todoroki tells him about you

❄He nearly rambles on for thirty minutes, telling him about how cute it was whenever you would accidentally hiss when you talked really fast or if you were talking about something that was exciting to you

❄They're halfway through patrol when Sero cuts off his list with a chuckle, making Todoroki look at him in confusion. "What's so funny?" he genuinely asks, and Sero raises an eyebrow at him

❄"Because you have a crush, Shouto. It's like clear as day." He stops for a second before noticing that he was basically a broken dam the moment Sero asked him why he had been late for the past couple of weeks

❄He feels his ears go hot as he asks, "Well, what should I do?"

❄"Other than the obvious answer, which is ask her out?" Sero tells him, and he throws out multiple questions, still overwhelmed by the conclusion as he thinks about all of the things that he likes about you

❄Sero laughs softly before giving him some advice to help boost his confidence, and Shouto finds himself outside of the cafe right at closed, knowing that you're the one who closes

❄"Oh, Todoroki. What're you doing here?" He rubs his hands on his pants as before he answers

❄"I was just wondering if I could walk you home? If that's okay with you?"

❄You smile softly as you nod, locking the door before walking down the sidewalk. The walk isn't as awkward as he thought, the conversation flowing between the two of you easily before he notices something

❄"If you don't mind me asking, why're you wearing a sweatshirt?" Even though the sun is starting to set, the humid air is still lingering, and you have to be hot

❄The question immediately changes your demeanor, and he stops walking at your reaction. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if--"

❄"It's my quirk," you start. "It scares people so I cover my hair to prevent that," you admit, feeling at ease with telling him

❄You start to take off the hood, and you stop his protests, telling him that it's okay. He watches as you take a deep breath and close your eyes, and he's in a trance when he watches your locs transform into snakes right in front of his eyes

❄He doesn't respond, and you start to get worried, but then he blurts out, "Can I touch them?"

❄You almost open your eyes in surprise before you chuckle softly as you raise your hand

❄You take his hand and bring it up to the snakes, and he scoffs in amazement as one of them darts its tongue across his finger

❄"This doesn't scare you?" you ask hesitantly

❄"I wanted to ask you out," he responds bluntly, and you deactivate your quirk, opening your eyes to look at him in surprise

❄"Really?" And a soft smile appears on his face as he nods

❄"Yes," he states firmly.

❄And you smile widely. "I'd love to."

[hermannsthumb]

Okay but what about Hermann is just horny 24/7, but he's repressing his feelings. And Newt who sees it and maybe is enjoying a bit. And one day Newt just pins Hermann to a lab wall, ties his arms with a belt or sleeves of his shirt and teases Hermann until he melts in his hands. And Newt murmurs to Hermann something like "sweetheart, you could have just said.." This thought makes me DEAD

a fic! somewhat obviously rated 18+/not for kids' eyes!!!!! so all hidden below the cut, lmfao. dedicated to people on side twitter bc boy do I love some light d/s + nerm

It’s not like Newt’s never looked at Hermann before. Look-looked, in like, a sexy, considering way. It gets lonely in the lab with just the two of them, after all, and usually Hermann is the only face Newt will see for hours, days, one memorable occasion when they were super-swamped with work, a week. His face is the only one that comes to mind when Newt wants to have sexy thoughts for that reason—it’s just, like, easier and takes less imagination to masturbate to the thought of the guy you see every day than anyone else. And Hermann is kind of hot, Newt guesses, in a weird, repressed nerd kind of way. He thinks it has something to do with not knowing what Hermann's bothering to repress so bad. Maybe he's got a hot bod under all those layers or sucks dick like a porn star or something. Or he's hiding how horny he is all the time and would love nothing more than to cut loose for once. (Newt would be happy to take one for the team!) It's gotta be that, because Newt can't imagine why else the thought of Hermann—scowling and hunching over a chalkboard in one of his god-awful tweed blazers—gets him so goddamn riled up every time he sticks his hand down his pants.

Whatever the appeal is, Newt's masturbatory fantasies tend to tilt towards very particular (and well-loved) scenarios: Hermann finally gets fed up with Newt’s obnoxious behavior and shoves him against a wall to teach him a lesson, or Hermann holds Newt down on a bed or the lab couch or the floor and has his way with him to teach him a lesson, or Hermann grips Newt’s shoulders and uses his mouth in any way he sees fit to teach him a lesson. Newt's real into the idea of Hermann being in control. Or, in other words, Hermann doing the doing, Newt doing the taking. Not that Newt is adverse to topping. He'd be down for it if Hermann was. (And not that Newt spends a lot of time considering what Hermann is down for, and whether or not letting Newt top him is on that list, but yeah, Newt does kind of hope it would be.)

He's just...always assumed Hermann would want things that way. Newt's kind of assumed that he would want them that way, too.

All of his preconceived sexy notions about Hermann come crashing down around him one completely ordinary day in the lab.

It happens in a flash, too. A couple of seconds max. Hermann is over in Newt's space (he flagrantly disobeys the tape line more than Newt does, no matter what he may claim), shouting at him about something dumb and waving his cane around for dramatic effect. Only he's not looking where he's waving it, and the end of it comes into contact with a vial of some somewhat lethal weird kaiju gland extract that Newt's been planning on experimenting with this week, and the whole thing fuckin' shatters. "Shit!" Newt says, at the same time Hermann says "Bugger," and, before Newt knows it, Hermann's reaching out to save a pile of Newt's lab notes from certain kaiju gland death.

Which is royally stupid of him. That stuff is already eating through Newt's wooden work bench like it's nothing—God knows what it'd do to Hermann's skin. Newt's messy notes are not worth it.

"Dude, no," Newt exclaims, and grabs Hermann's wrist to stop him.

And Hermann...moans.

They stare at each other. The kaiju gland extract drips to the metal floor, where it sizzles harmlessly.

Hermann pulls his arm away.

"Clean this up," he snaps. He turns heel and storms out, giving Newt a spectacular view of the fiery red flush spreading down the back of his neck.

Huh, Newt thinks. That's something new.

-----

"I'm not some sort of sexual deviant," Hermann assures him. "I have. Er. Entirely respectable—tastes. Typically."

"Uh-huh," Newt says.

"Only this is quite out of character for me," Hermann says.

Newt pulls his tie taut around Hermann's wrists to watch Hermann squirm and grins, just a little, before knotting it loosely. "No offense, Hermann," he says, "but bondage isn't exactly hardcore. Besides, it's fine if you like out-there kinda stuff. No judgement."

“But I don’t,” Hermann says.

“I’m not saying you do,” Newt says, “I’m saying—”

“And this isn’t bondage.” Hermann sniffs. “Bondage sounds—”

"Look, dude, do I need to gag you?" Newt jokes.

Except Hermann maybe doesn't get the joke: his eyes widen, and mouth hangs open. Not exactly the shouty, loud response and demand for respect Newt was expecting. Also something new. Newt's learning a lot of very, very unexpected things about Hermann, and part of him wishes he had a notebook or his tape recorder on hand to take inventory of all of it. Subject A (Hermann Gottlieb) likes having his wrists pinned and his big dumb mouth shut up. Conclusion: ? "I—I beg your pardon?" Hermann says.

Today marks a week after the kaiju gland incident. A week of furtive glances across the tape line, Hermann's badly-hidden blushes, and Newt reevaluating every single goddamn thing he's ever thought or assumed about the guy (and himself, to be honest), and Newt was finally the one to snap. In Newt's defense, it wasn't totally out of the blue. At lunch time an uncharacteristically quiet and bashful Hermann slid a cup of coffee onto Newt's desk, mumbling something about how Newt really needed to get more sleep, and Newt just...

Hermann didn't moan when Newt grabbed his wrists that time; his tongue darted out over his lips, and he looked at Newt through the dark eyelashes of his half-mast eyelids. "Please," he had said.

Newt gets why Hermann was being so weird and cagey about it, he really does. It’s hard to admit to yourself you want something kinda embarrassing, and Newt knows it’s just as embarrassing for Hermann to like him as it is for Newt to like Hermann. Newt’s weird, and small, and probably smells bad, and Hermann’s weird, and smells bad (cigarette smoke and moth-eaten sweaters, but Newt jerks off to it anyway, huh, doesn't he), and is slightly not as small. But holy shit, if he didn’t melt into a puddle when Hermann breathed that out all desperately, like it took all he had.

“Do you want me to gag you?” Newt says.

He’s using the skinny tie Hermann claims to hate so much on his wrists, or he might’ve seriously balled up the fabric and shoved it into Hermann’s mouth. There’s not much else in the way of gags readily on hand in the lab, no fabric scraps or anything like that. Maybe they’ll try it later. He kisses Hermann instead, slipping his tongue past those open lips, and Hermann parts them wider with a throaty groan. "Ah, Newton—"

Newt didn’t really expect their first kiss to go like this. He didn’t expect their first kiss to, like, happen in the first place, but it’s especially weird that it’s happening while Hermann is bound up and pressed up against his chalkboard. Newt's been keeping an eye on Hermann's leg, careful of any sign that it's going to give out and that they should move this to the couch, but Newt's knee between both of Hermann's seems to be all the support he needs. “I’m here, dude,” he says, and slips down to press a gentle kiss to Hermann’s jaw instead, then his neck. Hermann tilts his head back with another groan; he flexes against his restraints.

Is Newt the first person Hermann's ever done this with? Or trusted enough to tell he wants to do this?

The possibility kinda just makes this all hotter to Newt. He drags the tips of his fingers up Hermann's chest, feeling his heart pound through the thick layers of his button-down and sweatervest, and drags them back down. He stops just at Hermann's bound wrists. Hermann groans softly. "Do you want me to touch you more?" Newt says.

"Please," Hermann says, "ah, please, Newton—"

Newt does, smiling as he curls up on the toes of his boots and presses another kiss to Hermann's mouth. His right hand, he uses to ruck up Hermann's sweatervest and dig under his shirt; his left hand, he curls the fingers of in Hermann's skinny tie bindings to tug sharply. Hermann's chest is bony and warm beneath his palm. His heart is beating faster, and faster. "Please," Hermann begs again, and this time when Newt kisses him, he sags against Newt helplessly.

"Hermann," Newt murmurs. Hermann's breath is fogging up his glasses and making it difficult for him to see. Which is a goddamn shame, because Newt wants to, like, memorize the image of a flushed and panting and begging Hermann, tattoo it to his skin forever as a reminder of today, a whole big splash of color on his back where he was planning on putting another kaiju. Yeah, Newt takes back what he said earlier, Hermann isn't just kinda hot—he's very hot. He drags his tongue over Hermann's pulse point, and says, just as gently, "Hermann, you could've just said."

Newt would've done anything for Hermann when he grabbed Hermann's wrists and Hermann breathed out a simple please, and Newt would do anything for Hermann now. Newt would get every single tattoo removed if it meant making Hermann happy. He bites down on the sweaty, pale skin of Hermann's neck, unable to hold back a moan of his own when Hermann's whole body writhes with it, and shoves his hand down Hermann's oversized slacks.

"I want you to come," Newt mumbles, rubbing at him furiously, "I want you to come, I wanna make you come, I wanna—"

Hermann muffles his cry in Newt's shoulder when he does. Newt waits until he's stopped shaking to untie his wrists carefully, and isn't surprised when Hermann immediately grabs Newt's shoulders to steady himself. (Hermann thighs are still trembling from the awesome orgasm Newt gave him. It's pretty hot. But also, Newt should probably grab his cane for him.) "You—you've made a terrific mess of me," Hermann sniffs, vaguely annoyed, like he's reprimanding Newt for knocking a piece of kaiju intestine on the floor again.

Newt decides not to mention to Hermann that he kinda soaked the knee of Newt's jeans, too. He can do laundry later. "Sorry, man," Newt says, but Hermann gives another, happier sniff when Newt kisses his cheek. "I'll take care of it."

[ouranoa]

tw: suggestive, swearing. [not proofread]

ever so slowly, you felt your eyelids shutting. it was getting late and you were getting tired. it was understandable that he was an executive member, and that they were to attend any meeting that was organized; however, you never understood why they were so damn long. the alcohol you had been drinking was beginning to sink into your system, the feeling of exhaustion washing over you- it was too much for you to fight back. there's nothing wring with having a little nap, you thought, he probably won't be back for another 45 minutes or so. Finally giving in, you allowed your body to indulge into your sleepy sensations and drift off to sleep.

not even 10 minutes into your cat nap, a white hooded figure pushed your room door open and stepped inside. your vision was hazy so you couldn't make out their facial features, and you were far too tired for your body to react in a panic. your senses had not yet awakened, and you weren't bothered to hear the faint noises they made. that is, until they began to speak.

"fallen asleep already? sweet."

your eyes snapped open, and your limps stirred from their stiff form. the deep voice that rang in your ears brought a sense of relief yet excitement to you.

"you're finally back," you replied arching your brow

chishiya removed his hood and flip flops before sauntering towards you.

"yeah, something came up and things are....out of the ordinary let's say."

"this whole fucking thing is 'out of the ordinary'" you snapped back, raising your digits to make air quotes.

instead of replying, he hauled himself onto the bed next to your form, causing it to shift ever so slightly. lifting his hand to your jaw he said in a sultry voice.

"so you missed me that much huh, baby?"

damn him. he wasnt even trying, yet he knew how to get you worked up in the simplest of ways. but you weren't giving in. not tonight.

you tilted your head away from him, averting your gaze to a painting of an elegant woman. you didnt want to make things awkward though, so you attempted minimal conversation.

"did the militants give you any trouble?"

you heard nothing for a second, then he answered.

"please, they're too idiotic. even if they did do something to hurt me or any of the exclusive members, they wouldn't have thought it through and that would only cause more chaos to surface."

you smiled. there was just something about his cockiness that made him so attractive. the way his brain worked, hell, even the way he spoke. didn't know how you managed to claim him as yours, but you weren't complaining.

"what about you?" his gravelly voice filling your room

you sighed. his life was more interesting than yours by far and you kinda wished that something would come up to you.

"no. just seeing people feeling each other up, alcoholics being stupid- you know, the usual stuff."

forgetting about what you had told yourself, you chanced a glance at him; but as if on cue, his eyes met yours. you stiffened. this was the first time you got a proper look at him and he looked hot.

his silver hair swept across his face perfectly covering a little section of his feline eyes. his brown orbs looked so cold and you find yourseld getting lost in them every time you look at them. his lips, so luscious as if they were made to be kissed. your faced inched closer to his involuntarily.

you were swimming in dangerous waters now, and whatever move that you or chishiya made could most likely cause you to drown. but you were getting tired. you wanted him and you couldn't stand him and his silent teasing.

you pushed your lips onto his and waited. you felt him chuckle before his hands cup your cheeks. his lips shifted causing a pleasant harmony between the two of you.

as the seconds went by, the deeper the kiss got. chishiya maneuvered his tongue into your mouth. you were distracted by his wet muscle so you were caught off guard when one of curled around your neck. you gasped at the sudden lack of oxygen and he took this opportunity to start painting purple and pink flowers on your collar bone.

he laughed and airy laugh and said, "i was waiting to see how long you'd last. i could see the need in your eyes."

he removed his hand from your neck, and you took a deep inhale.

"you're so cocky, you know that?" you panted, unbuttoning your shirt.

chishiya rolled on top of you and smirked, making you feel small. "mhm, but you love that shit."

once your shirt was removed he lowered himself to your stomach and began to kiss down it your breathing begame ragged and you tried to compose yourself. it wasn't exactly effective though.

you were about to loose yourself when his actions came to a complete stop. you remained still for a split second before arching your neck to look at him. he blinked a couple of times before removing his face drom your middle.

his expression was unreadable, but it almost looked like he had forgotten something.

then, all to quickly he got off the bed and was putting on his flip flops.

"ch-chishiya," you stammered, still recovering,"where are you going?"

"i have to take care of something. i'm sorry y/n."

you let out a groan of frustration. for fuck's sake.

"when will you be back?"

chishiya didnt respond for a moment and stared at the door, keys in hand. he was thinking.

"not until later tonight," he began, grabbing a handheld transceiver, "you'll have to leave soon too. get dressed and be downstairs in about five minutes."

he wasn't going to lie, chishiya felt bad for leaving you hanging like that, but he had a job to attend to. so, as a way of apologizing, he rushed over to you and pressed his lips on your forhead.

even if he did make you agitated at times, you still loved him and couldnt ignore the fact that he was a sweet man. watching him leave your room pained you, but you got up to get dressed anyways.

yes, your boyfriend seemed unbothered about the whole situation, but you didnt keep your mind from wondering about what secrets lie within the beach

authors note: [okok, i am feeding my fellow 'alice in borderland' starved fans since theres literally no fics on it yet. love y'all and sorry if it was bad lmfao 😗🤍]

here matey c: @donnyhateslife @cruel-spider

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #104

(taken january 22nd; uploading surveys taken while gone)

Have you ever been for a ride in the back of a truck? Yeah, when I was way younger.

Did your grandparents teach you anything? To not be an old-fashioned, holier-than-thou piece of fucking garbage that refuses to change with the times and kiss the feet of an invisible mass murderer in the sky.

What are the longest and shortest romantic relationships you’ve been in? Longest, over 3 1/2 years. I was with Juan less than 24 hours.

Have you ever been obsessive over calories, exercise etc.? I've had multiple phases of this.

What are you listening to? So Rammstein's vocalist has an independent band as well and I sometimes explore his solo work and I'm currently obsessed with "Ich weiß es nicht" and I've just fully accepted chaotic 50-60 y/o men dominate my interests lmfao

How is the weather outside? It's raining. I wish it would just snow already, I really wanna get pretty winter weather pictures this year.

List eight things you like about your best friend. He is extremely patient, absolutely hilarious, a strong listener, the most loyal person I've ever met, very obviously genuinely cares about me, he's a very hard worker that's super dedicated to whatever he sets his mind to, he's very good with animals (especially dogs), and he's super intelligent.

List two favourite colours. Pastel pink and coral.

What was the last book you read? I started Wings of Fire: Talons of Power the other day.

How many best friends do you have? I only feel like I'm being entirely accurate in the sense of what I consider an absolute best friend to be when I answer with Girt, but I know some people will be like "oh he doesn't count" because he's my partner, but whatever. If not him, then it's Mom, buuuut again, I know some won't consider that a valid answer. My closest friends that are just friends and not blood or anything are both Tez and Mazzy, though.

Are you holding back doing or saying anything? Yeah, I guess. Nothing very important, though.

Have you ever been used? Oh I'm sure I have been, in one way or another.

Are you pregnant? Zero chance of that.

Do you want to be? BIG no on that one.

Can you describe your entire family in three words? Complicated, strained, distant.

What’s the first thing you see when you look out your window? Our road and houses across the street.

What’s your favorite fair food? I actually don't know; I've been to so very few and tried barely any food. I do know that I actually don't like funnel cake, though.

What’s something you always wear, even in the shower? Piercings.

How did you feel after your first kiss? There was a whole lotta butterflies and shyness but also tons of happiness and peace and the feeling that I was in the midst of something wonderful. Girl if you only knew lmfao

What’s your state's or country’s minimum wage? $7.25/h 🙃 proven to be properly unlivable here

What was the best thing you ever did for your parents, legal guardians or parental figures? hell if I know honestly

Have you ever worn a suit? No but women in suits is FUCKING HOT

Would you rather make 2D or 3D art? 2D. Sculptures and stuff aren't my thing, at least when it comes to ME making them. I love looking at that kinda stuff, though.

Do you eat candy corn? No, I hate that shit.

Were either of your parents baptized? I can absolutely, positively guarantee my mom was, but idk about Dad.

The last concert that you were at, was there a mosh pit? Nah.

Do you think pepperoni would be good on a meatball sub? I don't even like meatball subs to begin with because the bread gets so damp and gross.

Has anyone killed one of your pets before? Well, yes. Growing up we had cats get hit by cars a lot. I've told the story of our then-neighbors' rottweilers getting loose and going on a cat massacre once too, but I honestly don't blame the owners and haven't for a very, very long time. Those dogs were smart and it wasn't like them getting loose was even a remotely common thing. It was entirely an accident.

Does your bathroom have a theme to it? Neither one does.

Are any rooms in your house themed? Not really. I WANT to redesign mine with more of a nature-y vibe, though.

Is there someone that you have lost respect for recently? My grandmother, who I ALREADY didn't respect at all.

Have you ever edited an article on Wikipedia? No.

Do you remember your first love? I am not AT ALL exaggerating the times I say that I very sincerely doubt that I would forget Jason even if I developed dementia/Alzheimer's. Some patients do remember specific details of their lives and I am fully convinced that would be me with him.

What is something you can never give up (that's not love or family)? The Internet, lmao.

Have you ever waited in line overnight for something? No.

Is there such a thing as being too rich or too poor? Obviously?????????????

Go back to your freshman year; what kind of music were you listening to? Same stuff as now, various forms of metal, but I would also listen to more scream-y stuff.

Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No.

What is something you think about yourself that nobody agrees with? That I'm incredibly dumb. People who know me, especially family, always love to point out I'm "super smart" (when it comes to book-type knowledge, everyone knows I have terrible common sense) but I very much feel like they just think about how I performed up through high school. I don't know WHAT happened once I started college (my one and only guess is that my trauma genuinely affected my memory and even how I register information), but it did a fantastic job at making me feel appallingly stupid and unable to process new information. It's probably always going to upset me, how much I changed in terms of learning.

What about something people think of you that you don’t agree with? That I handle kids quite well. I always feel like I'm doing or saying the total wrong thing and acting awkwardly, and even seeing evidence that kids DO seem to gravitate towards me doesn't make me believe that I'm actually good with them.

What is your favourite type of video game? Horror, esp psychological-type horror.

Do you sometimes pretend to do things you dont know how to do? No, that sounds like a bad idea.

If you have tattoos, which one that you have was the most painful? I want to say my inner forearm, I think.

Do you have any pets who will bite anyone else out there, besides you? No.

If you died right now, what would be your biggest regret? Never feeling like I found my place in the world.

What do you believe was your greatest achievement? Healing from the breakup. I know it sounds super little and unimpressive, but when you know how desperately I just always wanted to be dead and the psychological damage it all did that I STILL deal with, you'd realize it was a feat of fucking strength and self-love that I frequently forget about.

What have you learned from pain? To cherish every single moment without it and to also have empathy and understanding.

What was the last text or IM you sent? Girt was asking about moving our hangout day to Wednesday, which I told him was fine; he just feels like having the weekend to himself. I wanted to see him, but I'm not actually upset at all; he's allowed to have time with himself, even if I WASN'T okay with it.

What is the simplest way to make you happy? Talk to me about meerkats or Rammstein or Silent Hill and stuff lmao.

When was the last time you had deja vu? Actually when I was writing an RP post yesterday, it was really weird.

Is there something you are always interested in? The main topic of deep interest that has prevailed the longest is meerkats.

Do you like buffet restaurants? I really don't, I find the concept super gross with how people are.

When was the last time you felt like you were starving? Full realism, I've never felt like I was sincerely, truly starving because I never factually have been. Yeah, I exaggerate and sometimes am like "I'm starving" when I mean I'm super hungry, but I'm fully aware I'm actually not. I consider myself an incredibly lucky person to have constant access to some kind of food.

Would you ever dye your hair all the colors of the rainbow? If my hair would actually take it and it wasn't absurdly expensive, fuck yeah.

What has made you laugh lately? I've been watching a lot of Game Grumps lately, and they do very, very easily. More than any other YouTube channel on a consistent basis.

If a Miley Cyrus song was playing in a store, would you leave? Oh, grow up. I'm not leaving a store I went to to get something I need or even just want just because a fucking song comes on.

Have you ever actually discovered someone watching you? No, thank the fucking lord. That would REALLY creep me out.

What would you do if you found an inappropriate picture of yourself online? I would be EXTREMELY freaked out because I've never taken an inappropriate picture of myself and I've never allowed anyone else to either, so someone would've done it in secrecy. I'd also be absolutely fucking humiliated because I hate my body. I'd absolutely try to figure out who got the picture and try my absolute damnedest to get it taken off the Internet.

What do you think of Facebook? I use it to keep tabs on people I care about and also see memes haha, plus other cool or motivational/inspiring stuff, but it DOES sometimes negatively affect me in the sense it makes me feel insanely behind in life.

Would you rather have Junior Mints or Reese’s? Reese's.

Have you ever taken a Polaroid? I'm quite sure I haven't, though I would actually really like to have a Polaroid-type camera. I can absolutely see the aesthetic appeal of them.

When was the last time you felt pressured? This past Friday Emerson wanted to play catch with one of her toys for a little bit, and though I didn't really want to because I was reading a book, I obviously did.

How many times have you broken a bone? Once.

Do you have a preference of chocolate? Milk chocolate with either a peanut butter or caramel interior.

Do you have a favorite author? Nah I really don't.

Do you own anything “designer?” Definitely not. I ain't got that kind of money.

If you had to draw your life, what would it mainly include? A lot of mental illness imagery and also Jason. Mom.

What is your favourite dinosaur? It's always been the spinosaurus. I also really love velociraptors, but their understood anatomy has changed a whole lot. I've found I prefer less feathery dinos. The Jurassic Park iteration of them are more my style.

Have you ever made bread? I personally haven't.

Would your childhood self be disappointed? UH, YEAH.

Has anything ever fallen asleep on you? Yeah, pets, partners, kids. Maybe sisters at some point.

What do you feel about surgeries? Do they worry you? Well, they worry me NOW because I learned sleep apnea (and mine is apparently severe) is a dangerous complicator in surgeries. I've also wondered if my nightmares could be an issue... I also have a considerable fear of anesthesia awareness, but it's not absolutely overwhelming.

Do you have a Tumblr? My Tumblr was (I'm assuming) accidentally terminated over a month ago and I am STILL waiting to hear back from them, even after sending a second report. 🙃 I've been tempted to go back to my old email account (that one was ALSO randomly terminated after a theme edit but was restored), but I really don't want to so am trying to wait. I just don't at all see what in the world I could've done wrong to be fairly banned.

Would you ever consider moving to another country? Realistically I don't think I will. My mom has basically begged us girls to stay together and prioritize our family bond because our extended family ALL live out of state, usually many states away.

Would you like to live in a realm where the zombie apocalypse is possible? How do we know the one we live in now isn't? Zombifying parasites already exist in simpler, smaller organisms; who knows what the future holds. I do remember reading a scientific article about it for some reason just not seeming possible for humans with our current biological knowledge, but. Who knows. BUT ANYWAY, I would DEFINITELY prefer it to not be possible. I will never understand the absolute maniacs that basically fetishize that universe, like bitch you will die within the first couple days like basically everyone else, stop pretending you're a godly badass in the face of a horde of dead humans that are deadset on eating you and accept you're gonna shit your pants like everyone else lmao.