#no thoughts head emptyy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riosgoodgirll · 4 years ago

Text

i got tagged by the lovely @ama-ssiempre to do some oversharing, which i love to do so let’s goooo!

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

name/nickname: brittany, don’t really have a nickname but sometimes my mum or friends will just shorten my name so britt/brits

gender: woman/girl/female (not a man! 😁)

star sign: sagittarius (the best fire sign yep 😙)

height: every time i get measured i feel like it’s different even though i haven’t grown in like 5 years but i believe i’m between 5’0 and a half and 5’1, which is like 155cm (very short!)

time: 23:45 😭

birthday: december 11th (which was like a week ago)

favourite bands: i don’t really listen to any right now but i used to obsessed with the 1975 and i still have a few of their songs on repeat!

favourite solo artists: i feel like i have so many! aya nakamura, partynextdoor, kcamp, victoria monét, nicki minaj, tinashe and so many more

song stuck in my head: champagne problems by taylor swift, the bridge is pure excellence! “she would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head!!!” 😁��🏾

last movie: jordan peele’s us! it’s gonna be a movie i have on repeat for a while because i’m doing one of my essays for uni on it 🤧

last show: currently rewatching arrow! well forcing myself to get through it because it can get boring sometimes 🤣

when did I create this blog: this is a side blog but i made it in like 2019 i believe, right after season one of good girls or the beginning of season 2

what I post: i feel like all i do is reblog good girls stuff and the occasional gifs for other shows! ooooh some megan thee stallion, sometimes some other stuff and quotes, etc 😭

last thing googled: zara - because i want to browse the sale they have on at the moment 😹

other blogs: i have a main blog where i just post aesthetic stuff and nba content 😭 also i have another sideblog where i post football content (so soccer for the americans 🤣) - fun fact: i enjoy watching sports!!!

do I get asks: i do get some when i reblog those ask game things

why I chose my url: because rio + good girls = this url & there’s just something so 😙 about the phrase skjdskjdskjds

following: 285 people - but it’s like split across 3 blogs

followers: 825 which is so funny because i remember i abandoned this blog, at one point i considered deleting 😭 and then i came back to loads of followers and i was so shocked because idk what i offer here 🤣🤣🤣

average hours of sleep: depends but can range between 5 and 10 - sometimes i get up at terrible hours because i’ve gone to bed late 😭 last night/this morning i fell asleep at like 6am and woke up when it was dark so 🤣

lucky number: 3 and 5

instruments: used to play the flute as a kid but stopped when i was like 13

what am I wearing: a t-shirt that says veggie burger and some pyjama pants 😁

dream job: none ❤️

dream trip: so many! brazil, italy, thailand, a lot of caribbean countries, greece and so many more

favourite food: chips/fries - if i could, i would eat them every single day

nationality: jamaican

favourite song: right now it’s between champagne problems by taylor swift & move me by wet & sleepless nights by terrace martin

last book read: i kinda read a lot for my degree (well i try to) but i don’t even remember so currently i’m reading we need new names by noviolet bulawayo for one of my essays

top three fictional universes I’d like to live in:

• the vampire diaries world because their vampires are my fave - think i’d like to be a hybrid!

• when i was younger i loved scooby doo so that world because they were always travelling and eating some good food 😭

• i can’t even think of a third but i used to really enjoy those hunger games/divergent movies so maybe that world just because i was obsessed with the plots and the action and stuff 😭 i would even say twilight just because that world is so funny and chaotic to me

tagging: i’m going off of my recent notifs so @ashesto-dust @no-thoughts-headd-emptyy @piecesofres @thekracken @zarrypoet @onlyformissmarks @magneticflower and anyone else whose reading this & wants to 💖

don’t feel obliged to though!!!

#this literally took me almost an hour OMG 🤣🤣🤣#tag game

13 notes · View notes

slbp-holiday-exchange-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

A Kiyohiro fic for @regretful-otome, from @yoolee

Side Ponytail Relationship Success Support Squad – the ship no one asked for, I’m sorry!

Watercolor background by Balasoiu. Reference one & two

Officially, Kiyohiro oughtn’t approve.

Emotional attachments are liabilities in the shared business of Iga villagers, and he has seen their cost paid enough times to understand why they are considered so; it’s much easier to clean blood off your blade that never belonged to someone once held dear.

But there’s something nice about seeing them form, and blossom.

The softness in the Lord Assassin’s smile looks like it belongs there. Like its shape has settled and sealed some shattered foundation and strengthened it.

Put more simply—Saizo looks happy.

As for Kiyohiro himself, who is not overly prone to strong emotions one way or another, he finds that watching sunlight creep into a soul sworn to shadows makes him happy as well. He keeps this to himself—but he does his best to protect it. He delivers gifts from Oyuki (though often while wondering if doing so is protection or problem-causing), redirects the wayward Hotaru, puts forth his own blade to distract the mad Hojo ninja intent on Saizo’s attention, such that his odd ardour won’t disrupt few stolen moments of alone time the Lord Assassin takes with his little lady. It is an offering of admiration if not precisely friendship. He supposes that suits best—he is neither guardian, nor protector. He is not even quite shadow, for if he were, he would not interfere. He is an ally of sorts. An admirer.

He notices—because it is his job to notice things—the pretty maid in pink lingering in the hallway. Ostensibly, she is scrubbing the floors, but to his trained eye they are already sparkling and so the activity is suspect. From his place tucked in the dim, Kiyohiro grips his weapon, and waits, weary of another interruption to thwart, but her purpose becomes clear as soon as the younger Sanada lord approaches. She flings her arms around Yukimura’s to prevent his entry into the closed room, and he stops short, free arm frozen from where it would knock.

The little lord, as Saizo calls him, predictably, sputters, and stammers, a shocked caricature of himself in scarlet from head to toes. The pretty maid shushes him and shoos him away from his course with a sweet smile and smooth words. His mission forgotten, the samurai returns from whence he came, face still burning in a blush and inarticulate mumbles stuttering under his breath. The maid watches him go, and Kiyohiro watches her. Her fingers are steepled, her hair pulled to the side, and her cheeks are bright with her pleasure. She gives a wordless thumbs up to the closed door. Kiyohiro does not detect a smile has taken up residence on his own lips in silent accord.

The couple has another ally, it would seem.

(He makes a note to learn her name.)

He does.

He also learns that she meddles.

He can only suppose that’s what she’s up to now, as she lies in wait in the garden, visible to him from his perch on the roof where he waits for Saizo’s return. He knows she is waiting, because he’s seen her and the woman in blue with her take the wash down before, and this particular instance seems to be requiring twice the usual amount of time. That, and she keeps checking less than subtly over her shoulder with impatience in her lips. Kiyohiro raises an eyebrow at Kansuke, who has silently joined him, unnoticed by the pair of maids working on their tasks below. The other ninja’s expression remains blank, focused but unconcerned. He gives a faint shake of his head; the reason for their apparent languor is unknown to him as well.

They need not talk, but Kiyohiro supposes once more that it is a sort of kinship, in that at least they are not fighting, as so often their kind must when encountering one another. He lets himself relax, but notes Kansuke does not. The other man is not tense, but he is still as he always is, watching and waiting as the maid does. Kiyohiro thinks again of sunlight and reflects that perhaps Kansuke’s is a different sort than that which Saizo has found.

He’s amused for a moment, that they are all waiting. He, for Saizo, Kansuke, for his lord, and the maid—for what?

But it becomes clear when Shingen strolls down the halls, laugh hearty and full, and Umeko calls for him sweetly. Kansuke, who was at Kiyohiro’s side one second, is not the next. His absence is as whisperingly unremarkable as his arrival, and Kiyohiro knows better than to look for where he has gone. Instead he watches, as Shingen obligingly approaches, and Umeko artfully—or perhaps, artlessly, trips on her sandal, careening into her blue-clad partner, who is then flung forward towards and into her lord…

Kiyohiro supposes he should sigh, but there are advantages to being an unseen observer and so he smiles instead, a faint press upwards of his lips. In any case, Shingen not only has an armful of blue-dressed and blushing maid with stars in her eyes, he has Kansuke, and that makes such meddling not Kiyohiro’s concern.

He spares a glance for the unrepentant Umeko, regarding the Tiger of Kai and her friend with as focused and bright a gaze as a child receiving a treasure.

He shakes his head and hears the crows calling. When he turns to seek them, and so the one who has called him here in the first place, he catches a stretch of sunlight creeping up clasped arms in red and blue, and smiles.

Because he learned it, when he hears Umeko in Owari, he pays more attention than he might have otherwise. From his position behind the gold-robed Lord Ieyasu, he watches, and there is no one to watch him and so detect the flash of a concerned crease that appears between his brows.

Sure enough. There she is, expression sheepish but no less bright, far from the lands of Kai, and in the service of the Demon King.

He does not serve Nobunaga, so he does not offer up his knowledge.

But he watches.

She is still there, still in pink, still with her hair to the side and her thoughts clear on her face. He notes other changes with her arrival, most notably in the lord she serves, whose eyes follow what appears to be a lad, but to Kiyohiro’s observant skill is clearly a woman. His business is secrets, and the risks they may carry. So he watches, as the would-be lad slips into the kitchens, and emerges with a jar of sugar candies, Umeko at her side, urging and encouraging some romantic purpose.

He hears her confess in the sheepish, girlish whisper of confidences shared between friends and not meant for eavesdropping shadows, that she was dismissed for not getting her work done. Since she is, at the particular moment Kiyohiro is observing, making the tea too hot and too full such that when it inevitably spills its victim will need nursing, he is not terribly surprised to learn this.

He, who is wired to work and work well, cannot quite reconcile her methods. But perhaps because there is something about the mighty being nudged by the modest, or simply because he appreciates her for pursuing what he will not, and the fact no word of what she knows from her prior service spills from her lips to endanger those he admires, when the sunlight reflects off of the tray of too-hot tea pressed into the not-a-lad’s hands, he smiles.

The way to a samurai’s heart is, apparently, through his stomach. Kiyohiro files that away with quiet consideration as he watches Ieyasu—like Saizo and Nobunaga before him—fall in love with the daughter of a cook. For his own reference, he makes a note of the chef’s home town. He wonders if perhaps there is some new ninja clan forming in Kyoto, one that focuses on foods instead of more immediate seductions, but try as he might, can find no wile in the lady’s affections for the caustic lord they both serve.

But then, if she is a very good ninja, he wouldn’t, would he?

Worried, he holds himself quiet in the dark, and crafts a message in his thoughts to be later delivered to Oyuki, who would know such things and hear him out. The silver-haired kunoichi of Iga may seem flighty and unfocused, but even in his mind he gives her name the respect she has earned. After all, she always comes home, her missions complete and her skin unkissed by wounds. Her wiles are perhaps more… exuberant than others in the village, but Kiyohiro can appreciate the effectiveness of her methodology. Surely she knows of stomachs, and as this now involves his employer, it will not do to be caught unawares.

Having decided on a next action, he feels something like relief, until he notes that here in Ieyasu’s castle, just past the quiet space near his Lord Ieyasu’s rooms where he holds himself in silence, there is a maid in pink scrubbing the floors. She looks familiar. As he is wondering just where from, footsteps and squabbling echo down the corridor.

“But Lord Ieyasu—”

“Just be quiet and come along, kitchen wench!”

Kiyohiro winces, but the maid’s head shoots up with a delighted grin, and she overturns her bucket of water, grabs her rag and the the now emptyied vessel and scampers with great haste out of sight.

He knows her name, and in surprise, it flows from him in a whisper, and she turns, shrieking at his (what to her must seem) sudden appearance, but he grips her arm as gently as he is able in his frustration, and pulls her into his shadows.

What is she planning? What has she done?

“Your lord could have gotten hurt.” His voice is calm—it always is—but even he can hear the firm disapproval in its tone. The maid’s quick, darting glance to the side and muffled twist of her lips tells him she doesn’t really see that as a problem (her defiance baffles him, he who serves without question and eyes downcast).

“Weeeell,” she hedges, drawing out the vowel in the way of someone who doesn’t know where they’re going next. Surprised at himself, he feels his fingers tighten on her shoulders, and her pretty, dark eyes fly back to his. (He doesn’t notice how happy he is for that, but later, when he settles onto the rooftop to guard his liege’s door for the night, the stars remind him of that startled, brightly defiant stare). His voice is soft, but does not waver. “Or the cook,” He does not know her name, they all seem the same to him, so long as they are not a threat, “I believe you did not consider that?” That gets guilt, which flashes briefly before settling back into determination, and her chin juts up even as a slim finger bangs into his chest, poking just to the side of his heart, not far off.

In an insistent whisper, she hisses, “They won’t get hurt, they—”

“YAAACK!”

Splat.

Though he’s done nothing wrong—except, perhaps, fail to warn his employer of a threat—Kiyohiro tenses, and Umeko eeps in his arms, but wastes no time leaning her head back. The ninja is less eager to look, but she turns back to him, full smile coquettish and radiant with triumph. She giggles, and the finger that had been so willing to poke him now beckons. Uneasy, Kiyohiro obliges, peering for himself around the corner.

Because he knows what has happened—and who is to blame—Kiyohiro does not misunderstand the scene before him, but it would be easy to do. The little cook hovers inches from the ground, disheveled and wide-eyed, locked in her lord’s arms. Her alarmed hands have tangled in his golden robes, his are wrapped around her waist and up her back, their grip white and tight in the fabric, a picture of passion and shock and…

Kiyohiro has no desire to deal with having been caught witnessing such a scene and hurriedly pulls Umeko away and out of sight. The hallway only leads to their lord’s room, so deciding on the most expedient option to get them out of there, he scoops her up and darts up instead and out through the rafters.

Her gasp of shock is ignored, as are her arms, flung quick and tight around his shoulders. In the courtyard he sets her down and finds himself relieved that her cheeks are not pale in fright from his handling. She stares at him for a moment, and he dips his head, ready to return to his task when she asks, “Have I seen you before?”

It surprises him, that she’s asked. “Not if I have done my job well.”

She grins. “Of course, the…” She waves a hand at the rafters, and pink brightens the spots above her smile. “And you always do your job well, I bet.” He doesn’t have to say yes, she’s already nodding on his behalf. He lets her and stays quiet. “I don’t,” She confesses with a mischievous grimace, and out of courtesy he refrains from nodding on her behalf, “I mean to! I do! And I can but sometimes…” She trails off.

Kiyohiro thinks of slippery floors and close embraces, of fluttering sheets of laundry and trays of tea. “Sometimes circumstances are extenuating.”

“Yes.” Umeko looks relieved he understands. Which he doesn’t, exactly, but he has some sense of it. He bows, assuming their exchange is complete, and turns to leave when she seizes his hands. Hers are rough as his are, from a different sort of work than wielding swords and climbing buildings. “I HAVE seen you! You threw Lord Saizo’s crazy ninja down the well!”

He blinks owlishly at her. She is leaning in with delight, furtively glancing around, before whispering “At the castle of the Tak—” His hand is quick to cover her mouth in warning, well aware of how even whispers travel to the right, or wrong, ears. It is not so bad for him to have been there, but she is not—and he is certain of this now, for reasons he worrisomely cannot root in logic—a ninja, and would be called a spy and quartered. To his surprise, he realizes he would regret such a thing coming to pass.

Perhaps he is getting used to seeing pink wherever his role takes him.

She mumbles into his hand, breath warm and undeterred, “On Lord Saizo’s birthday!” Since she will talk anyway, despite the look he levels at her to warn her to silence, he drops his hand. “I know it must have been you because I thought at the time how we have the same style!” At his faint expression of confusion, her hands part, one going to her own ponytail and one to his. He catches the scent of something floral as she runs her fingers through their strands and thinks she is a rather strange person. It isn’t a bad thing, he supposes. “That was very sweet of you, to fight him off so they could have time together.” Uncomfortable with her praise, his eyes drop to the side, and he almost misses her next words. “You ship them too, don’t you?”

His brows furrow. The Takeda are more inclined to cavalry than armadas, and he wonders suddenly if she is a spy and knows something he does not, “Ship… them?”

“Yes! Together! Lord Saizo and his little lady! Oh they were just so adorable, don’t you think?” She’s sparkling again, Kiyohiro thinks, and it reminds him of sunlight. He tries to remember that he’s always been fonder of the rain, and wondesr what Lord Saizo would make of being deemed adorable. “Just like Lord Ieyasu and his sweetheart.” There, again. Sweetheart and Lord Ieyasu are hard to put together in the same sentence, but Kiyohiro cannot deny a soft spot for the capricious man. Though he can lie, as doing so is often critical to his survival, he prefers not to if it is unnecessary, and so once again he says nothing and once again Umeko does not seem to mind. “Oh it won’t be long now with them, it just won’t! I wonder if perhaps there is some way to speed it along.”

“Speed what along?” Kiyohiro murmurs, unaware he has asked out loud. Umeko looks at him like he is silly, and that seems very unfair to him. He is not the one sparkling.

“Their relationship of course. Their love story!” He puts it together then, ship and shipping with relationship, and considers again that she is a bit strange, but Umeko is still talking. “Isn’t love beautiful?” Her eyes have gone starry, the question ending in a sigh. The honest answer, that he wouldn’t really know, rises in his throat, but her gentle, roughened hands are clasped once more in dreamy appreciation, misty in her smile, and he says nothing. “They just need a bit more of nudge.” The misty dreaminess abruptly skews towards something more purposeful, and a warning bell chime in his mind, “I wonder…”

“He is your employer.” Kiyohiro murmurs, asking at last what he has longed to know. How can she so flippantly insert herself into his affairs? It is reckless, and so against what he has been taught and how he is that he cannot help that it sounds like an admonishment.

“Of course. Don’t you want him to be happy?” He did, but that fell into the category of not relevant to doing his job well, so he didn’t act on it. “And I’m sure he’s marginally more pleasant to work for when he is.” He frowns at her, because that is even less relevant, but she flaps a dismissive hand. “Oh don’t give me that scary face! You aren’t half as scary as Milord Ieyasu is.” Kiyohiro isn’t certain if he should be amused or insulted. He settles for neutral—it’s never bad to be underestimated. “Oooh you have a sword, don’t you?” She’s only just now seen? Kiyohiro worries for her sense of self-preservation. “Perhaps you could kidnap her, or prete—”

“No.” The gentleness of his speech does not make the statement any less iron-clad. That is a line he will not cross, however appreciative he is of this determined woman’s fearless efforts in pursuit of… ships. He believes he’s gotten that right.

She puffs her cheeks out in a pout, but moves on quickly enough, tapping her chin in thought. “Well, I suppose I could ask the fellow in the market who’s sweet on me to do it…”

He feels a flash of unexpected irritation, and tells himself it is because he does not wish for harm or fear to come to anyone, and does not appreciate her disregard of the risk. It is uncharacteristic of him to interfere. He should leave her to her machinations, return to the shadows, and be unsurprised when she is dismissed for her efforts. It’s something he knows, but he closes his eyes, and then opens them, and wonders what he is doing. “May I present you an alternative?”

She giggles. “You’re so formal.” So he’s been told, but that’s his nature. She tilts her head in a way that sends her silken bangs into her eyes, considering him. Without realizing, he brushes her bangs aside, and only realizes what he’s done when her cheeks turn pink. He yanks his hands back, and she stumbles in her words, “An alternative?”

He apologizes silently to Ieyasu’s page, but it is better than her staging violence. Surely. Or, not that he wishes to admit it, going to someone else. “The young lord, Ii Toramatsu would… appear to hold affections for the same lady.” He offers this with great reluctance. It’s not as though he has been asked to keep the secret, not as though it bears relevance to anyone except a matchmaking maid in pink. Still, it is enough enough unlike him to freely offer information when his business is secrets to be sold that his brow furrows once more in concern with himself.

Umeko squeals, “Really?” Already regretting speaking, Kiyohiro remains still. “Oh that’s wonderful!”

(Kiyohiro does not see how but it seems unwise to offer that up.)

She doesn’t seem to notice, and continues, “We can certainly use that.”

“We?” Kiyohiro blinks, but her arm is tangled around his, freely and willingly, and the soft pink fabric looks bright against navy armor and red rope. She squeezes cheerfully and drags him down the hallway to some unknown purpose. He could escape, but he doesn’t.

“Well sure! We’re partners now! The Side Ponytail Relationship Success Support Squad!”

Kiyohiro frowns.

Umeko pouts. “Alright, maybe that’s a bit much of a mouthful. We can be—” She pauses in surprise, “I don’t know your name.”

To his surprise, he wants to tell her. Wants to give her the truth. He doesn’t like to lie, unless it is necessary, but it is in this case. So he lies, and tells himself there is no reason to regret it, as she’ll never know. “Kiyohiro.”

She beams, “Kiyohiro! It’s nice to meet you.”

He has to smile at that, thinking of shadows. He murmurs gently, “I’m uncertain you would find any to agree with you.”

She sniffs, “Well poo on them.” His eyebrows raise, but she ignores it, as usual he is beginning to suspect, “I’m Umeko.”

He doesn’t tell her he knows already.

Manners dictate the response, for all that it is also true. “It is nice to meet you, Miss Umeko.”

“Of course it is,” The confidence is tempered with a tinkling laugh that tells him she is aware how silly she is being. Conspiratorially, she tugs on the elbow she’s captured, and he obliges, lowering his ear closer to her height. “Next? I think we should hook up Lord Tadakatsu. He’s such a sweetheart, he just needs the right partner, you know? And we can find them! Or perhaps poor Lord Toramatsu. Yes, yes I think he will need to be next, the poor dear, since his lady love is desperately smitten with someone else. Even if they are both stubborn and won’t admit it yet, silly dears. But we can help! They’ll find love with our help! I’m sure of it!”

He is less so, and uncertain that he should spend his time on such pursuits when he has work for Lord Ieyasu and the village to see to, but she’s smiling, and it is bright as sunshine.

He smiles back.

#2017slbpholidayexchange #regretful-otome #kiyohiro #slbp kiyohiro #samurai love ballad party #slbp #submission

162 notes · View notes

joylessholland · 7 years ago

Text

Princess In Me (Part One)

TOMHOLLANDXREADER (ROYAL)

(1,362 words)

Warnings: I don’t think there are any

A/N: Yes this is basically the movie Princess Diaries but with Tom, we all know we want this so just read it. No, in all seriousness I LOVE the movies to death and I decided to make a little royal romance story like them. We all know the queen is Julie Andrews and we all know the country is Genovia. I even bolded movie quotes!

Masterlist�� Request Christmas Prompts (i haven't gotten any asks for this so I might not do it lol) BIG thanks to moodboard queen @kingquackdaddy !

Swirling your tea in the mugs you stare out the window of the loft. The day was damp and dreary as rain pattered against the roof. Breathing on the glass it fogs, drawing a smile on the glass you here the front door slam closed “Pizza” your mother yells from downstairs. Jumping from the window sill you land with a boom, peeling on a pair of paint-splattered overalls you skip downstairs.

In the kitchen soaking wet was your mother holding a large box in her hands “Hungry” she asked flipping her wet hair. “Starved” you huff opening the box, sausage and pineapple your favorite, kissing your cheek she places two plates down in front of you “How was your day dear,” she asks biting the tip of her first slice “Test in English, aced it. My gym teacher won’t get off my ass though” you snicker plopping down on the couch “How about you?” you ask running your hand through the couch cushions looking for the remote, when you find it you raise it to the TV your mother snatches it from your grasp “I have something to tell you, so just hear me out” sitting up your eyes go wide “Did you crash my… the car?” she smiles “No the car is fine, you’re still getting it when you turn eighteen and you can buy it.” She emphasized the last part “One more week and three hundred more bucks. Baby” you smile. Shaking her head, she pats your leg “Ok serious faces.” Dropping your smile, you make a very serious face “I got a call today and…your cousin was in an accident.” She smiles sadly

“Kenny? Mary? Blake?” saying no to each she puts her finger to your lips “Other side of the family.” She smiles “I don’t…Greyson?” you scrunch your face as she nods slowly “He passed last night” sighing you shake your head “So what do we have to fly to London for the funeral?” you ask biting your pizza “Your cousin Greyson was the only child of your father’s sister. The last heir to the throne [N/O/C].” swallowing your half-chewed pizza you hang your mouth open “This…I. We don’t. What does this mean?” you ask after a long silence “If he was the heir that means…” She starts “I’m really the last heir” your breath quickens and your heart races. Running your hands through your hair you hyperventilate. “I can’t be a princess, you know I, like most kids wanted a car for my birthday, not a COUNTRY” you shout storming to your room.

Could you really be a princess? No, don’t be silly. You could barely keep a job at Walmart, you could never run a whole country. If they thought that you would participate in this little, act. They were crazy. A faint knock on your door ripped you from your thoughts, “What” you murmur from your spot perched on a high window sill. “Someone wants to talk to you,” your mother said holding up her tablet.

“Charlette how do I? oh there you are. Hello [Y/N] darling.” A cheery female voice chimes as your grandmother’s face flashes on screen “Grandma, I suppose you’re going to try to talk me into becoming a princess?” you mumble “Look [Y/N] I know you didn’t want this life, trust me your parents and I never wanted this for you. But with your father and your cousin now going. If you don’t do this [N/O/C] may cease to exist as we know it” “Look” you jump down into a crouched position before standing earning a sigh from you’re the Queen “I’m late for my beauty sleep.” You stare at the screen “I’m late for a meeting with Spain and Portugal” she scoffs “Well, let’s say this [Y/N] and I will fly out to [N/O/C] in two days and we will talk in person, we best not keep Spain and Portugal waiting. Does that work for you all” you mother chimes in. Giving a shrug, you nod slowly, over the screen Queen Clarisse agrees before saying goodbye.” Kissing your cheek your mother leaves the room, flopping onto the bed you groan into the pillow.

As the plane touched down it all felt so real for the first time, what would happen in the next few hours would change your entire life! It was your first time on a private jet and you were fascinated by all the little buttons and knobs. The bodyguard you were assigned hated you by the end of the six-hour flight, it gave you a small once of joy knowing that he was miserable because so were you. A black stretch limo was parked right on the runway, stepping from the plane you are greeted by a man in a black suit “My name is Joseph, I’ll be taking you to the palace.” He says opening the door for you he nods “Princess” as you step in. As the long car barrels down the highway, the partition opens “Her Majesty has requested you wear that to your meeting.” Groaning your mother looks at you from the front seat “Honey please, joe is just trying to do his job” sighing you close the partition and unzip the dress bag.

Grabbing Joe’s gloved hand, you step from the car, your freshly brushed curls blow in the wind, sweeping it out of your face you look down at yourself. The blue dress was beautiful and fit you like a glove, the heels were way too much but made you feel pretty, you weren’t the girl to wear stuff like this but when it came to it you could. The dress, the heels, the limo, and jet were clearly your grandmother trying to impress you. You hated yourself for it but it was kind of working. Stepping through the front doors of the palace made your heart soar, you’d been there once before when you were very young but the memories were just as strong. You remembered running through the gardens with your mother and father, you remembered trying on your grandmother’s clothes in her master closet, you thought back to the time you played hide and seek with the maids in the kitchen. Light graceful heel clicks pull you from your bliss as you meet the kind eyes of your grandmother, “[Y/N] you look, stunning” she says hugging you. “Thanks, grandma” turning to your mother she grabs her hand hugging her tight. “Tea is served” a woman in a purple skirt suit chimed.

“You don’t have to push anymore, I’ve made my decision.” Placing her tea back on the sauces Queens Clarisse grins brightly. The doors swinging open interrupts your reply “I am so sorry, your majesty” a male voice sings from the doorway “Oh, Tom please come here” she says waving the man over, “I want you to meet my granddaughter, [Y/N]” looking up from your tea you lock eyes with a gorgeous young man wearing black trousers and a light blue shirt, fumbling with his words he finally sticks out his hand. “I’m Thomas, prince… of somewhere” he laughs getting lost in your eyes. Standing you carefully grab his hand “[Y/N] princess of [N/O/C]” you coo staring at his sharp jaw, deep chocolate eyes, and thin pink lips. “Does that mean I have an answer” Queen Clarisse chimes pressing her hands together snapping you out of your trance “Yes, I accept your offer” Tom watches as you talk smiling at your words.

As Tom leaves the room you steal one last glance at the same time he looks back at you. Blushing you pick up your tea not noticing the look Your mother and grandma exchange at your actions. “I have one condition.” You say your voice strong “Yes, we can bring the car” you mother laughs making you squeal in joy “Ok so where do we start” “Two days, at a very important dinner party, I’m very glad I can introduce you as the next princess of [N/O/C]” she smiles. Thinking f Tom your heart soars, most girls dreamed of meeting a prince just a minute ago you were face to face with one.

Here are some beautiful KITTENS: @midtownvaledictorian@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@tiemeupspidey @captain-katie-xx@panicatttckiss@champagneholland@seilamigliorcosacheabbiamaivisto@mendes-holland @maggie-starz @natalie-kn@vaeyron@wonderyoung @ging3r-fall@louisnholland@little-weirdo-13@calumminter@sunshiineandmoonliight@tomhstories@rosieeemma @societalreject @bibs-fortuna@antisocialoutcast12@jadabelle @las-civus@oceantostars@tiemeupspidey @dr-tardis-who@hazelgracewatersaugustus@jessica-moon9@sophietanda @yasstoeverygirloutthere@beccaaahh5711@emptyy-skyy@parkeretmj@clairesrainbow@fangirltopic@marveltomjunkie @kingquackdaddy

#tom holland #tom holland fanfictions #tom holland imagine #tom holland royal #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #hollanders #tom holland fandom #peter parker #spider-man: homecoming

140 notes · View notes

thisonesforthecurlsss · 6 years ago

Text

Melanie

Watches as you barely acknowledge me shaking my head and about to say I wasn’t interested in staying was just looking for some help but before I can even speak up you’re already walking away. Sighs and brings my bags to a empty corner dropping them there and approaching you again at the bar “sorry to bother really but... I am not looking to be served I just my phone died and I am lost and have nowhere to stay do you mind if I charge my phone or if you know of any hotels nearby?” i ramble a bit something I often did when I was nervous.

///

Having been back in LA for a few weeks now missing tour a lot as that was my favorite part of being who I was having the chance to play my music night after night. But I couldn’t deny I loved being back here and just having a nice little break. It also allowed me to spend more time with Camille as being on tour and on a relationship was never easy. But we really managed the relationship going quite well and probably my longest yet except for one minor detail.... I forgot our anniversary and didn’t remember till just last night, now I was left to rush and find a gift or plan something. Remembering the little flower shop I’d walk by everyday on my way to the gym quickly making my way there. Notices the flower arrangement through the window loving all the sunflowers there not sure why but that flower always made me smile. Shakes the thought off quickly as I walk in glad it seemed to be pretty emptyI hi sorry I need an urgent flower arrangement, I’ll pay as much as is needed

“Love. You’re ramblin’. It’s annoyin’. “ I scoff as I start wiping down a table. I wince when I feel my head get smacked as Rosa came into the room. “Ignore Harry. He’s unfortunately a grumpy lad. If you need a place to stay, there are a few extra rooms here. Seems like you might have had a bad day, why not sit down and rest for a bit. Harry will get you some tea!” I give her a playful glare, then roll my eyes as I head back to the kitchen. Rosa was the only person, other than my mum that I couldn’t say no too. She’s treated me like a son ever since I’ve come here to London.

I jump slightly as I hear the bells jingle violently as you enter. “Do you want any of these premade ones?” I check my watch for the time, softly sighing when it was almost time to close. When i look up and notice you, you looked very distressed. “But I could make you a new one if you’d like. It’s no biggie.” I walk over to a few of the last ones I had finished. “I have more in the back that don’t have as many sunflowers..” I bite the inside of my cheek as I watch you walk around.

#melanie #submission

0 notes

joylessholland · 7 years ago

Text

Happy Christmas

TOMHOLLANDXREADER

(1,001 word)

Warning: FLUFF, maybe Swearing idk

A/N: Its that time of year, cheesy Christmas imagines. I wanna let you know that it started snow while i was writing this MAGICAL.

Masterlist Requests The song she dances to ENJOY

The fire crackled as outside the snow began to fall even faster, looking through the frosty glass you saw Sam and Harry shovels in hand trying their best to unblock your walk. Grabbing a blanket and opening the front door you shout “Come in boys, wait till the snow stops” they look at you and smile “We can do it” laughing you turn “I’m baking” behind you, shovels are dropped and rushed bootsteps walk to the door “You’re right it can wait” the say at the same time

Christmas music played softly as Paddy snuggled deeper into you as you told stories of your childhood Christmases. When you got to the one where your father fell off the roof trying to shovel off the snow the twins chimed “I’m not getting on the roof” laughing. Last year you were all alone in this big old house, but this year was different your boyfriend’s family had become like yours. Tom couldn’t be there which made you sad but at least you weren’t all alone, he paid for one of those tropical Christmas cruises for his mom and dad, so his brothers would be staying with you.

“Oh, I love this song” getting up you turn the volume up you start to sing and dance with Tessa. Half way through the chorus you hit a really good high note and looking over you see the twins filming you, Picking Tessa you spin her around playing for the camera. When the final note sounds you blow a kiss to the camera as the boys start clapping and cheering. “I am so sending that to Tom” Harry snickers “You little shit” you gasp rushing at him trying to snatch his phone, but he climbs over the couch to get away. Laughing Sam starts running interference for his brother blocking your way. “Done” Harry giggles dropping his phone “Grab me one of those shovels, I’m digging both your graves.” You laugh flopping onto the couch.

“That was… really good” Sam huffs dropping his fork “You ain’t seen nothing yet” laughing Harry collects the plates to wash when your phone rings. Seeing Toms face on the screen you walk to another room before answering, fixing your hair a bit first.

“Hello, love” his voice fills your ears and warms your heart. “Hey, baby. How are you?”

“Well, after watching that little video Harry sent, I’m amazing. How are you?” you frown “Oh, Darling please don’t be sad.” “Why do people say that, now I’m even more sad” you giggle as a tear rolls down your cheek wiping away you try to get yourself together. Tom already felt horrible about not being there and you crying would only make it worse “I’m sorry, it’s just I wish you were here” “I wish I was there too, you know, that right?” nodding you talk to him for what seems like hours until someone off screen calls him “I have to go, love” “Okay, I miss you.” with a smile he ends the calls.

Wrapping yourself in your robe you pad into the kitchen, yawning you put the kettle on and resume your Christmas playlist Baby Please Come Home by Mariah Carey is playing when you open the hall closet. Grabbing the huge bag of gifts from behind the ironing board “And children this…this is what we call, irony” you mumble to yourself, Placing the gifts under the tree.

Stockings stuffed, breakfast cooking, dinner prep started, and Tessa in a Christmas sweater you were done all done and not a moment too soon. A yawn echoed through the house as little feet ran down the stairs “Happy Christmas [Y/N]” Paddy chimed running up to you giving you a hug “Morning Pad, Breakfast is about ready. Why don’t you go pick out present to open before breakfast.” You smile flipping a pancake. From the corner of your eye you spot the twins yawning and rubbing their eyes “Happy Christmas, boys” plating the food you put them on the table “Pads, breakfast then gifts” the boys whispered something to each other than looked at you and laughed “evil” you glare at them

“Thanks [Y/N]” Harry gasped holding the camera lenses you got him for Christmas, Paddy was peeling the wrapper off the video game you got him, while Sam set up his new iPad. Pulling Toms sweater over your head you walk to the living room to find all the boys whispering and giggling, “I need help in the kitchen, any volunteers?” you ask. Paddy jumps up and joins you to begin making dinner.

“[Y/N] come here a second” Harry yelled from the other room shoving the pan into the oven you wipe your hands on your robe. “What is it?” grabbing your hand he guides you to the sofa “You got us all presents, so we thought we could all pitch in and get you something. Now it’s not much but;” “Oh, boy you didn’t need to do that” smiling they tell you to close your eyes “If you put any sort of animal on me, I will…” the shush you laughing

You hear shuffling then footsteps, and when a pair of hands grab your shoulders and place a gentle kiss on your forehead you open your eye. Standing before you was Tom, cheeks and nose red from the cold with a gift ribbon stuck to the front of his shirt. Letting out a sound that was a mixture of gasp, sod, and laugh you jump and wrap your arms around his neck “W-w-what” is all you can muster before you start crying. Picking you up he spins you around just as All I Want For Christmas is You begins to play, placing you on the ground he wipes your tears “Happy Christmas, love” he whispers pressing his lips against yours.

Looking to the boys you stride over, placing a kiss on Sam’s then Harry’s cheek they blush, then you pinch Paddy’s cheek and kiss his head “a Happy Christmas, indeed”

THX 4 READING

Here are some beautiful KITTENS: @midtownvaledictorian@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@tiemeupspidey @captain-katie-xx@panicatttckiss@champagneholland@seilamigliorcosacheabbiamaivisto@mendes-holland @maggie-starz @natalie-kn@vaeyron@wonderyoung @ging3r-fall@louisnholland@little-weirdo-13@calumminter@sunshiineandmoonliight@tomhstories@rosieeemma @societalreject @bibs-fortuna@antisocialoutcast12 @jadabelle @las-civus@oceantostars@tiemeupspidey @dr-tardis-who@hazelgracewatersaugustus@jessica-moon9@sophietanda @yasstoeverygirloutthere@beccaaahh5711@emptyy-skyy@parkeretmj @clairesrainbow

#tom holland #tom holland fanfictions #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland christmas #christmas #christmas fanfic

102 notes · View notes

joylessholland · 7 years ago

Text

Two Blues

TOMHOLLANDXREADER

(1,086 words) ONESHOT!

Warnings: Use of drugs and alcohol, Swearing, bad wring lol

A/N: I’ve been really depressed lately so I've been going back and forth, thinking nothing i write is good so it takes so long for me to write and it is really frustration so i’m taking a little break for a few days

Masterlist Requests “Here a song i like”

“Two blues and a red” you say throwing a twenty at the man “It’s thirty for this whole thing” he says holding out a small baggie of pills “You do value packs now” you giggle snatching the bag and tossing him another bill “Can’t I give my girl [Y/N] a good deal” he chuckles pocketing the money “I’m taken Sweetcakes”

Sitting back against a wall you sift through the bag of narcotics, “No reds” you mutter popping two blues and a yellow washing them down with a swig from your beer. Closing your eyes, you push off the wall and walk to the club.

Lights flashing, music pumping, buzz fresh you find yourself dancing with a really handsy dude, but in your current state nothing was on your mind but fun. That is until he grabs your boob and licks your cheek, turning you push the man back stumbling a bit you push into the crowd. Waving the bartender over you order two shots of vodka, slamming them back you send a wink his way before returning to the dance floor.

Taking a long hit you flick the joint away and cross your arms. It was morning and you were almost home, you’d stayed out a little longer than expected but damn did you have a great time. You crowning achievement of the evening was that you didn’t die, you think as you enter the safety of the studio. Pulling out the bag of pills and fishing through it you pull up a small red circle “Yes” you quietly say to yourself popping it and a few other random pills.

Rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, your phone dings grabbing it you see that you’ve slept well into the day and now it’s about dinner time. “Dinner, oh shit” you gasp rolling out of bed. Tossing through your closet you find a packet of small crystals falls from a stray piece of clothing. Don’t, don’t do it, don’t be fucking stupid the thoughts stir in your head but are soon expelled when you pick up your phone and shoot your boyfriend a text

Me: Hey babe, I’m not feeling that great can we cancel dinner tonight I don’t feel like going out

It doesn’t take him long to respond

Tom: Sure, I hope you feel better. I can come over if you want.

Me: No

Me: I mean no that’s fine I don’t wanna trouble you. See you tomorrow

Turning your phone off you pick up the packet of smack, a Cheshire grin spread across you lips.

Someone was knocking on the door, “Get the hint” you mumble from your spot curled up on the floor. A surprised laugh escapes your mouth when you see Tom standing in the doorway keys in one hand and a brown bag in the other. “When did I give you a key” you say sitting up slowly rubbing your hands down your face “Hey how are you…” he looks at the needle on your desk “[Y/N] are you?” he starts his tone firm “High as a mother-fucking kite baby” you laugh standing “What the hell, you were sober” putting a finger to his lips you shush him very loudly “No talking” you say before you press your lips to his, fiddling with his belt. “No, [Y/N] stop.” He says pinning your arms to your sides. “What you don’t want me? Fine, then get the hell out” turning you flop onto the bed “I’m going to bed”

Were you on the floor? How did you get here? Sitting up you see Tom sitting on your bed flipping through his phone “What happened?” you ask your voice groggy. Tom looks at you sorrow ever present in his eyes “You shot up, that’s what fucking happened” he snaps getting out of bed “What, babe I told you I’m sobered up” standing the world starts spinning “Don’t even try I came by last night, found you there and I quote, high as a fucking kite” grabbing his jacket he makes for the door cutting him off you put your hands to his chest “Please don’t go, so I slipped up. It was a mistake, it’ll never happen again.” Your heart broke as a tear rolls down his cheek “Look me in the eye and say those are the first drugs you’ve taken since you got clean” when you don’t answer he pushes past you and opens the door “Please, Tom don’t do this let me explain” you grab his arm he shuts the door.

“Explain what? That you’ve been lying to me for weeks, months even. Ok, fine explain it.” You could hear it you could hear your walls crumbling down, one by one they came down as you told him of the late nights, the drinking, the pills. “How many guys have you been with?” the question echoed in your mind and you let out a small whimper “None, I’d never do that to you. You have to believe me”

“I-I need some time” he says head hung low “Tom, you have to believe me, I-I love you” your cries bounce of his skin as he opens the door “I can’t be with you right now” and with that he shut the door and leaves you alone. Falling to your knees you weep.

For the past three days your calls have been unanswered, you haven’t got one text or email. Sitting in Tom shirt you stare at the bag of pill you were bought earlier this week, your mind raced your heart skipped beats and every part of your body ached. “Your such an idiot” standing you walk you the bathroom and dump the pills in the toilet bowl. In the kitchen you pour out every beer you own even the ones hidden behind the milk, whilst scrubbing the sink to get the smell out your phone rings throwing the sponge you vault over the box of empty bottles tripping you pull your phone down with you “Hello” you say rubbing your knee “Hey, [Y/N] it…” of course you know who it is you’ve been waiting for this call “Tom, hi. What’s going on” “Are you asking what’s going on with me or what’s going on with us”

“Us” you say shyly “I’ve been thinking a lot and…” he pauses and the stress gets to you “Don’t leave me hanging you dick” you joke earning a small laugh from the other end of the line “I wanna see you, tomorrow, coffee that place on the corner. Nine sharp” “I’ll be there”

Here are some beautiful KITTENS: @midtownvaledictorian@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@tiemeupspidey @captain-katie-xx@panicatttckiss@champagneholland@seilamigliorcosacheabbiamaivisto@mendes-holland @maggie-starz @natalie-kn@vaeyron@wonderyoung @ging3r-fall@louisnholland@little-weirdo-13@calumminter@sunshiineandmoonliight @m-snop@tomhstories @rosieeemma @societalreject @bibs-fortuna @antisocialoutcast12 @jadabelle @las-civus@oceantostars @tiemeupspidey @dr-tardis-who@hazelgracewatersaugustus @jessica-moon9 @sophietanda @yasstoeverygirloutthere @beccaaahh5711 @emptyy-skyy @parkeretmj

#tom holland #tom holland fanfictions #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland oneshot #spiderman

47 notes · View notes

joylessholland · 7 years ago

Text

Live While I Can (Part 2)

TOMXREADER

(1,432 words) This is loosely based on Meghan Trainor - Like I'm Gonna Lose You ft. John Legend

Warnings: I’M NOT A DOCTOR, Swearing, Sickness, sad Tom

A/N: This just like Ruin the friendship was never meant to have a part two but now its gonna have three parts. This part is 400 words shorter than the last but if i tried to stretch it out anymore the story would get watered down so sorry. Plz send me questions and requests I’m running out of ideas lol!

Masterlist Part One ASK BOX (Requests) ENJOY! Part Three

Opening the closet, you run your hands along the long row of scarves, taking a black one with gold trim you go to the vanity. Letting out a sad sigh as you look in the mirror you see a shell of the women you once were, your eyes are glazed over, your once rosy cheeks not pale and caved in, running your hand over your bald head you gently place the scarf on what was once your hairline and wrap your head in the soft fabric. A sharp pain in your side makes you hiss as you stand, the world goes out of focus as you stumble forward. Taking a deep breath, you walk downstairs to see Tom putting the kettle on. “Good choice” he says when he sees you. Giving a weak smile, you pick up the bowl of pills he laid out for you, popping them in your mouth you take a gulp of water to wash them down grimacing at the feeling. When going to refill you glass the pain returns this time its tenfold, grabbing your side and letting out a loud wince the glass falls to the floor shattering. Rushing to your side Tom hold you as you battle the pain away “It’s back” he asks guiding you to the kitchen table, “No, I woke up this morning saying, hey today I’m gonna drop a cup and break it.” Tom laughs and grabs the broom.

“What do you want for breakfast” he asks sweeping up the mess. “I’m not hungry” you say holding your head in your hands “You have to eat something, can’t the the pills on an empty stomach.” He says kissing your head “It taste like ash in my mouth” you say with a frown “I know, but you have to eat, I’ll make you some…” he says searching the pantry “Pancakes?” he asks giving him a small smile he begins making breakfast. Tessa comes over to you and sits at your feet, she does that a lot lately. It’s been six months since you got the news, six more than expected, six months of chemo and radiation, six months of pills and tests, but also six months of being with Tom. When the chemo started hitting hard he insisted you move in, he took such good care of you. But a part of you hated that he did, he was giving up his life for you, he is young and hot and every day you question why he stays with you, a dying girl dating a movie star. In what world is there a happy ending, but every time you try to talk to Tom he waves it off or gets very defensive.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a sudden, intense nausea that rushes through your body. Running to the bathroom you make it to the toilet and begin violently vomiting, knocking on the door Tom asks if you’re alright. Instead of answering you sit silently on the floor of the bathroom wiping your mouth as you begin to sod. The sound of Tom’s concerned call from the other side of the door get more and more desperate the longer you go without responding. Defeated on the floor you silently sod, heart breaking, body shaking the door bursts open. “Don’t fucking scare me like that” Tom says flushing the toilet. Reaching for you he tries to pick you up, swatting away his arms he pleads for you to take his hand but you won’t. Sitting down defeated “Please talk to me, love” his voice soft and full of worry “W-why are you doing this?” you ask through a sod “I do it because I love you, you know that, don’t you”

“I’m dying, Tom, you’re wasting time with me” scooting farther away from him as if your dangerous. “Don’t say that, you are not going to die [Y/N], you’re not leaving me” he says grabbing you and pulling you close “You could be with anyone you wanted, any beautiful woman you wanted.” You cry into his chest “I don’t want any other girl, I want you, as for beauty you’re the most beautiful woman in the whole world.” He stands and holds out a hand “Come on lets, get you cleaned up and fed.”

Getting home from chemotherapy feeling like dry husk of person, everything hurt your arms, your legs, even your fucking hair. Laying on the couch you fall into a fitful sleep full of nightmares. Your head was pounding, you’ve never felt pain this intense you had it all stabbing, shooting, burning, aching pain everywhere in your body. In the kitchen you can’t hear someone rustling around, you try to call out but you mouth won’t form words, you try to move but your limbs are stiff and cold. As panic sets in silent tear escape your eyes, you need help but you couldn’t get it. Barking, wild frantic barking, claws on tile, more barking, then the loud ringing when through tears you see Tom standing above you shaking you.

Someone was holding your hand, whoever is was, was crying. Where were you, how did you get there. If you open your eyes all will be reveled so why did you want to keep them close, you wanted to keep them closed because the second you open your eyes you’d be you again you’d be the girl in so much pain, you didn’t want to fight anymore, you’re so weak and frail. For a moment the grip on your hand tightens and the person connected says “Please come back to me, I need you, please” it was Tom he sounded exhausted. What were you thinking, you couldn’t go not now, not ever, and somehow somewhere deep inside a power awakened and you felt as though you could do anything. “Maybe you should kiss her, then she’ll wake up” you joke out of the side of your mouth your voice hoarse. Tom laughs into your hand and places a kiss on your lips when he pulls away you open your eyes “My handsome prince” you say with a smile “Tessa’s the real hero though.” caressing your cheek he presses the call nurse button. “How long have I been out?” you ask as Tom kisses your hand “Day and a half” “When was the last time you slept” you ask rubbing his arm “I can’t when I close my eye all I see is…” he turns his head and wipes a tear away.

The door next to you open and Tom walks in with Tessa. After a lot of back and forth you finally got him to get out of the house today, after the accident Tom was in full on protector mode. Monitoring your food intake, your levels, how often you had pain, it came from a good place but you needed some time for yourself. “Hey, babe hope you’re hungry” you say placing two plates on the table. “Hey, what’s all this” he says kissing your cheek “You’ve been taking care of me for so long the least I can do is make you dinner.” You say sitting across from him “I got you something” he says handing you a bag “Tommy” you say smiling and opening the package. Inside is a beautiful lavender scarf with a beautiful design. “It’s gorgeous, Tom” pulling the pin from the scarf your wearing you wrap the new one around your pale head “Just like you” he says picking up his fork.

“Feeling better” Tom asks rubbing your arm as you snuggle deeper into his chest “A little” you lied, actually you felt like shit but you couldn’t let Tom know. After dinner you had energy and didn’t wanna crash so you asked Tom if he wanted to snuggle up and watch something on TV but half way through the second Harry Potter movie you felt tired and nauseous but he was having such a good time you knew this because every five minutes he would say “This is nice” and kiss your head. He was so peaceful and warm you didn’t want to move but when the third movie ended he kissed your head one last time and asked if you were ready for bed. Nodding you stood a little too quickly and the world begins to spin and that hellish ringing returns. Putting your hand to your head you try to take a step but the world falls out from under you and you tip forward. A pair of strong hand grad your shoulders steading you “You al’right, love” Tom asks walking with you hand and hand to the bedroom “Just stood too fast” gripping the handrail for dear life!

Here are some beautiful KITTENS: @midtownvaledictorian@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@tiemeupspidey @captain-katie-xx@panicatttckiss@champagneholland@seilamigliorcosacheabbiamaivisto@mendes-holland @maggie-starz @natalie-kn@vaeyron@wonderyoung @ging3r-fall@louisnholland@little-weirdo-13@calumminter@sunshiineandmoonliight @m-snop@tomhstories @rosieeemma @societalreject @bibs-fortuna @antisocialoutcast12 @jadabelle @las-civus@oceantostars @tiemeupspidey @dr-tardis-who@hazelgracewatersaugustus @jessica-moon9 @sophietanda @yasstoeverygirloutthere @beccaaahh5711 @emptyy-skyy

#tom holland #tom holland fanfictions #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #peter parker #tom holland fic

54 notes · View notes