Tommy And Tubbo Matching Pfp の小説・ストーリー

Tommy headed over to one of the booths and I followed, with Alex at my back. I slid in one side and Alex slid in next to me, despite the disapproving look from Tommy. I rolled my eyes at him. I wasn’t upset with how close Alex was. The guy had filled out a little since I last saw him, but it was obvious that it was all muscle and his arms were decorated with what looked like Norse tribal tattoos. His dark hair was cut pretty close to his head, not completely shirt but not enough to grab when you… I blushed at the thought that popped into my head.

Tommy pointed out. Axel sighed. He replied, "I'll think about it. I have your number if I decide to go." "Fine. Think about it well. I'm giving away free spirits, the premium kind," Tommy proudly said with a smile. He paused and realized something. Pointing with his thumb, he said, "You know, the team got together today, coincidentally. You should meet them." "Really? Everyone?" Axel asked. "Yeah - well, not everyone, but most of the guys are here," Tommy said. "Oh, and ah, Tiffany and Enzo are there."

A small voice rose from the silence, catching our attention. All eyes turned to one of the tents as a small child with slick brown hair peeked his head from the side of the entrance. The kid gently pushed the curtain aside, only to run to Tommy who fell back to his knees. Embracing each other, I realized just how close the two really were. Tobby was also much younger than I first thought; the boy seemed to be around nine or ten years old, much too young to be out here all alone with these people.

A deep voice rumbled, “Damn, Bobby. How long you been busting your ass on this?” Bobby snorted and shook his head. Tommy Grummel was the biggest, hardest, toughest guy he knew . . . with a heart like a melted marshmallow. At 6’4 and 230 pounds he didn’t seem to realize he could crush anyone he wanted. Instead, he befriended everyone, especially all the other square pegs . . . losers . . . like Bobby who didn’t fit the world’s holes. Bobby didn’t think he could call anyone his best friend, but if push came to shove, he’d name Tommy.

What now we're grown up we can't have a best friend of a different gender? Tobes just grins and slurps his strawberry milkshake through his straw. One day he's going to turn into a strawberry milkshake, it's all he drinks. He needs to get out in the sunshine some more too, I think as I look at him with his pale skin, adorned with freckles. I suppose though with skin like that and high ginger hair, he'd probably burn in a few seconds flat. "Where's Tammy?" Asks Tate. "I thought we were meeting here here too?" She moves up some so I can sit next to her. I kind of like it. Like I said, we're pretty much joined at the hip.

Marcus asked. "Em, nothing. Just...something this punk told me" she answered and made to sit down. "I'm not a punk" Kane denied with an obvious frown. "What are you then, chap? Lad? Douche bag?" She grinned. "No my dear friend but you are obviously a frog." "Touché" she laughed "then get ready to croak with me tonight my dear friend because obviously, a frog only befriends a frog" she smirked. Kane wanted to counterattack but Grace cut in, "cut it out you two, we know you love each other no need flaunting it every time we are together."

Agatha is leaving. "Why should I say goodbye?" I stood idly by. Tommy's black hair was uproar, his forehead was sweaty, which caused some strands of hair to stick to her. He wore black jeans, a black t-shirt and wore a small piercing in the corner of his lower lip. A more or less large lightning-shaped tattoo stood out on his neck. Tommy was a bad boy. "Well, you're right." Did you like the song? It was especially for you. I shrugged my shoulders.

“With what? Told you we will talk.” “Not that and don’t bullshit me bitch. What’s up with the guy at Trust?” “He is a guy I know from somewhere.” “Doesn’t feel like so. Have you two banged?” “Tomboy got smashed?” Tim grins propping his elbows on the counter. “Just shut up Tim. This is a girl’s talk.” “Frankie shouldn’t be counted as a girl. She is a tomboy. Where is your cap by the way? Must admit you look good this way. You have great hair.”

That sharp, defined jawline slowly overlapped with the memory of the blushing, stammering, chubby kid who'd stood in front of me years ago. All the baby fat was gone. His features were carved and mature now, his skin clear, his frame tall and lean. He'd turned into the exact prototype from a teenage dream. "Guess chubby kids really are the ultimate glow-up," I mused. But just as the words left my mouth, Marty's petulant voice cut through the air right behind me. "Olivia. I'm hungry." My best friend turned around before I did. After seeing the chubby kid become a handsome guy, she felt like she'd missed her chance to know a hottie.

A basketball court, casual, the stranger mid-laugh at something off-camera, more relaxed, more present. The third one older, maybe two months back. This time he was front and center, arm slung around Damian's shoulders, grinning at the camera with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly how they looked. No tags on any of them. No name. I went to Damian's followers list, which was public because Damian was the kind of effortlessly social person who had no reason to be private, and scrolled until my thumb ached. Nothing. No face that matched. I tried his following list instead.