#where tom is like “ i fell in love with your sister”

[thegetdownrebooter]

Mmm I see what you mean, but it's just that I see cis girl Kendall as having a very different relationship with Logan from canon Kendall, where she doesn't really need saving from her dad so much because he doesn't give a shit about her compared to Roman and Shiv. So her motivation would be more the ache coming from that lack, and I don't think she'd be able to convince herself that she's fine without his love or approval like Connor.

That said, she would still try to be outwardly rebellious and independent and that's probably what a lot of her relationship with Stewy would involve, but it just wouldn't work out because she needs to feel valued by her family and he isn't willing enough to play those games and let them take over his life. And yeah, I think she'd be put off by Tom being a suckup, kinda hating him for the same reason she's with him. It's just a push and pull of conflicting interests and emotions.

intresting.... i agree her relationship with stewy would be doomed because he isn't willing to play those games and would want her to tell her old man who doesn't even like her that much to fuck off, but still i feel like she simply wouldn't be attracted to someone like tom?? like, in my gut i feel like cis girl ken would have doomed relationships with headstrong men who come from their own money and don't need logan's approval because it's something she isn't familiar with and probably finds appealing in them. The downside is that those guys will eventually try to convince her to leave her abusive father behind fr both for her own sake and because they want to start a life with her but that quickly is the the beginning of the end in those relationships because ken isn't able to do that.

The thing is i personally feel like she would be miserable in a peter/caroline and tomshiv situation like, she would simply send tom packing like with jennifer in canon after tom meets logan for the first time.

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Home to Thrive In

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: You still live next door to Tim Bradford's mother, and when he visits for the first time in years, you have to decide if you're willing to let go of the idea of him you fell in love with.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for 4x09 "Breakdown", angst, arguments, discussion of past abuse, r is Tim's childhood friend, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: It's late. This may be terrible. I will reassess tomorrow.

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Have you talked to Mom recently?” Genny asks. When Tim doesn’t answer, she sighs and murmurs, “Don’t know why I thought you would.”

“Isn’t it bad enough that you’re dragging me back into the Tom Bradford-centric world I’ve been trying to outrun since we were kids? Now you want me to tell Mom about everything that’s happened,” Tim argues. ���I’m already working on a murder case that Dad hid for decades. I don’t need more family drama right now, Genny."

“She worries about you, Tim. Just wants to be part of your life again.”

Tim's phone rings, a saving grace, and he excuses himself as he pushes his chair away from the table and leaves his sister.

“Tim,” Lucy greets. “I brought Monica Ochoa back in.”

“The woman who was killed by the gun I found in my dad’s house. Why?”

“Because I knew there was more to her story. You- you couldn’t see past the version that you wanted to see.”

“What’d she say?”

“Your dad… Tim, Monica confessed.”

Tim hangs up on Lucy, walks directly past his sister while ignoring her questions, and gets in his truck to visit his dad. To see if he’ll tell the truth when he has no other choice or if he’s really the terrible man Tim thinks he is.

“You didn’t kill Frank,” Tim states.

Tom sighs before he counters, “Sure I did. Now, come on. Cuff me. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Monica confessed.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close, and you needed to frame someone else.”

“He was brutal, abusive,” Tom explains. “She deserves a medal for what she did.”

“He was abusive?” Tim repeats.

“What? You think I’m like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You’re a man now because of me.”

“No. I’m who I am in spite of you,” Tim replies. His dad doesn’t speak, and Tim nods as he adds, “Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts.”

In the hallway outside his dad’s room, Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and calls Grey.

“Bradford,” Wade greets as the call connects.

“I need to take some personal time,” Tim says instead of a salutation.

“Lord knows you’ve stashed up enough of it. Where are you going?”

“To see someone I should’ve visited a long time ago.”

“You did the right thing, Tim. Take your time and know we’re here for you when you get back.”

Tim ends the call, then texts his sister that he’s taking her advice. He hasn’t been home to his mom’s house in years, and he needs her, needs space from his family and his station, and needs to work through the events of the week on his own. Though he isn’t sure if he’s welcome or if his mother's new home will feel the same as it did fifteen years ago, Tim gets in his truck and drives toward the last place he felt at home.

Your evening walk is refreshing, and the sunset helps you focus on the beauty of the day as you wind down.

“Sweetheart!” your neighbor calls, waving from her porch.

“Mrs. Bradford,” you greet with a smile as you step onto her walkway. “How are you today?”

“Good, good. Talked to Genny earlier, she’s visiting Tim.”

You smile and nod, unwilling to touch the sensitive subject of Tim. Growing up with him, you saw the worst parts of his childhood, home life, and father, but that never added up to you. He ran away from his mother, from love and home just to outrun bad memories. A task you know to be impossible.

“How was your book?” you ask, moving away from Mrs. Bradford’s stressful family life. “Did you finish it last night?”

“I did. You were right, the twist at the end was a shock. I thought the vigilante did it!”

“Interesting,” you muse. “I was torn between him and the builder.”

Mrs. Bradford hums before her oven beeps.

“You take care of that,” you say as you wrap your arms over her shoulders in a quick hug. “We’ll talk about the book and start the sequel on Saturday?”

“Count on it. Have a good night!”

“You too!”

Headlights reflect off your front door as you push it open, but you don’t bother to turn around and see who it is. Two of your neighbors get home around this time, and there aren’t many visitors or tourists in your area. So, when you’re closing the curtains and notice an unfamiliar truck in Mrs. Bradford’s driveway, you decide to watch and ensure everything is okay.

“Tim!” Mrs. Bradford calls excitedly as the driver’s door opens. She rushes out and pulls him into a hug, and from the way he grips her and buries his face against her shoulder like he’s eight again, you know that this isn’t just a sorry I stopped calling, Mom visit. Something happened and that’s the only reason he’s home.

“Welcome home, Tim,” you whisper before you pull the curtains together and put the distance you’re used to back between you and Tim.

You kneel by your front door to tie your shoes. Then you untie them and loop the laces differently. Knowing that Tim Bradford is next door makes you hesitate to go outside. Yet, you don’t want to let him impact your life more than he already has. It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that his mother already told him about your downward spiral, how you fell apart when he left without so much as a word. As a kid, you fell in love with Tim Bradford, and you stayed in love with the idea of him in high school. Then, when he disappeared without a word or trace, and you only found out that he was a cop for the LAPD through his sister, you decided that the idea of him was as good as you would ever get.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself as you stand and lay your hand on the doorknob. “It’s just the man who has occupied your every thought for years. Just walk by.”

The magnitude of your mistake hits you in full force when you’re nearly past Mrs. Bradford’s fence. Tim says your name and your heart clenches at the realization that you remembered his voice so well. Years of hearing it in your dreams will preserve your memory like that.

“Tim,” you reply, swallowing as you face him. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“It wasn’t exactly the plan. Genny showed up and everything just kind of blew up in my face.”

Kind of like what you put me through, you think. Rather than saying it, you nod sympathetically.

“Did my mom… did she tell you about my dad?”

“Tim, your mom tells me a lot. But no one close to your mom has brought him up in years.”

“Wish my sister had gotten that message,” Tim scoffs.

“I hope you enjoy the time with your mom,” you interrupt. “But I’ve got to get going.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “I’ll see you around.”

You nod but feel your chest tighten as you hope he’s wrong. Losing Tim Bradford again is not an option, so you refuse to let him closer than he needs to be.

“I didn’t know she moved with you, still lived next door,” Tim muses as his mother ushers him inside for breakfast.

“You don’t know much,” she points out, not unkindly but not untrue. “She knows more than you. I’ve told her everything Genny passed along. You were so close as kids.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees before he trails off. He remembers being friends, but not the kind of friends that would ask about each other. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“Well, you can hardly blame her.”

“What does that mean?”

Tim’s mother looks at him and presses her lips together. He has her eyes, but he doesn’t have her understanding or the intuition about people she tried to instill in him when his father wasn’t trying to teach him to be a man.

“If you can’t see it, Tim, it’s too late to explain it. She’s coming over for lunch and our duet book club tomorrow. You have thirty hours to read the book if you want to participate.”

“Thank you for letting me come home, Mom.”

She lays her hand on Tim’s shoulder and promises, “You’re always welcome here, Timothy.”

You knock on Mrs. Bradford’s door while Tim’s truck is gone. With one of her signature ceramic loaf pans in your hands, filled with your favorite cookies, you wait for the door to open to return her dish and offer some goodies.

“Sorry to…” you begin as the door opens. “Oh, Tim. Sorry, your truck was gone so I assumed your mom would be here.”

“She borrowed my truck to do something that she refused to have help for. Come on in.”

Tim opens the door for you, and for reasons beyond your comprehension, you accept his invitation and walk inside. After you set the pan on the counter, you turn around to leave, but Tim is leaning against the table and watching you.

“Enjoying your time off?” you question, wringing your fingers together behind your back.

“I am. Especially after the last case I worked on,” Tim answers. “My mom hasn’t told me much about you.”

You hum and look at your feet as you reply, “Not much to tell.”

“She seems to tell you a lot.”

“Look, Tim, I’m just trying to respect your boundaries. She told me that your dad was involved in something, a murder, but it’s not my business.”

“Frank Ochoa,” Tim interjects.

You furrow your brows as you ask, “Monica’s husband? But that was a robbery.”

Tim tilts his head to the side as he says, “My dad admitted to killing him. He was protecting Monica.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Tim stands from the table, his crossed arms falling to his sides. “You knew something and didn’t tell anybody, didn’t you?”

“Tim, I-“

“Look, I’ve been lied to by too many people this week. You still have the same tell you did in elementary school. What did you know?”

You clench your jaw and step to the right to go around Tim, but he moves to block you, and rather than running into his chest, you retreat further into Mrs. Bradford’s kitchen.

“This case – the people there – have been lied to, we’ve been wrong, there’s been no justice for decades. And you’ve known something the whole time? How can you live with that?”

“How can I live with it?” you repeat incredulously. “How was I – a child, Tim – supposed to go to the police and tell them that I saw Frank beating Monica over and over? They wouldn’t have believed me!”

“You didn’t try!”

“Yes, I did!” you yell. Wiping the single tear that managed to escape in your memories of the only time you tried to help your neighbors, you lose some of your fight.

“Doesn’t seem like you tried very hard,” Tim adds under his breath.

You laugh once and shake your head. “I told the police your dad was beating you, Tim. You know what happened? They came and asked him about it. He denied everything. After they left, he took you out into the backyard and demanded to know who you told. So, see if you can wrap your cop brain about why I was scared to tell on someone else.”

“I didn’t know you-“

“You didn’t know anything, Tim.”

Tim scoffs and argues, “Oh and you know so much about who I am now because of what my sister tells my mom?”

“At least I talk to your mom, Tim,” you snap. Immediately, you regret it. “I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I couldn’t,” Tim defends.

“Did you try?”

Tim’s truck rumbles as his mother returns from the store, and you hold Tim’s stare until the engine shuts off.

“Can I leave now, or do you want to blame me for something else?”

Tim steps back and opens his mouth, but you storm past him before he can say anything else. You return to your house after you hug Mrs. Bradford and tell her about the cookies. The idea of Tim Bradford that you’ve clung to since childhood is growing fuzzy around the edges, and alone in your house, you cry over what he told you today, the mistakes you made, and the loss of the Tim you were born to love.

Someone knocks on your door the following morning, and you stare at it rather than walking toward it.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” Mrs. Bradford calls.

With a sigh, you stand and invite her in, not caring if she notices your teary eyes or unusual attitude.

“I thought you might want someone to talk to. Somewhere away from my son,” she explains as she leads you to your dining table. “So, I brought food and company. Choose what you want.”

“It’s not just Tim,” you explain. “I mean… he was right, but it’s different.”

“Different than when you fell in love with him?” she guesses.

You look up at her, wide-eyed at her question. She smiles and gestures for you to continue.

“I’ve been dreaming about him coming back, thinking that we could pick up where we left off, but he’s nothing like what I remember.”

“Time will do that,” she soothes, taking your hand over the table.

“It didn’t do it to me.”

“Sweetheart… you didn’t let it. I love you, you know that, but you cling so tightly to the past, to the familiar, that you haven’t allowed yourself to adapt to the beauty of the growth and changes around you. Haven’t even let yourself show the woman you’ve become.”

You lick your lips before sniffling and asking, “What if I don’t like it?”

“But what if you thrive in it?”

Wiping the back of your free hand across your face, you clear your tears and nod. You know that Mrs. Bradford is right, but you also know that there will be pain in the beauty when you choose to move forward.

“Does he hate me?” you whisper.

“Timothy? I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

“He can sure blame me for a lot, though,” you point out with a wet laugh.

“Beating himself up over that at the moment, if you’re wondering. And, when you’re ready to talk to him, maybe you should try getting to know who he is today.”

You nod and pull a homemade candy from her special-made meal. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, are we going to keep crying over silly boys or try to solve a murder mystery on a pioneer plantation?”

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you shift from foot to foot on Mrs. Bradford’s porch as you try to get your courage up. Just as you lift your hand to knock, a throat clears behind you. You spin around quickly, then release a breath and press your hand over your racing heart.

“You could have told me you were back there sooner,” you point out softly.

“I wanted to see where this was going,” Tim answers, closing his tailgate. “Listen, about the other day-“

You raise your hand to silence Tim and shake your hand. “I came over here to talk to you. About more than that. Do you maybe want to go somewhere to do that?”

Tim nods and opens the passenger door of his truck, offering his hand as he helps you in without a word. The drive to the local high school football field is quick but silent, and when you exit the truck and join Tim on the tailgate to watch the sunset, you take a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that with your dad, the house, Frank, all that,” you begin. “But I’m sorrier that I didn’t do more back then.”

Tim nods and says, “You were right. They wouldn’t have listened, or it would’ve spooked my dad and made everything worse.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” You look at Tim’s profile and ask, “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admits without hesitation. “My dad was protecting Monica. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress – broke half a dozen laws for her.”

“I knew that, too,” you whisper. “My mom made me stop sitting by the door after that year, which was probably a good thing. Uhm, are they going to prosecute your dad?”

“No. Not on his death bad. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll get judged soon enough.”

You nod, your eyes still on Tim rather than the pink sunset before you. His eyes have teared up, and everything inside of you begs for you to just let go.

“Tim, you’re nothing like him. You know that, right?”

Tim nods a tiny movement that breaks your heart. This isn’t the Tim you remember, not the Tim from elementary school or the one who was punished for your ill-conceived attempt to help. Most importantly, you realize, this isn’t the Tim you’ve dreamed of loving. Tim Bradford, the man before you, is who you can love, want to love, and desperately, wholly, devastatingly need to love.

With a deep breath, you release everything you’ve been holding onto. Your grip on your dreams, on your memory of Tim and what you thought you wanted, and the moment that trapped you in your position of being terrified to do the wrong thing in your efforts to do good weakens, and you feel like a flower in bloom. Everything seems new, the possibilities are endless, and you’re a new person who isn’t afraid to do right, even when it terrifies you and carries the potential to break your heart.

“Tim,” you whisper.

He turns toward you, drawn by the tone in your voice, and blinks past his tears. You shift on his tailgate and raise your arms toward his shoulders. Tim leans forward and meets you halfway, pulling you into his lap as you collapse into a hug that heals the broken edges of who you are. With Tim’s arms against your back and waist, you feel more at home than ever, and he feels the same. His mother’s house was never the home he was returning to, but a pursuit for this feeling, right in your arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur against his shoulder.

He shakes his head, tightening his grip on you, and this version of you - unafraid, complete in Tim Bradford’s arms - is ready to thrive. You won’t heal overnight; neither of you will, but it’s a start.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Tim laughs against your neck before he pulls back gently to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“My mom,” he tells you. “If you haven’t kissed her yet, what are you waiting for? Another set of wrinkles?”

You fail to stop the laugh that escapes at Mrs. Bradford’s bluntness. Then, you realize how glad you are that he’s reading her text messages.

“Well?” you ask. “Should we kiss or wait for more wrinkles?”

Tim pushes a stray hair out of your face and promises, “None of it was your fault.”

You nod and thank him, then brush your thumbs against his cheeks. “Last time we were on a field together, it was raining. I also wanted you to kiss me then.”

“You never told me.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that, Tim?” you ask. “I… I was caught up in an idea of who we could be, and I was scared to ruin it by doing something new.”

“And now?”

Rather than asking for what you want, you take it as you lean forward and kiss Tim. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, and the first raindrop feels suspiciously like a teardrop as it runs down your face and onto Tim’s. You laugh as you run toward the truck doors, thunder rumbling as a storm approaches from the west. In the truck with Tim, you find yourself face-to-face with a better version of the dream life you craved in Tim’s absence.

Bonus:

“Get inside, it’s going to start raining again!” Mrs. Bradford calls from the kitchen when she hears the door open. “Don’t need you catching a cold on your time off, Timothy.”

You press your lips together and smile at Tim, who is drenched after offering you his jacket to hold over your head in a poor attempt to stay somewhat dry.

“She’s going to mother you, too,” he points out.

“Hey, I’m used to it,” you reply. “Like it, even.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bradford murmurs as she appears in the doorway. “Go get dried off and change, Tim.”

After he disappears into his room, Mrs. Bradford offers you a towel and a change of clothes. She smiles as she leans in and says, “Flowers that thrive need plenty of rain to grow, you know.”

[loggiepj]

lizzie

Summary: just an angsty one shot story 😂✌🏳️‍🌈

"TOM SAID she had been using Rooney to gain more credits to her work, always insisting to come along Rooney when she's in film productions, pretending she was only supporting her then girlfriend just so she could give her scripts to producers. And she did this while cheating on her behind her back."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from bursting into tears, hand on your chest, slipping to your collarbone then up to your neck as you willed yourself to breathe.

"That's awful," you heard Lizzie's beautiful voice slurring through the confines of the comfort room, through the door of the cubicle you were trapped in. "I can't believe she could do such a thing. She was so sweet and all, I thought . . . I thought—"

"Oh, we thought so too, Liz," another person chimed in, "but don't be easily fooled. I heard Rooney's lawyer will be filing a case against her sometime soon."

Your other hand went to embrace yourself, clutching against the side of your sweater as you might lose it.

"It was a risk on the producer's part to still include her in this film," said another, "knowing her reputation."

In the following silence, you could hear Elizabeth's sigh. "God, I wouldn't have known."

It was complete torture, having to listen through it all, having to witness how someone you had grown close to in the past few weeks could crush you down in an instant. Five minutes and thirty seven seconds, to be exact.

As if the gods above had acknowledged you had suffered enough, they eventually left the comfort room and began discussing about the next scenes as they walked through the door.

When you heard the door shut close, you broke down. The kind of cry where you seemed to be running out of air to breathe, as if you had been clawing your insides until there's nothing left. You didn't think it was possible to cry for someone like this. You felt like a kid, but you couldn't wail louder since anyone could just walk into the toilet.

The gossips you had endured during highschool, about you being gay, had nothing in comparison to what just happened. Especially the one who was involved was someone special to you. And it felt worse coming from her. To think that Lizzie would actually believe them, believe the rumors circulating about you. To think that she could be different from others. But you'd thought wrong.

It all started with Rooney. She was an actress you fell in love with when you got to work with her and Tom in Carol movie. You had been together with Rooney for almost six years. And yet for one simple action, a drunk crewmate kissing you on the lips inside the producer's room, mistaking you as his girlfriend, Rooney threw everything.

It was all one big misunderstanding. One night, you were just making love. The next, you weren't allowed to enter the penthouse you were both staying, considering Rooney owned that unit and you gave up yours when you moved in with her.

Her sister, Kate, the ever merciful one, contacted you afterwards the sudden eviction, saying that she would try to persuade Rooney to be at least forgiving to let you stay for the meantime while you were looking for another place to live.

But that didn't happen. After that incident, rumors of you cheating started to spread around in the industry, some were exaggerated to give that appeal. And no one trusted you anymore, that you would only use people to your own benefit.

If you weren't only friends with the director of the current film you were working with, you wouldn't have any project.

And then you met Elizabeth Olsen.

You can call me Lizzie, by the way, was what she said when the two of you first talked.

Lizzie had a very distinctive and elegant appearance. She had fair skin, light brown hair, and expressive eyes that were usually a striking green. She was almost an inch taller than you, but if she wore heels, you'd always look up to her whenever the two of you were talking.

You knew her from her massive role as Wanda Maximoff in Marvel Universe films, and you even used to idolize her as someone who's good in everything, no matter what genre the film she was in.

And you both just instantly clicked, like you were made for each other. You could talk to her for hours and hours through the production days, either before the filming would start, during breaks or at the end of the day. She would also share everything to you, with enthusiasm to your mutual interests, as if you were long-time friends. She looked at you without judgment, making you wonder if she knew about the rumors, the one thing that could destroy this newfound promising relationship. Knowing Lizzie wasn't into social media and stuff was what kept you asleep most nights.

You had even asked her to a date that weekend and you both enjoyed it to the fact that she almost invited you inside her nearby apartment when you gave her a ride home. There was this kind of feeling you feel whenever she was around, sometimes butterflies, sometimes longing.

But everything crumbled down when a newcomer saw the two of you flirting with each other.

YOU SPLASHED some cold water into your face as you prepared yourself to face the outside world, hoping it wasn't that obvious that you were just crying seconds ago.

When you went back to the studio to get some work done, you saw Lizzie on one corner practicing some lines with her co-star.

Maybe you were only overthinking it. Maybe she would see you through, talk to you about it, listen to your side of the story. But when you approached them, they only went silent.

"Hey," you greeted, trying to diminish any awkwardness.

"Hi Y/n," Lizzie replied with a smile, "we're just quickly rehearsing for the next scene."

"Oh, okay, sorry to bother you both," you said, "I'll just talk to you later then."

She only smiled back as she went back to her script. You would have just let it go if it weren't for the fact that she would always choose to talk to you.

LATER was no different as you went to knock against the door of her trailer upon hearing Lizzie's laughter inside. Abruptly, the laughters died, and you swore you could hear shushing. When her friend opened the door the second time you knocked, said friend only told you Lizzie wasn't in there even when you knew she was.

THROUGH the days that followed, it was slowly sinking in that maybe they got her too. That Lizzie believed them too.

You tried to give Lizzie the benefit of the doubt. That maybe she was only busy, knowing the most critical scenes were being shot. But you had probably sent her a lot of messages to which Lizzie had only replied words fewer and bland as compared to the older ones she had sent you.

WHEN you tried to approach Lizzie during one of the breaks, surprising her with your favorite cheesecake she said she liked, she thanked you rather hurriedly.

"Thanks, Y/n," she said. "You shouldn't have."

"It's fine," you said back, brushing her off as she tried to return the box to you. "I was in the area earlier when I passed by the store, and I remembered you wanting to eat another slice of it."

What was redness that you used to see adorned on Lizzie's cheeks, was inexistent as she hesitantly accepted the gift. You could tell she was sporting a smile you had seen her do whenever she was uncomfortable during interviews.

It gave you the kick to stop whatever this was you were doing. You then decided not to torture her anymore with how forward you were. It was clear she didn't want anything to do with you. That you were just mere friends in passing. That that date was only that. Nothing more.

"Lizzie!" someone called her from afar, apparently saving her from this awkward interaction. Saving you both.

"Shoot, sorry, Y/n," she said with an apologetic smile. "I have to leave, but thank you again for this. You're too sweet for this world."

You forced a huge smile her way. "Yeah, no worries. See you later."

BUT YOU had avoided her later. You had avoided them. And through the days that followed, you began distancing yourself from the cast and crew, knowing now what they had been talking behind your back. You just went to the studio to help work with the script then went back straight home. No more small talks in the hallway as you passed by them, occasionally wearing a hoodie over your face, wishing it was Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.

At nights, you stared at the photos of the two of you together during production and even that one dinner date you had at a private restaurant, wondering how two individuals went from these to complete strangers.

You couldn't help but wonder if Lizzie has missed you at all. But when you glanced at her from a distance whenever you couldn't avoid not coming to the studio, laughing and making vlog with her co-stars and makeup artists, you could feel she was glad she dodged a bullet that was you. That she almost went out with someone like you, someone who couldn't be trusted.

You had even stopped eating your favorite cheesecake, knowing it would only remind you of her. Lesson learned. Never suggest your favorites to anyone.

THAT was when you started hanging out with Emma Watson, whom you had gotten closer as you were part of her writing crew in another film you were working for.

She had well defined cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes. But what stood out the most was her English accent. Sometimes, you just wanted to listen to her talk all day.

Emma already knew the rumors about you, and called them bullshit. Maybe it was the British in her, but she told you she didn't care about anyone's past other than first impressions. Besides, if she weren't a fan of your works, she wouldn't have given a chance to know you.

When she revealed to you she liked girls too, you grew more comfortable around her.

You also started to make friends with the other film's crew, and maybe that was what you needed, what you were missing. You no longer felt sad or lonely whenever you were around them. And having to fit two jobs in a day, it felt different having something to look forward to whenever you finished working for Lizzie's film. Good kind of different.

"WAIT, you're already leaving? Are you not going with us?" your director friend asked the moment he saw you packing things up, preparing to leave.

"What do you mean?"

"Liz invited the whole cast and crew for a housewarming party at her new house," he replied.

You had no idea but who were you to receive first invitation from her in the first place. You were a nobody.

"Oh I . . . I actually am needed to get this edit reviewed," you said, easily making up an excuse. Although technically, it wasn't a lie.

"That's a bummer. I was pretty sure Liz said to invite you too." He sighed. "Well, don't work yourself too hard, Y/n."

You only smiled back as you left, staying out of sight from others, keeping distance away from the lobby where you could see the whole cast chatting as they waited for the car service to get to Lizzie's house. And for a brief moment, you caught sight of the woman who once captured your heart, broke it and left to rot. Elizabeth looked so beautiful and fresh even after a day's production, and she was wearing that jacket she stole from you that very first day.

"HAVE you ever loved someone?"

You had been staring at your notifications, watching for what seemed like hours at Lizzie's messages asking where you were and why you weren't at her housewarming party.

You didn't even noticed Emma had asked you a question until she nudged your shoulder.

"Sorry, what?" you asked, slipping your phone into your pocket.

"I asked if you've ever loved someone? Any lovers? Girlfriends? Boyfriend? Flings?" she asked teasingly, "It's just I haven't seen you around with anyone."

"I mean, you've heard the rumors—"

"Fuck all the rumors, I'm not blind, Y/n," Emma interrupted. "You're actually gorgeous. It could cause a scandal."

Avoiding the girl's gaze, you laughed at her. "What are you suggesting?"

There was complete silence, making you look back at Emma deep in thoughts.

"What do you say about you becoming my girlfriend?"

"What?"

"It's just for PR stuff and all," she reasoned. "And for promoting this movie."

"Promoting? They'd hate you. They'd hate me more."

"At least, it would be a distraction from the public. I haven't actually come out as gay but I've provided signs, yet people just turn a blind eye. And this will help confirm my sexuality. If they hated me for dating the rumored you, they'd hate me less for being gay."

You fell silent as you thought about it.

"My PR manager will pay you, of course. You're saving up for a house, right? I want to help you."

Then she looked at her hands on her lap, nervous. "Besides, you're the only one I felt comfortable doing this with." She then glanced back at you. "So . . . Are you with me?"

WHEN you started going out with Emma publicly, the photos of you together holding hands in public immediately spread through the news and gossip channels. You started to become famous, more on the bad side though, of how you were only using Emma again for your selfish reasons and how stupid Emma was for dating you.

At least, there were only a few articles about how disappointed they were Emma turned out to be gay. People were more disappointed she was dating a parasite.

IT WAS almost a month after when you received a missed call from your ex girlfriend Rooney. And she had called you multiple times until you blocked her number. And when she figured out you blocked her, she sent you numerous emails.

Emma was with you as you anxiously worked through the next scene's script.

"You okay?" Emma asked, her hand on your shoulder made you jump on your seat. "Sorry."

"It's okay," you managed to reply.

"What are you worrying about?"

You hesitated, frown growing deeper. "It's just . . . I think my ex girlfriend will finally end my career."

"How?"

"She's going to file a case against me," you said, almost in tears.

"Is that what you think she's going to do?" She chuckled softly.

"What are you giggling about? It's not funny."

"Sorry," she went on still laughing, "but you have to see this."

Apparently, Rooney had posted a public apology addressed to you, clearing you out, redeeming your image, and admitting it was her jealousy that ended your relationship, that she was willing to destroy her career in exchange for yours. And that she wanted so badly to talk to you if you'd only let her.

It felt like a relief as you saw the ones who reposted the post, as you read the comments from people defending you and supporting you, that Emma was a better choice than Rooney. It felt like the weight of the world was taken off your shoulder.

Emma then wrapped her arms around you as you sobbed into her chest. And she only let you.

Some weeks later, Emma asked you out on a date. A real date, saying she was willing to try. Maybe it was Rooney's post that made her trust you. Maybe she was just scared. But you also wanted to try it with her.

Rooney eventually stopped contacting you. The damage has already been done. One day, you may be able to forgive her. But never to forget.

MAYBE the public apology was what made Lizzie finally approached you during the last few days in the production. She brought you a gift, the cheesecake that used to be your favorite. Now, you didn't like how too sweet it was, wanting nothing more than to savor Cornish pasty introduced by your girlfriend Emma.

"Hey, Y/n," she greeted. "I . . . I brought you this."

"Thank you, Lizzie," you said, accepting with haste.

There was awkward silence as she placed her hands inside the pockets of her jeans. "Last day, huh? You want to go for sushi later? My treat."

And maybe it really was the public post Rooney made that made her finally talk to you, as if she was still the same person she was the first time you met. And as if you were still interested in her as you were months ago.

"Sorry, I have to meet Em for dinner tonight," you said, smiling apologetically.

"It's fine, it's fine," she said, brushing you off with a forced chuckle. "So, it's true you two are dating, huh?"

You nodded, avoiding the brunette's gaze. "Yeah, it is."

"She doesn't know how lucky she is."

You paused, wondering why you were no longer feeling any butterflies in your stomach whenever she was around. "I'm the lucky one, actually. Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"G-Goodnight, Y/n."

Like you said, the damage was already done.

[lilbitdepressed27]

Mable/Fem!Reader implied g!p

Warnings: angst, violence, death

WC: 4.2k

Author’s Note: sorry for any mistakes

*This will be connected to another fic*

Going with Charlie was the best decision you made. You knew your older brother Tommy would complain but her was your older half brother you knew he would give in. As much as he was a hard head and a bit of a jackass. He always had a soft spot for you and Charlie. More you since you were his little sister.

You always loved going to work with your older brother. Catching fish and being in the middle of the ocean. Was something you had enjoyed since you were little. Tom's dad Jay always let you tag along even when your dad would get mad. It was something you loved doing.

"Tommy!" You shouted, your excitement of seeing your big brother overflowing. It had been almost a year since you last seen your brother. You had just finished your second year of college. With you going to college to be a Marine Biologist. You were busy, but four long years of sleepless nights, long days of studying you were free of all that stress.

You didn't give your brother the chance to react before you basically barreled into him. His laugh being cut off as you both fell.

"Get off me, you little shit. I swear you get taller every single damn time I see you."

Helping him you he hugged you properly.

*

You helped your brother on the boat where ever you could. The days you spent on the ocean had been long but exciting. You absolutely adored the sea. Another thing you loved to do was to take pictures or making film. The amount of pictures you've taken in just the days spent on the boat, it had been a lot. The day Harmony went down had been the scariest thing that's ever happened to you.

You had been in the bathroom, using Rocky's bathroom to shower and freshen up. As much as you loved being on the boat. You absolutely hated not showering. So you always tried your best to stay clean. By the time your were finished you had stepped back into the bar to hear your dad arguing with your brother.

"—Excuse me?"

"Dad I'm going back. I'm going back to sea. I as soon as we get another—."

You heard them continue to argue before the sound of a girls voice interrupted both of them.

"Hey, these boys almost drowned last night. You should be hugging your boy, not yelling at him."

You stepped from the corner to see your dad glaring at Charlie. "Dad?" Sharing a look with Charlie and Tom. More with Charlie seeing as it was your father after all.

"Y/n are you going to continue doing this? Instead of accepting that job that was basically put into your hands."

You scoffed remembering about the said job. "You're kidding right? They were complete assholes. Not to mention the pay was a joke. At least with Tom and his crew, I have more free range with my work. If you could just look at the pictures I've take-Call your mother she's worried sick. I'm late for a meeting." You didn't even have a chance to get out your camera before he walked out of the bar.

You looked down at the camera bag that was still a bit wet. But thankfully the camera it self was still dry and working.

"Hey Y/n your pictures are fucking awesome. They make all of us look so badass." Costa reassured. Taking in how sad you had gotten. As a father to be himself he couldn't imagine talking to his kid like that.

Nunes was quick to jump in, "Yea, especially the videos. I can't wait for all that editing stuff you said you'd do."

Tom handed you a beer as the girl spoke up.

"I'd like to see your pictures if you don't mind."

The small smile, that looked more like a smirk was what you got. She was absolutely gorgeous. The smile was a bit more gentle the longer she looked at you. "Sure." You took out your camera. Ignoring the teasing smiles of Charlie and the boys.

The short brunette was by your side in seconds. Pulling you to the empty couch, sitting quite close to you. "What was your name again?"

"Mable and you're Y/n. So you gonna show me those pictures."

*

While Tom and Charlie went to go see something about the boat. You stayed behind at the bar. Telling Tom you wanted to stretch your legs and you'd walk to his house. So with a nod he was off with Charlie.

You didn't make it far from the bar before Mable was by your side. "So where we headed?"

With a smile of your own you nudged her with your elbow, seeing as she was that close. Not that you minded, in just a short time you were quite comfortable with Mable. "You tell me, you're the local here. I feel like you know all the good places."

With your camera around your neck, you always took up the opportunity to take the perfect pictures. With an absolutely beautiful woman to your side. She came out in a lot pictures.

"Of course I do. But in order for you to see all these great places of mine, I need to know if you're ready to do everything I ask."

You tired to keep the warmness in your cheeks at bay at the way Mable was looking at you. Her confidence and straight forwardness was something you had to get used to.

It just a short amount of time, you and Mable bonded. Was it moving a bit fast. Yes, others might think so. But you've never met someone that made you feel so much. Mable was like that breath of fresh air. She was amazing, smart, cunning and not mention absolutely beautiful. "Mmh maybe."

With a short laugh, she took your hand and lead you to god knows where. But you happily followed. Completely trusting her.

*

Meeting Mable was such highlight. She had been quite persistent to be near you. And you welcomed it. You loved spending time with her. You arrived at Costas party with your brothers. Leaving your already packed bag in Tommy's truck. You always preferred to pack days before going to work with Tommy. Unlike your brother Charlie who always packed at the last second.

"Hey."

You had been refilling your drink when Mable arrived at the party. Mable couldn't get enough of you. She had spent all day yesterday with you and she planned to do the same today. There was just something about you that had her feeling so free, so much. You were like a breath of fresh air. The way you looked at her with that cute smile on your face had her feeling so much. All she wanted was to kiss you.

The smile that made her feel like she was on cloud nine, she could only imagine what it would feel like to kiss you. She was never too afraid to get what she wanted. And she wanted you. She'd make sure you knew that.

"Hi Mable." You filled her cup with some beer.

You spent the rest of the party with Mable. When she asked you to go with her, you were embarrassingly quick to agree. Telling Tom and Charlie if they could take your bag and camera onto the boat. Charlie had told you not to worry. While Tom had said to be on the boat by 8:00 am.

"So where we-Mable can you give me a ride." You were cut off by Skeemo who was swaying a bit from how much he had drank. You bit back a laugh as he stumble a bit on his feet.

"Threes a crowd, find your own ride."

"Come on, I can't feel my legs and it's not that far."

With a look directed at you she sighed and moved to push the front seat forward. The drive was quiet. You liked Skeemo he was funny and he also welcomed you and Charlie on to the crew with no open arms. But you couldn't deny that you wanted to spend your time with Mable, alone.

"Alright thanks, oh and Tom doesn't like when we're late so. 8 am sharp."

Meting Mable's mom hadn't been planned but you also knew Mable was in the 'drug business' she didn't do the drug but she did sell it. And you didn't judge. After that awkward conversation with said mother, you did have to voice out that you did like Mable and weren't planning to hit and run.

You stopped Mable's fast paced out of the apartment complex. Stopping her on the side walk. "Hey, you do know that I'm not going to do that, right? I like you Mable. A lot. And if you'd like, and interested of course wanna go on a date with me?"

A small smile was directed your way, this was the first time you saw her vulnerable. Her eyes held so much emotions. You felt like you could read her so well. It was a little scary. It hasn't been a full 48 hours since you've met Mable but yet it felt like you were old friends. You couldn't explain it but there was something about Mable that made you feel like she was, your other half? It was weird but yet you couldn't explain it any other way.

"You're such an idiot, of course I want to. My mom she's...I don't want that. I want to give myself a shot, I want to make the most out of myself, my life and I'm not sure how I'm going to do it but I know that I can." Mable had wanted nothing more than to just get out of this town. To move on live life. Go to college. But it was hard. She needed money and easy money is faster. Which was why she did what she did.

"I know you can Mable. Granted I've only known you for less than fourth eight hours but in this short time I know you have a way to do and accomplish what ever that pretty mind sets its mind to. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise, okay?"

Mable couldn't look away from your eyes. The way they held so much certainty and confidence in her, made her feel so warm inside. Never did she have some who believed in her so much. "Okay."

"Okay," you nodded a smile placed on your face. "Come on then." You began to walk in the direction you hoped led to the car.

Mable couldn't help the smile nor the chuckle that escaped her lips. "My car is this way."

*

Mable's apartment was small but yet perfect. The area was filled with little things that just fit Mable perfectly. The stack of books on the coffee table, the books that were neatly on the small book shelf. The place was dark but yet the lights that did light up the place made the place warm.

"It's not much but it's home."

You smiled as you shook your head, "Not it's perfect."

Mable couldn't deny that she absolutely loved having you in her space. You had been the first and only to ever set foot in her small apartment. Your presence made her feel, complete? Which was crazy and a bit scary. Yet she wasn't stopping it. You weren't wrong, she did have a way to get what she wanted. And right now. Right now she wanted you.

*

You felt light kisses being placed on your neck, the weight of Mable's body felt so comfortable on your side. The sensation of her lips on your skin, it was something you certainly could get used to. The feeling of a warm hand smoothing over your bare stomach. The said hand continued it's journey down,

"You're asleep but the rest of you is awake."

The fogginess of your sleep, faded as Mable continued. "You like me Y/n?"

"Yea." You flipped her over, so you were now on top. Leaning down, taking her lips in yours. The kisses becoming more heavy and filled with lust.

"Like me a little lower."

You weren't one to disagree, kissing your way down. just before you could continue the sound of Mable's phone interrupted you. "Who's calling you so early?"

Mable absolutely loved having you between her legs. The sight was something she could get used to. The pleasure you had her go through last night had been the best she ever had. But the sound of her phone had been a the literal cock block. Running her fingers through your smooth hair "It's not that early."

You felt yourself quickly sit up, "what?"

"I put cardboard on the windows. I like the darkness."

You stumbled quickly out of the bed, almost tripping over the blankets as you tore down the cardboard from the window.

"Fuck. No no. No." You dressed as quickly as you could as Mable spoke with Skeemo, who had been the one calling her.

In a matter of seconds you were in Mable's car as she speed off. With what felt like your heart in your throat as the car picked up speed you reached over Mable.

With her eyes on road Mable felt your arm going across her lap. "Wh-what are you doing?" A soft click was her answer, a smile making it's way on her lips. "Really?"

"What? Safety first." You shrugged with a smile as you also put only your seat belt.

"Dork." She said as she took a sharp turn.

"There's actually something I wanted to talk you about. Community college? Do you think that's stupid or smart."

Your hand was clutching the handle on the car door at the sharp turn leading to the dyke. "What?"

"I've been wanting to go but I'm not-Mable you are smart, and you can do whatever your beautiful mind sets on doing. You can do it, not that it matters but I believe in you." The smile you got in return made you feel like you won the lottery. Her hand taking your shirt into a fist as she brought you into a quick kiss.

"Trust me, it matters. Now go! Good luck!" She shouted as you ran down the dyke. Jumping into the water as your brother and the boys cheered you on.

*

Being on the sea for ten days was as you could expect. You learned a lot about how to catch clams. The pictures you've taken so far had you excited to show Mable once you got back. The humpbacks you had seen had you extremely excited to capture those beautiful animals on film.

Skeemo taught you a few things and your older brother Tommy taught you how to drive the boat. You loved these moments with the team. Not only were you learning so much about fishing you were also expanding your experience with the camera.

Being in Canadian waters felt off, but with how much the you were reeling in, was it worth it? At the moment yes it was. That was until the Canadian coast guard showed up. Everything from there kept on going down hill.

*

"I have to write a letter for my college application" Mable asked as she kissed you, you had only been gone for a few days and she missed you like crazy. But she absolutely loved the feelings you made her feel. She could feel how much you liked it as well as she rocked on your lap. Your hands tangling in her hair bringing her closer.

Getting back early from what was supposed to be a ten day trip, Mable found you, seeing as you didn't have her number. Seeing Tommy's dad and finding out about his cancer, it was harder for Tommy to tell his father about his boat. It had been quite a tough thing to do.

You had to leave your house after an argument with your dad. Charlie also had left to find Tommy. Mable picked you up from your house. Which was why you both were now in her car in an empty parking lot.

"Make it personal? Make it about what makes you scared, what makes you happy?" You were in her car laying flat on the passenger seat, as she tried to catch her breath.

"Mmh I'll do that. Now how about you come with me. There's something I want to show you."

*

"Holy shit Mable." You stood back in awe. The view in front of you was absolutely stunning. The boat was a wrecked boat leaning on a rock cliff, but it had been completely over taken by mother nature. Grass now growing on the deck of the boat. A small water fall was by the boat making it even more beautiful.

"I thought you'd like it."

"I love it." You took out your camera, taking a picture. "Get in front."

Mable shook her head a smirk placed on her face, "Not without you."

You looked around seeing a rock at a perfect height not far. You placed your camera down setting it on a timer. "Alright then."

Mable was quick to get to your side. Her arms wrapping around your waist. One of her hands making it's way under your shirt. Her nails gently scratching your stomach. Your own arms wrapping around her shoulder bringing her closer. Her eyes looked up at you. Your own looking down at her.

You felt so absolutely in love.

*

"Wait where exactly are you guys going to get 100,000 dollars?" Mable asked her jaw dropping a bit. Three days had passed since she took you on that wrecked boat. You had just gotten back from going with Tommy and the rest of the crew to the court house.

"I have no clue." You laid face down on the couch of Mable's apartment. "I feel so helpless. Who the hell has that kinda cash? Can't even win it on onlyfans if I wanted to."

"Well I mean with how big your-Mable!" You quickly sat up face now flushed. Her laugh was heard through out the apartment. She stood up from her chair at her desk. Shutting her laptop and going to you. Sitting on your lap.

"I'm sorry. You guys will find a way, I don't know how but you will." Mable also felt helpless. She hated seeing you so upset, it was like how upset you had been when your own father turned you down and ignored you and your pictures, when she first met you.

*

You were nervous. Scared even. The plan was horrible to begin with. You hated the plan from the start. You couldn't believe that Charlie and Mable cooked this up. You were a little peeved but it was to help Tommy and you knew Mable just wanted to help.

The meet up at the donut shop had been so tense. You never left her side standing close even when the man who gave Tommy the cash gave you the creeps.

The plan was simple. Pick up the drugs, deliver the drugs. Get the money and that was it.

"You're staying."

"What? Hell no. I'm going with you guys."

Tommy stopped in front of you, tilting his head a bit up to look at you. You were his little sister. Half sister but sister nevertheless. He was already mad at Charlie for coming up with the plan. He didn't even know how he came up with it. Angry that he had already pulled his little brother into this bullshit. He couldn't bring you into this as well.

"Y/n you're a great kid and I told Charlie this but he won't listen-Tommy he's my twin brother. You really think I'm going to listen?"

"I hate you both, you know that?" He groaned in frustration.

"We love you to now come on."

*

Tommy and Charlie left the parking lot with the drugs, following the plan delivering the drugs. You had stayed with Mable, while Costa, Nunes and Skeemo left the parking lot to the bar.

"You're not going to go with them?" Mable looked at you as the boys got in the truck.

"No, I'm gonna stay with you. I don't want you alone right now." You held out for her hand and she was quick to take yours in hers. Giving your hand a squeeze.

Her free hand coming up to caress your cheek. "What? Gonna protect me from the bad guys?"

"With my life."

*

Mable was putting herself in danger and you refused to leave her side. You knew she wouldn’t set you or boys up. Tommy and Charlie had been jumped as they made their way to the donut shop, the drugs had been taken. Meaning everyone was in deep shit. So you had defended her against your brother Tommy. Even when she had begged but you refused to leave her. Your brothers had each other and you knew they could keep each other safe. Not mention Costa and Nunes. So you left with her. Leaving your brothers and the boys

*

"Hey I believe you." You cupped her cheeks making her brown eyes, that were slightly red from her holding in her tears. "I trust you Mable." You lightly pecked her lips.

"I swear Y/n. I swear I didn't rat you out. I didn't tell anyone about the deal. I would never do that you or the guys. I did-Mable. I. Believe. You. Okay?" You stopped her rambling. You hated how she know doubted it.

"We'll find out what really happened. We just need Tommy to calm down. He's scared, we all are. Just gi-" The sound of the someone knocking on the door you let out a sigh, letting go of Mable to go answer the door.

The moment you opened the door a your face was struck hard with something. You didn't let the what you think was fist take you down. You were quick to return the punch catching one of the guys from the donut shop off guard. You fought hard. Trying your best but it wasn't enough three other men came into the apartment.

The moment you had been hit, Mable had moved to help only able to kick the man in between the legs before the others came in. One man succeeding in holding her down after punching her a few times. She thrashed in his hold hearing your grunts of pain as you were beaten.

"Now Mable. Where is my stuff?"

"I don't know. I swear." She cried as she watched you continue to fight the big man. You were doing damage but the other man who just recovered from being hit in the balls helped in beating you.

"Stop it!! Please. We don't know!" Her cry was cut off by a harsh slap by Pete. She watched as he gave a nod to the two men. She could only watch as you were beaten, your face covered in blood.

"Stop it! I swear. I swear I don't know where it is!"

Mable cried as she was held down as she watched them beat you. You had tried to fight back but you had been quickly over powered. She could only watch as their fist came down hard on to your face and body.

"Mm I don't know. Seems to me like you're lying." Pete let out a mock laugh. Taking out a gun from his jacket.

The sound of the gun clicking had her thrashing hard trying everything and anything to get out of this guys hold.

But it wasn't enough. He held the gun towards you.

"No!! Please! Please!! Stop it! Don't do this please."

"Show her why you shouldn't fuck with me or my money."

The sound of you chocking on your own blood had her tears blur her vision, "it's it's okay Mable. It's okay. It's-"

Screams filled the room. Her own scream as she was finally out of the clutches of those men. The sound of the gun shot rattled her ears. The men cleared the apartment. And she was quick to get to you.

"Y/n? Baby? Come on, please." The blood poured out from the bullet wound. The wound was right on your heart. Her unsteady hands doing their best to stop the bleeding. Using one hand to call the police. She needed an ambulance. You needed the ambulance. She didn't care about those stupid smugglers. She didn't care that she was putting herself in more danger.

You needed help.

"Help-help is on the way, okay. You just stay with me. Okay?" Looking down at your bloody and bruised face, the daunting feeling of not moving came. "Y/n?" Her shaky fingers checking your neck for a pulse. The aching deep feeling of great loss, the emptiness, the denial came crashing down.

You had no pulse.

"No, no. Please no. Y/n? Come on open your eyes. Open them please. Please don't do this to me. I'm begging you." The sobs that left her lips were heart wrenching, she felt like she could breath. Feeling like someone just took a part of her. Ripped her heart out and left her there to die.

But you remained unmoving. Your once warm cheeks were now cold. Now just realizing that your eyes were not closing. Those y/ec eyes that were once filled with so much joy, love, thrill to live life were now lifeless.

You were gone. Taken from her far too early. Far too soon.

:(

[hughiecampbelle]

Arrangement (Roy!Sibling x Lukas Matsson)

((SUCCESSION SPOILERS))

Character/s: Lukas, Kendall, Shiv, Roman, Logan mention

Word Count: 1,732

Requested: hi!! can i request roy!baby sibling being sent to “woo” lukas in favor of the deal? they were indifferent at first but eventually fell for him. (not necessarily needed to be included but i imagine kendall would find out about the blood thing with ebba and try to tank the deal hahaha) - anon

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Hope you like it my love!!! This is based off the latest episode, so spoilers ahead for anyone who hasn't seen it!! Thank you for requesting!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

You cleared your throat, following him through the doorway. Your glass was cold, the stem fragile, the red wine disgusting. Something expensive, Tom had poured, swishing around, threatening to spill. You took one last glance back. They stood huddled together, nodding at you, insisting you go in. You would have rolled your eyes if he hadn’t turned to see you, inviting you in. You smiled, cursing your family. Fuck Kendall, fuck Shiv, fuck Roman, and especially fuck Logan. The door shut behind you, making you jump. Don’t worry, I’m not going to try anything. I just want to talk. His hand fell the small of your back, ever so slightly pushing you along to where the living set sat. Fuck all fo them, you added at the end, over and over again until you were sitting across from him. The room was dark except for a few lamps. One wall was floor to ceiling windows. He had his back turned on the view, as if it didn’t matter, as if the only thing you should be focusing on was him. Shiv’s home had so many rooms, so many ins and outs, it was a wonder she didn’t get lost every day. You couldn’t help yourself, letting your eyes wander over him, above him, to the glittering city. It was too dark to see any details, but that didn’t really matter. It stood grand, solid, daunting in the darkness. Your home, for as long as you’ve been alive. It looked its most perfect at its most blurry, shunned from the daylight. 

He looked tired. That was the first thing you’d noticed about him when he showed up. He wasn’t some godlike creature they all feared he was. He was just some guy in a gold jacket. The bags under his eyes were puffy, as if he hadn’t slept in a while. He brought Ebba and Oskar with him, making fun of them as if that’s what all bosses did. You weren’t sure if you should laugh or not, so you said nothing. Everyone seemed uncomfortable but him. You had Gerri, Frank, and all of your siblings. An army, and for what? This guy? You tried to hide your smile. This was the guy everyone had been worried about? Leave it to them to be dramatic. Jesus, you could have stayed in the home. It was a last minute invitation. Whose idea, you’re not sure. After everything with dad, you were more than happy to tag along. It was a wanted distraction. The thought sent a shiver through your body. This election party was a nice distraction, even if it meant schmoozing with this guy. He shook hands with your brothers, and attempted to hug your sister, stopping at you. His eyes seemed to light up. You went in for a hug, unsure of what else to do, as Kendall introduced you. Y/n, the baby of the Roy family. You’d never met him before. You weren’t even sure he knew you existed. You were as far removed from the company as possible. You just weren’t interested. You had a life outside of all this. You thought everyone should do the same, though the idea isn’t well liked. He likes you, Roman said while you two followed the rest to a private room. Was that true? He just learned your name, and yet, it seemed like he couldn’t take his gaze off you, even if you were the least significant Roy in the room. You had no idea what the deal was, what you were supposed to be rooting for, only that it was worth a lot and it was keeping your brothers up at night. Shut up, you hissed back, really wishing you’d said no. The deal went well in Norway, so you thought this was just a formality. You had no idea it was falling apart behind the scenes. 

It was their plan all along. Kendall and Rome had learned his “type”. He had a weakness for someone who looked like you. It didn’t hurt that you were the youngest, either. Barely legal, Roman always joked, though you were far older than that. They knew bringing you along would help, at least it would offer some sort of distraction, like a parting gift. He gets to talk to you, stare at you, imagine whatever he wanted, and they’d get their deal. All you had to do was stand there and look pretty. You’d figured it out quick enough. You played nice, used your best manners, but they were acting strange about it. They watched your every move, paid close attention to everything you did and said. They waited for him to laugh at your jokes before they found it funny. Lukas seemed distracted by you, too. He lost track of what they were talking about, having to be gently, constantly reminded. Even out on the grass, surrounded by his team, the rest of you left to mingle, he always found his way to you. Rome was right. The more he got to know you, heard your sarcasm, your jokes, your unfiltered thoughts and feelings, the more he seemed to like you. Want you. Over the balcony's edge, he followed you out, stood beside you, asking you questions, needing to know more. What were your interests, your hobbies, why weren't you more involved in the company. They never took their eyes off you, wanting to make sure what you were saying was okay. He wasn’t even supposed to show, but he did, and you were his bait. 

Is he always like that? You ask, taking another rancid sip, Oskar I mean. He was high, obviously, and keen on making everyone he came into contact with uncomfortable. He talked about your body in ways you’d never thought at a political party. Lukas came to your defense immediately, seriously, making him and Ebba jump at his tone. You hadn’t expected him to be so offended on your part, but he seemed genuinely upset, leaving the pair in favor of your company. Like an asshole? Most of the time, yes. He chuckles. I am sorry for his behavior. You force a smile. You should hear what they all say. They’re on their best behavior tonight. There were a few Nazis here, it could have been much worse. He nods, understanding, having gotten a warning speech from your sister about how to act and what to say. He asks how you’re doing with your father. You shrug. No one’s asked you since that night. It still feels unreal. He talks about his own father. You can’t help but notice how human he looks all of a sudden, so fragile, so small. You almost feel bad for him. Despite the situation, being offered up to him like a piece of meat, he’s a kid just like you, like your siblings, pretending to know how to handle this niche slice of adulthood. You make a joke about the wine  that gets you a smile. You become more comfortable with him, letting your shoulders drop, your spine slouch. He speaks of Sweden, how beautiful it is, how much he misses it. About his past relationships, that they never seemed to work out. About your family, how messy they are. You can’t help but agree. Not just your siblings, though it was a miracle you were all in the same room without fighting, but your father and mother. He was cruel and took pleasure in pinning you against one another. She was absent and yet so needy, unstable. You talk about your past relationships, how hard it was to find someone who wanted you, not your money or your name. An hour has gone by before you know it. You didn’t mean to tell him all of this, to open up, it just happened. 

Do you want to go back to the party? He asks, eyeing the door. Not really, you think. You can hear the murmur of guests just outside. All of them trying their best to smile and get along. Tomorrow they’ll be at one another's throats. Do you? He shakes his head no. It’s more fun here. That makes heat rush to your face. The conversation flows without any hiccups. Where you want to travel next, what you wanted to be when you were a kid, all your thoughts about the next presidential candidate, favorite ice cream toppings. You spoke about everything and anything. His laugh came easy, especially at your jokes. It was one of the things he liked most about you, your humor. He told you things he wasn’t proud of, things you’d later realize information  your brothers would have killed for. Nothing big, nothing scary, just personal fears. He trusted you with this. You wouldn’t tell another soul. You liked him a hell of a lot more than when you first met. He was more of a person, not just a walking conglomerate. His company was even enjoyable. He had absolutely no filter and said some outrageous things, but in a world like yours, that was normal. The only reason you even stopped was because of a knock at the door. Shiv wore a tight smile, asking if she could speak to Lukas alone. Behind her, Kendall and Rome watched. I’ll see you soon, he promised, don’t stray too far. You nodded, getting up, leaving the room. You couldn’t read your brother's expressions, but it didn’t look good. Wordlessly, they took your arm, leading you far from the room. What the fuck? I was doing what you said to, you said once you were alone, pulling yourself from their tight grips. Roman rolled his eyes. Not everything is about you. Did he tell you about the blood and hair? What the fuck was he talking about? The shock on your face was enough to convince them. They began speaking at the same time. Fucking Matsson has been sending. . . stuff to his ex-girlfriend. I don’t want you going near him again. His numbers are all wrong, they’re all made up. Never should have used you like this. Fraud. Deal. Freak. What were they talking about? You looked down the hall, through the open doorway, where Shiv is talking to him. She looked angry, upset. He seemed content, even jovial, laughing at himself. Was this true? You wouldn't believe it. He seemed like such a nice guy.

[fortisfilia]

Promised Part 9 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3.4k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 8 | Part 10

Part 9 - Never trust a Snake

Tom’s dorm was the nicest one you had ever seen in Hogwarts. Single bedrooms were offered to head boys and girls only, as a further reward for their title. His room was the size of a normal five-bedroom, but instead of additional beds, it was furnished with a welcoming couch, a nice wooden desk and chair, a fireplace and overall much more space. It wasn’t located next to the other dorms either, which had its virtues and disadvantages. The good thing was that you didn’t have to walk through the hallway of all the Slytherin boys’ dorms to get there. The bad thing was that Tom’s room was right next to Freda’s, so you had seen her a couple more times than you had wanted to. She had never said anything though and usually stomped off right away, brows knitted and red in the face.

Tom had ordered you to his room the day after Slughorn’s party, which was a privilege not many students were granted. Maybe not that much of a privilege if one was engaged to him. But it certainly felt special when you thought of it from where you had started, as a fiancée that he hadn’t even proposed to, who he wasn’t even in love with when the engagement took place. It also felt like he wanted you to be there. He let you study there even when he had to attend to his duties as head boy, which took up quite a bit of his time.

And then there was the Moly. A magical flower, used to counteract enchantments, that Professor Beery, the Herbology teacher, had given to pairs of students to take care of. They were weakest the last days before blooming and needed tending multiple times a day. It was a tricky task to keep them alive, so Beery had promised to give everyone who could manage it extra points for the Herbology N.E.W.T.s in advance. 

Tom had suggested keeping the Moly that had been given to the two of you in his room, as it would increase the chances of keeping it in good condition, seeing that no one else could get their fingers on it. Even though the plant looked quite healthy, he insisted on your help to look after it, as he was not willing to share points if you wouldn’t. So you had come to his room every day, only for the Moly of course.

Other times, when you were just reading or writing another Charm’s essay there, Tom used to stay nearby. He didn’t talk much, as per usual, and rather stared at you from across the room, but the fact that he never told you to leave and always asked when you would come back, for the Moly obviously, made it quite clear that he enjoyed your presence.

And you did too. So much that you had even spent the night accidentally. Accidentally, as in, you had stayed up way too long reading and making notes in your Guide To Advanced Transfiguration textbook, had really, absolutely, doubtlessly planned to go back to your own dorm, but couldn’t be bothered to get up from the sofa until you had finally fallen asleep. 

You woke up in Tom’s bed, not remembering how you had ended up there and sat up slowly, looking around, until you noticed him sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Have I overslept?” you asked, hastily fixing your hair and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“It’s Saturday,” Tom answered, grinning at your attempts to get up. “8 a.m. You can sleep a bit longer if you want.”

“Oh, Saturday, yes. How did I… What happened last night?”

“You fell asleep on the couch. It didn’t look comfortable, you were all sprawled out and twisted. So I put you into bed.”

You swallowed thickly. He had put you into his bed? 

“Did you-”

“No,” Tom shook his head. “I took the couch.”

“Noble,” you quipped, causing him to roll his eyes at you. “Why can’t I remember how I got into bed?”

He shrugged as he turned to face you. “You slept through it. I wasn’t aware that was possible either.”

Oh. An image of Tom picking you up from the couch and carrying you across the room flashed through your mind. He must have tucked you in too; the heavy duvet was still wrapped around you. “Come here then?”

Tom looked at you, scepticism thick on his features, before you reached out for him, holding a hand in the air and waiting for him to take it. He did and you slowly pulled him closer, lifting the duvet, until he lay down next to you. Cautious fingers went up to his face and ran through his hair, to which he closed his eyes, letting you play with his locks for a while. 

Now that you were fully aware of where you were, you noticed how different Tom’s linen smelled compared to your own. They had his clean, warm scent, of tangy embers dying in the fireplace, mixed with leather and something fresh like dewy iron. The scent had rubbed off on you while you had slept there and it felt like he had marked you, without even coming close.

“You didn’t have to sleep on the couch,” you whispered.

His eyes opened again. “You were completely knocked out. That would have felt off.”

“Well, for next time then,” you smiled, took his chin between your fingers and pressed a kiss to his mouth. The touch was still unfamiliar, a great deal of uncertainty as to whether he would reciprocate spreading in your veins. But he did, soft lips meeting yours, lingering as he exhaled and parting only in reluctance. “We’re engaged after all. Have you forgotten?”

“Oh piss off,” he scoffed and pulled you in for another kiss.

Some hours later, when you were tending to the Moly, you looked over towards the fireplace, where Nagini was sleeping in front of. At least you assumed she was sleeping. Her eyes were open and her tongue flicked out of her mouth now and again, but she seemed calm. She had curled up like a cat seeking warmth. The only thing missing was for her to start purring. Well, a pet was a pet, you figured.

“How’s the Moly doing?” Tom asked and went up to inspect it.

“Good. Great actually,” you said. “I think we’ll earn those extra points from Beery.”

“Don’t you think it looks a bit sickly?” he asked, holding the thin black stem between his fingers.

“No, it’s alright.”

He uttered a humph. “You don’t have the book on you, the one I gave you for Christmas, do you?”

“No, it’s in my dorm. Why would you need that now?”

“Have you read through it? All the way?”

“No, I haven’t yet. I just flicked through it and read some recipes that sounded interesting,” you answered, not knowing what he had in mind. “I wanted to try one of the Potions after we’re done with school. They all seem to take a while.”

“Which one?”

“The Vial of Auras for starters. Why?”

He nodded, still looking at the Moly. “I think there’s a recipe for plant cultivation in there. Could be of use.”

“But it looks fine, why-”

He turned his face toward you, looking into your eyes. “Just bring the book next time.”

“Okay,” you muttered. “I can bring it tonight. I’m going out to Hogsmeade with Camille in the afternoon. I’ll be back around 7 I guess.”

“That’ll do,” he said, finally sounding satisfied.

It was five minutes past seven when you returned to Tom’s room. The date with Camille had been lovely, despite you having had one too many toffees at the sweet shop. You had also gotten the Potions book from your dorm, still wondering why the Moly would need extra support. It looked completely fine. 

Tom’s room was empty, aside from Nagini, who had curled herself around one of the bedposts. You walked over to the desk where the Moly was standing and put the book down. Next to the plant lay a handwritten note:

“Coming back soon - Dippet needs me for head boy duties”

Killing time it was, then. You took Tom’s Charms book from the stack and practised a few spells for a while, trying to revise those that would most likely be tested in the N.E.W.T.s. About ten minutes later, the door opened and Tom entered the room. He dragged his feet as he shuffled in and was slightly out of breath.

“Are you alright?” you asked while putting the Charms book away.

He nodded. You walked over and took a seat on the couch, patting the space next to you for Tom to join you.

“I brought the book,” you said and pointed towards the desk.

Tom sat down, looked at it from afar and squinted. “Thanks.”

Slightly concerned, you frowned, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Tom nodded and scratched the side of his face. “Yes, yes. I’m just a bit tired.”

Tired wasn’t exactly what you would have described the state of him. He seemed nervous and completely out of it, his shoulders hanging down limply. 

“Did something happen? What did you have to do for Dippet?”

His eyes roamed the floor while he pondered. “Nothing important. Just some scheduling for the prefects.”

Something cold rubbed against your foot and when you looked down you saw Nagini, who had slid over. She was on the floor between you and Tom, hissing quietly.

“What does she want?” you asked.

Tom stared at Nagini vacantly and didn’t answer.

“Tom?” 

“Hm?”

“What is she saying?”

“She’s hungry.”

“Hungry? We’ve just fed her recently. Strange,” you said and bent down to pat her head. “I’m going to get you some more mice soon, don’t worry.”

Tom’s gaze roamed the room as if he was looking for something.

“Do you want to take a look at the book now? For the Moly?” you asked.

“No,” he answered. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead then.”

“You remember the day we got engaged, right?”

“Of course. Why?”

“Well, it was an arrangement between our families,” he stated. 

“Yes?”

“So I was wondering… What’s in it for you?”

Your stomach dropped. What did he mean ‘what’s in it for you’? Your sister’s curse was the most evident thing in this whole situation.

“You know exactly what’s in it for me,” you said while folding your arms. “Actually, I could ask you the same thing. Don’t tell me you forgot why we’re doing this.”

He took a moment to think before answering. “Of course I haven’t. I just thought there could be something else. Like, perhaps your parents bribed my family.”

You blinked, irritated. He had not just said that.“Are you serious right now? You’re suggesting my parents took advantage of the situation, went and killed two birds with one stone? So that they could marry me off and make me your problem?”

He stared into your eyes for a moment, then retracted. “No, I didn’t mean-”

“Because I’ll have you know, my family would never do such a thing,” you interrupted him. “I know yours probably would, but my parents are not like that, believe it or not. I thought you knew that by now.”

“I was just wondering. No need to make a fuss about it.”

“A fuss! You know what?” you said and got up from the couch, making sure not to step on Nagini. “You sound exactly like Ben. Only more rude. And I thought you didn’t trust him. But it seems that you don’t trust me either all of a sudden.”

“Wait, I’m sorry,” Tom said and followed you. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“We’re done here,” you snapped, making your way to the door, followed closely by Nagini, until Tom grabbed your hand.

“Don’t leave now,” he said, pulled you in a bit closer and a whiff of cologne wafted your way. He reeked of sweat and coughed so loudly you thought he might throw up any moment.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Tom,” you answered, your hand still in his. “Maybe you have a cold coming on or something because you don’t seem like you’re in your right mind. Now let me go.”

“No,” he said but turned his face away from you.

Suddenly the door flew open and you sucked in a sharp breath when you saw who it was. Tiernan Lestrange. And next to him was... Tom? Standing in the door frame, his eyes darting back and forth between you and… You looked to your left, to the person next to you and saw that Emlyn Avery was standing in Tom’s place, still holding your hand.

You wrenched your hand out of his grip and took several steps backwards.

“Avery?” you asked. “What is going on?”

Tom, the real Tom, still stared at you, a fire burning behind his eyes as he pulled out his wand and dashed into the room. Lestrange followed and closed the door behind himself.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Tom demanded, glaring at both Avery and you.

Avery kept silent, a nasty grin forming on his face.

“He… You,” you stammered.

“You two? In my room?” Tom yelled, his chest heaving. “You must have lost your damn minds.”

“I can explain.” Could you, really?

“Well, I hope you can. Taking Avery into my room to do who knows what? Care to explain that?”

“He was you!” you said, only then noticing how crazy you must have sounded. 

Tom shot you a look that told you better not to take him for a fool. His thoughts must have raced at top speed inside his head, you could practically see him thinking. His eyes scurried from your hand to Avery’s, then up to his face. His knuckles had turned white from how hard he clenched his fists and he couldn’t seem to stand still. What would his next move be? Beat Avery to a pulp, curse the two of you, or rush out of the room?

“Please,” you whispered. “Let me explain.”

Tom sighed and avoided looking at you. He shook his head as if he was fighting an internal battle against himself. It almost looked painful. Finally, he went up to Avery, pointing his wand right below the boy’s chin.

“Sit down,” Tom spat. “You too Lestrange! And I don’t want to hear a single word from either of you.”

They did as he said and Tom led you to the other side of the room, followed by Nagini. He cast a Muffliato Charm on the two boys so that they wouldn’t be able to hear what you had to say. 

“Go on,” Tom then said, still avoiding eye contact.

“I came here around seven, as we agreed. I brought the book but you weren’t here. Then I saw your note on the table and waited for you. You, I mean Avery, came in shortly after. But he looked exactly like you. Just until you showed up right now. I swear to Merlin.”

“What do you mean he looked like me?” Tom asked, an annoyed frown on his face.

“He looked and sounded just like you. I thought he was you. He acted weird and I didn’t trust him, but I thought you were just stressed out. The only way I could possibly explain this would be Polyjuice Potion.”

“You don’t really think one of them would be able to brew that correctly, do you?”

“I don’t… But how else would it be possible? You have to believe me. I would have never brought him here. Or anyone.”

He looked at you now, so intensely, it felt like he was reading your thoughts, trying to see if you were lying to him. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” you answered and gave it a good thought. “He asked me about some things. About the engagement. Maybe he was trying to convict me. They haven’t trusted me ever since the school year began, remember?”

Tom nodded and exhaled strongly, walking in circles around you.

“Did he touch you?” he asked.

“No. He just held me back when I wanted to leave. Just my hand, nothing else.”

“Are you sure? Don’t lie to me. If he touched you, I swear I’m going to-”

“No. He didn’t.”

Silence. Nagini's quiet hisses interrupted your thoughts while Tom watched her.

“Why was Lestrange with you?” you asked.

“He came up to me when I was done at Dippet’s. Tried to babble on for ages about assignments.”

“That makes sense. So you wouldn’t disrupt their plan.”

“What did Avery ask you exactly?”

“If my parents had bribed your family. So we would get married.”

“Idiot.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

Tom eventually stopped circling you, placed himself beside you and you both watched Lestrange and Avery sitting next to each other on the sofa. They didn’t dare look back at you and simply stared down at the floor like two ten-year-olds waiting for their parents to punish them.

“Oh, and another thing,” you said. “Avery stinks.”

Tom, to your surprise, stifled a laugh. That was unexpected, so you turned to him and asked, “Do you believe me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

He did? You looked at him, taken aback.

“Nagini,” Tom said to you, taking both your hands in hiss. “She’s your witness. She confirmed you’re telling the truth.” 

“Good girl,” you said, to which she offered a small his. You really had to get her some more mice. 

Closing the gap between you, your arms wrapped around Tom’s neck and pulled him close. With his hands firmly on your waist, he rested his head in the crook of your neck for the duration of the embrace, breathing you in. 

“Thank you for letting me explain,” you said, your voice muffled against the fabric of his jumper.

Tom nodded, pulling back to look at you. He brought his hand to your cheek, his eyes still alight from the argument. “When Avery held your hand I nearly killed him.”

“I know,” you whispered as you laid your hand upon his. “I saw it in your eyes.”

He pulled you back into his arms and sighed deeply. The hug lasted for a long moment before you separated, almost having forgotten that the two Slytherin boys were still there.

“Now, what were they thinking?” you asked. “What point were they trying to prove?”

“Let’s ask them,” he said, broke the Muffliato Charm with a swift motion of his wand and walked over towards the couch.

“I’m going to ask you some things,” he said to them. “And don’t you dare lie to me. You know I can tell. You’re lucky you caught me on a good day, actually.”

They both nodded.

“Polyjuice Potion?” Tom asked.

Avery looked over to Lestrange. They both nodded again.

“Where did you get that from?”

“Stole it from Slughorn,” Avery mumbled so lowly, you could hardly understand.

“Speak up!” Tom ordered.

“We stole it from Slughorn’s stock,” Avery repeated. “At the party, when everyone was dancing.”

Tom sighed and pinched the skin on the bridge of his nose. Of course they hadn’t brewed it themselves. They were far too daft.

“Why?” Tom went on. “What’s the reason for all that?”

“Well,” Lestrange cleared his throat. “We were only doing it for you, Tom. To make sure she’s not betraying you. To find out if she and her family were using you, you know.”

“So we could help you,” Avery added and nodded vehemently.

Tom grinned coldly. “And you thought I wouldn’t have found this out myself by now? That I would need your help? Seriously?”

“We thought-”

“No! You didn’t think at all,” Tom interrupted. “You went behind my back, stole from a teacher and disrespected my fiancée. You’re both an embarrassment for Slytherin and I swear, if I ever see one of you just looking her way, it’s not going to end this lightly.”

Both of them nodded again and looked down onto the floor, not saying anything.

“Now follow me,” Tom said, still angry with them.

“Where are we going?” Avery asked as he got up.

“I’m going to report you to the headmaster of course. And trust me, you’ll be glad Dippet is going to choose your punishment and not me.”

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 10

Tags: @ariachaos

[f10werfae]

Babyboy

pairing: Boyfriend!Tom Holland x Older!GF!Reader

summary: Tom meets Y/n’s narcissistic older sister S/n who wants Tom all to herself; Y/n gets overprotective of her babyboy, showing just how possessive she really is (Tom is 26, Reader is 31) (fluff ending‼️) (Requested by @peterholland04 )

Tom Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“It’s okay dove, what’s the worst that could happen eh“ Tom whispered nuzzling his head into his lover’s neck, peppering soft kisses all over it. His hands clutching Y/n in his, the both of them sitting in the kitchen of her parent’s new house for their housewarming party. “She keeps staring at me like i’m some sort of exhibit” Y/n sighed leaning her head onto his shoulder, playing with his fingers on her lap.

Soon enough the couple are ushered out to sit in the living while the older adults took over the kitchen, with Y/n, Tom and her older sister being left alone. “So Tom where did you and my baby sister meet? Did you know she was never really a sight for the eyes until I fixed her up” S/n giggled said leaning forward, unbuttoning a few buttons of her shirt showing off her cleavage, making Y/n scoff subtly. Tom seeing this just held her tighter, even moving his woman to sit on his lap, just to show S/n that he was taken and deeply in love.

“Uh we met through a friend right babe? We just fell in love at first sigh-t” Tom said dramatically, watching S/n’s face try to hold back a scowl as Y/n turned his jaw to press a full open-mouthed kiss on his lips, interrupting their conversation. Tom’s eyes closing as his arms wrapped around his woman, his knees widening a bit to get her more comfortable.

“Whoops, sorry just can’t keep my hands off him, he’s just too irresistible” Y/n giggled wiping the saliva from the bottom of Tom’s chin, S/n looked on jealous as she saw the way Tom’s eyes sparkled looking at Y/n; his hands clearly itching to climb up the blouse she was wearing as she combed about his messy curls.

“No it’s okay! Remember your last boyfriend? He loved that too” S/n smirked taunting her younger sister; although Y/n’s eyes twitched in anger she kept her calm, feeling Tom’s hands rub her back soothingly. “Yeah. I remember Mark, in your bed mostly though not mine” Y/n replied back not even looking at her older sister, instead focusing on Tom and placing kisses onto his face; Tom earlier that morning had went through plans with Y/n, to prepare her for these type of comments.

“Haha, we both know that only happened because you weren’t gonna give the poor guy a baby, wasn’t that it? Or was it when you said you weren’t in the mood for sex? I don’t know, all I remember was that you couldn’t satisfy him, and who better than your big sissy”

S/n smirked knowing she hit Y/n right where it hurts, Y/n tightened her grip onto Tom’s button up, her eyes already welling up with tears with frustration . “You- I’ve dealt with your bullshit for so many years, all the “sisterly” ways you’ve stolen things I love. But ya know what? I’m glad you took Mark right outta my hands, he was a cunt and you know it too. He couldn’t keep it in his pants and used you as a rebound, where is he now “sissy?” Could you not satisfy him enough? Or did you finally see the pig of a man I had to be with?”

By the time Y/n had finished her piece, her chest was visibly breathing deeply, her finger pointed right at her sister menacingly as Tom held her waist tightly to make sure she wouldn’t start anything physical. S/n knew how wrong and toxic Mark was, Tom had swooped in as Y/n’s knight and saved her. Treating her like a princess, giving her a new definition of love.

“I- Well- Tom see? This is the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with? Really? She’s so unstable, a few words get her panties in such a twist” S/n laughed watching Y/n get up and start to gather her things from around the room, “Yes. Y/n is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, I honestly think i’d rather be found in a ditch than by your side S/n. Usually i’d stay quiet, but not when you’re disrespecting my woman and my family. She doesn’t deserve you as an older sister, in fact, I wouldn’t even wish a character like you on my worst enemy. What sort of person meddles with a person’s happiness, purely just for her own gain”

S/n sat there silent, looking like a child that had just been scolded, her body now leaned back and sitting up right in the chair; completely different from her pose trying to seduce Tom earlier. Y/n still standing just looked at her poor excuse of a sister, letting Tom gather the rest of her things, his jaw chiseled as his face remained stern and hard. “I’ll say bye to your parents love, and we’ll be on our way, to OUR house” Tom emphasised side eyeing S/n before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Why do you always treat me like this S/n? I don’t get it, what did I do to you?” Y/n whispered, her older sister stayed staring at the floor in silence for a while, “Because why do you deserve him? That’s what I don’t get, you were nothing before me”

“Yeah fuck you seriously, hope you find someone that loves you for something other than your ugly personality bitch” Y/n said leaning into her face, saying each word with venom, before walking out into the hallway and connecting her hands with Tom; the happy couple made their exit out of the suburban home.

-

“She will never change, told you she sucks” Y/n sighed, breaking the silence that took over their whole ride home, the atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a knife. Y/n’s eyes suddenly drifted to his lap, “Wait- Tommy baby, are you seriously horny right now, what the fuck is this?” She laughed palming his hardened cock through his trousers, watching him groan and slap her hand away.

“S-seeing you so feisty and snarky, just ya know, made me think of you in-in our bed” Tom whimpered adjusting his pants, his face flushed red probably due to embarrassment. “Aww did it now, babyboy” Y/n smirked knowing just how much he loved that nickname, especially when she used it to smother and cuddle him, or when she was bouncing herself onto his thick cock; feeling it harden again for their next few rounds.

“God you’re really my woman, let’s get into the house, n’ I want you to take your frustrations out on me, mommy” Tom whispered leaning in, his lips brushing against Y/n’s; her body visibly squirming in delight from the name he called her. The both of them wasting no time in reaching their bed, which ended in them Christening every surface in the household.

——/-

(Taglist no longer accepts new @, library blog for new users @f10werfaes-cosy-collection )

Taglist: @esposadomd @elenavampire21 @stuckysgirl27 @cookielovesbook-akie @theekyliepage @acornacre @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @vrittivsanghavi

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I’d love to hear your analysis behind MM schmoozing with the Kardashians. I know you’ve touched base on it before, but I’d love to know more. It seemed like, back in 2020 when Meghan first “returned” to California, she felt she was above that scene. Now, she’s doing what she can to attach herself to them…but I feel the timing is way, way off. She deigned to lower her standards enough to latch on to the K-train as it’s going off the rails. The eldest is basically cutting her ties from the fam. Kim lost a ton of credibility throughout her marriage to Kanye and she’s on the losing side of a feud against one of the biggest stars on the planet (and she was booed last night at the roast of Tom Brady!). The entire family doesn’t mind coming across as messy, or dumb, or promiscuous which seems to be the opposite of the look Meghan tries to achieve (they do, however, work very hard, and for the most part are very family oriented). Is this another backfire on Meghan’s behalf or do you think she has sound networking reasons behind this connection?

Old ask from May 6th

I think Meghan likes the Kardashians because who they are today is what she wants for herself; they're accepted by society, they have huge businesses and companies, they're cultural icons. But what Meghan doesn't understand is that the Kardashians have authenticity and American culture places a really high value on authenticity. You could be the worst person in the world, but as long as you're authentic in who you are, what you believe, and the things you do, we'd generally accept it and support you.

(Authenticity, by the way, is Kim's issue. Something happened and people don't see her as authentic anymore, and that's why she's getting booed and may not be as well-liked as her sisters are. Maybe it was the feud with Taylor. Maybe it was Kanye. Maybe it was something else altogether.)

After all, Meghan has been trying to network her way into being momagered by Kris. Love her or hate her, Kris is one of the more effective talent managers right now. Look at everything her family has now - brand deals, marketing deals, multimillion dollar companies, a general respectability, acceptance - and remember, all of this came from a sex tape. Somehow, Kris lassoed the wind from that storm and brought her family into Emerald City.

That's what Meghan wanted; she wanted to leverage the controversy of marrying into the BRF to roar into Hollywood with multimillion-dollar brands, sponsorships, celebrity friends, acceptance, and relevance.

Except her marrying into the BRF wasn't controversial. Yes, there were a couple of racist articles (which were handled immediately) but by and large, the press accepted her, the public accepted her, and the BRF accepted her. So Meghan had to create the controversy she wanted, and that's where everything fell apart. It fell apart for her the same way it's falling apart for Kim - the lack of authenticity and death by a thousand cuts exposing how she manipulated everything to be seen as the victim.

Anyway. I'm not sure it matters anymore. The Kardashians seem to have successfully pushed Meghan away because Meghan is back to hanging out with Oprah and Oprah's '90s crowd.

Also, I think trying to get in with the Kardashians and their crowd was Meghan's way of trying to upgrade her fame strategy. Hear me out:

1980s - 1997: Fame was best represented by Diana and the paparazzi stalking

1995 - 1999: JFK Jr brought the Kennedy name back into global fame

1998 - 2011: Mid-1990s, Oprah changed her talk show from tabloid trash to what it's now best known as; motivational, inspirational, celebrity interviews. From that time through her last show in 2011, Oprah and The Oprah Winfrey Show were considered the top "get" for celebrity PR. If you made it onto the Oprah Show, you were famous. Oprah's successor was Ellen DeGeneres and The Ellen Show (which began in 2003) and like Oprah, if you were on Ellen, you were famous, you were popular, and you were cool.

2003ish - 2007ish: Paris, Britney, Nicole, Lindsay/Perez Hilton/TMZ era. Fame was cute young twenty-something girls partying in LA.

2007 - 2016: Kardashians on the rise. The Kardashians peaked in 2016/2017 in terms of their press coverage, and they've been steadily (albeit gently) declining since.

2010 - 2016: William and Kate get engaged and the BRF enters a new "golden phase", becoming globally popular again.

2016 - 2022: (I have no idea. It was such a weird time. See the * note below.)

2022 - today: peak Taylor Swift

So if we look at Meghan and her fame "trajectory," she's emulated the lives and PR of the most famous pop culture icons of the last 40 years, trying to catch some of their stardust.

She married Diana's son, tried to get the paparazzi to chase after her the same way, and copied Diana's outfits.

She cozied up to the Kennedy family and connected their surname with hers.

She got the Oprah celebrity interview and inserted herself into Oprah's circle. Then she got the Ellen celebrity interview and inserted herself into Ellen's circle.

She cozied up to the Kardashians, copied their outfits, makeup, and hairstyles.

She cozied up to William and Kate, tried to be their besties, and tried to out-duchess Kate at game Kate herself created and owned the copyrights/trademarks to.

So was Meghan buddying up to the Kardashians so Kris could be her momager and get her the riches of the world as she desires? Or was Meghan buddying up to the Kardashians to collect them for her gauntlet of infinity stones so she could one day snap her fingers and be the most famous person in literally all of history and culture combined?

*I feel like politics dominated much of the conversation 2016 - 2020 with Trump, Brexit, and the rise of the far right and so much so that it consumed much of pop culture in a way we hadn't seen before and I'm not sure if there was anyone famous-famous or tabloid-famous that rose above it to dominate the way Diana, JFK Jr, Young Millennial Hollywood, the Kardashians, and Golden Era of Cambridges did. Then obviously 2020-2022 was COVID, with The Queen's death in 2022 being, in my opinion, the door that slammed the door shut on the 2016-2022 era of chaos, which - in a weird way - let pop culture as a whole kind of shift and regroup. I could probably write a much longer essay on this but I'll spare y'all since my stomach's rumbling and it's lunch time.

[zablife]

Lily

Tommy x Lily Shelby (OC)

Summary: Tommy attempts to deal with the aftermath of his wife and daughter's kidnapping.

Author's Note: Written for @runnning-outof-time 3K celebration Tales from the Flower Garden with the prompt "Promise you'll come back to me." Congratulations again, K!!

Warnings: heavy angst, mention of blood, child death, mention of murder, trauma, anxiety, catatonia, fighting, drinking

“Kill…kill…kill,” the words fell from her lips in haunting whispers. The only words she spoke since returning from the clutches of the Changretta family, covered in blood. There was so much it caked in her hair and under fingernails. She’d done terrible things, but exactly what transpired was locked inside her mind forever, the price she’d paid to return to Tommy far too great to be revealed. 

“You’re the only one who was there. What happened, Arthur?” Tommy begged to know. It was the question he’d asked day after day, but Arthur had been high on snow that night in the warehouse and the painful memory was erased in the white abyss. 

“Told ya, Tom, it was over when I got to her,” Arthur explained, reaching for the whiskey on the sideboard to stop the aching in his head. Tommy grabbed Arthur’s arm, stopping him with a dangerous glare.

“Have you lost your fucking mind, eh? My daughter’s dead and my wife’s a fucking ghost,” Tommy spat, shoving Arthur into the wall with all the force he could muster. “I won’t ask again. What do you remember?” he shouted, trembling with emotion.

Arthur struggled under Tommy’s iron like grip as he repeated Tommy’s words from the night his sister-in-law and niece were kidnapped. “Do it…do it or else they kill your daughter. Lily knew it was the only way.” 

“My fucking orders…” Tommy muttered as he released his brother from his grasp, stumbling backward as the guilt crushing his chest made it difficult to draw breath. 

“May God forgive ya,” Arthur said, looking at the ground. He wanted peace for his brother, but knew that was impossible. The vendetta Tommy and Luca had started was to blame for all the turmoil and nothing would change that now. 

Tommy rubbed a hand over his eyes as he exhaled a shaky breath. “You think anyone would forgive me now? Would you?” 

“Forgiveness is out of my hands,” Arthur said numbly, looking out toward the garden where Lily sat still as a statue. “It’s not for us to decide.”

Polly walked into the study at that moment, determined to pull Tommy from his work and back to his duties as a husband. “Tommy, you should go to her,” she urged, but he only stared out the window at his wife’s motionless profile. 

“And say what Pol?” he asked, shoulders slumped forward in defeat. 

“You don’t have to say anything. She just needs to know that you’re there,” she advised. It was the only thing anyone could do until Lily decided to return to them. However, she needed the support of her family.

The servants were doing most of the work caring for Lily because Tommy was too afraid to go near, worried he might inflict more damage on her tortured soul. As it was his wife screamed through the night and unless someone took her outdoors in the fresh air, she'd claw the walls until her fingers bled.

Tommy turned with a nod, acknowledging he’d heard his aunt’s words and shuffled toward the doorway to the gardens. Inhaling a deep breath at the threshold, he took a step onto the lush green grass and began a path toward his wife, squinting in the bright afternoon sunshine. He couldn’t deny the lovely warmth he felt on his face, but the aching dread in the pit of his stomach held off any pleasure he felt at the sensation. 

As he approached the bench where Lily sat, he hesitated momentarily. Although she hadn’t attempted it, she looked beautiful. Frances had dressed her like a china doll in a gown he'd chosen for her because she lacked the capacity to decide for herself. Her hair was fastened in a loose braid to keep her locks from her face and Tommy longed to stroke it, smelling the lavender bath salts she used.

God how he missed pressing her against his body, feeling her skin on his when he awoke, and wondered if she might feel the same. Since her return, she slept in a separate room. Tommy reminded himself it was best for her recovery. Her screams the first night she was home were proof she wanted nothing to do with him and why he had retreated instantly, so as not to make the pain worse. She was so fragile now, he worried one touch from him might break her.

Her back was ridged as he drew close, shoulders pulled backward tightly as though someone had forced her into position and her distant stare made him ill at the sight of her. She looked more like a waxwork than a human being. Tommy carefully took a seat next to her, leaving a small distance between them as he swallowed harshly. Did she even know he was there? he wondered. 

Then she stirred ever so slightly, hands raising from her sides to rest in her lap daintily and her head moved to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes didn’t fix on him, but Tommy knew she spied him from the corner of her eye and he cleared his throat to speak. The words would not come to him as his heart thundered in his chest. How could he apologize for what had happened? All that she had suffered because of him? 

A gentle breeze blew through the garden, lifting a few wisps of hair from her neck momentarily and Tommy caught the scent of her perfume mixed with the flowers from the garden. It was an intoxicating mix that reminded him of their days as newlyweds, caught up in the passion of early romance. They’d stroll the gardens after dinner and when the mood struck, he'd pull her into the flowerbeds, crushing the delicate petals as they made love. Lily chided Tommy for ruining her efforts at growing a proper garden, but secretly loved his affections. He smiled at the memory, but it was soon carried away as the breeze died down and he noticed his wife’s eyes staring back at him. 

“Lily? Darling, can you hear me?” he asked hopefully, slipping one large hand under both of hers. “I want to tell you something," he began hesitantly, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. When she didn't flinch, he continued earnestly, "I know you weren’t meant to be with a man like me. This isn’t the life you deserved and there are things I regret, but nothing more than leaving you to defend our daughter by yourself. Whatever happened with the Changrettas, I hope you’ll be able to forgive me one day." He searched her eyes for understanding, a lump forming in his throat as he choked, "It’s all my fault and I’d do anything to have you back.” Tommy’s eyes welled with tears as he spoke the words he hadn’t said out of fear or pride, but thought a thousand times before.

Lily’s chin raised slightly, lower lip twitching as though she would begin speaking at any moment and Tommy held his breath, anxiously waiting for her reply. Squeezing her hands gently, he noticed a slight change in the brightness of her eyes and he ran his thumb across the back of her hand to encourage her. However, after several minutes, no sound came from her parted lips and he sighed in agonizing defeat. Making one last desperate plea, he begged, “I can’t live without you, Lily. Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Continue reading their story here- Windflowers.

---------------------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60   

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@cillmequick

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dandelionprints

@look-at-the-soul

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@celticmelody

@l1-l4

@rangerelik

@floraroselaughter

@moral-terpitude

@dreamlandcreations

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@allie131313

@babaohhhriley

@springsteens

[myfandomprompts]

𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟕)

Summary: Close to the line, you have to find a way on the other side. The time where you and Tom will have to part approaches.

Previous Part - Masterlist

Warnings: none.

French spoken -> italics

Tom clutched his jacket around his shoulders, forced to notice that summer nights in France were as unforgiving as they were in England; the humidity falling on their skins sending chills through his spine.

The jacket still smelled like whatever bleach they used at the hospital back in Paris, and the packets inside his pockets only had a few cigarettes left. He had been keeping count, its number diminishing as they approached the crossing line, and the only one he didn’t regret losing was the one he had given you.

“You look like a ghost,” he remarked, eyes on your pale face emphasised by the white light of the moon that shone on the dirt track they were currently walking on. Your eyes were aimlessly looking at the ground and the shawl around your shoulder gave you a mystical aura that had him fascinated.

But regardless how spellbound he was, Tom was genuinely still worried about you.

“Hum… Thank you?” you answered, tilting your head in his direction, making him smile internally.

Oh, don’t worry, love, you still look bloody beautiful.

“Have you had some water?” Henriette asked at your side as she extended her gourd to you.

You contemplated the object before taking it. “Damn, I would kill for some hot tea right now,” you muttered before taking several sips of the freezing liquid before wiping your lips with the back of your hand. They were a lovely shade of pink and Tom noticed that it contrasted with the paleness of your face beautifully.

“I heard German tea’s not that bad,” he said after a moment, putting his hands in his pockets with a teasing smile.

Both women looked at him and scowled, making him grin wider. “I’m joking…They got good beer, though.”

Henriette shook her head in exasperation while you met his eyes, a small smile on your lips as you watched him with a glint of forbidden amusement. Yep, breathtaking. 

Albert and Giulia walked in front of them, deep in conversation that had been going on since they left the factory and when the first lights of the morning pierced the sky, Tom barely noticed Albert slow down to walk at his pace while you walked further ahead. “So, you… in Dunkerque?”

Tom lifted his head in surprise, wondering how the conversation would go with both of them not exactly speaking each other’s language. The only French Tom had picked up from his time in this country were the words for water, car, bread and German.

Nothing that would help him with your brother at the moment. “Yeah. Evacuated and all, a mess.”

Albert seemed to understand. “Tiré… You shot?” he continued, flattening his fist over his own shoulder before pointing at Tom’s.

“Yeah, shot by a bloody chaser. Stuka,” he clarified when he saw Albert frown in incomprehension.

The latter only nodded at the known word before lowering his hand over his thigh. “Me too, shot. But less… courageux. I ran from German when come here, they shot us. Bullet hit a little,” he added as he tapped the fabric of his trousers pensively. “One friend… didn’t survive.”

They fell in a respectful silence, Albert’s expression turning melancholic while they reminisced about what they had lost. Tom saw images of a hand extended to him amidst flashing red lights, followed by a face, half burned, lying on the deck, dead. The face that belonged to the hand he didn’t take. A strong feeling of guilt burned his tongue, the memory of Vic rendering his throat sour.

Once they’re gone, they’re gone. You should make it right when you can.

“You have sister, brother?”

“A sister, Lois,” Tom answered a little more brightly as the dreadful images disappeared, replaced by his sister’s big blue eyes warming his chest. “Hell of a singer.”

Albert paused for a moment to understand the last word before nodding again. “So you understand. What it is, to be… protective of sister.”

Tom’s head snapped up, meeting Albert’s stern gaze. “Uh… Yeah, I don’t know. She never really needed anything of me… Older sister and all, I guess.”

Your brother feigned to understand before keeping on, pointing at you walking in front of them. “Y/N, little sister to me. Protect her,” he assured as he witnessed Tom’s growing confusion. “Once, a boy, he, uh… broke Y/N heart,” he trailed, looking for the English words with difficulty. “You know what me did?”

Tom shook his head slowly, replacing confusion for complete nervousness as he waited for your brother to answer his own question, body tense in expectation.

Only Albert did not utter a word, instead drawing his lips into a thin line and coming to apply a slight pressure on Tom’s valid shoulder, resting there for an uncomfortable amount of time. He watched him intensely, conveying what he wanted to say through the light taps on his shoulder and Tom felt his body freeze, feeling the weight of his meaning.

Then he felt the pressure disappear and Albert walked away, returning to his place next to Guilia, leaving a stunned Tom behind.

“What is it again…”

Several hours later, you had reached a crossing, people trampling around in the shade of the trees under the morning sun, disarray radiating from them. Cars were passing by, going in the opposite direction with their engines roaring and you had to dodge two of them in order to let them pass. You all stopped, unwilling to merge with the disorganised crowd.

“Excuse me,” Giulia called out to a slowing black car, approaching the driver. “What is happening?”

“If you’re asking about why people are stopping, it’s because there’s a German post ahead. They have the bridge under their control, alright. I guess all those folks don’t know what to do about it, can’t cross with the river.”

Henriette swore under her breath, rising to look above the heads before her, as if hoping to see the Germans in the distance.

“Where are you coming from?” Giulia continued, looking at the luggage on the back seat of the car.

“Châteauroux, going back home… Turns out,  I had a flat tyre and they helped me change it when I went through them,” the driver said, tapping his  car door.

“... the German helped you change your tyre?” Albert asked, sceptical.

“They did, indeed,” he answered before driving away, leaving your group behind disconcerted.

“What do we do?” you asked after explaining the situation to Tom.

“I…”

“How are we going to cross the line? I’m not passing through them,” spat Henriette.

“You and Y/N could pass on your own, you’re just going home, right? You have nothing to hide,” remarked Albert. “Even Tom here would pass for a lost lad, just look at him.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you interject, taking your brother’s arm and glancing at Tom with concern.

“It doesn’t work like that… The Germans must be on edge, they’ll be suspicious of anything, without mentioning that he is supposed to be dead," trailed Giulia deep in thought, looking around like the grapevine fields held the answer she was looking for.

“So what do we do?”

Giulia let Henriette’s question linger in the air for a while before pursing her lips, looking west. “We find a passage point of our own. They can’t be everywhere yet."

And here you were walking again, fatigue starting to seriously eat at your core and the sole of your shoes was starting to wear out, making you regret not bringing a second pair. You passed a nearby village bordering the Cher river that prevented you from going further, a herd of cows half immersed in the water in order to escape the heat. Aside from dogs barking in the distance, all was quiet as you walked up the street, not a soul present outside as if the stony houses and green gardens were deserted. This is why you felt uneasy when you were made self-conscious of the only pair of eyes staring at your group like a hawk, standing in her yard behind a wooden fence with a distrustful icy glare that silently followed your progress. The said woman looked old, cutting out wild branches out of a bush with sharp shears in her hands and stopping when you finally noticed her.

“I’m going to ask her.”

“This is a bad idea, Henriette…” you whispered to your friend, not liking the dark expression the woman wore for one bit.

But she didn’t have to ask anything, the harsh voice of the woman suddenly filling the air. “What you lot doing here? You’re not from here.”

You thought it bizarre for someone so close to the line to be surprised by a group of strangers weeks after the first waves of exodus, but you didn’t think too much about it, rather waiting for someone else to speak. Albert was the one who approached her. “No we’re not, we live further south, madame. We just want… We’re looking to cross the river.”

Giulia had her hand over your brother’s arm in a previous attempt to stop him from speaking but now she looked interested in whatever answer the woman would give. The latter froze momentarily before taking a deep annoyed breath, suspicion still adorning her features. When she spoke again, her tone had softened, however. “Hmpf. You’ll want the last house on the right at the end of the road.”

You all looked at each other in puzzlement while Tom eyed the woman curiously. “Merci beaucoup,” bowed your brother in thanks and took Giulia by the arm to lead her in the right direction while you did the same with Tom, thanking the woman silently in turn.

“And not a word!” she called after you roughly with a loud whisper. You looked back at her frightened before resuming your walk.

“She sounds like a lovely lady. Wouldn’t like venturing close to those shears of hers, though,” Tom said as he glanced at her over his shoulder with a mild smirk, your hands curled around his elbow as you led him away. “Care about my limbs too much for that." 

“Of course you do,” you said playfully and you sensed his gaze on you again.

“What? You don’t think it would be a loss if I… missed some parts?”

You rolled your eyes as you tried not to blush, but your cheeks turned hot despite your better efforts, the smile on your lips reaching your eyes and Tom let out a soft laugh that made Albert turn with a raised brow. You lowered your gaze to the ground, struggling to keep the sinful thoughts at bay.

The house at the end of the road was more of a farm, two barns at each side of the entrance and as many dogs to welcome you loudly as you passed the gates. At the sound of the agitation, a man who you presumed to be the owner came out of the main building at the opposite side of the yard to call after them, whistling them to heel.

“Who are you? What do you want?” he barked when he reached your group taking great steps, his dogs circling him excitedly. He was mid-aged, strong looking with a bushy beard that hid his neck and you were reminded of the shepherds in your childhood stories.

“We… were directed to this house. We need to cross the river. Sir,” spoke Giulia when she saw the man’s eyes turn into slits. He scrutinised each and every one of you, lingering to observe Albert from head to toe before losing his wary expression as fast as it had come. “Come on, quick.”

You all crossed the courtyard and followed him inside the main building obediently, the dogs behind you now happily sniffing your legs with breathy huffs. Once in a large room with a low ceiling that made Tom duck a little as he entered, the man turned to you all, standing awkwardly and taking in your surroundings with bashful stares.

“Quite the group you have there,” he announced, taking several glasses out of a cupboard and laying them down on the table. “Fruit brandy? Blackberry, homemade.”

You eyed the brown bottle he was agitating in his hand with narrowed eyes before Henriette answered for you, nodding in agreement and the man proceeded to pour a little amount in each glass before beckoning you all to sit around the large table. Only Tom and Giulia stayed up, unwilling to sit on the empty chairs next to the man.

You winced when the thick liquid hit the inside of your throat, burning; but it felt good after the night you had, your head still throbbing a little from your fall. Henriette wore the same mixed expression as you while Tom observed his glass unconvinced before drinking, shaking his head in reaction when he put the glass back down on the table with a thud.

The man then took out cigarettes from his jacket and extended it towards you with raised eyebrows. You refused with a grateful smile while Albert and Tom gladly took one.

“So here’s what’s going to happen," he started as he took a ciggy of his own. "We can’t make you cross in daylight because they’re surveilling the river, so you’re stuck here until nightfall. If a problem comes along, anything at all, you hide in there,” he pointed to an open door on the side, large enough to contain three brooms and a bucket. “You stay quiet, and all will be well. They already searched the house two days ago, so they shouldn’t be back until a while.”

“Merci, Monsieur,” voiced Henriette as she took another sip of her glass while you explained the plan to Tom. “May we know your name?”

“No,” he answered as he flicked a match. “The less you know about me, the better. Remember, do not- ever, talk about the people that help you, it’s too dangerous.”

Giulia nodded in agreement, a rule she already knew while Tom looked at the wooden door with an incredulous look. “We can’t all go in there.”

The man looked up at him with surprise, taking a minute to comprehend that Tom spoke another language altogether. “What did he say?”

“He said that we all won’t fit,” you translated, agreeing with him on that point.

The man stared at Tom for a moment before getting up slowly, walking around the table and coming to stand inches from Tom’s face who didn’t flinch one bit. “Maybe it’s because there is a basement behind that panel, wiseass.” 

Tom titled his head back slightly, an unimpressed smile dancing on his lips as he looked back at you. “What was that?”

“Nothing, he just says there is a basement we can hide in beneath it,” you explained standing up instantly in order to softly drag Tom away by the arm, giving a reassuring nod to your host as the others shifted uncomfortably. It seems to suffice because the man regained his chair while Tom took a drag out of his cigarette, looking aloof and wearing a self-sufficient expression.

“Is there a place where we could rest, sir? We… didn’t have much sleep last night.”

He crushed his bud before leading you to your ‘accommodation’ with a waving hand, you and Henriette taking an old looking sofa in an adjacent room while the others are left to sleep comfortably in the barn with blankets. “I warn you, it gets hot in the afternoon,”  he announced before leaving them there.

As you close your eyes, trying to find sleep, anxiety claws at your chest at the idea that tonight, you would cross the river with a real risk looming over your group for the first time since you left.

You wake up in the evening, feeling drowsy but a little bit better and only your stressful state from what you will do tonight remains. Outside, the light has started to dim and you can hear frogs croaking in unison in the distance as you move through the house, all of you converging to the dining room where you are offered ham and bread along with some fruit. You eat in apprehensive silence, only broken by curt questions asked by your host like ‘Where are you from’ or ‘What happened in that factory’.

You don’t really participate, lulled by the outside sounds and the soft ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece, nightfall arriving at a slow pace. In front of you, Tom doesn’t speak either, his fingers drumming on the wooden table at times, wearing a plain expression as you glance at him through your eyelashes. He looks relaxed, but you know better, know him better; he is as anxious as you are, and you can’t even reach for him to make him feel less alone.

You linger in the kitchen to wash the plates with the help of Henriette while your brother and Giulia disappear somewhere in the house to talk over the plan, the bearded man soon announcing that he has some preparation to make and exits in turn. You haven’t noticed Tom slip out of the room at all in your focused state, so when you are done with the dishes, you wipe your hands on your towel and step outside in order to look for him, not liking him alone.

The dogs are playing in the yard joyfully, unbeknownst to your nerves on edge and you stop to briefly pet them; the licks they give you lifting your spirit a little before going straight for the smaller barn, the door slightly ajar.

He is there, sitting on a haystack with his legs stretched out, a cigarette hanging from his lips as his gaze is fixed on some chickens trotting around, looking for leftovers on the ground. You approach, coming to sit beside him and he acknowledges your presence with what you think is a fleeting satisfied expression before resuming his quiet observation.

“Find anything interesting about farm life, sailor?” you try, examining his profile, the bruises taking a yellow shade there as he puffs out a cloud of smoke.

“I’m wondering how good a fried chicken would taste right now,” he answers solemnly with a nod towards the winged creatures shuffling around. “I bet the old man wouldn’t even notice a missing bird.”

You watch in turn, agreeing with him, but you’re only reminded of how cunning Tom can be, smiling yo yourself. “Old habits die hard, I see.”

He turns his head to you, a glint of amusement playing in his eyes. “You really think I settled to steal birds back home? Didn’t know you had such a low opinion of me.”

“Can’t tell, I never knew what you were up to, really,” you shrug as you grab the smoke between his fingers to bring it to your lips. "And I know for a fact that you love birds." 

He watches the movement, endeared by it and how your rosy lips enclose his own cigarette, right there by his side. “Where are the others?”

You take another drag before handing it back to him, pursing your lips. “Henriette is helping out in the kitchen and-”

“Let me guess,” he interrupts, a smirk stretching at the corner of his mouth as his face brightens. “Your brother and my lovely guide are alone together somewhere, discussing like they’re thick as thieves.”

You part your lips in mild surprise, unsettled by his confidence. “How do you know?”

“C’mon,” he hints, making you frown. “I may not speak French, but I have eyes.”

You get lost in your thoughts for a few seconds, reminiscing about the last few days and Tom's words slowly start to make sense in your mind. All of the time he spent with her, his ease when she is near.

“Well… Good for him,” you conclude as a chicken starts rummaging close to your foot.

Tom leans back against the wall again with a musing sound, eyes not leaving you and enjoying how unsettled he had made you. But then a question comes into his mind and he flicks some ashes away, swallowing nervously. “Say… Your brother he… Never got into a fight, did he?”

You glance back at him, a smile gradually tugs at the corner of your lips as you lean backwards, mimicking him. “Whatever he told you, I guarantee he exaggerated,” you laugh softly. “Albert is a kind soul, never got carried away.”

“So he never… beat up someone? Not once? Can happen to everybody.”

You look at the ceiling as you shake your memory, humming in the process. “He may have had some scraps when we were younger, but apart from that… Why do you ask?”

He hesitates, playing with the tip of his fag. “Just… something about you being heartbroken?”

You turn your head to look up at him, brushing his shoulder in the process, his scent like pine trees reaching your senses. His eyes are trained on you, serious now, and you feel something thrum in your chest before you answer. “Ah… That. Albert wanted to do something about it but he only ended up giving him a good scolding. I was young, I thought it was the end of the world but looking back, it was absolutely meaningless,” you comment, turning one of the rings on your finger distractedly. "I don’t think I’ve ever been heartbroken, you know?”

You hear his soft exhale next to your ear as smoke escapes his lips, glimpsing the slight nod of his head from the corner of your eye. Over the silence you search his face, his eyes are transfixed ahead of him and the desire to be able to read his thoughts passes over you. “...Have you?”

His eyes snap at you at that, their soft blue glow making you pause as he answers contemplatively. “No, I don’t think so… Not yet, at least.”

You turn your tongue in your mouth, stopping words from leaving it as you stare back at the chickens, his gaze hot on the side of your face. You’re tempted to look back, to acknowledge what you chose to ignore obstinately, instead conjuring a memory from your childhood home and recounting it to Tom. All of that to brush away the inevitable future, because you knew it would hurt, you just had to make it less painful, some way or another.

He listens to you, speaking about him in turn without complaint and you talk for what seems like hours, reminiscing stories of your childhood you never got to tell each other while in Manchester. 

When you come to the subject of Tom’s first serious infraction, the chickens are long gone, having run back in their respective coop for the night. Eventually, the conversation fades down, less enthusiastic as dark falls completely outside, a single lamp hanging over an oaken beam your sole source of light. You feel so comfortable next to him, your knees brushing his in the need to compensate for the cool air settling down over your skin with the warmth radiating from his body. But at the sight of the night finally taking over, anguish comes back to nag at you and you still shiver.

“How far is it?” Tom asks softly after a while, no smile discernible in his voice. “Where you’re going?”

“About… 150 km,” you answer with a strained voice, conjuring a mental map. “Maybe two days of walk, give or take…”

“So not very far, then…” he murmurs pensively, and you can’t help but look at him with saddening eyes. He looks so… exhausted.

“We still have time,” you assure, turning fully to him as you feel his anguish reach you, the one you refused to acknowledge earlier. “We have to cross the river, and then-”

“Doesn’t change the fact that in a matter of days we might never see each other again.”

He meets your eyes for a fleeting moment, his blue eyes piercing yours, sombre before they’re gone again, as if looking at you pained him greatly. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, your heart constricting in your chest. You don't want him looking at you like this.

You see the subtle clenching of his jaw and your fingers reach for it, softly bringing his face to look back at you, your chin almost touching his shoulder with the proximity. “Don’t say that. There will be an after, we just have to wait for the better days to come. For the war to be over."

His eyes shut briefly at your touch, and you can feel the way he imperceptibly leans into it. “We might never get there. The Nazis won't stop, England won't surrender in a million years, and somewhere along the way I'll be fighting for the other side, left to hope that you're alright."

Your eyelids feel heavy, fluttering slowly, wondering if the weight of his words have something to do with it. "Nothing will happen to me as nothing will happen to you. You just have to make it to Spain, then start from there." 

"You won't even know if I made it, if I ever do, anyway."

“Giulia will get you there, I trust she will. Then we'll both be home, we'll know we're safe. We'll be with our families, with our loved one."

A weak smile cracks over his lips, one of his hands coming to reach over yours resting at the side of his face, your fingers trailing the edge of his jaw, unkempt by days of travel. You get lost in the gesture there, at the feel of it while he rubs his thumb on the inside of your wrist, soft circles of soothing affection. 

“Don’t you feel that it won’t be enough?”

His question grazes your skin, uttered so closely and making your eyes shift to his, their blue piercing through your soul like hot coals and you shiver. But inside, you feel warm, a bright glow filling your chest and you are sure its light can reach him, like you’re sharing the same hammering hearts, the same thoughts, meaningful words hanging in the air between you but unable to unhook. It’s almost painful, the ache that wants you closer to him, and when you lower your eyes to his lips there is suddenly no distance anymore, the caress over your inner wrist stopping to grip it softly.

The kiss is full of longing, lips entrapped against each other with carefulness, tender skin against tender skin and it’s overwhelming, right. You’re not sure about what you’re doing but you need it, Tom responding with the gentlest touch he has ever given you and a veil falls over your mind, the necessity to forget about the cold truth of the days to come filling every cell of your body, replaced by this instant. You wonder if he feels the same as you get lost in his, the pain you wanted to avoid out of reach. His tongue dances with yours at a slow pace, wishing time would go as leisurely, his pressure on your wrist binding you both in soft adoration.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you there? Oh-”

You shift instantly at the voice of your brother, his head appearing within the frame of the door just in time for Tom to back away from you in a fluid movement, distancing himself like you’d burned him. Albert wears a gobsmacked expression, glancing between you and Tom while the latter only stares at the ground with his head down. You, for your part, look at him unabashedly, waiting for him to speak, a frustrating feeling of loss coursing through your body.

“It’s time, we need to go,” Albert announces after an uncomfortable silence, and then he is gone, leaving you to look back at Tom still looking downwards, teeth digging into his bottom lip, looking like a teenager caught in the act.

When he meets your gaze, you cannot help the wide smile that spreads across your face. “Don't.”

“I didn’t say anything!” you laugh at Tom’s flustered expression, the shade of his cheeks adorable as you wonder if yours wears the same colour, feeling blissfully happy.

But when you both get up and go for the main house, stress gradually regains your nerves for what is to come.

Part 8

A/N: Thank you @babyblue711 & @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan as always, I won't be able to do much without you.

@chainsawsangel@mischiefmanaged71@depressedperson88@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan@yentroucnagol@tssf-imagines @nightdiamond8663 @lauraneedstochill @unleashthelion @helaenaluvr @omgkatherine01 @launotfound @r0segard3n

[noellie-writes217]

Word Diary

Chapter one: Whelve

Summary: Tom comes back from a hectic year to find his ex from his teens in his parents’ house. She’s got big plans for herself and all of Tom’s brothers know, he’s a risk for her.

Series warnings: Smut, exes to lovers, pining, additional warnings per chapter

Tom came home for the holidays on December twentieth of 2020 but was not expecting to see what he saw in his childhood home on that day. His mother sits there indulging in conversation with a friend she’s had since Tom was born.

“Tom! Honey! Look who’s here!” She points to her friend who’s been playing with a puppy.

“Hello Holly. It’s good to see you.” But it’s still really awkward given the history… but then again, Holly doesn’t know the history.

“Tom honey, come see Rosalind’s new puppy! His name is Cerberus.” Tom’s brows raise a little more when he hears the name.

Instead of kneeling and playing with the puppy immediately, he stands there for a second wondering if this is real or not.

He hears laughing from the kitchen, and then his younger brother Sam walks out with Holly’s daughter, Rosalind and a few dishes for dinner.

Once he sees Rosalind, everything stops for him. She’s wearing that smile she used to wear around him when they were alone and no one knew. The one he hasn’t seen in years. The one he’s dreamt of. The one Harrison has made fun of him for fantasizing over. The one he’s had no luck finding in any other girl. The one he fell in love with right before he left for carpentry school. It still hasn’t changed.

She looks up for a moment at him and her smile fades so she quickly leaves with Sam as he tells another story.

Harry of course notices and texts the brothers group chat calling an emergency meeting.

BROTHERS GROUPCHAT

Harry:Meeting in Paddy’s room. ASAP

Sam:why?

Paddy:Yeah and why my room?

Harry:All will be explained. Just get there

Tom:I just got home. Can it wait?

NON FAMOUS HOLLANDS

Harry: Tom’s still in love with Roz. He’s either gonna be a dick or a loser if we don’t talk to him about it. That’s why we need a meeting.

Sam: Seriously? Still? He was such a dick last time they saw each other.

Paddy: Agreed

Sam: If he starts acting like that again she might not just leave for Paris for school, she could leave forever

Harry: Thus why something. Needs. To. Be. Done.

Paddy: Meeting in my room

All of the brothers get to Paddy’s room in a short few minutes. And Tom is told to sit on his bed while the twins get ready to interrogate him and paddy guards the door.

“I saw the way you looked at her Tom,” Harry starts.

Tom tries (and fails) to bullshit through this conversation, “what are you talking about?”

“We’re talking about you being awkward about Roz being here,” Sam chimes.

“Roz is like a sister to us, and we’ve seen you fuck it up with her to the point where she left the fucking country,” Harry says, “so whatever your thinking about her, stop. She’s too good for you and everyone knows it but you apparently.”

Tom gets angry at his younger brothers for trying to tell him what to do. He has since they were all little… well, little-er. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Rosalind left so she go to ballet school in Paris. That had nothing to do with me.”

Now it’s Paddy’s turn to speak up, “Oh yeah? When was the last time you talked to her?”

5 years almost. Right before he went to carpentry school.

“Exactly.” “We lost a sister because you were a fucking asshole.” Sam crosses his arms. “And she probably wouldn’t have come back if it wasn’t for that other dick.” His twin copies his gesture.

‘Does Roz have an ex?’ He wonders. She does not. The dick that Tom’s brothers are referring to is Rosalind’s father, who just got his mistress pregnant. Rosalind moved back to England to support her mother during the divorce.

“Look, mates,” Tom starts, “do you even know what happened between me and Roz?” It’s silent for a moment. “Exactly. So don’t assume that just because I used to like her, I’ll automatically still be in love with her. I’m not. Nor have I ever been!”

What Tom didn’t know was that Rosalind heard everything that just happened.

Instead of busting in on them, she just goes back downstairs and decides to text Sam that his dish was ready.

“Shit, my foods done,” he states, “let’s call this a wrap for now and follow up later.”

The lot of them sit at the table eating the food Sam made.

Most if the conversation is made up by Tom’s parents and Rosalind’s mother. She compliments Sam on the food.

“Thank you so much, Holly. Roz made desert too, and it looks absolutely delicious. What’d you say it was?” Sam asks the girl.

“Lavender vanilla bean beignets.” She informs.

“My mouth is already watering with anticipation! That sounds lovely.” Tom’s father comments.

Roz has always been bashful when someone compliments her. Tom has always found it adorable… which is why he would compliment her any chance he had when they were teenagers.

“My friend’s mother taught me the recipe. She said it was a family recipe and I’m not allowed to tell anyone… so please don’t ask.” She jokes.

“Damn. That sucks. I was gonna ask for it.” Sam says.

Rosalind smiles lightly.

“So, Rosalind,” Nikki calls for the girl’s attention, “do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

“Moving into my new flat, meeting up with some old friends, and then I have a date.”

Holly’s mother peeps up, “be careful, darling. Unless you’re lucky enough to marry a Holland, men tend to disappoint.”

Holly doesn’t know about Roz and Tom. That they used to see each other after the sun went down, sneaking out of each other’s windows to mess around.

Holly was a nurse who usually worked nights and Rosalind’s father was just an idiot who didn’t notice Tom taking the condoms.

“Trust me Mum. I know.” Rosalind’s eyes shift up to Tom for less than a second but it’s enough for the other boys to notice. Harry kicks his shin.

“Actually, I should probably get going now. There’s a lot of stuff I need to unpack. And Cerberus is getting sleepy. But I do hope you all enjoy desert.” She politely gets up from the table.

Nikki clicks her tongue, “Oh, darling! I was so hoping you could stay so we could discuss our plans for Christmas! And Tom just got back from filming. It’d be so lovely if you’d stay.”

“Love, if it’s just unpacking I’m sure one of the boys could help you tomorrow.” Dom says.

It’s true. All four boys would be more than willing. But it would be far too soon for Roz to be ok with it.

“No no. It’s ok. I also have to figure out some choreo for some clients.”

“Well let me help you with your stuff.” Sam offers.

“So what exactly is your new job?” He asks once they’re alone.

Rosalind clips Cerberus’s collar and leash, “I’m a new ballerina for the royal ballet company. And when there’s time, I choreograph for musicians.”

He nods and grabs an umbrella. “You might want this.”

She smiles at the nostalgia, “I can’t believe you’ve had this in your umbrella bin all this time! Thank you Sammy.”

“You know you’re still the only person who gets to call me that.” He laughs

“What? Not even your girlfriend?”

“That’s still pretty new.” He explains, “you would have met her tonight, but she had her own family thing.”

“Well I’d love to meet her.” Rosalind pulls the strap of her bag onto her shoulder before opening the door. “And thanks for setting me up on that date.” She calls out before patting her thigh for Cerberus to follow her. She waved one last time to the boy before leaving on her way.

Little did either of them know that Tom heard the entire conversation between them.

“What the hell, Sam!” He claps his brother on the back once Rosalind is out of eyesight and earshot.

Sam shrugs, “You know, for a guy who said he was never in love with her, you seem to care an awful lot. Maybe I should set you up with someone too.” With that, Sam walks back inside.

[sobersonder]

Animal Crossing AU

I was thinking to call this AU "Less of a Nook, Double the Crooks" where the main thing is Tom Nook and Redd's beef never happened and Tom eventually became just like Redd. The two owns a shop in the black market together. Nothing matters to them except for bells and their loyalty to eachother. And yes, the tanuki and the fox still fight like an old married couple.

Due to this, Tom never adopted Timmy and Tommy. The twins were adopted by the Able Sisters instead. (Will be explaining further down below.)

Lyle was still once an insurance scammer who worked with the kitsune and tanuki duo but now owns the Happy Home Academy by himself. Without Tom, there is now a deadline/due day of rent, everyday of each playthrough [the player] needs to pay 15k bells.

------------

Additional Fun Facts:

⚜️ Sable didn't liked the idea of adopting the two tanukis since they remind her of Tom so much and she knows they'll struggle to feed more mouths in one roof, but Mable kept insisting.

⚜️ Timmy and Tommy would still have the shop called "Nukkling Junction". The spelling is changed because of not being adopted by Tom.

⚜️ Timmy and Tommy, fell asleep on a fruit truck when they were desperate to find food in the city that went into Tom's home town.

⚜️ Redd tried to scam Brewster, failed because of Blathers... And then Tom successfully scammed Blathers (The quote "If a kitsune has 7 tricks, a tanuki has 8" is very much prevalent.)

⚜️ Tom does sell furniture.

➥ The trick here is that occasionally you would receive fake furniture that would be just a pile of leaves. You'd only know if the item is fake by placing it in your house, leave the room where you put it, then go back to see the said pile of leaves.

➥ I still have a few ideas but those are still uncertain.

⚜️ I do headcanon that Joan is Tom's parental figure (I'm a Wild World user lmao). And when Joan saw what Tom had become she was devastated and disappointed! She very much blames Redd on this one

Edit:

⚜️ Pugsly is the one who will replace Tom Nook in the Resident Services. He will be there along side his sister because I want to give him the love that he deserves.

⚜️ Timmy and Tommy are older than their classic counter parts, they're around their teen years so to say. Even though their ages were not specified, their appearance would have some differences like they would be more taller, a little more chubbier since modern depiction of the tanuki yokai are usually fat (but hey, this is my hc for them!), etc.

⚜️ Tom does not know for the life of him to remember which is which with Timmy and Tommy. He kept confusing one over the other.

⚜️ Though, the twins still crave to have a parent figure that's the same species as them, they're still overall grateful for the Able Sisters taking them in

⚜️ Redd and Tom have the biggest beef with Lyle and to me it would just be so funny. Iykyk

------------

{Note: I don't really know if this AU has already been done with all of these concepts. This is just made for fun but if the name has been taken already, then I'm willing to change it :]]. If there's an AU similar to this, please send it to me because I wanna see it because I'm starving for more AC content. Again, this is just for fun I'd kill myself from cringe if I accidentally mischaracterized them 😭}

{I'll add more info if I remember or thought of!}

[seriouslysam8]

The only time I find teenage sex weird is when it doesn’t fit the character. For example I read a fic once where Ginny lost her virginity to Dean and didn’t enjoy it but did it because it made him happy. Previous to her relationship with Dean she allowed other guys to feel her up, because according to the writer she wanted to make a name for herself and didn’t want to be known as “(insert name of Wesley brother) little sister” (the writer was a male… surprise, surprise). She doesn’t tell Harry until it comes out as in the daily prophet and Dean was the one who leaked it out.

First off, it’s made clear canon Ginny is a romantic at heart, I cannot see her sleeping with someone she doesn’t love. I don’t think her and Dean were ever in love as there’s lots of problems within their relationship, and I think she started to notice around Christmas time Harry was starting to pay attention to her. There was probably some denial and a few attempts on her end to make sure it was true, but I think when she finally acknowledged it and that was then when her and Dean’s relationships fell apart. He became one of those guys who is a really nice guy and you don’t know how to call it quits so you find the smallest reason to end it.

Secondly, Ginny saying she’s going to make a name for herself by snogging, copping a feel, with a bunch of guys seemed like lowkey trying to slut shame a girl and do you really think that’s the only way a girl can make a fucking name for herself? There was so many different avenues that make Ginny great like her mental strength is phenomenal, her bravery, her heart, her personality, her intelligence, and her quidditch skills.

Even though Harry and Ginny’s relationship was for 6-7 weeks in canon, you can tell that it was a lot more intense than either of them had experienced. I think it’s equivalent to finding the missing piece in your life. I don’t think they had sex then, but I do think they did other things. With teenage hormones and how intensely they felt about each other (they were basically in love) I could see it happening if they spent another month together.

Now with Brumous, I think Harry’s biggest fear is Voldemort is going to see what is happening through his eyes if they do take their relationship further or try to possess him at that moment. I think that would be Harry’s biggest fear because that would traumatized Ginny in a way that he would fear she wouldn’t be able to separate Tom from him. I don’t think this will stop their hands from wandering and doing other things, but I don’t see them having sex until the Horcrux is removed or until Harry feels confident about his ability to block Voldemort out (even though I don’t think Voldemort can penetrate his mind when he’s snogging Ginny because of the love he has for her makes it that much harder for poor old Voldy). If they can’t remove the Horcrux by the time Harry has to leave for the hunt I could see them taking the next step in their relationship. I think at that point it would be something they both need to get them by all the time they’ll be spending apart. I don’t think it would be gross or awkward because of their age. I think it would kind of fit into their characters and would make sense. I know they are teenagers however, I think mentally they’re a lot older than anyone their age.

Anyways that’s just my two cents, sorry for the long post 😅

I love the long thought out posts!!

I think I’m just old and it’s weird for me to write Hinny that young, ya know??

[ms-oswald]

📖 Fic rec time! When you get this, reply with three fics that you've read and loved to pieces, then pass on to at least five other people who read fics. Let’s appreciate fic writers and their amazing stories 💖

i'm late - sorry. oh god, just three??

DANCING IN THE DARK | @arcielee | a tom bennett x ofc short story set during season 1 of world on fire. i am an avid lover of historical fictions, especially stories related to world war one and two - so reading DITD made me feel like i was reading one of the novels i just adore. arcie has such a way with using words and creating such beautiful compositions - it just makes your heart melt. the budding romance between tom and vera is *chef kiss*, and it being an open ending just makes you smile because you pray for a hea.

WE WERE SOMETHING DON'T YOU THINK SO? | @inthedayswhenlandswerefew | a ben hardy x ofc story. this is one of the fics that just comes to haunt me - in a good way. a historical fiction inspired by the russian revolution and the story of the romanov? sign me up. this was such a beautiful story, it makes you cry and hope for the oc and for ben. || another one that just struck me: HAVE YOU NO IDEA THAT YOU'RE IN DEEP?. a HOTD with aemond x reader. this one killed me and i think of it often because i'm still crying over it, but fck it was good. it's one of the stories that just sucks you in and makes you scream at the top of your lungs from all the emotional rollercoaster.

WOLF-HEART | @gemini-mama | a finan x ofc fic set during the time gap in season 2. this was such a great read - faoladhean has become one of the ocs i love so much. the multi-chaptered fic was written with such detail and with such careful descriptions, the relationship between finan and faoladhean blossomed so beautifully, i was completely smitten. and she has such strength and such love to give, i can't wait to see where the sequel goes. She-Wolf for the win.

i know it says 3, but i don't think i'll be getting another one, so i need to add more or i'mma explode.

CRIMES OF PASSION | @itbmojojoejo | RUNA. i love you. a take of 50's London with the tlk crew? a love triangle between between our ofc, sihtric and finan? fck yes. bring it on. mojo created an oc that just makes you wish you knew her in real life. she is wild - which i adore - and the pacing of the story, the characters, the dynamic. love it all. can't wait to see the ending. i know i will cry, i got tissues ready. RUNA. let's be friends?

A THOUSAND YEARS | @persephones-journey | a staple for finan x oc fics, this series was one of the first i stumbled upon when i started reading tlk fics and i immediately fell in love. the level of angst and passion these stories have - the relationship between finan and aisling, all their ups and downs - it has your heart doing somersaults in all kinds of direction. the level of dedication to expand this au is amazing and i love every word of it. aisling has become one of my fave ocs - a fiery character, hardheaded, stubborn and yet has such a big heart. i can't wait to see where her story goes.

FIRE IN HER EYES | @emilyhufflepufftlk | another tlk series, a beautiful love story between finan x lucinda. these stories broke my heart in so many ways and yet i could not get enough of them. i loved the story and development of the relationship between finan and lucinda and i also loved her sisters and the family they created - this was done beautifully and worth the heartache and tears. lucinda had such love from finan, her children and from everyone around her - you wished you were part of it all.

[sunshine-on-marz]

Ok but like...

Cooking stream with Tommy..

Baking a cake with Tommy on stream, hands around his neck swaying back and forth to the music in the background-

Please write something about this bestie I'm desperate-

- 🌸

I GOT CHU

You and Tommy had gotten all the supplies and now the two of you where setting up stream you bent over the counter and your hair fell into your eyes. “Tommmmm” “yes love?” He turned to you “can you put my hair up?” He always had a hair tie on his wrist for when you needed it. He leaned towards you and pulled back your hair. When he leaned close enough he also kissed your neck. “I love youuu” you giggled a bit and turned to kiss him back. [skip to the start of stream] “HELLO BOYS” you smiled a bit and leaned onto Tommy’s shoulder, he turned to you and lifted you, you wrapped your legs around his hips and kissed his cheeks. “Hi chat!” You turned to see the camera. Tommy spun the both of you around and laughed. “Alright boys, tonight we are baking!” About 30 minutes later you where whisking eggs and Tommy was swaying you along to the Able Sisters beat playing in the background. “Chat, chat I’m so lucky, look at them, they’re so gorgeous” you blushed and hid your face in his arms. “Stoppp” the both of you giggled as you finished mixing the batter. “Bubba, can your put this in the oven?” You poured the batter into a pan and slid it to him. “God damn, you’re lucky I love you” he carefully used a rag to put the pan in the oven. After about 45 minutes of talking to chat and dancing around the kitchen the oven timer clicked. Tommy took the cake out of the oven and you grabbed the frosting. As soon as you opened it Tommy had scooped some onto his finger then onto your nose. “TOM!” You giggled and he kissed your nose. “Tastes good” you laughed and grabbed a napkin to clean off the frosting. After a bit the cake was frosted and the two of you where being dumb and feeding the other like airplanes. Chat adored every second and the edits where coming out for DAYS.

—————

WOOOOO THIS TOOK HOURS-

[evita-shelby]

Let me wrap my teeth around the world

For @arcielee on their 1k follower milestone and based on Eat Your Young

So this is part of my Peaky Blinders/World on Fire crossover fic, Tie Your Heart to Mine, where Tom meets, falls in love with and eventually marries Tommy Shelby’s clairvoyant daughter, Diane.

Douglas Bennett should have never named his only son after him.

Thomas Shelby shouldn’t have offered him the job.

But after the war, Tom needed a way to make ends meet and his pride pricked at the idea of having Diane, Shelby’s eldest girl and Bennett’s young wife, being the breadwinner of the family.

The boy who had been a burden to his father and sister now chaffed at the mere idea of him not being man enough to sustain his family.

The man he became wasn’t satisfied with the life he had, being a simple bookmaker no longer cut.

Just like working with horses and rigging races weren’t enough for Tommy when he returned from France.

If you gave either of them the world as a meal, it still wouldn't be enough to fill them up.

“Your father wouldn’t like this.” The Devil of Birmingham said cleaning his glasses with a cloth as they negotiated this deal.

He'd taken over the midlands and even London, but he’d never touched Manchester.

Now Thomas Michael Bennett offered him the land for a price.

Shelby Company Limited had begun amassing factories and property there when Diane fell in love with the boy and asked for the car part company to stay with him.

Now the Shelby Family was being offered it all by someone who knows the city like the back of his hand and is tied to him by marriage and the precious blood of his first grandson.

A tempting offer.

“He was my dad. I didn't have to like him, he didn't have to like me.” But he was my dad.

Thomas Shelby could hear it in the dead boy’s voice ear as day even if he didn’t say it.

It was a mercy Douglas had died, it would kill him to see his boy die and in his shell be a man hardened by war and death.

“Welcome to the family, kid.” Thomas Shelby tossed him a crown for fit for a prince.

A peaked cap with razors sewed on the edge.