#eye106

[hyatoro]

Good day! May i ask for headcanons about Hiruma and his s/o(girlfriend but he never said it, yet she knows he wont leave her.) Yet this time it appeares that Clifford D.Lewis is interested in her, and he even "kidnapped her" to talk with hersince she's not some weak woman (sassy s/o , since only she can take Hiruma's shit) and well, Hiruma is not pleased with this situation. How would he react?Would he argue with Clifford about it or got mad at her?

Hiruma Yoichi

Fair warning I don’t know how anything fucking works. Cards? Skill? Don’t know her. Also it gets long. 

He’s one of the hardest fucking nutshells to crack in the world.

Yet somehow you managed to worm your way into his heart. It happened through having a constant presence in his life, something he’s always needed considering how detached he is to most things outside of football.

You never took any of his shit, which will still annoy him to this day, always having something to snap back at him should he take something too far.

You come along to America with him since he needed the help, not that he would ever admit it.

When Hiruma goes to the casino you’re the first to run into Clifford. You manage to put up a fight against him, seeing as though you’re used to reading Hiruma and other stoic players from other teams. He can tell you know what you’re doing, and he’s confused. He’s holding the best hand in the game and he knows you know, so why were you just going to stand there and let him eat you?

But you didn’t want to draw any more suspicion so you stop playing after that one round.

The next round is where Hiruma plays and you know how that goes.

Now that you know where the interest in you is established, you get mcsnatched.

Normally, you’re right by Hiruma’s side after a game plan meeting, and for you to be missing was unusual.

He then gets word that you were dragged away somewhere by the American team, but the idiots made it seem more dramatic than it was.

He whips out the tracking device to locate your phone and immediately takes a taxi to where you guys are. Sena, Monta, and Taki are riling themselves up wondering where you are. Kuroki and Togano are only slightly less concerned than them, thinking of the scenarios that could happen, only throwing the first three into more panic while Jumonji and Musashi wait patiently for them to chill the fuck out. Kurita deadass just started chasing the car but he passed out somewhere in the streets of the United States of America. (It’s ok they find him after turning a few corners).

Hiruma already has a clue to what’s going on he knows he doesn’t need ‘back up’ per se.

Once he arrives to your location he looks at the fucking name of the place and loses one of the few strings holding his irritation in. It fucking snaps cause the name of the place is some fucking cozy ass cafe for couples.

He sees you sitting at a booth sitting across from Clifford having a seemingly engaging conversation.

Ready to walk in and play whatever game Clifford is trying to play, he stops when you make eye contact with him. You point him out to Clifford, bow, and start heading for the exit.

You’re smart enough to know that Hiruma shouldn’t meet up with Clifford unplanned. Nice.

He’s standing outside the door of the cafe while you close the distance, and he would never admit it but the relief that you’re okay made his shoulders sag a little.

You two get in the taxi he made wait before you two start your conversation in Japanese.

“What the fuck was that about?” he would say, looking out the opposite window.

“He asked me if I would be interested in dating him, said I was the first girl to intrigue him.”

The fucking weight that placed itself on his chest was not pleasant in the slightest.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Your fucking answer.”

You sighed, leaning forward to rest your elbow on your raised knee, and your chin in your hand. “Why do you need to know? You’re not my boyfriend.” You kept your eyes on him, “And I told him that I was extremely flattered. He’s pretty hot, tall, and smart after all.” 

He looked at you with an emotion you almost couldn’t believe would show on his face. Uncertainty. Nice to know that even he wasn’t so self-assured about your relationship without the label.

“…”

“I told him that I had someone important to me. That this person would go to hell and back to find me, and most likely that he’d be here soon,” you said, your smile soft as you reached out to run your hands through his hair. 

“Then we just talked about football, poker, how Japanese and American schools are different till you showed up.”

His body relaxed as he sagged back into his seat.

“But I guess I am still single. He also gave me his email since international calling fees would be a pain in the butt.”

He whips your phone out of your pocket and scrolls until he finds Clifford’s contact, knowing damn well you weren’t lying about that.

“Why would you delete that? I could’ve become Mrs. Lewis for all you know.”

The next thing you knew your lips were covered with his in a possessive and mildly desperate kiss. The two of you were making out in the backseat of a taxi for the next minute. Not that the taxi driver cared. He’s used to it.

“Fuck that shit. You’re my woman and you sure as fuck aren’t going to be his.”

You cheekily grinned. “Is that a promise that I’ll become Mrs. Hiruma instead?”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

[tt-vision]

eye106 replied:

i have no idea who they are, still want to adopt the kid

young piranha elf would be against it but

[imagine-fairytail-dorks-blog]

i didnt unfollow you because i dont agree with you. its just that in my opinion blog about one topic should stay in one topic. as you can always make another one for serious matters. i have to much pain in my life to read over and over again about things i hear on my streets as Polish person. i enjoy your blog about fairy tail,but other things...i just dont want to be sad more than i am right now. does that make me bad person? because i care about my happiness? you decide.

gonna put this long ass response under read more. Nothing triggering (much, unless you’re not okay with bullying or narc abuse mentions or stuff), but yeah, i honestly don’t want drama going on over here nor do i have the time or energy or even patience to lose my mature self over it.

oh, you were the one who unfollowed?

well i am sad to say this but i will not stop reblogging things that can actually help save people’s lives i am sorry to say that.

And i don’t even post that much stuff in here about whatever. 90% of it goes to another personal blog of mine. If i do reblog something i either did reblog it by accident while trying to reblog stuff to my sideblog, and delete it after i reblogged it correctly or b) i do it because the post might have to do with people’s lives and prevent certain dangerous or harmful situations, besides this is the blog i have most followers in currently and i want people to eb safe so i will always reblog it

I don’t decide anything you do whatever you want. I don’t have any patience for drama nor the time or energy for it. I’m not obligating anyone to stay. Those who want to stay stay those who want to walk out the door , do so, i’m not here for the numbers but for the few and good.

And believe me, you’re not the only one with bad stuff on their lives, don’t even go there. I have suffered from bullying and cyberbullying at school, i was humiliated countless times, and harmed be it physiocally/verbally/emotionally/psychologically. i have abusive narc parents at my home who constantly insult me,or humiliate me on a daily basis or beat me up,(if not, menace to)threaten my loved ones or try to spread lies about me. I have bitchy coworkers at my workplace who constantly try to pass over me and snoop on my work, i have dealt with one thousand shit that won’t even go through your head

and as result i have ptsd and ocd due to my traumas and anxiety resulting from all of this.

But do i get sad over life? of course not, no!; life still has many things so ebautiful to live on / by, and i willl not let them win; i have far too much love filled within me by the few oness who love me and wish me well and have given me a sense of freedom and forgiveness; there is far too much on life to be lived and so much to be grateful for or admire, i will never give up on my life. no, i move on , i learn and i do not forgive or forget , and yes i may have trust issues but i won’t let people harm me again that easily. i still give everyone a chance before judging until they’ve messed or fucked up good and then i cut them out of my life because the world is big and there are still some few who like you for who you are. even if you end up alone you have to get up and face the world as it is, but still see the beauty in it.

of course i have no mouth to maybe speak not living in the usa, or having gone through the holocaust but i have had my own fair share of pain, and humans deal with pain in many different civilized ways. I have my own way to deal with it too.

But will I avoid reblogging stuff that is crucial for people’s knowledge and bedgrudginly, their safety , even if I feel myself ensaddened or anxious for it? no, I won’t. because their lives matter too, and I don’t want to tbe that one who stopped the flow and probably caused someone to not be informed on time to prevent a disgrace to themselves.

You want to unfollow? i will say one more time. Do it, do what you want. You have to unfollow to feel comfortable? go ahead, no hard feelings. I don’t attach myself easily to people anyways, it takes me very long to do so, I will tell you, even after years and so, I will not give info about me to others as easily nor will i expect it from others because i am a mature fair person. So, no hard feelings if you want to unfollow. I am merely doing what i see as my duty to the good and safety of others.

Also just for notes: you were not the only one to unfollow, i had another someone else, so i won’t be pointing fingers to anyone. But yeah, i egt people get triggered by stuff sometimes, i do the same to unfollow some blogs when i do. so again, no hard feelings. Can’t handle it, well then sorry, but as i said again, i won’t stop reblogging posts that could help people in a way.

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

My little Squeaky Toy Pt.5 (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Title: My little Squeaky Toy Pt.5

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary: In which Tom and you finally have dinner together in an Italian restaurant.

Warnings: fluff, romance, kissing, a lot of blushing, clumsiness, shy reader, Tom Hiddleston is a ridiculous gentleman and sweetheart, embarrassing situations

Notes: I’m not really satisfied with this part, I’m sorry.

            (Y/C) = your city

Word count: 2008

Previous Parts: Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4  

Requested by: @eye106

The restaurant was small. A tiny building so far off the main streets that it was no wonder that it was pretty much empty. Tom’s hand lay on your lower back as he guided you into the even smaller room. It felt good, though, his grip was neither too strong, nor was force put into it. You could barely feel his fingers on your back, so light was the touch.

It puzzled you, how you had survived the car ride and the permanent side glances he had thrown at you, without going insane. Well, you had been in some sort of daze the moment you had landed in his arms and had just managed to snap out of it when you had arrived at the restaurant.

Tom talked to a waiter, who quickly took your jackets and led you to a table in one of the corners, far away from the entrance or anything that could make noises which would interrupt or distract you. In a hurry he lit the candle in the middle of the table - it was a small one in a glass - and pulled out the chair for you to sit down. You were a bit flustered, but concentrated only on the beautiful human being, that was just getting comfortable, in front of you. He really was beautiful.

The candle light and the smile, that was plastered to his lips, didn’t make it any better. Talking about it… said smile grew until a row of perfect white pearls was being revealed. How did he even manage that? Keeping his teeth in such perfect condition?

“Are you okay, darling? You look a bit flushed.” He sounded concerned, but the grin on his lips told you something different. He was teasing you on purpose.

“I have never felt better.” That wasn’t a lie. Internally, you were screaming in pure excitement and joy and you couldn’t remember the last time you had to suppress a grin with such force. The smile was everything you let slip. At least, he should know that you enjoyed yourself.

One of Tom’s eyebrows shot upwards when you took the menu from the waiter, smiling at the middle-aged man shortly in thanks. Then your gaze was fixed on Tom again.

The light in the restaurant was dim, although it was still bright daylight outside. It made you wonder about how in the world Tom had managed to spot this place without having directly passed it on his way into the city.

Small shadows were cast along Tom’s soft features, his sharp cheekbones and tender throat highly accentuated in contrast to his cheeks and the crook of his neck. He wore a dark-blue button-down shirt, that almost seemed black, with rolled up sleeves. The light linen – seemingly crinkled at the sleeves and near the buttons – caressed his body in a way you had never seen on another man before. Basically, and honestly, Tom could wear whatever he wanted, and you would still drool over him, no matter how messy he would look.

“Do you already know what you want to drink?” The moment he spoke, your eyes were drawn to his lips. God, what was wrong with you?

“No – I mean yes. Yes, I do.” Could it possibly get any more embarrassing?

By the way he smiled at you, you could tell that he had caught you staring and apparently, he found that rather amusing. Just seconds later he leaned a bit forward and propped his chin on one of his hands.

“What are you going to take?”

“I’m – uh…” You stammered and internally applauded yourself for such an intelligent statement.

“You didn’t choose anything, am I right?” He flashed you a cheeky grin. “What about Pinot Noir? It goes really well with pasta.”

You assumed that Pinot Noir had to be wine or something similar. At least it sounded like it was. Maybe red wine. Actually, you weren’t someone to drink alcohol, but that was a special occasion and one single glass couldn’t be that bad after all.

“I’m sorry.” Concern showed on his face, his brows knitted slightly. “I didn’t even ask you if you liked wine.”

“Depends. What is Pinot Noir?” You answered truthfully, causing Tom to laugh heartily.

God, he was so beautiful like that.

“It’s red wine. Trust me when I tell you that it is worth trying.”

“Okay… How much is it?” You meant the price, because, considering the name of that wine, it might be expensive, and you weren’t exactly rich.

“Don’t worry about the price, Darling, I’m paying.”

Of course, you should have known that he would offer that. But now you were sitting in front of him, agape at his kindness and just didn’t know what to say, completely surprised, although you should have known. You felt your cheeks flush and, considering how hot your face was at that moment, you were probably as red as a tomato.

Tom tilted his head slightly upwards and then down again, smiling gently at you, no judgement to see in his eyes.

“You are beautiful when you blush.” It sounded so innocent and soft, coming from him and it just made you blush all the more.

“Thank you?” How were you supposed to react to something like this? His stare was intense enough to make you shift nervously and curl a strand of hair in between your index finger and your thumb.

His smile grew wider and he leaned back slightly, obviously looking you up and down. Normally, you wouldn’t have noticed, but that was different. It wasn’t just some guy, it was Tom.

And apparently, he did it with the knowledge of you noticing what he was doing. Hopefully, he would stop soon. Not, that you didn’t like having his attention, you merely didn’t want to be blushing for the rest of the evening. He chuckled and looked down, studying his hand, while you were studying him.

His glasses were sliding down his nose, just a bit and they definitely wouldn’t have fallen down - they stopped mid-way - but you couldn’t resist the urge and leaned forward, gently pushing it up again. Then holding his gaze, you wanted to sit down again, but his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, as he gently pulled you forward. And suddenly you felt overwhelmed by his presence. Before you knew what was happening, he cupped your cheek and pulled you even closer, careful so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

“Are you seeing anyone lately?” His voice was slightly hoarse and his gaze intense and fixed on you. It made you shudder and colour, when you realized what he had meant with that question.

“No…” You hesitated to hold eye contact, but at the same time, you wouldn’t even have been able to withdraw or do anything at all, his scent and hot hand on your skin almost too much to bear.

“That’s good.” He shifted slightly, reached for the back of your neck and kissed you. For the first few seconds, you couldn’t think, were not able to realize what was happening. Your head was spinning and all at once, you felt lightheaded and dizzy. Then you noticed how soft and warm his lips were, how gentle the kiss and how patiently he merely pressed his lips against yours, waiting for you to respond or to reject. And that was all it took for you to kiss him back, to move your lips and show him that, yes, yes you liked it and yes, you wanted more.

At some point, you might have knocked your – still empty – wine glass over but you couldn’t care less. You wanted to kiss him forever.

But Tom was the first to part again, slightly dazed, and caressed your cheek gently. Flushing deeply red, you looked away and sat down again, flattening your blue dress to keep your hands busy.

The hand, that had cupped your cheek only a few seconds ago, had wandered down your neck, shoulder and arm until it had reached your hand and Tom intertwined your fingers with his.

You stared at him wide eyed, not really registering when he ordered a bottle of wine and your meals and sent the waiter away again, paying his every attention to you once more. He squeezed your hand gently and smiled reassuringly, as if he was afraid you would change your mind at the next best opportunity.

“How can you brighten up with one smile?” It was barely a whisper, not intended for him to hear, but he did and chuckled amused, making you flush all over yet another time. But why did you even take the time to be embarrassed for what you had said? He was the one who had kissed you, wasn’t that obvious enough? You didn’t think of Tom as someone who would play games for fun with other people’s feelings. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but feel insecure. Showing people your vulnerability was never something that was easy for you, and even Tom was no exception in that case. Although, you were already trusting him a lot more than you had ever trusted anyone before – again, besides your best friend of course.

“Because I mostly laugh when I am truly happy.” He guessed and now it was your turn to laugh.

“What did you order?” The least thing you wanted to do, was ruining the mood, but at some point, you had to know what you were going to eat.

“I ordered Fettuccine Napoletana for the two of us. Is that okay with you?”

“How did you know that I love this pasta dish?”

“You said you love pasta.” He smirked and winked at you. You knew that he had probably simply guessed, but it was a cute and sweet gesture anyways.

The waiter came back to your table with a bottle of wine and poured you a glass, moving on to Tom’s glass afterwards. When he had left again, Tom lifted his glass and smiled softly.

“Cheers.” You clinked glasses with him and took your first sip of the red wine, all the time being observed closely by Tom.

“It’s good, I like it.” You stated and put the glass down again, the sweet taste of the dry wine still lingering on your tongue. Truth be told, it tasted exactly like every other red wine, making you wonder why Tom was so fond of it. At least, he seemed pleased with your answer.

The two of you were talking until your food arrived. He told you about his tight schedule, the many takes they had to shoot, the mistakes that happened to nearly every actor on set, his utterly frustrating and annoying costume and at some point during your conversation he trailed off to Shakespeare. It was plainly adorable. You listened, loving every word that left his mouth, and watched him as he gesticulated to strengthen what he was saying. You could listen to him forever, so every time it seemed as if he wouldn’t continue to talk, you asked him a new question. Actually, it was the first time that he talked that much, but probably because he was just as nervous as you.

He kept his word and payed for your dinner, tipping the waiter generously, before helping you stand up and put your jacket back on.

His hand was on the small of your back again, as he led you out of the restaurant.

“That was really lovely.” He turned to look at you, his other hand curling around your waist. He was all smiles.

“Yes, it was. Thank you.” Almost intuitively, you placed your own hands on his chest, once again marvelling at his height. “Thank you for inviting me.”

There was a short silence, in which he just looked at you in awe.

“I’m sorry that I talked that much, darling.” There was a hint of concern and guilt in his eyes, his grip around your waist tightening protectively. “Do you want to come with me for a cup of coffee?”

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[give-me-tom-hiddleston]

Tom Hiddleston Imagine

I was my first time in London and I guess you just have to get lost in this city. Luckily I found a place where I got a Sandwich and a coffee. Near by there was a park and I sat down on a bench. I also had a book with me, for some time I enjoyed the sun and read. In total I sat ther for good two hours but still I was lost so I asked the next person where I could find a Bus stop.  “Sorry.” I asked a tall man, he wore some sunglasses and he looked very friendly. He stopped and took off his glasses. “Could you tell me where the next Bus stop is? I’m kinda lost.” I laughed. “Of course. So, there are some Taxis down the street, a Bus stop just around the corner and about ten minutes from here you find an Underground Station.” He pointed into the different directions while talking. “Thank you so much.” I smiled but still looked around confused. “Where do you need to go?” he asked, “Oh, well. It would help alot if I just get to Paddington Station.”  “You should take the Underground. It’s this way.” he pointed down the street. “Oh, thank you so much.” I nod and started walking. “Would you mind if I walk with you?” the men jogged next to me. “Not at all.” I smiled. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked after some seconds. “Eheh. Maybe.” he put his glasses back on. “The laugh. Of course.” I shouted it nearly. “You are Tom Hiddleston.” I was super excited. Tom laughed shyly. “I am indeed. Nice to meet you.” he truned to me to shake my hand.”Is this your first time in London?”  “Yes. I didn’t thought that I would get this lost but luckily I met you.”  “Yes, but that happens in every city that you don’t know. When I was in Rome for the first time I couldn’t find my Hotel so I stayed in another one for the night. The next morning I found myself on the other side of the city.”  “Good to know that even you get lost.”  We talked until we had reached the Train Station. “Thank you so much again.” I said. “No problem.” he replied. “Could I hug you?” I asked before he could walk away. “Next time.” he smiled. “Next time?” I asked confused. “I’m in this park everyday. So the next time you get lost in this area we might see eachother again.”  I didn’t knew what to answer so I just nod and walked away. ‘Did he asked me out?’ I wondered and I couldn’t help it. The next day I went back and found him sitting in the park. “Do you mind if I sit here?”  Tom looked up from his phone, a smile grew on his face when he saw me standing infront of him. “Not at all.” he answered.  

gif from letlovebyourenergy

requested by @eye106

More Tom Hiddleston Imagines here

[seductivegodofthunder7]

Requested by @eye106: i ask for a ship with ho character please? I'm a female 5'6, brown hair and multiple color eyes. I try to smile and met new ppl but sometimes memories from the past make me... Sad and an indoor person. I love sweets and comfy places. Also silly jokes, who doesn't love them? Once I like someone as a friend or more, I love to hug, I just need contact with person.

I ship you with Fred!

He loves that your eyes are loads of different colours, thinks it's really cool. You don't need to try and smile and him, because he makes you smile with his jokes, cause he's also a sad indoor type of guy. You both love sweets, comfy places and jokes (obviously). He uses any time your together to hug you.

[tt-vision]

eye106 replied to your photo: “two more paintings 😂”

what is the name of your house and how much does it costs?

It’s the The Ebony Flask Inn Room. You gotta do the quest  “A Friend In Need” to get it.

[exorcistcupid]

I adore your Lavi headcanons and scenarios

It was like Hell itself was released on the battlefield. There were so many Akuma and only so many Exorcists and Finders on hand. It was a surprise attack; the Exorcists were almost completely overwhelmed. With the help of the Finders capturing the lower level Akuma for them, however, they were able to win back the upper hand.

Lavi Bookman had lost sight of you more than a few times amidst the chaos. He believed you were strong enough to hold your own, though. He had seen you in fights before. He had to focus all of his attention and energy on keeping the casualties low and the Akuma numbers down. 

He would have used his fire seal to end it, but he had lost track of his surroundings and comrades. Using it now could either result in friendly fire or a forest fire. He was holding his own pretty well, though, which his large hammer. He caught a glimpse of you after the Akuma blew up, and as he thought, you seemed to be doing just fine.

That is, until Lavi saw the level three creeping up behind you. You were too far away for him to deal with it himself, and you couldn’t hear him screaming at you to watch out. It was too late. The Akuma produced a controlled explosions from its palms, hitting you point blank with it in your back. Then Lavi lost you again, unable to see you.

He stopped breathing. His head swam. He felt as if the ground beneath him was a trap door, and it swung open beneath him. His heart felt like a stone sinking into his stomach. No, no, this can’t be where you died. You couldn’t die; not now. Not while he still needed you. You couldn’t leave him.

Lavi was blinded by fury as he yelled out to anyone who could hear him to clear the area. Despite his hesitation before, he was feeling reckless now. He activated his Level 2 Innocence and used his Combo Stamp: Terrible Lightning of Heaven. The raging fire swirled into the shape of a giant snake that danced along the battlefield, finishing off most of the Akuma in a series of small explosions. He smashed and crushed his way through the rest of them. The Finders knew to stay out of his way. He was running on pure, raw rage, unlined by terror. You were dead. You were dead. A voice in his head kept chanting that at him. You were dead.

When it was over, ground was drenched in Akuma oil. He distantly heard one of the Finders tell his men to not let it touch their skin and to cover their faces with something until they could evacuate the area. After the adrenaline of the battle had worn off, Lavi felt cold, and numb. He slipped and slid across the battlefield as he looked for you. At the very least, he needed to see your body. He needed to bring it home. To bring you home. 

It took him a while, but he heard shifting against the grass, followed by a pained whimper. Lavi almost tripped over himself running to the source. There was a figure laying a couple feet ahead of him, face down, seemingly still, until he looked closer and saw the frame of the figure rise and fall with shallow breaths. He took a couple steps closer and realized that it was you. Your back was scorched and torn to ribbons, but it looked like you weren’t bleeding out too much; the explosion, for the most part, had cauterized your wounds. He dropped to his knees next to you and slid his arms under you, helping you up. You yelped when you strained your back, and slumped heavily into his arms. But oh god, you were breathing, you were alive.

“Lavi, are you crying?” You choked out, coughing. He blinked, slowly thawing his numbness away. Now that you spoke, tears spilled down his face. He looked over his shoulder and called out for a stretcher. When he looked back at you and saw you looking up at him, exhaustion evident on your face, he felt a sob escape his throat as he pressed his head against the side of yours. You laughed weakly, which dissolved into a fit of coughing and another yelp from moving your back.

He followed close behind the Finders after the gathered you onto the stretcher to carry you to the nearest medical facility for treatment. The doctor said that while you were going to have terrible scarring on your back, you were otherwise going to be okay. The wound wasn’t life altering, but Lavi could tell it still hurt like a bitch. You said as much to him when the doctor left and he chuckled weakly. He was in another state of happiness; you were alive, you hadn’t left him, you were right there, making a joke. He was so lucky.

[imagine-fairytail-dorks-blog]

Can I ask for Lyon Vastia getting confessed by girl from his guild.

Makes dramatic pose* YES YOU CAN ! ~

also apologies i think he’s a bit ooc ;A; i tried.

 Lyon:

Six years ago from now, Lyon and some of his guild comrades had gone on a mission to extinct the current local dark guild  out of a neighboring town; something you begged the mayor of said county more than a hundred times to supply aid for the citizens, often enduring a reprising time living in the fear of those who inculted it: often stealing their savings or food, menacing of blackmail or similar criminal acts. You, being a sole mage from a small group of wizards who surely had not much experience fighting said people nor combat or magic skills would rpove fruitless no matter how many times, even in the shadows, you tried to help the villagers. After all, in such a small town, almost a village, with little insight or instruction in magic what could you do?

Although that fateful day, 6 years ago, in that current timeline, you had the miraculous luck to be bestowed with Lamia Scale’s guild members crossing the town while heading back to their own formerly from an earlier mission. They had just stopped by aa local petite restaurant, filling up their stomachs after a well fought battle against a small monster in some nearby city as well, and you had the chance to witness their prowess upon a pair of underlings of the dark guild trying to force them to spill their belongings out to them.

Such strength which came out and repelled them easily however was what astounded you, but even more the beautiful magic which came in the form of crystalled water from a partiucarly unusual young man. nevertheless, it’s not difficult to guess you asked for their help on defeating the dark guild, which they succeeded and brought you to the decision of leaving the town and joining the lamia scale guild as well.

Leading us to the current timeline, and hesitant event you were about to unfold.

Now, you were particularly close to the god slayer’s cousin Sherry Blendy, being therefore however a rival of Cheria’s unrequited love for the ice mage, ever since the day he helped out with your hometown. Although cautious as you were, you tried to hide your feelings well around the guild members not wishing to stir up a fire which was not caled for and would prove to be difficult to light off, since after all even with other love rivals Chelia proved to be quite persistent and vicious, even if it was unrequited by either parts, as seen in the grand magic games.

However your hesitancy could also add to the earlier scenarios you proved witness to some occasions before and after the grand magic games: the ice mage seemed infatuated enough with Fairy tail’s water mage and that alone was enough to make you reconsider not confessing and leaving things as they were, not wishful to break your friendship with the ice mage as well as create a weird ambience within the guild. Although as far as it went, even Yuka, who was a great friend of Lyon could honestly notice how you felt towards the ice mage and even told you beforehand that Lyon had given up on that mage from fairy tail, in hopes of you making a move.

Truth be told though, nerves were getting to you well, as you kept eyeing from the corner of the walls at the imponent and almost intimidating figure of the mage from behind the scenes. You were hoping that whatever topic he was hitting off with Yuka and Toby could be cleared out quickly since going there by yourself amidst it, specially with the other two watching it all unfold would cause clear suspicions and look utterly obvious for what goal that was(!).

Do I go, or not? Do I go, or not?

“ Oi, ____. ”

You swore you had almost jumped 3 whole meters into the air once you felt a familiar hand touch your shoulder and a sickeningly sweet voice (at least in the heart of a enamored person it would seem) approach you as your back was turned to the main hall, frame still enveloped in the shadows of the room; teeth clattered and figure shaked with nervosity before you turned to face the ice mage painfully slowly, like a robot, your lips quivering to make a coherent sentence, your tone fearful.

   " H-h-h-hai? “

   ” why are you hiding behind this wall? you’ve been doing this for the past 20 minutes or so Yuka told me. You wanna tell me something? “

If your inner spirit could come out and strangle Yuka, specially with that ill grin of his staring back at both of you from behind, he would’ve dropped dead by now. Figuratively. You cursed inwardly at the anti-mage.

     KONOYARÕ!!!!*

Oh well, ______. You gotta thoughen up, prove them you’re no chicken and clear this once and for all goddammit!

” huh…well, right. Could i take you a minute of your time, Lyon-san? just.. the two of us, please?“

For a flash of seconds you could’ve seen the furrow of Lyon’s brows: most probably bdue to your constant use of that suffix when he told you hundreds of times to drop it, but he payed no mind to such at the moment, opting to instead follow your demise (although you could almost swear you had seen a hint of scarlet fading from his cheeks), thus opting for a more private setting of the building, as you climbed upstairs and occupied one of the currently vacant rooms of the guild.

Once inside, you promptly closed the door behind you allowing the ice mage to take a comfortable spot ( completely oblivious to the event that was about to take place, as he so comfortably sat upon a nearby chair ), his gaze seemingly impatient and reprehensive, his arms crossed as well as his legs; although his gaze did not leave your form even for a bit.

” So? what is it that you’ve been wanting to speak to me about? “

Averting your gaze to the side for once, and then changing it to the floor, gluing your (e/c) hues to the curiously brownish tone of it (which was not even remotely funny or interesting but you were beyond nervous to care!) you tried to project your voice as clear and reasonably loud as possible.

   ” Lyon-san… what I am about to say…. No matter the outcome I don’t want you to get upset at me or to break your friendship with me….okay? “

Those words issued a more careful gaze of the ice mage, as his lips parted lightly with surprise and an expression of puzzlement as well as contempt, hesitant to listen to what was about to come, although he deduced he could trust in you and what you were about to say.

   ” …I can’t promise something I don’t know if I can do depending in what you’ll say but …I think I can trust you, so sure go ahead. “

  You gulped deeply and dryly, braincells trying to put up together words and sylabbles before you had to echo those embarrassing and so sickeningly common and out of originality phrases you had countless times watched in movies and read in books, deep with feeling and aim. Trying not to go out of track or short of breath, your cheeks tinted with the most riped shade of red you could honestly feel yourself becoming hotter by the second and that was something you honestly tried to withstand while also hesitantly aiming to the  silver haired mage’s gaze.

  ” the…..the thing is… I… since a long time…have been

     in love with you.

Ever since I joined this guild that is…“

A deafening silence installed in the room, and you looked away from the ice mage fearing the worst, biting your lips as you tried to contain everything in; your body facing backwards the door, you were alrady boiling with emotions , considering this a bad decision and wishing the floor to suck you whole.

Although it did take you by surprise as the mage’s body was suddenly drawn to yours, your much more shorter form being held by strong arms; you dared to glance upwards wide-eyed, and witnessed a likewise state as the male was jaw dropped, cheeks flushed and holding the most adorable smile you had ever seen - comparable to a child’s in a snowy morning.

” You mean to tell me ….You have been feeling the same and never told me about it?! “

” WHY DID YOU HIDE THIS FROM ME FOR SO LONG, ___?! I COULD’VE MADE YOU MY GIRLFRIEND SOONER THAN THIS! “

A fit of chuckles escaped your lips happilly as you realized this dork you had fallen in love with had actually reciprocated your feelings. And here you thought you’d be flat out rejected, such a relief and such happiness you felt at the same time, you could not avoid but to actually engage in his antics.

It was not needed to say, the next hour you were climbing downstairs with Lyon hand in hand; and the wholesome of the guild cheering you on, as well as a defeated Cheria also accepted her destiny, to leave her precious ice mage to you.

_______________________________

NOTES:*konoyaro = you bastard! - often used in a light insulting way.

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

My little Squeaky Toy Pt.4 (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Summary: Tom and you continue to text each other. And after a few weeks Tom comes up with a surprise and the dinner you still owe him.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: fluff, a tiny little bit of romance, mild swearing (not actually, there is like one swearword in the story), blushing, clumsiness, shy reader, slight angst, Tom Hiddleston is a ridiculous gentleman and sweetheart, sassy!Tom

Notes: (Y/C) = Your city             (Y/F) = your friend’s name             It took me longer than expected to edit it, I’m sorry for that. I just hope     you’ll enjoy it anyways.

Word Count: 2361

Requested by: @eye106

Previous Parts:  Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

A few weeks had passed since the meeting in the art gallery, and you had managed to write almost every day. You were surprised about how much the two of you talked when he found the time to call you. He used to ask you a lot of questions and you wondered if it wasn’t getting boring for him to hear your normal life stories. But he showed genuine interest and listened to your stuttering or the difficulties you had with your job. It was as if he wanted to know as much as possible about you and that somehow made you feel special in a way you had never felt before. The simplicity that lay between you and Tom when you talked or messaged each other managed to calm you down, even if it was just a little bit. It was astonishing, what Tom had already done to you.

After a good amount of phone calls, which had lasted at least three hours each, you had started to draw at the same time, because you somehow needed to keep your hands busy and some inspiration had struck you.

You were in the middle of painting again – your fingers full of black and grey colour – when your phone rang once again. It was placed right in front of you on the table of your living room, so you would never miss one of his messages or calls.

On the other hand, he seemed to arrange his phone calls always at times at which you were definitely at home and available. Could be coincidence, but you didn’t think so. He had been too obviously asking about your time schedule, your spare time and your weekends. Consequently, he knew exactly when you had time to talk and when not. That man was a miracle. He seemed to remember nearly everything that you had already told him. Sometimes catching you completely off guard with questions about topics you didn’t even recall talking about.

“Hello?” Trying to not sound too excited about his call didn’t quite work, but it had been worth a try.

“Did I interrupt something?” Came his answer almost instantly. His smooth, deep voice sounded a bit worried. “I would be terribly sorry if I did.”

Bastard, you thought, always with his friendliness and good manners, worrying and caring about everyone but himself.

“No. I’ve been painting until now, and needed to clean my hands, that’s why it took me a moment to answer.” Unable to suppress the smile that formed on your lips, you brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. Of course, you hadn’t actually cleaned your hands, but he didn’t have to know that you had nearly spent two minutes thinking about him before picking up the phone.

“Sorry. Shall I call again later?”

“NO!” Realizing that you had just screamed at him, you were quick to correct yourself. “I mean no, it’s fine. You couldn’t have known what I’m doing right now. Thank you for calling.” You rambled a bit but didn’t care about it. Tom had already witnessed so much since you two had met. Your blushing, the squeaky toy, cursing and following squeaking, your endless stuttering. He was a very patient and kind man. Everyone you had met before had – at one point – turned their back on you. Besides your friends, obviously. But you preferred to keep your circle of friends relatively small.

You heard him chuckle and immediately longed to see his face.

“It’s good to hear that I’m not the only one enjoying our little phone sessions.”

You felt yourself blush. Tom hadn’t said something like that before, you had simply assumed that he had to like it because he had been the one to always call you.

“How has your day been so far, darling?”

Darling, you knew he called literally everyone darling, but somehow you liked the way he pronounced it when he was talking to you.

“Good, thank you. Work was a bit stressful as always, but everything has been just fine until you called.”

“How am I supposed to understand this?” He mocked gently, obviously not in the intent to annoy or embarrass you. Just childish, but sort of adorable, joking around.

“That depends on your interpretation of it.” You teased, but seconds later you were already worrying about what you had just said.

“Huh, cheeky today.” You didn’t miss the amused tone in his voice. So he wasn’t angry or upset, good to know.

“No, that’s not-! I just….!” You felt your face flushing and internally thanked god that you were just talking and not seeing each other. The sweet and deep chuckle on the other side of the line startled you out of your slight daze.

“Don’t worry, calm down, darling.” The low tone sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s adorable.”

“Yeah, sure it is.” That you sounded that devastated hadn’t been the plan, but well, now you would have to go with it.

“No need to be so self-contemptuous.” It sounded as if he wanted to say something else but he kept quiet, giving you the chance to speak again.

“So how has your day been? We have just talked about my day so far.” Somehow that sentence just made you feel even more selfish than before.

“Well, you didn’t tell me anything specific, to be honest. So, I wouldn’t count that as <just talked about you>.”

You would have punched him if there hadn’t been a distance of more than just a few miles between you and if he hadn’t sounded that cute while talking.

“I told you that I’m painting.” You bit your lip, not wanting to tell him what exactly you had talked about with (Y/F) during your lunch break. There was absolutely no need to talk with him about something so embarrassing. And wouldn’t he feel awkward, too?

“Tell me about your day, please?” It was not meant to be a distraction, you were truly interested in his days. Perhaps one of the reasons was that in his life just basically happened more than in your plain and boring one. And of course, you cared. The first time you had talked on the phone, you had forgotten to ask him how he was and had felt tremendously guilty afterwards. And worried, too.

“Luke and I started planning the coming weeks, I read through a few scripts. Nothing astonishingly new.” You could swear you heard him sigh in…exhaustion? You had never heard such a strained exhale coming from him.

“What’s wrong? You seem a bit off?”

“Nothing is wrong. Thank you, darling, for worrying.” He was smiling, you could hear that. It eased a bit of the sudden concern that you had been overcome with.

“Uhm… but if you really want to know…” He laughed his sweet and unique laugh with a slight hint of bashfulness in his tone. “There is something I want to ask you.”

Something he wanted to ask you, your brain repeated. That could be basically everything. Something bad as well as something good. Perhaps he had rethought his decision to have given you his number. Or worse, he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

“I’m around (Y/C) at the moment and thought we could catch up on our dinner. That is, only if you want to, of course.”

You nearly messed up your painting, completely shocked and startled, not even able to answer him.

“Darling? Are you okay?” Did he really ask you that? After he had just told you that he was probably in your city, as if it was nothing?

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re already here?” The sound of your voice was close to that of your squeaky toy and instantly you felt yourself flush all over.

“I’m…” He seemed to be speechless for a brief instant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was supposed to be a surprise. I should have told you. I’m so sorry.”

The moment he said that, you felt a pang of guilt in your chest. “No I didn’t mean to – I was just surprised to hear that you’re here.” You hurried to say , the painting in front of you forgotten for a moment. Before you picked up your phone to press it against your ear, you wiped the paint off, using your pants for that. Maybe that hadn’t been a wise choice, but there hadn’t been anything else in reach at that moment. Now there were black and purple stripes all over your thighs.

“It’s been quite spontaneous. I didn’t want to get you involved if they hadn’t wanted to shoot the scenes here.”

How sweet of him, you thought abashed.

“What are you shooting for?”

There was a short, but amused, laugh on the other side of the line. “I can’t possibly tell you that.”

As you sighed disappointed, Tom chuckled softly.

“What about our dinner now, darling? You didn’t answer my question. We could finally see each other again, plus I could make up for having kept you waiting for so long.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, you could feel the heat rush into your cheeks and spread all the way to your ears.

“So, what do you say?” His tender voice startled you out of the sort of trance you had been in for a few seconds.

“We could go out tomorrow. Of course, that’s really at short notice, I know. It’s completely okay, therefore, when you don’t want to see me tomorrow.” He rambled a bit, but that couldn’t possibly annoy you when he was just being adorable. He could ramble on for hours and you would still hang on his lips, hungry for every word that left them. Everything on and about that man was so breathtakingly beautiful.

“I’m terribly sorry. Did I upset you?”

“No, you didn’t. You just… caught me off guard.” Being honest about your feelings seemed so much easier when you were talking to Tom. “And yes, of course. I’d love…” You had to pause to gather yourself. “I’d love to go out with you tomorrow.”

“You’re lovely. Thank you.”

The following short moment of silence, you used to put the phone down and recollect yourself enough to start painting again.

“I saw an Italian restaurant yesterday. What do you think?”

“Oh my god I love pasta!” Your joyous cheer was rewarded with his typical and oh so sweet laughter.

“I guess that was a yes then?”

“Yes, it is! When are you done shooting tomorrow?”

“At five. I would suggest you give me your address and I pick you up at seven?” There was definitely a hint of mischief in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes, that’s a good time.” You gave him your address, waited patiently for him to scribble it down and told him to use google maps or another navigation system, because there was literally no reasonable street system in (Y/C). Tom and you talked for the rest of the evening, covering a lot of serious and a lot of absolutely silly topics, but you laughed a lot, enjoying the deep rumble of his voice when he joined in.

The next day went by too quickly. You had had barely time to think about the coming evening until you stood in front of your apartment, unlocking the door and dropping your bag and jacket to the floor to rush straight into the bathroom. The shower came first, then the make-up – you went for eyeliner and mascara, that should be enough – and after you had finished all of that plus your hair, you stood in front of your closet and were faced with the next problem. What should you wear? What were you supposed to wear on your first date? You rummaged through your wardrobe, pulled out three dresses and tried them on. Of course, you could easily go with trousers and a nice blouse, but you felt more drawn to wearing a dress.

In the end, you chose the dark blue one with long sleeves and a wide skirt that just reached your knees. It didn’t look fancy, but it wasn’t boring at all. In fact, It was quite elegant and playful at once. That was, why you liked it that much.

You quickly dressed up and hurried into your living room. Half an hour and Tom would arrive to pick you up. Only 30 minutes until you would finally see him again.

The painting you had finished the previous day, during Tom’s and your nearly four hours long telephone call, lay on the table where you had left it. You knew exactly what you were going to do with it. Especially, after you had realized that the human face, that you had wanted to draw, had turned out to be that of Tom. A face painted with rough strokes, your fingers and only three colours: black, grey and purple. You had varied the shades of each colour, but all in all it was pretty colourless.

Carefully, you placed the painting in an envelope, so it couldn’t (hopefully) be damaged, and put it into your small handbag, not wanting to give it to Tom immediately. After all, you had worked for a few weeks on that.

You sat down and thumbed through a magazine, while you were still waiting. Too nervous to focus on anything, let alone read an article or do something effectively.

When the doorbell rang, you took a deep breath, flattened the skirt of your dress and stood up. But before you went to open the door, you hastily stuffed your little squeaky toy into your handbag. Now you were ready.

Perhaps you opened way too fast, or maybe you were just clumsy, but you found yourself in Tom’s arms, after you had stumbled and tripped over your own feet. His warm, strong arms were tightly wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest.

God, he smelled so good.

“Actually, I wanted to compliment you because you’re looking absolutely ravishing, but that’s okay too.”

You blushed and hid your face on his chest.

Oh no. What had you just done?

Tag List: @fiammablade3466 @zainab2 @the-lululemon @superanimenatural @blackirisposts @thejemersoninferno @nwmtagsb @signalnotfound0 @emyhonny @gallifreyanninja @kimanne723 @alexakeyloveloki @spookycatqueen @disneyoncerlover815 @aaminah12 @mrshiddleston-uk @loobnknoob @lykaonimagines @caticorndancingonpainbows @finney13s @alexxandra-the-great @zombiebunny97 @sarahivi @michellearel1 @mylovelycrazyworld @karnita-mexicana @kinghiddlestonanddixon @clarakainda @serkewen12 @noambitions-blog @isaacunderground @jennytwoshoes 

[fieryknowledge]

Hello. Are you still open and have time to rp with? Hope ou have a wonderful day : )

(always open for rps. Send me a message. Also thanks! Hope you have a good day too)

[kprojectheadcanons]

After Fushimi joining Jungle,how will he treat s/o, who's not Jungle member?

He already doesn’t tell his s/o a lot, but when he joins Jungle he becomes even more distant. He doesn’t even tell them that he left Scepter 4. He feels like they don’t really need to know, but they definitely notice something is off. It’s probably up to his s/o to stay persistent and make him talk.

[imagine-fairytail-dorks-blog]

Good! Then I want sweet moment with Lyon. It can be everything. It can even turn into something spicy. I just want to give this poor guy some love since he's so alone. And your talent will help me! *took jacket from the floor* hehe*smiles*

  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Lyon

“ ahhh— “

 chomp>

   “ hmmmm…. not bad,____! what is this recipe called really? “

 “ huh..it has a complicated name…. i think it’s a chocolate soufflé? “

Not really being your expert area or much of your like your sweet tooth convinced you otherwise and you borrowed a book of recipes containing some delicious desserts you wished to try… and being a bit hesitant as you were you invited your boyfriend, Lyon, to be the taster and try the icing as well as the final result and see how it would turn out…he offered to try to help but… let’s say the last time he did it did not turn out very well…

Thus, his tongue currently licking the remnants around his mouth, not wishing to waste a single drop of the sweet yet sour taste…before you would eventually put it inside the oven for a specific time. You also did however dip a finger in just to try it and see for yourself. for curiosity’s sake , not that you distrusted your boyfriend’s judgement no way.

    “ hmmm,…. i think i should maybe have added more lemon juice…”

  “ ..really? i think it’s fine as it is. “

   “ you think so? because it might end a bit sweet in the end… “

   “ ….well you’re the pro, not me… “

You wandered into your thoughts before you finally entered the recipient of the sweet dish inside the oven, pre-warmed earlier on. for a first time it did not seem too bad, but …was it really supposed to be like this? would it grow enough as the recipe foretold? maybe you should have mixed the ingredients even better…

  A fingertip poked your cheek faintly as it grasped the remnants of flour out of the skin catching you surprised and successfully interrupting your thought process; the ice mage had noticed such event carefully removing the contents out of your face before you ended up sneezing them.

     “ It’s a bit too soon to eat it yet, ____-chan… “

   A chuckle reverberated through your throat. how come you always ended up with something on your face when it used flour? 

    “ i guess so… thanks. “

this is what boyfriends were for - removing dirtiness and poison testing your food.

 Extra:

“ so how much time we have to wait ? “

“ about… 40 minutes. “

…….

“ CURSE YOU OVEN! KEEPING THE DELICIOUS RECIPE OF MY LOVE IN YOUR STOMACH! “

=W=‘

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

My little Squeaky Toy (Tom Hiddleston/Reader)

Summary: You get lost in London and finally decide on asking a stranger for directions. As that stranger even offers you money for your bus ticket you feel like you have to give him something in return, handing over a squeaky toy and your business card, in case he needs something. It is just after arriving back in your hotel that you realize whom you have just met. And given your business card to.

Warnings: light swearing, cuteness, some fluff (like somewhere in the middle, maybe), clumsiness, hinted stress, Tom is a ridiculous gentleman

Notes: (Y/C) = Your country, or your city (depends on whether or not you live in the UK)

Word Count: 2312

Requested by: @eye106

You walked down a street. A street that looked nearly exactly as all the other streets you had already passed. The sixth time in a row you questioned yourself why you hadn’t brought the goddamn map along, why you hadn’t considered the usefulness of it. Sure, google maps would have been an alternative, but in another country, with no functioning network available on your phone, that wouldn’t be useful either.

Exhausted, because you had been up since early in the morning and wandering around all day to visit as much attractions as you could possibly do on one day (classical tourist here), you squished the little squeaky toy in your hands. Good, that only a few people were around. You could only imagine what you had to look like at that moment. Stressed out, exasperated and tired, massaging a small toy with your hand, producing high squeaky noises in the process. Actually, it resembled those balls that one could buy to relieve stress. Only that you didn’t use it on that purpose. No, the reason you had that tiny, and somehow cute, thing was, that it hindered you from swearing and cursing.

I don’t even know where I am! Where are those f***ing street signs?!

Of course, the easiest thing to solve your problem was walking up to someone and simply asking them for directions. But you couldn’t. That was embarrassing, plus everyone would then know that you had no clue about your current location.

Squinting your eyes you tried to somehow get a glimpse of your surroundings, but it was already dark and you had only seen the rest of the city in bright daylight.

Naturally, London by night was an absolutely stunning sight, too, but not when you more and more got the feeling that everything around you had been designed to stress people out, who weren’t able to find their way back home, or to the hotel.

You let out a frustrated sigh and sat down on a nearby bench, resting your tired and hurting feet. There was a park close-by, which you hadn’t come across already.

Congratulations! You’re not moving in a circle.

At least, to not move in a circle was better than going around in circles in the same area all the time. Because that would have been quite typical for you, too. It wouldn’t had been the first time.

You looked around a bit, trying to decide if you should take a photo so that you would forever be able to remember that glorious time when you got lost in the middle of the night in London.

As you sat there, completely lost in your own thoughts, still massaging the little squeaky toy, you didn’t notice how empty it had gotten. The next time you took a look at your watch it was far past nine in the evening. Resigned, you started to make plans on spending the night in the park or on a bench or a bus stop, because you were pretty much sure that you wouldn’t make it back, anyways.

Soft rain started to pour from heaven, greeting you with its clamminess, sticking to your skin in an instant.

Maybe you should finally ask someone, anyone, for directions.

If there had been anyone around. Which was not the case.

You stood up and stretched your numb, tingling limbs.  Heading in the opposite direction you came from, you briefly wondered if the busses were still driving. It was late and you hadn’t looked up the exact opening hours of the public travel services.

The headlights on the next branch off you reached turned red the moment you wanted to cross the road. For an instant, you thought about just walking and ignoring the rules, but at the exact moment you sat one foot onto the street, you caught a glimpse of a pair of grey boots next to your own. They were bigger than yours, their owner definitely a man, because there was no way a woman would have feet that great.

You let your gaze travel up that body, not able to draw your eyes away. Jeez, those legs. How could anyone have such long and lean legs? They were wrapped in black tight trousers. A dark blue shirt started where the trousers ended, the sleeves seemingly carefully rolled up. You had to tilt your head up to get a better look at the stranger’s face. Underneath the street light you could guess dark, ginger-like and wavy curls and a carefully groomed beard of the same colour. Glasses with a black frame sat on his delicate nose. Sadly, the bad lighting didn’t allow you to identify or recognize his skin and eye colour, but they both seemed pretty fair and you could swear you saw some freckles under his ears.

Perhaps you had been staring for longer than you had intended, because the beautiful man next to you shifted uncomfortably and slowly turned to look at you. And then right away at the squeaky toy in your hands, a confused look on his face, which prompted one of his eyebrows to raise unnaturally high. Somehow he felt familiar, but you couldn’t grasp what exactly it was.

“Uhhhhm…” You blinked at him for the entirety of a minute (perhaps even some more), lost in his unnaturally bluish-green eyes. “Uhm…”

The man in front of you narrowed his eyes, but full of worry and concern.

Say something, say something, say something, come on you have a mouth! Use it goddamnit!

“I got lost can you maybe show me the way back to my hotel?” You blurted out. When you realized how unbelievably rude you just had been you opened your mouth to apologize, but the stranger interrupted you with a kind smile.

“Oh dear. No wonder you look so frightened.” He gently reached out and cupped your elbow, to move away from the street, and guided you underneath one of the old-fashioned cast iron street lamps. “What’s your name, Darling?” His smile was genuine. Usually, you were not the type of person who easily trusted strangers they randomly met in the middle of the night in an empty area of the City of London.

“My name is… I’m (Y/N).” You stammered and bit your lower lip in embarrassment. Talking to strangers was not a thing you were used to.

“Nice to meet you.” He took your hand, lifted it to his lips and smiled charmingly, never breaking eye contact, before he planted a soft kiss on the back of your hand, leaving a light tingle behind as he let go again. “I’m Tom.”

Left speechless you gazed at him, completely zoned out. You couldn’t be that lucky, there had to be a snag somewhere.

“Ehehe.” His slightly embarrassed laugh startled you out of your thoughts, especially because it was adorable and sort of cute. And you were absolutely sure that you had heard a similar, perhaps the same, laugh before.

“You wanted to ask me for directions, Darling.” His voice sounded calm, friendly, not the slightest bit annoyed or stressed. The smooth baritone sent shivers down your spine.

“Uhm, yes, sure. I have no clue where I am.” You fumbled with the business card of the hotel. “And I don’t know how to get to this address.”

Nodding, obviously understanding your problem, Tom took the card out of your hands and quickly scanned the address, before looking up again. “That’s impossible to walk.” Flashing a glance at you, he was quick to add “Especially for a young woman like you. There is a bus stop not far from here. Do you have a map?”

You flinched and automatically squeezed the toy in your hands, producing a high-pitched noise. Tom had the grace neither to comment or laugh, instead, he remained calm and smiled once more.

“I guess that’s a no then?”

You felt fear rise in your chest. It tightened painfully and your heart beat fast against your ribcage, the nervousness causing you to fidget on the toy.

“No, no, Darling, it’s alright. I’ll walk you there.”

You wanted to protest, to say that it wasn’t necessary, that he should just describe the way, but you kept quiet. Somehow relieved to have someone by your side, even if it was a stranger, even if he would be gone soon.

“It’s not far, maybe five minutes to walk.” Tom gently placed a hand on your lower back to lead you in the correct direction, automatically choosing to walk on the right side and with that successfully shielding you from the road. “So where are you from? If I’m allowed to ask?” He nearly looked alarmed at his own forwardness.

“Yes, I’m from (Y/C).” You relaxed slightly, his hand on your back easing your stressed mind. It wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the contrary.

“Wow, that is why you have this sweet accent of yours.”

Heat rose into your cheeks and you literally could feel yourself blushing right on the spot. “Yes?”

“May I ask what you are doing in London, Darling? Vacation?”

“No… I mean, yes.” You observed his profile while walking. God, that man had some looks.

“All on your own?” He walked one step ahead of you but otherwise had his pace slowed down.

“I needed time for myself.”

“Life can be rather stressful.” Tom slowed down again when you arrived at the bus stop. “Here you are.”

“Thank you so much.” You turned to look at him and handed him your own business card. “Just… I feel a bit guilty, so just let me know if you need something.”

An honest smile spread across his face. “You’re welcome, darling. And thank you.”

Turning around, you started rummaging in your bag for your purse, but you quickly paused in your actions when you remembered that you had left it in the hotel. And the money you had taken with you had been spent on your lunch and dinner and the ticket for the London Eye.

“Is everything alright?”

You flinched slightly, not having noticed that Tom was still there, watching you intently and with a look of worry on his face.

“Yes, Yes, everything is good, thank you.” Desperately, you tried not to sound nervous, but you had never been a good liar.

“Do you need money? How much is the ticket?” Startled by his friendliness you were struck speechless.

“No I’m fine, thanks. I’m, I’m fine.” Although you knew that you had definitely left your purse in the safe of your hotel room, you still tried to find it in your bag. Of course, you didn’t.

“I honestly don’t think that you’re fine, Darling.” Tom reached out his hand and gave you a reassuring nod. Within his palm laid some money he had taken out of his wallet. “Here, take that. 1,50 £ won’t make me poor.”

His wholehearted enthusiasm made you blush all over again. You didn’t even want to know what he thought while looking at your overheated, reddened face.

“That’s not… that’s not necessary, really. I’ll just walk.” And never arrive at my destination, you thought to yourself, but kept quiet. You would rather walk than take his money, just to feel guilty afterwards.

“Sweetheart, that’s way too far to walk alone. Just take the money already. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

A bit dumbfounded, you took the money and thanked him quietly. It was more than awkward, accepting money from a total stranger, and you wouldn’t even be able to pay it back, because you knew that it was unlikely that you would ever see him again.

“Thank you.” It was a mere whisper, but it was the only thing you were able to manage and you couldn’t stop noticing how soft, big and lean his hands were. The grip surprisingly strong.

“I’m just…” Stumbling over your own words you held out your squeaky toy. “Take this.”

Now he did look confused, but being polite and good-natured, he reached for the squeaky toy and inspected it closely. “Relieving your stress with this? Does it have a name?”

“Fighting my urge to swear, actually.” You bit your bottom lip and looked down. “And no, you can call it whatever you like.”

Tom opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, when the bus arrived and you had to leave. You awkwardly said your goodbyes, paying for your ticket with his money, before you entered the red bus and sat down on the window side. Luckily, you weren’t the only one.

When you leaned your head against the cold glass you caught a glimpse of what looked like dark ginger curls and a blue shirt. With a jolt you sat up straight and earned a grin from Tom, who was still standing at the bus stop, seemingly waiting for the bus to depart. You couldn’t believe your eyes as he raised his hand to wave slightly. He could have just gone home, but instead he stood there, in the rain that had intensified and smiled as if it was nothing special.

You watched how he waited patiently, his eyes never leaving the bus, then, how he slowly got smaller with every metre the bus drove away, until you weren’t able to see him anymore. Never had you thought that you would meet someone like that in London. Someone that special.

Somehow (thanks to Tom’s description of where you had to go when you left the bus) you managed to find your way, safe and in one piece, back to your hotel. You didn’t care about anything anymore, not even a shower. Your body ached way too much from all the walking and standing you had undergone that day.

It was when you had thrown yourself onto the bed and switched on your phone, being confronted with your screen picture, that you finally realized whom you had just met.

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

My little Squeaky Toy Pt.4 (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Title: My little Squeaky Toy Pt.4 (Tom Hiddleston x reader)

Summary: Tom and you continue to text each other. And after a few weeks Tom comes up with a surprise and the dinner you still owe him.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: fluff, a tiny little bit of romance, mild swearing (not actually, there is like one swearword in the story), blushing, clumsiness, shy reader, slight angst, Tom Hiddleston is a ridiculous gentleman and sweetheart, sassy!Tom

Notes: (Y/C) = Your city             (Y/F) = your friend’s name             (repost from my old blog)

Word Count: 2361

Requested by: @eye106

Previous Parts:  Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

A few weeks had passed since the meeting in the art gallery, and you had managed to write almost every day. You were surprised about how much the two of you talked when he found the time to call you. He used to ask you a lot of questions and you wondered if it wasn’t getting boring for him to hear your normal life stories. But he showed genuine interest and listened to your stuttering or the difficulties you had with your job. It was as if he wanted to know as much as possible about you and that somehow made you feel special in a way you had never felt before. The simplicity that lay between you and Tom when you talked or messaged each other managed to calm you down, even if it was just a little bit. It was astonishing, what Tom had already done to you.

After a good amount of phone calls, which had lasted at least three hours each, you had started to draw at the same time, because you somehow needed to keep your hands busy and some inspiration had struck you.

You were in the middle of painting again – your fingers full of black and grey colour – when your phone rang once again. It was placed right in front of you on the table of your living room, so you would never miss one of his messages or calls.

On the other hand, he seemed to arrange his phone calls always at times at which you were definitely at home and available. Could be coincidence, but you didn’t think so. He had been too obviously asking about your time schedule, your spare time and your weekends. Consequently, he knew exactly when you had time to talk and when not. That man was a miracle. He seemed to remember nearly everything that you had already told him. Sometimes catching you completely off guard with questions about topics you didn’t even recall talking about.

“Hello?” Trying to not sound too excited about his call didn’t quite work, but it had been worth a try.

“Did I interrupt something?” Came his answer almost instantly. His smooth, deep voice sounded a bit worried. “I would be terribly sorry if I did.”

Bastard, you thought, always with his friendliness and good manners, worrying and caring about everyone but himself.

“No. I’ve been painting until now, and needed to clean my hands, that’s why it took me a moment to answer.” Unable to suppress the smile that formed on your lips, you brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. Of course, you hadn’t actually cleaned your hands, but he didn’t have to know that you had nearly spent two minutes thinking about him before picking up the phone.

“Sorry. Shall I call again later?”

“NO!” Realizing that you had just screamed at him, you were quick to correct yourself. “I mean no, it’s fine. You couldn’t have known what I’m doing right now. Thank you for calling.” You rambled a bit but didn’t care about it. Tom had already witnessed so much since you two had met. Your blushing, the squeaky toy, cursing and following squeaking, your endless stuttering. He was a very patient and kind man. Everyone you had met before had – at one point – turned their back on you. Besides your friends, obviously. But you preferred to keep your circle of friends relatively small.

You heard him chuckle and immediately longed to see his face.

“It’s good to hear that I’m not the only one enjoying our little phone sessions.”

You felt yourself blush. Tom hadn’t said something like that before, you had simply assumed that he had to like it because he had been the one to always call you.

“How has your day been so far, darling?”

Darling, you knew he called literally everyone darling, but somehow you liked the way he pronounced it when he was talking to you.

“Good, thank you. Work was a bit stressful as always, but everything has been just fine until you called.”

“How am I supposed to understand this?” He mocked gently, obviously not in the intent to annoy or embarrass you. Just childish, but sort of adorable, joking around.

“That depends on your interpretation of it.” You teased, but seconds later you were already worrying about what you had just said.

“Huh, cheeky today.” You didn’t miss the amused tone in his voice. So he wasn’t angry or upset, good to know.

“No, that’s not-! I just….!” You felt your face flushing and internally thanked god that you were just talking and not seeing each other. The sweet and deep chuckle on the other side of the line startled you out of your slight daze.

“Don’t worry, calm down, darling.” The low tone sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s adorable.”

“Yeah, sure it is.” That you sounded that devastated hadn’t been the plan, but well, now you would have to go with it.

“No need to be so self-contemptuous.” It sounded as if he wanted to say something else but he kept quiet, giving you the chance to speak again.

“So how has your day been? We have just talked about my day so far.” Somehow that sentence just made you feel even more selfish than before.

“Well, you didn’t tell me anything specific, to be honest. So, I wouldn’t count that as <just talked about you>.”

You would have punched him if there hadn’t been a distance of more than just a few miles between you and if he hadn’t sounded that cute while talking.

“I told you that I’m painting.” You bit your lip, not wanting to tell him what exactly you had talked about with (Y/F) during your lunch break. There was absolutely no need to talk with him about something so embarrassing. And wouldn’t he feel awkward, too?

“Tell me about your day, please?” It was not meant to be a distraction, you were truly interested in his days. Perhaps one of the reasons was that in his life just basically happened more than in your plain and boring one. And of course, you cared. The first time you had talked on the phone, you had forgotten to ask him how he was and had felt tremendously guilty afterwards. And worried, too.

“Luke and I started planning the coming weeks, I read through a few scripts. Nothing astonishingly new.” You could swear you heard him sigh in…exhaustion? You had never heard such a strained exhale coming from him.

“What’s wrong? You seem a bit off?”

“Nothing is wrong. Thank you, darling, for worrying.” He was smiling, you could hear that. It eased a bit of the sudden concern that you had been overcome with.

“Uhm… but if you really want to know…” He laughed his sweet and unique laugh with a slight hint of bashfulness in his tone. “There is something I want to ask you.”

Something he wanted to ask you, your brain repeated. That could be basically everything. Something bad as well as something good. Perhaps he had rethought his decision to have given you his number. Or worse, he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

“I’m around (Y/C) at the moment and thought we could catch up on our dinner. That is, only if you want to, of course.”

You nearly messed up your painting, completely shocked and startled, not even able to answer him.

“Darling? Are you okay?” Did he really ask you that? After he had just told you that he was probably in your city, as if it was nothing?

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re already here?” The sound of your voice was close to that of your squeaky toy and instantly you felt yourself flush all over.

“I’m…” He seemed to be speechless for a brief instant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was supposed to be a surprise. I should have told you. I’m so sorry.”

The moment he said that, you felt a pang of guilt in your chest. “No I didn’t mean to – I was just surprised to hear that you’re here.” You hurried to say , the painting in front of you forgotten for a moment. Before you picked up your phone to press it against your ear, you wiped the paint off, using your pants for that. Maybe that hadn’t been a wise choice, but there hadn’t been anything else in reach at that moment. Now there were black and purple stripes all over your thighs.

“It’s been quite spontaneous. I didn’t want to get you involved if they hadn’t wanted to shoot the scenes here.”

How sweet of him, you thought abashed.

“What are you shooting for?”

There was a short, but amused, laugh on the other side of the line. “I can’t possibly tell you that.”

As you sighed disappointed, Tom chuckled softly.

“What about our dinner now, darling? You didn’t answer my question. We could finally see each other again, plus I could make up for having kept you waiting for so long.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, you could feel the heat rush into your cheeks and spread all the way to your ears.

“So, what do you say?” His tender voice startled you out of the sort of trance you had been in for a few seconds.

“We could go out tomorrow. Of course, that’s really at short notice, I know. It’s completely okay, therefore, when you don’t want to see me tomorrow.” He rambled a bit, but that couldn’t possibly annoy you when he was just being adorable. He could ramble on for hours and you would still hang on his lips, hungry for every word that left them. Everything on and about that man was so breathtakingly beautiful.

“I’m terribly sorry. Did I upset you?”

“No, you didn’t. You just… caught me off guard.” Being honest about your feelings seemed so much easier when you were talking to Tom. “And yes, of course. I’d love…” You had to pause to gather yourself. “I’d love to go out with you tomorrow.”

“You’re lovely. Thank you.”

The following short moment of silence, you used to put the phone down and recollect yourself enough to start painting again.

“I saw an Italian restaurant yesterday. What do you think?”

“Oh my god I love pasta!” Your joyous cheer was rewarded with his typical and oh so sweet laughter.

“I guess that was a yes then?”

“Yes, it is! When are you done shooting tomorrow?”

“At five. I would suggest you give me your address and I pick you up at seven?” There was definitely a hint of mischief in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes, that’s a good time.” You gave him your address, waited patiently for him to scribble it down and told him to use google maps or another navigation system, because there was literally no reasonable street system in (Y/C). Tom and you talked for the rest of the evening, covering a lot of serious and a lot of absolutely silly topics, but you laughed a lot, enjoying the deep rumble of his voice when he joined in.

The next day went by too quickly. You had had barely time to think about the coming evening until you stood in front of your apartment, unlocking the door and dropping your bag and jacket to the floor to rush straight into the bathroom. The shower came first, then the make-up – you went for eyeliner and mascara, that should be enough – and after you had finished all of that plus your hair, you stood in front of your closet and were faced with the next problem. What should you wear? What were you supposed to wear on your first date? You rummaged through your wardrobe, pulled out three dresses and tried them on. Of course, you could easily go with trousers and a nice blouse, but you felt more drawn to wearing a dress.

In the end, you chose the dark blue one with long sleeves and a wide skirt that just reached your knees. It didn’t look fancy, but it wasn’t boring at all. In fact, It was quite elegant and playful at once. That was, why you liked it that much.

You quickly dressed up and hurried into your living room. Half an hour and Tom would arrive to pick you up. Only 30 minutes until you would finally see him again.

The painting you had finished the previous day, during Tom’s and your nearly four hours long telephone call, lay on the table where you had left it. You knew exactly what you were going to do with it. Especially, after you had realized that the human face, that you had wanted to draw, had turned out to be that of Tom. A face painted with rough strokes, your fingers and only three colours: black, grey and purple. You had varied the shades of each colour, but all in all it was pretty colourless.

Carefully, you placed the painting in an envelope, so it couldn’t (hopefully) be damaged, and put it into your small handbag, not wanting to give it to Tom immediately. After all, you had worked for a few weeks on that.

You sat down and thumbed through a magazine, while you were still waiting. Too nervous to focus on anything, let alone read an article or do something effectively.

When the doorbell rang, you took a deep breath, flattened the skirt of your dress and stood up. But before you went to open the door, you hastily stuffed your little squeaky toy into your handbag. Now you were ready.

Perhaps you opened way too fast, or maybe you were just clumsy, but you found yourself in Tom’s arms, after you had stumbled and tripped over your own feet. His warm, strong arms were tightly wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest.

God, he smelled so good.

“Actually, I wanted to compliment you because you’re looking absolutely ravishing, but that’s okay too.”

You blushed and hid your face on his chest.

Oh no. What had you just done?

Tag List: @fiammablade3466 @zainab2 @the-lululemon @superanimenatural @blackirisposts @thejemersoninferno @nwmtagsb @signalnotfound0 @emyhonny @kimanne723 @alexakeyloveloki @spookycatqueen @disneyoncerlover815 @aaminah12 @mrshiddleston-uk @loobnknoob @lykaonimagines @caticorndancingonpainbows @finney13s @alexxandra-the-great @lilyrosebae @sarahivi @michellearel1 @mylovelycrazyworld @karnita-mexicana @zombiebunny97 @kinghiddlestonanddixon

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

My little Squeaky Toy Pt.2 (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Title: My little Squeaky Toy Part 2(Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Summary: After the London incident you tell your friends about it, not mentioning the fact that it had been Tom who helped you out. For some reason, Tom inspires you to draw again and you head to the nearest art gallery. The luck is on your side that day.

Warnings: cuteness overload, some fluff (like somewhere in the middle, maybe), clumsiness, Tom is a ridiculous gentleman (again), light flirting

Notes: I’ve written this instead of sleeping so I have absolutely no clue if it is even remotely good. (Pls don’t kill me)  -> this is a repost from my old blog, so I’m sorry for tagging some of you guys in this again.

Word Count: 1936

Requested by: @eye106

Tag List: at the end

Here is the First Part 

It had been three months.

Three months since you saw him in London. Three months in which he hadn’t written or phoned you.

But what did you expect? He was famous, a celebrity. He surely didn’t even remember your name. And, of course, he had better things to do than dealing with someone he had merely given directions to.

But you remembered everything. His legs, his hand lying gently but dominant on your lower back, his incredible fair eyes underneath the glasses, the freckles you had just barely been able to spot.

It had been three months and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him for more than one second.

Despite your embarrassment you had somehow hoped that he would have called, or sent a short message, or asked if you had arrived at the hotel.

You had told your friends about your experience and your encounter with Tom, although you hadn’t mentioned his surname, because you had known exactly that they would have laughed. That, they had done anyways, but at least they hadn’t scolded you for not recognizing him and for not asking him for a selfie or an autograph. However, you were certain that, even if you had known who the man had been, you wouldn’t have asked for something like that. After all, you were too shy.

The only thing you had hoped, wished for, was a small text, a call, anything.

But what did you anticipate? You had to scale down your expectations. You should have done that way earlier. But somehow your heart didn’t want to listen to your head. It kept looping around the first time you had met him, in which you hadn’t even recognized who the person standing next to you really had been. You had been falling for him before you had actually identified him. Since then you hadn’t been able to wipe that stupid grin off your face, let alone your thoughts which had been circling continuously around the freckles, and the smile, and the legs… oh, jeez, those legs…

It hadn’t only been his body that had attracted you almost instantly, but also his character and pure and polite behavior.

You let out an exhausted sigh. Being enamoured was sort of stressful. Although you had to admit that your urge to draw had increased since you had met him. The only problem now, was your lacking inspiration.

Earlier that week, you had heard about an art gallery in London and, of course, you just had had to buy a ticket almost immediately. On the one hand because you would be able to maneuver your thoughts to something else than that ridiculously wonderful man, on the other hand because you knew there were going to be beautiful paintings, and therefore, a lot of inspiration to finally draw again.

Although it was one of the closest art galleries, you needed over four hours to arrive via train. You had gotten up early to be there at the opening time, so that you would be able to use the whole day for spending your time in the gallery.

Of course you hadn’t forgotten to bring your little squeaky toy. A new one, naturally. Somehow you had to control your swearing, at least. But you had to admit that you weren’t as fond of the new one, as you had been fond of the old one. However, you kept reassuring yourself, that Tom was taking good care of it.

There had been some problems thanks to your terrible sense of orientation, so the idea to depart earlier had revealed itself as a pretty good one.

Just shortly after the gallery had opened, you arrived there and, thankfully, the line wasn’t that long. It was a modern exhibition, so you weren’t the only younger one to be there, which eased a bit of the tension off your shoulders.

You had to show your ID and let your bag be controlled and, of course, you got weird glances as the security guards spotted your squeaky toy. Besides all your fears, they had just put it into your bag again and had given the latter back to you, so you could finally pass them.

Once in the building, you had to leave your bag in one of the lockers in the hallway, which wasn’t a problem since you could easily put your mobile phone and your anti-stress toy into the pockets of your light jacket. You had dressed up, even had put effort into your hair. For the first time in months you actually felt like you looked beautiful. It scared you a bit, that newly developed self-esteem. But not because you didn’t like it, no. It scared you because you didn’t know where it came from. You had been insecure for a long time of your life and now, all of a sudden, you wanted to shout out how happy you felt, for all the world to hear.

The gallery was amazing. You couldn’t tell which painting fascinated you more. That was until you stopped in front of an impressive painting of a woman in a blue dress. The blue a piercing colour that caught your eye almost immediately. It was a royal blue that emphasised the natural curves and the fair skin of the woman. You didn’t know what exactly it was that made that painting so mesmerizingly stunning, but you just had to stop and admire it, agape and nearly frozen on the spot.

“Overwhelming, isn’t it?”

You hadn’t realised that someone stood beside you. The deep baritone made you jump slightly. You would recognize that voice everywhere. But how? How was that possible?

“The blue makes it all the more beautiful, don’t you think?” He smiled, definitely, you could literally hear him smirking.

Maybe you shouldn’t have chosen the light blue summer dress that didn’t even cover your knees (it wasn’t that short, though, but now you felt like it was). You felt your face flushing and you continued to stare at the painting, unable to move or react in another way.

“Am I allowed to say that you look rather lovely today?”

That didn’t help you with your blushing at all. Thanks to that you were sure that your skin must have turned as red as a tomato, or as something in an even darker shade.

“Thank you.” You finally mastered to look at him. But momentarily you wished you hadn’t done so.

In the broad daylight that shone through the large windows of the gallery, he looked even more beautiful than the last time you had seen him in person. He wore a cream-coloured suit with a white button-down shirt, which fitted his slim figure more than perfectly. With the better lighting you could easily spot the light freckles you adored so much. When your gaze finally travelled up to his face, you nearly forgot to breath for a second or two. His hair and the beard hadn’t changed but his smile left you weak and in awe.

It still was a miracle to you how someone could look that good.

“Still on vacation?” After fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, he put his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“Actually…no.” You smiled awkwardly and averted your gaze. “I’m hoping to get inspired by some of the paintings here, to be honest.”

For a brief instant, he remained silent, focussed on the artwork in front of the both of you again.

“And? Did it work?”

“That I don’t know yet.” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“Are you an artist?” A soft warmth filled your chest due to the genuine interest he showed. It made him all the more adorable.

“No… I mean, not really. It’s more like a hobby.” You bit your lower lip as you felt his gaze on you again.

“I like what you did with your hair, it looks rather nice. One can see your artistic giftedness through that.”

You hadn’t known that it was possible to blush even more. But you did.

“Sorry. Did I go too far?” Tom hurried to ask, obviously insecure himself now. Though you weren’t sure about that. It could have been his natural gentleman like behaviour as well.

“No! No, it’s fine, really… I…” You stumbled over your own words and paused to collect yourself again. “Thank you.”

“(Y/N), right?”

Oh god, he remembered your name! After three months he still knew how you were being called.

He strolled down the corridor in a slow pace, so you could easily keep up with his tempo. Considering the height difference, you still had to run.

“You are remembering my name.”

“Of course, I am. After all, I got this utterly beautiful anti-swearing squeaky toy from you. Which, I have to admit, is rather useful from time to time.” He didn’t tease you, quite the contrary. His voice sounded honest and candid.

“Is it really?” Your instinct told you to be careful about instantly believing in what he had said, but your heart nearly burst at the compliment, pounding too fast and loud in your chest.

“Yes, it is!” There it was. The excitement you had seen on him only in some of his interviews so far. Slightly childish, but in an absolute sweet and cute way.

“Don’t you get weird glances by your colleagues when you carry it around?”

“Sure. But that doesn’t matter. It’s important to keep on doing things that help you and that are good for you. That is why I don’t think that a squeaky toy that helps you deal with an urge to swear is in any way something strange or odd.”

At first you didn’t believe a word he said. No one (at least no one you knew) had told you something like that until that moment. Tom really was up for a lot of surprises.

“You’re the first one to say something like that. Usually everyone thinks I’m just odd.” Fumbling with said toy in the pocket of your jacket, you smiled when you both came to a stop in front of another painting. Sadly, your whole focus lay on Tom, now that you had finally met him again.

“Well, if they are defining odd, what is normal, then?”

A soft chuckle escaped you when you heard Tom say that. You thought of a witty response, but none came to your mind, so you stayed silent and observed his profile for a while. His perfectly shaped nose, the sharp outlines of his jaw, his Adam’s apple…God, that man was ideal.

Eventually, he did notice that you were staring at him and shifted, looking a bit nervous all of a sudden. You could tell he wasn’t uncomfortable by the way he slightly turned towards you, even leaning down a bit, and returned the look, a hint of amusement reflecting in his eyes.

You viewed the rest of the gallery in a peaceful silence, just here and there exchanging a few words about the paintings and your thoughts about them. It was amazing. You had never experienced something like that, even though you weren’t talking that much. For some strange reason, walking next to each other and relatively close to each other, felt really intimate at that moment.

“So, when are you leaving London again?” He turned around to face you, as you reached the exit of the art gallery.

“Today, probably.” You couldn’t cover up the slightly depressed undertone that was evidently audible in your voice.

He nodded, clearly fumbling for words.

“I was wondering if you might want to meet again? Maybe for dinner?”

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