TomTord oneshots

my first ever fluff shot!!

Tom doesn't ever get complimented, really. To his parents and friends, a simple "Good job," would suffice. His accomplishments of becoming a popular online writer was shrugged off by his friends. Being an all A student was nothing more than expected of him.

As edgy as all of that sounds, Tom never really minded. He didn't need to be showered in compliments; he just needed to know that people wanted more.

Eh, whatever.

Now, Tom sat in the living room, knees pressed against the floor. A pencil in hand and a notebook on the coffee table, Tom rapped his fingers to the beat of an electronic song pouring from his headphones. Quick sketches of characters littered the sides of the paper. While Tom couldn't draw like Edd could, he had spent some time on drawing basic shapes in order to design characters for his books.

Next to the notebook sat his laptop, the screen blinking in Google Docs. Paragraphs upon paragraphs were filled with world building, anatomy, and new animals for the fantasy world he created.

He sighed gently, switching the doc over to a new one. Words built a new story—the lore of Tom's world. He stared at the blinking cursor, where he had stopped mid sentence due to writer's block.

Ugh.

He placed his head against the coffee table, sighing.

This whole writing thing is hard.

"Time for a Smirnoff break," he mumbled to himself, standing and brushing off his jeans. He moved to the kitchen, tapping patterns against his leg as he passed through the open doorway.

"Evening," Tord mumbled as Tom passed him.

"Evening," Tom parroted right back. As much as he hated Tord, politeness is a habit.

Tord rolled his eyes, grabbing his phone from the counter and walking to the living room, leaving Tom alone.

Opening the fridge, Tom took out his precious Smirnoff bottle, sighing. He took out his flask from his pocket and filled it before returning the bottle to the fridge.

"Aye, Tom?" Tord called from the living room. "Can I read what's on your laptop?"

"It's pure trash, but sure," Tom call back, taking a swig of his alcohol. He tilted his head back and swallowed, basking in the afterglow of Smirnoff.

After the feeling faded away, Tom let out a deep sigh. He shook himself off before he headed back into the living room, one hand pressed against his forehead.

Tord sat on the couch, hand on the laptop's touchpad. He had his eyebrows furrowed in focus as he scrolled.

Rolling his eyes, Tom walked up and gently slapped the side of Tord's head. "Can you move?"

A glance. "Can I keep reading this? Cuz it's really good." Tord leaned forward a bit.

"I'd rather keep writing while I've still got it in my head," he replied, tilting his head.

Albeit hesitantly, Tord took his hands off Tom's laptop and shifted away. "You have got to let me read it when you're done," Tord said excitedly, looking down at Tom as the Brit sat. "That was seriously good. That one character—Ali, I think her name was? Yeah, she was awesome, and seriously well written. And, like, that one part? Where she was getting her ass kicked? That was a seriously well-written plot twist. God, that guy's reaction, and are... are you blushing?"

Tom let out a nervous laugh, followed by a scoff as he looked away to hide his red face. "N—ha—no," he stammered, laughing again as he pressed his hand against his burning cheek.