#tom would be like can you empty the bins

[ihaveapicrewaddiction]

Thank you Naylissa for the picrew <3

The main cast of the Sonic 3 movie

[darkshinesbringingmedoooown]

-Spare Me- (Edit: Now titled ‘House of Cards’ and continued on ao3 ^_^ )

Based off of the Eddisode "Spares". Tord tricks Tom into thinking he's a nicer clone of himself to imprison him in his lab. Part 1 of ?? - Smutty smutty chapter ;) Enjoy!

“I think we made the right choice”, Edd said.

“Oh yes, definitely”, Tord replied, mirroring the gang’s playful relief that they replaced Tom with another shiny new Matt. In the back of his mind, he hoped his discarded roommate didn’t wander off from the bin before he could come and have his way with him…

Luckily he didn’t have to wait too long, Larry kind of killed the mood when he snapped and called everybody morons. 

“You’ll have to excuse him, he gets cranky from constantly being shadowed by my brilliance”, the Evil Director apologized as he ushered his grumbling associate out the front door. 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m pooped”, Edd declared, getting up to throw away his Coke can. 

“Let’s call it a night, we’ll worry about cleaning this mess up tomorrow”, Edd waved them goodnight and stepped over dead bodies of themselves on the way to his room. 

Matt and Matt and Tord followed suit, sluggishly getting up from the couch as well, sore from the evening’s ass-whooping they inflicted on their clones. 

“Well, Matt, since you’re going by ‘Tom’ now, why don’t I show you to his/your room?”, Matt offered to his other self.

“Do I have to? Your room has all the mirrors. I don’t want to sleep in that smelly den! Isn’t wearing the blue hoodie enough?” New Tom whined.

Matt felt conflicted, not wanting to subject the handsome creature to the punishment of having to fully adopt the role of New Tom. But if he conceded, he’d have to share his room…His mirrors…His bed…..It didn’t sound very conducive to getting the restorative beauty sleep he was used to. The look of concern fell from his face and turned into indifference.

“Know your place, New Tom”

“N’awww”, New Tom frowned and shuffled to his new bedroom. 

Matt happily strolled to his room of sanctuary.

Tord stood there, watching the scene finish playing out, and waited for their doors to shut. 

“Freaks”

He padded to the living room window and looked out at the recycling bin. Tom was still there, unmoving. He didn’t look dead- just….defeated. Tord didn’t want to risk his other roommates catching him with what he was about to do. 

Clearly, Tom wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and Tord wasn’t worried he’d disappear if he were to wait in his room while he gave the others time to settle in and get to sleep. But still, he stood there, reveling in the feeling of anticipation and the sensations it brought. Tord’s breath grew excited as he fantasized how his ruse would play out. 

One would think that spending the evening killing clones of one another in all sorts of creative fashions would’ve helped alleviate the aggression they felt towards one another. But it wasn’t enough for Tord. There was something else he needed to do while he had the opportunity..

…..

Tom sighed, uncomfortable in his crumpled-up position. His limbs had fallen asleep after being contorted into the tiny rubbish bin for over an hour. He stared up at the sky, the surrounding city lights drowned the stars out and left it looking like an endless void. A perfect mirror to the black eyes looking up and feeling vast and empty inside. What did he do to even deserve this? How could they pick a second Matt over him? One Matt was annoying enough….But I guess he had no room to talk, given the overwhelming consensus. He didn’t even want to try and get out of there and come back inside. Surely the other Matt had taken his room. The thought of his roommates looking disappointed to see him on the couch the next morning was enough for Tom to stay out in the cold. He closed his eyes, accepting his resting place for the night.

Footsteps softly made their way close to Tom. He figured it was probably a raccoon coming to dine on whatever was freshly left out. Whatever. He didn’t care if it came to nibble on the banana peel stuck to his head. It’s not like the day could get any worse-

“Hey”, a hushed voice spoke above him. An arm gently poked his shoulder. Tom recognized the accent and groaned.

“Go away.” He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to entertain however the Norski was about to rub his face in the situation.

“Now, now”, Tord said with a smile in his voice, “I know you’re a pretty weird guy, but I don’t think this is anybody’s idea of relaxation, being squashed into the trash like that.”

“Fuck off, Turd”

“I just wanted to see if you were okay, I swear! It’s freezing out here, you should come inside, Tom”, Tord’s hand was back on Tom’s shoulder, it felt oddly….reassuring. Maybe that was just from the bar being set so low from the day’s treatment towards him. Tom was looking up at him now, his neutral gaze trying to assess what was going on behind Tord’s uncharacteristically pleasant stare. 

“Why are you , of all people, being nice to me right now?” Tom squinted. Hand still on him, Tord crouched down next to him to meet his eyes at his level. 

“Can I tell you a secret, Tom?”

“I feel like you will even if I say no, so, whatever. Go ahead.”

“In the middle of the excitement earlier, I took it upon myself to take out the real Tord”, he giggled.

 “As you might have noticed earlier”, he continued, “not all the clones turned out exactly like their originals. Same memories, sure, but not the exact same personality. Don’t get me wrong, both of us have the same penchant for violence, so it was easy to get the job done. But basically, I didn’t approve of the way he handled a lot of things. The world would be better off with a more reasonable version of myself. When reflecting upon our shared memories, I feel that, you, especially, fell into the category of Things He Never Handled Right”. 

Tom didn’t know how to process this information. Was he being serious? It seemed too good to be true. But then again, there was no way in a million years the real Tord would be acting this…Kind? Kind to Tom?? Yeah, the real Tord would’ve called him stupid for believing something like that for even a second. The real Tord would’ve kicked the trashcan over and left him to flail about while he laughed his ass back into the house. Maybe it was because he was just so tired and uncomfortable, but he decided to believe him. 

“I…..Fine. If you’re telling the truth, then you really did do all of us a favor. The real Tord absolutely sucks. It sure would save Matt and Edd a lot of headaches not having to hear us fighting all the time.” 

Tord restrained himself from responding how he would normally and sighed, standing up now. He held his hand out to Tom, offering him some stability while he wiggled his way out of the bin. 

Tom just stared at his hand, hesitating to speak. He was embarrassed to ask for more help than what was being given.

“What is it?”, Tord said.

“My….Um- my…… Ugghh .. shit… .My limbs kind of fell asleep a while ago in here. I can’t move them”. Tom blushed in anger. He didn’t care if this was a nicer version of the roommate he constantly feuded with. He was sure this version would still take joy from seeing Tom in such a pathetic predicament. 

“That’s fine. Don’t worry about it”, Tord reassured and stepped closer, hooking his right arm under Tom’s knees, his left arm wrapping under his arms. With surprising ease, Tom was lifted out of the trash and placed carefully onto his feet. Tord tried keeping him propped up with his left arm under Tom’s right arm, but his deadened weight took him by surprise as Tom crumbled in on his jello legs.

“Ahhh!!”

“Shit, sorry”, Tord lifted him back up, wrapping both arms around him this time. Tom didn’t know how to feel about this. He’d rather not be on the ground, but, this was ... .Weird. So weird. 

“Just let me know when the blood comes back into those legs. I know it takes a while for the TV static stage to pass. Then we can walk back inside”, Tord wrapped his arms around Tom a little tighter, “I’ll kill two birds with one stone and keep you warm in the meantime”, he breathed into his neck.

“Ummm…”, Tom hated the feeling blossoming in the pit of his stomach. His warm breath felt so good against his skin. This was the first time he had ever seen this side of Tord. Underneath all their bickering, Tom had always felt an undeniable attraction to his roommate. But there was no way for their heated arguments to have had the chance to ever turn into anything hot and heavy. This new Tord….Maybe things could be different. Maybe this new Tord was just less afraid of showing what the original also felt deep down….No. Tom was just thinking crazy now. He was reading way too much into this. Regardless, he was going to enjoy the moment just a little longer. His arms were back to normal, but he kept them at his side, not wanting to give away that he was stretching out the time spent in his embrace.

“Tord”, he said finally after a while.

Tord lifted his face from the crook of his neck, his eyes darted above his head, and released one of his arms momentarily to brush some trash out of Tom’s hair before wrapping it around his back again. His face was just an inch from Tom’s. His eyes were soft. The electricity Tom felt from their lip’s proximity to each other made his legs weak all over again.

Get it together, man.

“Yes, Thomas?” 

Oh my god.

“I-I think I can walk now”, he pulled away from Tord’s embrace. Stumbling back, he brushed himself off from any remaining debris on his clothes. 

“....Thanks.” Tom managed to get out, not looking at him.

“Of course, what are friends for?”, Tord smiled, looking pleased to see his roommate back on his feet. “Just one thing, the other Matt is sleeping in your room. You’re welcome to sleep in mine. The couch simply won’t do after the day we’ve had, after all.”

“Yeah, fine”, Tom relented. 

They walked back inside, quietly opening and closing doors, careful not to wake the others. Inside, Tom kicked off his shoes and was about spring into the bed and pass out, when a hand pulled onto his sweater mid-leap.

“You can’t be serious. You’ve been stewing in filth, go take a shower.” Tord threw a towel at him.

Tom snorted and ripped the towel off his head. “Whatever”, he shuffled into the bathroom. This shade of Tord felt more familiar than the one who held him outside. 

…

A shower was everything Tom needed right now. He stood there for a bit, letting the hot water wash the day off of him, enjoying how nice it felt. His eyes scanned the selection of products, surprised at Tord’s expensive taste. He helped himself to his lavish soaps, and steam wrapped the air around him with scents of sandalwood and clove. The door creaked a little as it opened and Tom froze mid-shampoo, his hands stuck still on top of his head and foam running down his face. He didn’t even realize his mouth was open in shock until the shampoo made its way down. He spit the shampoo out frantically and tried regaining his composure. Tord was already naked, resting his own towel onto the rack before hopping in beside Tom. 

“You couldn’t wait until I was finished?” Tom complained, crossing his arms. 

“This version of me is quite the environmentalist, I don’t like wasting water if I can help it. We can share, no?”

“Why didn’t you get in sooner then?”

“I had to give you a head start. You reeked.”

Tom glared at him, unamused.

“C’mon Tom, it’s no big deal, I’m already in here. However”- he leaned over Tom, reaching over to the knobs behind him, turning one further clockwise. He took his sweet time doing so, pressing against Tom in the small space. -“There we go. Had to turn the heat up a little,” he said low in his ear.

Shit. Tom’s body flushed with excitement, trying to calm himself down only made him more excited, it was a losing battle, a game of tug of war he could barely hold onto. He couldn’t let Tord see him getting hard. Before Tord could fully pull away and see his effect on him, Tom panicked and quickly squeezed way too much from the open shampoo bottle over his head and lathered a helmet of bubbles onto Tord’s head.

“Tom, what are you doing? ”, he wasn’t expecting this, but he indulged Tom’s silly little antics. He closed his eyes so the shampoo wouldn’t run down and make them sting. 

“Just …Wanted to repay you a little for helping me out earlier”, Tom lied, hoping he could will his boner away by the time he rinsed off.

Tord had known Tom long enough to recognize when he was hiding something. The way his voice pitched up, his frantic mannerisms. He found it amusing. He didn’t need his eyes to know that Tom was feeling flustered. Hearing him try to hide the fact only made Tord want to rile him up even more. 

“Well, that’s very nice of you, Tom. But if I recollect, you were in the middle of your own lather”- he reached up and ran his hands to briefly cup the base of his neck, moving up to glide his fingers through his hair and caress his scalp. 

Tom tried his best to keep calm. If he freaked out, Tord would for sure know he was having an effect on him. What if this new Tord was just a genuinely nicer, more affectionate genre of his former self? Would he think Tom was just some pervert if he caught him aroused at something as mundane as a shampoo? His eyes were still closed, so Tom decided to follow suit and shut his as well. Instead of the whole “Try not to think of an elephant” route (the elephant being his hard-on), he figured the next best move would be to try genuinely relaxing into the activity they partook in. 

The sound of running water filled their silence, as the two continued massaging their fingertips through each other’s heads. Neither didn’t want to admit just how nice it felt. Tom pushed down the hum of content trying to escape from his throat. Tord had stepped back in closer, and Tom’s eyes popped open. He could feel his hard cock poking against his thigh. Tord looked right back at him with a playful smirk. The product had washed away from their hair by now, but their hands remained cupping each other’s heads. The erection Tom had finally settled down was coming back in full force, batting against Tord’s fullness as his rose. 

“Thomas, you don’t have to worry. I’m not the same as the Tord you knew. You can just…Let it happen”, he leaned in and pressed his lips into Tom’s. 

Tom’s heart raced as he sighed and reciprocated the kiss. He brought one arm down to wrap around his lower back. There was no hiding or stopping it now. They sunk deeper into their kisses. Tord sucked on Tom’s bottom lip and moaned, grabbing his neck and slowly grinded their cocks together. Tom whimpered, needing more, quickly, but Red continued setting the pace, sliding his wet mouth over his and slipping his tongue in to greet Tom’s. Fuck. He could barely catch his breath, his heart was doing a little Irish jig in his chest. Something had to give.

“Get on your knees.”

It was Tom who spoke. Tord pulled his head away, raising an eyebrow in surprise at the firm tone in his desperate command.

“Oh?”

“You heard me, Commie. Kneel for me. Show me how sorry you are for how the other Tord treated me.” 

Before Tom could see him grimace in response, Tord gripped his hair and pulled his head back, kissing and sucking hard on his neck.  Masking his anger with passion was the only outlet he had for being bossed around without blowing his cover.

Fine, he reasoned with himself, It’ll be worth it when I finally get Tom where I want him. I need to be convincing if I want to lull him into enough of a sense of security to carry out my plan. 

He eased up on his roughness and lightly brushed his lips along to Tom’s ear, now kissing it gently as he held him close. 

“As you wish”, he breathed, sucking his earlobe. His lips pecked their way along his jawline and back to his lips, giving him another passionate kiss. 

“I truly am sorry, Tom. I regret the time we wasted hating each other for no good reason”, he murmured against his mouth.

“I  want to take-”, he kissed-

“every instance I’ve hurt you-”, he bit Tom’s lip, ran his tongue over it, and suckled, making Tom moan-

 “-and replace it with a new memory-”, he bit his jaw and grabbed his cock, giving it several pumps as he spoke-

“-of me making you feel good.” 

The convincing earnestness in his voice rang through Tom’s ears like warm honey that enveloped his thoughts and doubts, slowing time itself to a standstill.

Tom trembled as he failed to maintain his composure. Holy Bazooka on a Beagle. 

He lacked the capacity to respond with anything particularly clever. The only thing he could manage was rare sincerity.

“Thank you, Tord”, he sighed. His vulnerable state was driving Tord wild. Under the cover of this falsehood, he easily managed to break down Tom’s walls. His cocked ached imagining how heavy his impending betrayal would hit Tom. Fuck. His hips squirmed in delicious frustration as he smiled and hummed and kissed his way down the other man’s chest. My perfect little plaything. He laved his tongue over his right nipple, lapping at the sensitive nub and gently running his hand up and down the length of his cock. 

“Oh- Tord ”, Tom whined and panted unabashedly as Tord glided his mouth across Tom’s chest, nuzzling his chest hair and planting soft, audible pecks en route to the other side of this chest. Tord’s wet mouth latched on to swirl his tongue and tenderly bite down on Tom’s other hard nipple. His thumb was able to circle the head of Tom’s penis with ease from the increasing presence of precum. Tom was fully under his spell, eyes closed and head back, hands still grabbing onto Tord’s shoulders.

Tord kissed his way down, Tom's erection twitching as the other man held onto his sides to then slide his hands down to cup the back of his thighs. He knelt now before him. Tord’s heavy eyelids looked entranced as he planted more soft kisses on his hips and stomach, his breath teasing his cock and he passed it to alternate sides. Tom’s hips writhed in agony, wishing he would just get on with it. 

“Tord, pleaaase ” he moaned. 

Tord felt better regaining a little sense of control in this position. He was so hard seeing how needy Tom was for him. Tord, please, the begging was enough to make his own cock begin to drip.

“Please, what?” He exhaled against his swollen head, smirking up at him playfully. 

“Please, please,  suck my cock. I need your mouth around me. Blow me, god, please”, his brows furrowed in frustration as he looked down at his object of desire. Of course, any version of Tord wasn’t going to acquiesce so easily without a little teasing. 

Tord smirked and relented.

“Good boy”, his accent made Tom throb, his hypnotic gaze erased any ability to think coherently. Tord lifted his cock with one hand and swept his flat, wet tongue side to side, licking up from the base of his erection to the tip, taking his head into his mouth and swirling his tongue around deliberately, flicking at his frenulum and never breaking his gaze. His lips curled up as he tasted his salty precum dribbling out. Tom’s frantic expression and shaky breathing was quite a sight, his hips squirmed with increasing fervor and his chest heaved, craving more. Tord slid the rest of his length into his mouth, closing his eyes in concentration as he moaned and hummed in delight, bobbing his head at a moderate pace, every suck allowing Tom’s head to thrust against the back of Tord’s throat. Tom’s hips rocked to match their rhythm. His balls were taut, nearing climax, overwhelmed by the inviting wetness of Tord’s mouth that was slobbering up and down his length so dutifully. He ached in fear that this Tord would pull something like denying him at the last second, edge him for a maddening amount of time until he begged just right. He really fucking hoped not. 

The bathroom tile was making Tord’s knees sore. He kept his hands wrapped around Tom’s thighs for stability and sensed him close to ejaculating. The hot water was running out and he preferred not to stay uncomfortable and lukewarm longer than he had to. He always knew Tom had feelings for him deep down, and knew exactly what button to push to send him over the edge. 

Tord slowly slid his cock out of his mouth, maneuvering it to stay propped up against his chin. His half-lidded eyes softly looked up into Tom’s delirious voids and breathed his next words against the tip of his leaking head.

“I love you”

Immediately he sunk back to take all of Tom’s length, sucking and slurping the hot cum shooting down his throat. He freed one hand from Tom’s thigh to fondle his balls and pressed a finger against his perineum. 

“Fuck , Tord. Oh, fuck ooooohhh fuck ahhhh, god ” shock-waves coursed through his body and his string of helpless moans filled the night. Tord’s words sent pleasure from his groin and sent the feeling rushing out to his whole body. His heart and stomach fluttered with tingling ecstasy. His mind looped it over and over again. I love you. Each replay of the moment continued sending sweet voltage through this skin. 

Tord took him out from his mouth and stood, pulling him in to place some kisses on his burning neck. God, he’s so stupid, he smirked against his skin. He grabbed the top of Tom’s hand and placed it on his dick, guiding him as they both held on and stroked his length. Tord bit onto Tom’s trap muscle, huffing and moaning and they pumped his cock faster now. He’s such a gullible fuck. The rhythm of his bucking hips struggled to maintain their tempo as he mentally worked himself up. So easy to fool. His cock throbbed harder and Tord whined. Tom was obligingly stroking Tord’s with his fist around his, resting his head against Tord’s temple, panting and intermittently kissing his head.

Tord envisioned the look of horror and betrayal that would soon paint Tom’s face tomorrow morning, chained up in his laboratory. This lovesick idiot has no clue.

Classic, stupid Tom.

“Oh, fuck ”, Tord’s vision went white as he mewled into Tom’s neck, frenetically thrusting into Tom’s hand as they milked him to completion. 

“Aauuunnnnh ”, The tepid shower water brought contrast to Tord’s hot cum spurting against their stomach and thighs. His head swam in ecstasy as the warm glaze of his seed slowly washed down the drain. Tord, still breathless, lifted his face to rest his forehead against Tom's. He opened his eyes to see Tom softly looking back at him with a drowsy smile. Red felt an unfamiliar twang in his chest. Useless brain chemicals.

He delivered one final disingenuous peck on Tom’s mouth before hopping out of the shower to towel off.

“It’s late.....Let's get to bed”

Tom stood dazed, staring after Tord as he retreated to his bedroom.

___________________

To be continued :)

[authortobenamedlater]

Okay, I finally worked my way here.

For the '100 ways to say I love you' prompts.

17 for Tom and Chyler

23 for John and Cortana

24 for Riz and Vannak!

And I can finally answer! At least one. Will do the rest in reblogs.

Shoehorned this into an idea I’ve had for a few months. One of the few MWAS ideas that did not come from real life, though we do have a Roomba.

—

17. “Watch your step.”

Chyler woke up to an empty bed and a light on in the kitchen.

Tom must be back. Chyler stood up and exited the bedroom, carefully dodging the robovac. “Tom?”

“In here,” Tom called from the tiny kitchen.

“Hey.” Chyler greeted her still-uniformed husband with a hug from behind.

“Hi,” Tom said in between bites of cheese. “Sorry I’m so late.”

Chyler flattened her cheek against his back. “Well, you’re going for the cheese, not the whiskey, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Tom humphed. “Wasn’t bad, just long.” He turned around to return Chyler’s hug.

The robovac trundled into the kitchen and bumped against a cabinet twice before continuing its lap around the room’s perimeter.

“I ever tell you how much those creep me out?” Tom asked as the vacuum crossed into the living area.

“Oh, please,” Chyler sighed.

“I’m telling you, it’s spying on us.”

“You know those things have been around for centuries.”

“Centuries of data collection,” Tom said conspiratorially.

“With which they have done absolutely nothing,” Chyler countered. “Not very good spies.”

The vacuum rolled along the edge of the couch.

“That’s what they want us to think,” Tom said.

“Do you want to vacuum your own rug?” Chyler asked pointedly.

“Not really.”

Chyler laughed and stood on tiptoe to kiss her husband’s cheek. “Well, if the robovac is a spy maybe we should go where it can’t see us.”

“Hm, good idea,” Tom yawned. “You go ahead. Let me put all this away.”

“Tom Lasky, putting things away?” Chyler asked with mock astonishment.

“Quiet,” Tom grumbled, but he was smiling.

Chyler smiled back and headed to the bedroom. She grabbed her compad on the way to the bed and started to look for new messages before thinking better of it. Roland would alert her and Tom to something urgent. Everything else could wait—

A thud and holler from the living area interrupted Chyler’s train of thought.

“Tom!” Chyler leapt off the bed and threw the door open. Tom was sprawled on the floor clutching his right foot, the Robovac slinking away like a kid trying to avoid Mom and Dad’s wrath.

“Watch your step!” Chyler exclaimed unthinkingly.

“A little late for that, don’t you think?” Tom gritted.

“What happened?!”

“What’s it look like happened?” Tom groaned.

“Is it broken?” Chyler bent over and tried to examine Tom’s foot.

“How should I know?” Tom dropped his head onto the floor. “Ah, hurts like a you-know-what.”

“I’ll, uh,” Chyler bit her lip. “I’ll pick you up.”

“I don’t think that’s happening, babe,” Tom said between hisses.

“I’ll call medical.” Chyler started back to the room for her compad.

“No need, Commander Silva.” Roland’s voice broke into the chaos. “I’ve already summoned medical attention. ETA five minutes.”

“Good.” Chyler nodded at the ceiling.

The robovac began dutifully edging around Tom’s side.

“Roland, turn this damn thing off!” Tom snapped.

“Right away, Captain.”

Chyler watched the vacuum return to its stand, then looked back to Tom. “How’s the—”

The vacuum began emptying its bin.

“How’s the foot?” Chyler asked once the noise subsided.

Tom lifted his head to glare at the robovac. “Told you that thing was bad news,” he panted.

The machine emitted a beep, almost as if in protest.

[denimbex1986]

'David Tennant’s comeback tour as the Doctor began with the glorified greatest hits set that was “The Star Beast”– a sweet, funny slab of kid-friendly telly that lovingly scratched its audience under the chin. But returning showrunner Russell T Davies had promised that “Wild Blue Yonder”, the second of Tennant’s three 60th anniversary instalments, would be “darker… not scary… just genuinely weird”. He wasn’t joking.

There have always been many sides to the BBC’s most beloved sci-fi franchise. One of its more distinctive flavours is “Weird Who” (remember those killer wheelie bins from Davies’s first season in 2005?).

It is a tradition that the enjoyably bonkers “Wild Blue Yonder” follows with a spring in its stride. Set aboard a haunted starship, this second adventure featuring the reunited Doctor and Donna (Catherine Tate) tips its hat to Ridley Scott’s original Alien. Meanwhile, its plunge into claustrophobic body horror suggests a familiarity with the Dead Space video games.

Whatever the inspiration, it’s great fun – illuminated by the livewire enthusiasm of the two leads. And that’s despite a worrying moment when the Doctor references the dreadful and completely baffling Chris Chibnall’s “Flux” story arc from 2021, which made even hardcore Whovians feel adrift in time and space.

Never mind, the script pushes swiftly on, and we can again forget Flux ever happened. Nevertheless, some fans may be slightly underwhelmed. The BBC hasn’t done itself any favours by keeping the plot of “Wild Blue Yonder” under wraps. In so doing, it has fuelled wild speculation among Whovians – to the point where director Tom Kingsley had to take to Twitter to dampen the hype. “The story of ‘Wild Blue Yonder’ isn’t a secret because there are any surprise returning actors or villains,” he wrote. “It’s just because we thought you might find it fun to watch it without knowing what’s going to happen next.”

“The Star Beast” ended with Donna spilling coffee on the Tardis control panel and sending the machine into the temporal vortex. Taking up the story, “Wild Blue Yonder” has the pair initially materialise atop a tree in England in 1666 – watched on by an astonished Isaac Newton. “Was it me or was Isaac Newton hot?” Donna later wonders. The Doctor nods: “He was so hot.” Then, a pause. “Oh, is that who I am now?”

It is the latest indication that his sexuality may be more fluid than historically believed (as already broadly hinted during the Jodie Whittaker years). Donna shrugs: “It was never that far from the surface, mate.”

His orientation is the least of their concerns. The Tardis has beamed aboard a spaceship while its speakers blast “Wild Blue Yonder” – the anthem of the US Air Force. Why a war song? And why vanish suddenly – stranding the Doctor and Donna?

The Doctor has a theory about the latter. The Tardis has a “Hostile Action Displacement System”, which kicks in when danger is near. It’s taken itself off somewhere safe – presumably to return when the coast is clear.

In the meantime, the duo have a vast spaceship to explore. A sad robot shuffles down a corridor, and a command bridge looks out at sheer emptiness. They’re at the very edge of the universe – gazing into a terrifying void where only madness lurks. Viewers can replicate the experience at home by tuning into the next episode of I’m a Celebrity…Get Me Out of Here!

But they’re not as alone as they think. The ship is also home to a pair of shape-shifting aliens, who turn into carnival mirror approximations of the Doctor and Donna. Comedy and horror bump against each other as the doppelgängers struggle to keep it together. “My arms are too long,” says the fake Doctor, dragging two massive rubberised hands like an oversized bendy toy.

Davies is correct to describe “Wild Blue Yonder” as more weird than scary. It’s a hoot seeing the real Doctor and Donna chased by the amorphous ETs, who briefly grow so large that they wedge the corridor like exiles from a Lovecraftian clown show.

There is further fun along the way as Davies replays the old TV trope of two lookalikes, each pretending to be the “real” version of someone. He also comes up with the clever idea of the aliens feeding on the anger and fear of the Doctor and Donna. It reads like a commentary on how social media monetises our darkest emotions (the monsters are temporarily powerless when Doctor and Donna clear their minds).

This is the point at which Chibnall-era Who would try to be clever by chucking in extra story elements and confusing everyone. Davies plays it straight, keeps it simple, and allows the Doctor and Donna to outsmart the shape-shifters, whose ultimate plan is to mimic the newcomers so perfectly that they can take control of the Tardis.

They are defeated, of course, and it’s back to London. There, we are treated to a moving cameo by Donna’s grandfather, Wilfred Mott, played by the late Bernard Cribbins in one of his final screen appearances (which sets up next week’s adventure when a passenger jet screams overhead and crashes).

One of the most impressive aspects of these new Tennant adventures is their determination to play it straight. Davies’s big return could easily have tripped up on its self-importance. The 60th anniversary is on the way, and Tennant is making history as the first Doctor to return for an entire arc.

But all of that is left unstated. Davies, Tennant and Tate are here because they love the Doctor. That uncomplicated enthusiasm ripples through an episode that is ultimately just another great helping of Who.'

[bisluthq]

to be fair matty does not look well at all lol i don't think it's related like to taylor directly (we wouldn't ever know anyway and to meEe both can't stand each other rn. like at all) but it probably has something to do with the hate he's been getting since may 2023 (self-inflicted tbh) ans swifties. even his fans who aren't maylors and don't hate gabbriette (gabby has nothing to do with it and isn't responsible for a grown ass man, people who blame her are misogynists asf) realized this after that spiral back in november and he admitted it. i don't like him anymore but i hope he gets better anyway.

no swiftie thinks tom hiddleston is miserable afaik but i would say that thinking your fave's ex to be pinning for them is very much part of stan culture. i think it's ridiculous but like it's just wishful thinking and self projecting. matty fans think taylor wants him back while matty dgaf, joe fans think taylor is still not over joe even though she left him, swifties think joe is not over her in the year of 2025 even though he never gave anyone any reason for anyone to think that. selenators think justin still wants selena even though that man is married, just had a baby and shows no sign of wanting her back, and so it goes 😂

it makes a modicum of sense to me like psychologically because stans obviously love whichever person they stan right and I think they can’t comprehend like… not loving that person. Like I think they can’t understand that these are real people with real human emotions and much like you know you can get over your bf/gf/husband/wife and make them your ex and then like be very over your ex soooo can celebs. Also, and I find this interesting too, stans always link media/the persona to the problems the couple face. (I don’t mean what you’re saying about Matty and how the online hate gets to him personally which I think is very true). Like everything that happens to celebs must, to stans, be linked to fans or moments we witness and that’s just so naive to me? Because again, these are real people. So presumably much of the shit that pisses them off about each other has fuck all to do with their jobs/circumstances and everything to do with like… how we sometimes just get over people because that’s how life works. I know I harp on and on about it but I just don’t believe that the bulk of fights/issues these people have have to do with an article or what Jenny from Kansas said on Twitter yk like they’re ALL more likely to be arguing about regular boring shit (like idk the guy leaving clutter around lol like my bf likes these little cappuccino sachet thingies and he never throws the empties away and it drives me fucking mental and I said this to a friend and her bf does a similar thing and now I’ve been surveying women and yes men are useless at throwing away stuff like WTF frankly speaking like I’m a messy person but I know how bins work???) than they are about Daily Mail articles. Just realistically.

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

Teagan rubbed at the injury in her hairline and wondered if this was the kind of thing the rest of her family dealt with on a daily basis: blood, pain, cleaning up wounds. The realisation that her family was more than just the owners of a bookshop had been something of a surprise for her, something that shifted her entire world view so she no longer knew what was what. But Piotr was still there, still a stalwart friend.

But would he be if he knew the truth?

‘You can talk to me. About absolutely anything,’ he told her, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear. He’d managed to find some antiseptic, a cotton swab, and even though he was more squeamish than he cared to admit, he was putting on a brave face to help her.

‘I know that, P. But… this changes things,’ she admitted in a small voice, bracing herself for the pain she knew would come. Falling off her bike was one of the clumsiest things she’d done. It was her own fault, really. She shouldn’t have been thinking about the way Julian’s eyes had seemed so empty as he levelled the gun on the man. She shouldn’t have allowed her thoughts to stray back to the moment Uncle Tom had ushered her away, complaining at Julian for being reckless.

That evening, her parents had finally had to tell her the truth. Had allowed her to look behind the curtain and she wasn’t sure she liked what she was seeing.

‘Are you a secret millionaire?’ Piotr asked, ever so gently dabbing at the graze.

‘No,’ she scoffed.

‘An alien?’

‘Of course not,’ she assured him indignantly.

Piotr put the cotton ball in the bin, and stood back in front of her with a tube of antiseptic cream. His eyes skimmed across her face, roving over her expression as if he might be able to read her mind if he looked hard enough.

‘Does it change who you are, Tea?’

‘Yes,’ she said vehemently. Fear clawed up the back of her throat. She felt so certain that it changed everything she thought was intrinsically right with the world that she didn’t know what to expect of anything anymore. 

Piotr merely raised an eyebrow at her as he squeezed cream onto his fingertips.

‘I… No?’ she said. The truth of the matter was, just because her family did something reprehensible, she wouldn’t. She would never join that business because it simply wasn’t the type of thing she could do. She wasn’t capable of threatening anyone, let alone killing them.

‘Exactly,’ Piotr told her softly. ‘You’re still you, Teagan Harcroft. You’re still my best friend and nothing’s going to change that. OK?’

‘OK,’ she said as he gently massaged the cream against her injury. But part of her knew that the truth would shift something between them. How on earth could it not?

[agentelevatormusic]

“You appear to be doing well on your own,” Vera agreed, again, noticing Atalanta’s sudden stiffness. “It’s only an offer.” One that verged on negligence if she didn’t make it at all, despite the visible progress. “I’m not going to force you into any course of treatment unless you pose a clear and present danger to yourself or others. Even that’s all a bit relative given our line of work,” she added soberly. 

“I won’t touch your neck.” She took mental note that the patient had a sensitivity about her neck, but really the sight of those bruises alone would have kept Vera far away on their own. Instead, she took hold of that arm and focused her attention on examining it. Powerful muscles. Excellent. The shoulder rotated smoothly, including the area Vera was most concerned about. “Yes. You’re doing well. Keep doing what you’re doing, while being gentle on yourself with the things that aren’t coming back as fast. I think you’re close to a full recovery.” 

“Omega-1.” With a low-whistle, she pulled off her gloves inside out, tossed them in the bin, and scrubbed down again. “Maybe he will be the one, then.” Vera paused to write out a prescription for Naproxen. Tom’s death left her empty. Guin had abandoned her again. Now, with only Ella, frail and fading, Vera’s thoughts often crossed over into a grim reality where she was living only for the Foundation. At this point, she was so accustomed to thoughts of a dark nature that as long as it was from her own mouth, from her own mind, she gave them little purchase. 

“I’m not worried,” Vera clarified. It was true. 

She turned back to Atalanta and handed her the prescription. True, she wasn’t currently worried about her own fate. But Vera was worried about Atalanta. The way she clenched her fists, just like Ella. Just like Ella still did when she was beyond stressed and her face was blotchy and her eyes were misty.

“Well, if you feel like grabbing a coffee or going for a run sometime, I’m sure we can talk enough to get both of us under some even more sinister radar.” Vera shook her head, laughing breathily and wondering why she was afraid of being rejected here. She should be delighted to be rejected by Atalanta. A year of not speaking unless absolutely necessary would do that to a person. “Or not. Promise, I won’t be offended. Hard to imagine you’d want to spend time with me.” She let a rather telling moment hang in the air. “I am your doctor, after all.”

“Got it. Doxy or whatever.”

Immediately, Nadia went stiff at the request. "Don't need extra physical therapy." She still did the exercises originally given to her, and found her own routines when those weren't working. And avoiding the chest flies would only ensure that she never got back up to them. "You can...do whatever." Swallowing, her throat clicks with the effort. "Just. Don't touch my neck." That's where that high whine of alarm had started from Dr Nair's question. The thought of a near-stranger's hands at her collar.

"He was Omega-1." As if no further explanation was needed. The Law's Left-Hand. What a fucking joke. Nadia balked at the doctor's humor, uncertain.

Surprised they didn't take me out. She had just said that, to Guin the other night. And she had meant it. After the hell she raised in the aftermath of Mark's death, after all her fuck-ups that got her demoted and kicked from Delta-5. And then after what happened in the woods that night, what they all knew really happened, no matter how Guin lied for her... Nadia had expected it to come. Hoped for it, after she realized she wouldn't be able to do it herself. "Don't worry. Haven't killed me yet and I talk more than enough shit." Her eyes flickered down to her own hands. She hadn't realized but she clenched her fist so tightly her nails bit into her palm. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a set of perfect half-moon indentations when she stretched the fingers out.

Breezing past the birth control, Nadia gave a wave of her hand. "I don't think so. Haven't taken it since I was a teenager. If I get an infection just give me one of the other ones. Doxy or whatever."

[aemonds-wifey]

Summary : You go to the cinema with Tom , afterwards you get another surprise by meeting the Bennett Family

“ I know how well you love complete power, Fouquet, but you will never know complete power until you are obeyed in a place like this”

As the film played on you You crunched on a piece of popcorn as you were engrossed in the story. The cinema was incredibly cozy and small. Your elbow rested on the arm chair , Tom held the small paper popcorn square, occasionally leaning it in your direction offering you some. Sometimes he would offer you some and retract it , laughing shortly as you missed the box trying to grab popcorn.

Out of the corner of your eye you occasionally caught Tom glancing at you, and he probably noticed you looking at him, giving him a smile every time he offered some popcorn.

Tom picked the film the Man in the Iron Mask , you were intrigued by his choice, you expected something else but you liked the film all the same. It was not a crowded cinema, maybe a dozen people in.

Being sat that close to him for just under 2 hours was sweetly reassuring, he enjoyed the film like you did. He made sure that he got the tickets, when you arrived at the theatre he was standing again the wall and when he saw you approach he smiled. You wore your dark green dress, with sleeves that barley touched your elbows and the skirt just to say covered your knees. In the cinema you had the black cardigan over your during the film but being in such close proximity to Tom made you feel even more warm blooded As the film finished Tom stood up and offered to hold your cardigan open as you put it back on . He held his blue jacket over his shoulder and you both walked side by side as you left the theatre.

“Well then what did you think of that?” You asked as you left the main entrance.

He shrugged “Yeah it was alright like.” He scrunched up the empty paper popcorn and dropped it in the bin.

“Next time you pick eh?” He said

“Next time?” You raised an eyebrow smiling at him

He smirked back “Could be fun .”

You nodded “Okay…Next time I’ll pick.”

He smiled at the prospect of another cinema experience, his smile made your knees weak…how could one man have such charm?

The film finished by midday and you walked in the direction of the familiar streets you had grown to known in the past month.

Tom lit up a cigarette as you both walked down the streets , you watched him again and this time he caught you by surprise, he took it out of his mouth and offered it to you “Wanna try?”

You couldn’t respond fast enough as you stuttered “I’ve never tried one…”

He wordlessly put it closer to you and without hesitation you took it , putting it on your mouth and slowly taking a drag. You coughed slightly as you poorly attempted to blow smoke, Tom laughed and stopped you as you walked.

He took the cigeratte from your hand and held it in between his two fingers and slowly , agonizingly slowly he flew it to your lips where you opened them slightly. As he placed the cigarette in your mouth your lips closed, grazing his skin slightly as he held onto it “take a drag…slowly.” He said

It was almost like a command and you obeyed without taking your eyes off his. As you inhaled slowly you felt the hotness of the cigarette fill your lungs and then Tom whispered “Blow.”

You did just that, and a large fluffy puff of smoke escaped your mouth as Tom took away the cigarette and rested it between his lips. Effortlessly

Smoking and smiling at you “see that Wasn’t too bad was it love?”

He asked

You nodded “Rather enjoyable.” As you walked on your fingers briefly Ghosted your lips, you heart was spinning and fluttering. Tom finished his cigarette in what seemed like seconds before he graciously flicked it onto the street , smirking looking at you “Ee what would posh boy say?”

“That your a bad influence Tom.” You grinned a little

Tom laughed “Ah our little secret eh?”

You nodded “Sure..” you both turned the corner

“So what else can we you to try…” Tom mused

You almost chocked on your laugh “God Tom you make me sound like a relic.”

“Speaking of relics” he nodded in the direction of a man in a flat cap getting off his bike “wanna meet me old man?”

You smiled “of course…”

As you both approached him you almost froze in your tracks , it was the man who gave you the pamphlet outside the library .

He recognized you too as you got closer

“Alright dad .”

His dad nodded “Tom…and the Oxford girl.”

Tom frowned “eh?”

You smiled as you shook his hand “your dad and I have met…he gave me one of those pamphlets …you know the night I met you.” You said

Tom laughed “Of course he did…the one that dickhead went after you for?”

“Tom!” The man said “wait what happened with the pamphlet ?”

“Oh I was reading it…and a bloody good read it was. Some drunk tried to ..harass me and your son…” you looked at Tom and patted his chest delicately “was good enough to rescue me.”

The man removed his cap and had a glimmer of pride stretch on his face . He offered his hand “Douglas Bennett.”

You shook it “Y/N. Nice to meet you properly.”

“Wait…you don’t have an uncle Norman…Norman Turner…. do you love?”

You nodded “He is the relative I am staying with.”

“He’s my mate, we go for pints sometimes! He mentioned his niece from down south was staying with him….Small world!” Douglas said laughing.

You were astonished at the coincidence , Tom was too. But that just made Douglas even more interested in getting to know who you were.

You were invited in for tea with Tom and his dad, you met Lois that afternoon too as she came in and insisted you stay for dinner. Lois took to you almost immediately. Welcoming you with a warm hug, like an old friend reunited.

The way they were together took you back, teasing each other but in a loving close way, something you never experienced with your parents - always so serious and so quiet. Yet at the Bennett house it was never silent, they always talked …it was refreshing . Lois and you talked about hair styles and dresses, as she complimented your colours, you in turn remarked how you adored her shoes. You told them of your home and where you worked , how it was just you and your parents. when you told her how Tom had rescued you from the drunken imbecile she smiled warmly At her brother , and in the first time for what seemed like an age, she saw Tom settled and happy.

🍂

“She seems really nice Tom…” Lois said as she sat on her bed removing her slippers and getting under the cover.

Tom was laid on his chest facing the bottom

, still in his clothes and finishing another cigarette.

Looking lost in thought “hmm?”

Lois chuckled “wey Tom I think you really do like her.”

Tom blushed a fraction but looked away “Nah I mean…she’s nice but…she don’t live her Lois..:and she’s got some bloke waiting for her at home.”

Lois frowned “didn’t you say he hasn’t written to her? And they haven’t spent a lot of time together?”

Tom shrugged As he took another drag from the cigarette, he couldn’t quite say how he felt about Y/N. But he knew he had never felt it before.

“She goes back in a couple of weeks ..I ain’t able to just swan off down to Oxford for someone who…”

“Who what Tom?” Lois asked

He blew the smoke from his thin lips and sighed “Someone like her..:doesn’t go for someone like me. A thug.”

Lois smiled “Oh Tom you have no idea have you?!” She almost giggled, Tom frowned as he looked at her , outright confused .

“I saw the way you were looking at her Tom…”

He rolled his eyes “Why is it how Henry looks at you? Another posh lad punching above his weight”

“Harry.” Lois corrected him

He tutted “Harry …sorry.”

Lois blushed a little “Come on Tom stop putting yourself down …”

He shrugged again and focused on taking a long drag , blowing a cloud of smoke before tapping it against his makeshift ash tray.

Lois leaned forward and cleared her throat.

“Tom if she was as serious about this posh lad you mentioned…she wouldn’t have agreed to keep seeing you…fight for her. Give her reason to stay.”

Tom frowned “thought you’d want her to stay with that posh twit…true love an all that.”

She smiled “I want my brother to be happy.”

Tom chuckled “Very funny Lois.”

“Tom?” Lois said seriously

He looked at her as he blew smoke from his lips

“She likes you …I can tell.”

💫

A few streets away, you lay flat on your bed, wide awake looking at the stars out of your window. Your uncle was asleep when you got home , so you couldn’t tell him about meeting Douglas- but you would first thing in the morning.

The sky was so clear to see a blanket of stars which sparkled so bright in the darkness of the midnight sky.

How you felt at ease with Douglas and Lois, normally you fret over meeting new people , but they welcomed you like they had been familiar with you for years. A truly wholesome day, one that you would gladly repeat again.

You were almost annoyed that for the whole day you had not once thought of a George …even though he came up in conversation once. You found yourself wanting a cigarette, the smell lingered within the fabric of your dress and in an instant you knew it was not the cigarette you were craving…it was Tom.

Chapter 5

TAGS

@schniiipsel @moonchildrenandflowercrowns @mischiefmanaged71 @dothrckis @virginslut08 @nolongereviliwantlove @motley-baby @bcon24 @lauraneedstochill

[im-in-love-with-pizza-bites]

To Raise Children: Chapter 26

Chris Evans X Daughter!Reader, Grandpa!Chris Evans X Flynn and Felix Evans (OCs) Tom Holland X Single-Mom!Reader (Slow Burn)

Series Masterlist

OC List

Series Summary: It's been 4 years, your sons are starting kindergarten, you're starting junior year of college, a lot has changed.

Chapter Summary: Time to travel to New York!

Series Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20, Tom is 29), absent father, mentions teen pregnancy, mentions abortion, if you see anymore please let me know politely.

Chapter Warnings:

Sequel to "It Takes A village"

You fold up one last out fit and put it in your suitcase. You zip the bag before setting it on the floor. You leave your room and head to the twins room. You had told them to pick out their clothes for the trip.

"You ready boys?" You walk into the room they had two messy piles on Felix's bed. "Which is which?" You ask smiling at the boys who were now sitting on the floor playing a board game.

"That ones mine!" Flynn stands up and points to one of piles. "I'm bringing my bucky shirt."

"I got my favorite spidey shirt cause he's better!"

"Nuh-uh! White wolf is better!" Flynn glares at his twins.

"No! He can't do anything cool! Spidey can climb walls and shoot webs. Bucky just uses guns! Like a loser." Felix says crossing his arms.

"Bucky was friends with cap. He survived falling off a train! And he has a awesome metal arm!"

"Well Spidey survived a building fall building falling in him! Plus his costume is cooler!"

"Boys." You break up the fight. "Where are your suitcases?" They both shrug sitting back down to play their game. You sigh and open their closet. You groan seeing how messy it is. You may or may not have shoved everything in there last time you cleaned the room. You begin emptying it and putting the items where they actually go before you finally find the suitcases. Flynn has one with an astronaut on it and Felix has planes on his. They've had these for a couple years so they're not exactly things they like now. Since Felix would probably pick something animal or Spiderman related and Flynn would pick something dino, car, or animal related now.

You begin neatly folding the clothes from Flynn's pile and putting them in his suitcase. You do the same with Felix's stuff.

"Okay boys we leave tomorrow morning and Uncle Seb is gonna pick us up! Why won't you two pack your old bookbags with anything you?"

"Toys?"

"Yep! The whole bag is anything to entertain you two on the train okay?"

"Anything?" Felix smirks.

"If you bring your web-shooters you can only use them at uncle Seb's place." You tell them as they both run to their toy bin.

"But we can bring them?" Flynn asks.

"Yeah."

"Awesome!"

———

You have never take the boys on a trip alone. On all your trips Chris was with you. Since you've really only taken a few trips out of Massachusetts. The boys weren't terrible on the train. They played in peace only arguing a couple times. You stepped in but finally you made it. Sebastian was waiting with a grin.

"Hey uncle Seb." You hugg him.

"Hey kids!" He says hugging you and the twin.

"Thanks for letting us stay with you... Hotels are crazy expensive here." You say.

"Of course I couldn't just let my favorite niece and nephews live on the streets!"

"We're your only niece and nephews." You laugh.

"Fine you're my favorite evans."

"Cool! Uncle Seb we brought our web shooters! Tom got them for us. Mommy is dating tom." Felix says as you all begin walking out of the train station.

"You're dating my archnemesis!?" Sebastian gasps dramatically. He knew, you told him a month ago.

"Why do you hate tom?" Flynn asks him.

"I don't actually hate him neither does Anthony we just tease him."

"Oh... Did you know we have a sister? Her name is Amelia!"

"I did know that!"

"We get to meet her this summer!" Flynn says, "we also get to meet our gran... She's our dads's grandma but we don't get to meet him."

"Yeah but Gran is nice! She made us blankies do Christmas!"

"Cool!"

Taglist: @fic-for-readers @denisemarieangelina @thevelvetseries @kaitieskidmore1 @ellerosie2332 @tahniemarie @runawayolives @marajillana @buckybarnez @positivelyholland @firehoseevan @coldmuffinpartycloud @beautifulrose0809 @believinghurts @laura-naruto-fan1998 @shadow-dixon @claaaaaaire-blog @mrs-brekker15 @h-j-s-03 @moniffazictress11 @buxkybarnez @ducks118 @kalopsia-flaneur @silverrmist @some-lovely-day @peterparkerbae @Olivia197810 @gengen64 @Bellagaseta20 @hollzo-03 @bubb1eana1ee @cmalas @jamie0515 @mpamphsss @bucketbarnes12 @lyraficrecs @hunni-bunny @lyrarodriguez @snigdha-14 @cedricdiggorysimpp @Multifandom_Boss_Bitch @sea040561 @queensgirl718

Their suit cases:

[sbi-au-ideas]

Tommy’s power is simple. He heals quickly, and he doesn’t scar.

Yes, he was a test tube baby, but he was still a human so he got a power. It was just a coincidence that his power developed like it did. That their scalpels wouldn’t leave a mark, that they could sew him together and he would heal within the week.

Tommy escaped from there years ago, and he doesn’t have a single scar from it. Sure, it makes blending into the crowd easier, but it’s just a constant reminder that no one will know what he’s been through. No one will ask. There are no clues to lead them back to the source of his pain. No trail of bread crumbs.

He doesn’t know if he wants the scars. They would be a painful reminder, and he would get so many stares, so much pity… but is that better than the lack of proof? That it happened, he isn’t crazy, he knows what happened, remembers it like it was yesterday- and yet no one will ever think twice about him. The idea that he’s been through something like that will never cross their mind. He hates it.

He’s survived, he’s tried to heal, and it’s been the hardest thing he could ever go through, and he has nothing to show for it. Nothing.

He’s imagined approaching someone he knows about it, like Wilbur. Tommy’s told Wilbur about his power and it shouldn’t be unreasonable for Wilbur to believe him, but… what if he doesn’t? What if he looks at Tommy, the kid who always has a smile on his face and mischief under his eyes, and calls him a liar? Laughs in his face?

So Tommy keeps it to himself. He has to cope somehow, so he writes in journals. He’s filled up dozens of them with his thoughts and memories, and drawings of what his scars would look like if he had them. He hides them all in a bin under his bed. Bins under beds always hold old toys, trash, or laundry after all. No one looks for the bins under beds.

Until he asks Wilbur, Techno, and Phil to help him move out of his apartment.

Tommy enters his apartment, sweating slightly from carrying his dual set of chairs down the staircase. They’re deceptively heavy, and he almost regrets not asking Techno for a hand.

The small apartment is empty, to his surprise, save for some hushed muttering coming from his room. Phil had said something about taking apart his bed.

He swings open the door with a flourish. “Ayup kings! Are you having some trouble-” Wilbur slams a journal shut. His journal. The pile of them are laying sprayed across the floor, with Phil and Techno sitting stock still, each with a book of their own. Dread crawls up Tommy’s throat.

“Toms!” Wilbur smiles guiltily. “I know this looks bad, but we were insatiably curious. You’ve never told us you were a writer! You’re writing is phenomenal by the way- We should’ve asked, I know-” Wil keeps rambling about apologies, but he isn’t listening.

They- they think he wrote those as fiction. That they’re just stories, little excerpts from a fake perspective, from a fake reality.

Tommy can’t breathe.

Phil gently closes his journal. “We never should’ve touched them Wilbur. I’m so sorry Tommy, I know writing is a very personal thing-”

“Tommy?” Techno cuts Phil off, holding up a hand. “Are you okay?”

He can’t breathe- they read- they read his memories, his thoughts and- his journals- his only way of coping with- no, no no no no no

“Tommy I need you to breathe with me, can you do that?” Techno is in front of him, Wilbur is holding his hand, Phil is- putting his journals away- they read so much-

“My journals-” he chokes.

“I know, I’m so sorry, you can read all my lyrics that I’ve ever written Tommy, you can even see my first ones, and all of Technos baby pictures- I- we didn’t know I swear-”

“You read- you saw the scars, I-” Techno visibly pauses.

“Please breathe with me, I swear we didn’t mean any harm,” Wilbur stutters, hands hovering over his shoulders, as if Wil could touch him and he’d break.

Tommy chokes on a sob, eyes blurring as tears run tracks down his cheeks. He doesn’t see Technos eyes light up in realization, and fade into dread. Wilbur herds Tommy over to the bed to sit him down, the bed they haven’t even begun to dismantle because they were reading his journals-

“Please please breathe- Tommy breathe with me- Please,” Techno cuts Wilbur off, holding his hand out in a ‘wait’ motion.

“Tommy… those… weren’t stories, were they?” They know, “I mean, you don’t scar, and neither did the person in the journals. Which, would make sense if you… were, them. You don’t- you wouldn’t have the scars to prove it.” He wishes he does. “I might be completely wrong of course- maybe I’m connecting the wrong dots or something, but… I don’t know.”

Wilbur looks horrified, and suddenly the idea of them simply not believing him is much more preferable to disgust.

“Tommy, none of us are going to judge you for your past.” Techno says. Phil is rubbing circles on his back. Tommy can see the dots begin to connect in Wilburs eyes “We just want some confirmation. We sincerely apologize for reading your journals behind your back, but now we have, and we can’t take that back.”

They want to know. They’re asking, and they’ll believe him whether he tells the truth or not. He could lie, brush it off and ignore it, continue living as if it never happened at all… but does he want that?

“Toms,” Wilbur, “we would never hate you for what you’ve been through. Pinky promise.” Wilbur extends his pinky, and Techno and Phil quickly join him.

Tommy curls his own around all of them, individually. Taking a deep breath, he thinks hard on his answer. He has a feeling they already know the truth anyway.

He nods his head. Fuck, he’s gonna have to postpone packing up the rest of his apartment. This is gonna take a few very emotionally exhausting hours to explain.

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

the way I love you // tom holland x reader

a/n: hello my lovelies! it’s been a little while since I posted something, this piece has fully been kicking my butt but she’s finally here and I hope you like her even if she is a little rough around the edges. as always, love to know what you think. also, I will do an official post regarding rules but from here until I close them my * REQUESTS ARE OPEN * my 10th piece of writing (WHAT) is a requested piece that I'm so excited to share with you guys and the lovely human who requested it, so stay tuned for that but in the meantime, sending all the love, and I hope you're all staying safe out there, please enjoy! x 

word count: 2.1K warning: swearing, lil bit of angst if you squint summary: your best friend tom is helping you move in, but you have a secret and it’s been making things difficult. it’s time to fess up. 

The rain thumped against the windows, droplets eagerly chasing each other to the bottom. The wind whistled, branches reaching out as the trees shook. Soft wispy curtains were pulled tight to keep the cold, stormy weather locked outside. Yet the sounds of cars speeding through the flooded roads could still be heard from the storeys above. The room was almost bare, the orange glow of the streetlights casting warm shadows upon the wooden floorboards. A couple of unopened cardboard boxes were stacked up against one wall. One section of the room was lowly lit with battery-operated soft, twinkling fairy lights and flickering candles. The floor was decorated with a few cosy blankets and pillows. Half eaten cartons of sushi sat abandoned alongside a takeaway pizza box full of cheesy crusts. A laptop balanced precariously on one of the boxes, movie already playing. “Happy move-in day,” a voice whispers, just grazing past your ear. You lay on your front on the floor, wrapped up in an exceptionally fluffy blanket. Your best friend is sat semi cross-legged with his knees up, arms hooked around them, the pair of you only a breath apart. You turn your head lazily in his direction, unable to hide the grin from your face as he cocks his head, mimicking you with his own cheesy smile - noses almost touching. “Thanks for helping me out. Have I ever told you that you’re my favourite?” “Oh, not nearly enough.” He nudges your side, wiggling his eyebrows dramatically. You laugh, causing his face to soften at your expression before you focus your attention back to the small screen. Tom frowns slightly as you turn away, keeping his eyes on you as he drinks you in slowly. Your hair was almost completely dry from the rainstorm, and had begun curling at the ends and around your hairline, one piece had fallen across your face which he ached to tuck back into place behind your ear. You had a light flush across your cheeks, eyes shining bright as your face slackened, concentrating on the film. He let out a soft sigh before swallowing, dragging his eyes away from you and back to the movie. **** It hadn’t taken long for you and tom to gravitate closer to each other, a chill making its way through the apartment as you were yet to install a new heating system. You were tucked into his side, head resting gently against his shoulder, breaths synchronising. You shifted slightly, yet Tom kept a protective arm around you. A black screen took over the laptop as the credits started rolling. Tom let out a yawn, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he slowly sat up, bringing you with him. “I better go, it’s late and I have a bunch of meetings tomorrow. Plus you still have unpacking to do…” he teases, collecting some of the empty cartons. You nod, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and gathering it around your waist as you hit pause on the laptop. Stretching your body out, you could already feel the twinges in your back from sitting on the hard floor. The sky had darkened considerably, storm worsening behind the curtains, rain lashing down hard. You glance across at tom, watching as he steps foot into the kitchen, tiding up the rubbish into a neat pile. You bite your lip slightly as you give him a once over. His hair was unruly, eager for a styling from Rachel as it attempted to curl against his forehead, and you could see where he’d been running his hands through it all day. You loved how relaxed he looked in your presence, allowing himself to be slightly unkempt and messy. You watched his mouth and eyebrows twitch animatedly as he cleaned up the kitchen, the sleeves of his oversized hoodie rolled up his forearms. Suddenly he looked up, eyes directly locking with yours and your felt your face flush. “Stop staring at me you div,” he teased, as his face breaking out into a grin, eyes creasing at the sides, still locked with yours. “Calm down movie star, you ain’t all that,” you laugh nervously, internally berating yourself for getting caught in a trance as you pick up the rest of the rubbish and join Tom in the kitchen, blanket slouched around your shoulders and trailing behind you. Truth was, something had changed during the last film Tom had been away filming for. Tiny butterflies would dance in your stomach whenever your phone pinged with a new message or silly photo he’d sent you. You brushed it off at first, thinking you were just missing his company. But by the time he got back, you felt nervous and giddy around him and everything was weird. It wasn’t until one day you found yourself waking up with a start as he began to infiltrate your dreams when you realised you were feeling very differently for your best friend than you’d ever felt before. “This place is nice, but I still don’t know why you turned us boys down though? Harrison said he asked before I came back and you said no?” he wondered aloud, miming an arrow through his heart as the pair of you make your way downstairs. You laugh at his antics but wrap the blanket that little bit tighter around yourself, finding the floor of your building suddenly extremely interesting. “Don’t tell me you’re sick of us lot already? We’ve been together too long for you to ditch us all now.” He gives you a little nudge in the arm with his elbow. You took a deep breath, shaking your hair out of your face. “I’ll still be round all the time. I literally live on the other side of the park,” you laugh as he pouts, “Tom, it’s not even 20 minutes away.” “Still doesn’t explain why you won’t move in with us?” You sigh, your frustration building. “Just leave it,” you snap, adding a quieter “please” after a beat. There’s a stifling silence as you both walk down the concrete staircase, you twist the mechanical lock on the front door and wait for the buzz as it clicks and opens up to the world outside.

Tom whistles at the torrential storm as he steps outside, trees were bending over, leaves billowing in the wind. The steps up to the building were gathering puddles of water and you could already see the road ahead was beginning to flood.

“Oh my god.”

The pair of you quickly throw the trash into the bin that was sitting at the bottom of some basement level steps.

“Listen, but I only ask because...it’s just, you’ve been a bit off since I came back from Atlanta. if it wasn’t for Harrison telling me he couldn’t make it today, you wouldn’t have even asked me to help you move in? What’s up with that?” he asks, standing behind you, shielding you from as much of the rain as he could.

“I just thought you’d be busy, y’know. What with being away for so long.”

“And? It’s not like that’s ever stopped you before. Seriously though, did I do something wrong? Did the boys? Because you can tell me.”

“Tom it’s nothing. Seriously, quit it.” Avoiding his stare, you shake your head and turn on your heel in an attempt to push the door back open but it stays firmly shut. You twist the handle multiple times as it jangles in response, remaining firmly locked. You freeze in immediate panic, feeling your pockets for your keys which were still sitting on your kitchen counter.

“Oh my god, no. No fucking way.”

“What? What is it?” He reaches a hand over your shoulder and gives the door a shove, “Is it stuck?”

“No tom, it’s locked! The wind must’ve closed it! I’ve left my apartment open and the keys are on the kitch – fuck! I’m such an idiot.”

“Hey it’s fine. Calm down. Hey, maybe if you lived with us we wouldn’t be having this problem…” he joked, pulling off his hoodie as thunder rumbled in the distance, the rain bouncing down onto the two of you.

“Now is really not the time Tom!” You exclaim, feeling your heart-rate spike, anxious about being locked out on your very first day living alone.

“Would you calm down, we’ll sort it. Your doors just unlocked, it’s not like you left it wide open.” 

“If you hadn’t been asking so many stupid questions, I wouldn’t have forgotten my keys in the first place!”

“Really?! You’re blaming me for caring about you? Alright listen, I just wanted to know what’s going on with you. I know you, and I know when something’s wrong! Why won't you just tell me?!”

“Oh my god, fine! You want to know so badly? It’s you, okay!” You shout, whirling around now standing chest to chest, you could feel your eyes burning with the tears you were fighting back, “You’re the reason I can’t move in with you guys! Because I hoped that this feeling would go away. If I avoided you it would go away and things would be normal and nothing would change. But that’s not the case!” You gulped in a breath, refusing to look into the deep brown eyes that were staring at you, so wide and confused, “That’s not the case, because every time I’m with you I feel like my heart is going to beat straight out of my chest. I get these stupid knots in my stomach whenever you so much as send me a fucking text. Sitting together in there side by side, alone together, casually watching a film and all I can think about is god, I wish he’d just kiss me! I don’t want to fall in love with you because this,” you gesture between the two of you, “what we are, it’ll all be gone and I’ll have ruined everything. And I can’t Tom. I can’t deal with that. So, there you go. I’m in love with you, and I hate myself for it. So, what? Are you happy now?! Does that clear everything up for you!”

Tom froze.

Your chest heaves, the tears that you let fall mixing in with the rain, leaving you sniffling. You push your soaking wet hair out of your face, roughly wiping your cheeks as you turn and hit the buzzer for the apartment block, banging your fist on the main door. 

“C’mon!”

Tom stood silently, still frozen outside your apartment entrance, the rain so heavy it was bouncing off of his clothes. His curls were flattened, droplets dripping from his hair, his nose, his eyelashes. his t-shirt was already drenched by the rain, fabric clinging to his frame. He blinks, once, twice then once more, his jaw unclenching.

He reaches forwards, fingertips lightly caressing your hand, his featherlight touch pulsating through your entire body.

You tear your hand away from him, a gasp letting loose, “Don’t.”

He perseveres, pulling you round, more forcefully this time until you are nose to nose again.

Your body shivers in the cold, wet air as you stare at the ground. Tom’s firm grip around your wrists.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice soft and gentle.

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head as you exhale breathily.

He lets go of you, your hands curled into small fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms.

One hand lifts your chin to his level, his thumb softly collecting the mixture of tears and rain from beneath your eyes and brushing them away.

“I wish you’d just told me. It would’ve saved you all this hurt.”

His left hand comes up and tucks the soaking wet pieces of hair that has been whipping around your face in the wind gently behind your ear. Stroking the stray strands. 

Your teary, glistening eyes connect with his. They were alive with such care and concern. Before you knew it, that feeling was back in the pit of your stomach, pulling and twisting in knots as you stared into the eyes of the boy you loved. 

You blinked, eyelashes fluttering when all of a sudden, the hand that had brushed your tears away cradles the side of your head, bringing your faces together, the other hand lightly fluttering to your waist, pulling you in closer. 

The rain continued to fall, the two of you completely oblivious as your lips brush, foreheads pressed together. It’s soft and slow, almost uncertain at first before immediately intensifying, the two of you pushing your bodies against each other. You take a breath as he strokes your cheek and your lips with his thumb, pulling you back in for another gentle kiss with a hand to the back of your head, tangling in your soaking hair as he presses your faces closer together. 

The pair of you pull away, both your chests heaving as you exhale. 

“Why did you do that?” you ask, voice raspy. 

“Because. that’s the way I love you. Not just as a friend. And for years, I sat on it, too scared to ruin what we have.”  You shake your head, as a couple of bubbles of laughter spill from your lips. Tom’s face brightens up quickly, those little creases that you loved so much appearing at the outward corners of his eyes as he whispered, “C’mere. I got you.” 

He pulled you in, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist, his body cold under your hands. You could hear and feel his heartbeat, still in perfect time with your own. He tucked his chin so it was resting atop your head. His arm hadn’t moved, still cradling the back of your head, pressing you ever so carefully into his chest, the two of you just resting in each others embrace as the rain eased up slightly around you.

There was a beat, as you both relaxed into each other. 

“So, I'm glad we solved one problem, but you do know we’re still locked out, right?” Tom says as the pair of you burst out laughing. 

[parkers-gal]

can u do one where is ag!reader’s birthday party and there’s a lot of celebrities there (like rihanna, beyonce, kylie, doja, megan...) and she introduce tom and the boys too to them? i love your writing 🥺💙

aww🥺

this sucks but i tried lol

wc: 1.8k

—

“C’mon, babes!” You pull him into your side. “It’ll be so much fun! And besides, you’re a social butterfly. You’ll fit right in,” you smile with some extra pep, and Tom laughs in response, finally nodding in agreement.

“Alright. But don’t touch your present until it’s time.” “I won’t!” You squeal. “That was one time!”

“One time too many!”

“Fine, fine,” you stand up. “C’mon, take a shower with me.”

Tom raises a brow, “Oh?”

“It’s my birthday,” you smirk, “I can have whatever I want.”

“That indeed, darling,” he’s pulled up by your arms, and the two of you go off to get ready for the party in just a few hours.

Finally, forty minutes later, you’ve dressed and prepared to drive down to the country club you’ve rented out for the party. You don’t normally make such a big deal about your birthday, but because of the success of your recent album, you know everyone would want to rejoice after all the time in quarantine.

Applying your last bit of lip liner, Tom comes strolling in while adjusting his Rolex watch. He reaches for the comb sitting in the top drawer, and you admire how sensual he looks getting ready.

“See something you like, love?”

“Ah ah ah,” You stop him. “I get free access to gawk over your hands. Today is shame-free, baby,” You do the rock ‘n’ roll sign for dramatics, and Tom teasingly rolls his eyes.

“Okay, go sit in the car, love. I need to get your present into the trunk while you aren’t eyeing my hands.”

“Yeah yeah,” You wave him off, and as you leave the bathroom, Tom playfully slaps your ass, sparking a giggle from you.

Afterward, when you finally do arrive, your mom and close friends/choreographers have already made sure the setup was complete. The first few guests to arrive are your closest confidants: Victoria Monet, Tommy Brown, Scootie and Mikey, Tayla Parx, and Courtney Chipolone.

“You look good, girl!” Victoria greets you with a soft hug, her highlight accentuating the beautiful shades of her skin.

“You too!” you reciprocate her excitement.

“And happy birthday,” she holds you at arm’s length before turning to Tom. “Treating the birthday girl well?”

“Of course, of course,” he clasps his hands together and smiles so wide that his eye crinkles show. You smile at that, hand going to the small of his back to pull him closer.

More people arrive, and soon enough the hall is packed and you’ve lost Tom in a crowd of familiar faces. You see him sitting at the bar, engaging in conversation with his brother Sam and Scott, your choreographer. Deciding to make your way over to him, you’re halfway through the bunch of the crowd when Abel stops you to catch up.

“Oh-! Can I be right back?”

He nods with a smile, sipping his cocktail and letting you run off again. Quickly, you make your way to the barstool that seats Tom.

“Hey love,” he greets.

“Hi, baby,” You curl into his side, waving gently to the boys sitting beside him. “C’mon, I want you to meet some people.”

“Welp,” Tom stands, “That’s my cue.” The three of them share a laugh and then he’s linking his hand with yours and letting you take the lead.

“You know The Weeknd, right?”

“What?” Tom stops, and because his hand is linked with yours it stops you too. “No, love, that’s- I’m- you can’t introduce me to him!”

“Why not?” You giggle. “He’s just a person.”

“Yeah, and extremely talented and successful person who my brother happens to obsess over.” You roll your eyes teasingly while beginning to pull him along again. “You’ll be fine, you big baby. Besides, he’s always wanted to meet you.”

“Alright,” he mumbles, still nervous but trusting you. Before long, he’s standing in front of the “After Hours,” singer, shaking his hand and engrossing himself in easy conversation. It flows so well that Tom almost doesn’t remember being nervous to meet him.

“I’m gonna get a refill,” He excuses himself. “It was great to catch up, Y/N/N. And nice meeting you, Tom,” he pats Tom’s shoulder as the two of you wave him goodbye.

Tom lets out a heavy breath, one of relief and pure excitement from having just met another big-time celebrity.

“Look at you, big guy,” you tease, tapping his shoulders in a taunting manner. Tom rolls his eyes and chuckles, catching your hands with his and pulling you to his chest for an almost kiss.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

“Make me.”

And he does — with his lips. When the two of you separate, you spot a group of girls in the corner and you immediately light up. Tom doesn’t have time to process what’s happening before you’re tugging him along to another side of the room.

“C’mon! There‘re more people I want you to meet!”

“Love! I’m not prepared!” he whisper-shouts. You ignore his pleas and enlargen the circle of familiar friends.

“Girlies!” they squeal as you greet them. “It’s good to see you all! There’s someone I wanna introduce you all to…” You pull Tom along, who’s a blushing, bashful mess of British and messy curls. “Tom, this is Doja, Megan, and Nicki.” You gesture to each one as you say their names. “Guys, this is Tom, my boyfriend.”

“The one you always talk about in the studio?”

“Oh, that one! In all your pictures! He’s the one on your lock screen, right?”

Nicki chuckles from behind her champagne glass, observing the encounter unravel.

“Is that so, darling?” Tom eyes you, and you groan dramatically. “Didn’t know you were so head over heels for me.”

“Oh… hush,” you sass him, and everyone laughs.

“A little birdie told me you had something to do with the makings of Positions…” Nicki teases.

You gasp, feigning shock. “I never should’ve told you that! Ugh,” You groan again, and everyone laughs at your flustered state. “I slipped up one time. One! Time!”

“Feel free to keep slipping up, then,” Tom teases. You lightly slap his upper chest and he giggles, pulling you in to steal another kiss.

“Y/N says you’ve just wrapped filming with Zendaya…?” Doja suggests, and Tom immediately lights up again.

“Oh, yeah! Spider-man three. Actually, I think Daya may be here.”

“She is,” You confirm. “She’s with Jacob and Harry by the pool table.”

“I’m gonna introduce myself,” Doja smiles slyly, and you and Tom share a laugh at her antics. Megan trails after her, champagne glass still in her hands.

“Don’t embarrass me!” She stops to speak to you one last time. “Oh, and happy birthday, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you, Tom,” she waves and Tom returns the gesture.

The two of you are left alone with Nicki, who’s speaking to a man that Tom guesses to be her boyfriend. You pull Tom along again, settling by the snack table to grab a few churros and pretzels.

“So? Whaddya think?”

“Megan had really nice nails,” He says through bites.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he smiles, though his mouth is stuffed. “Super pretty.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to tell her.”

Tom chuckles softly, sipping some bottled water. You watch the way his jawline accentuates and you have to force your eyes away from his soft skin and back to the cinnamon delight in your hands.

“Nicki is literally just like her songs. Like- she talks in the same way. It’s so funny.”

“Yeah,” you lick your lips, mindlessly giving Tom the rest of your churro while he hands you his half-empty water bottle. “She’s such an entertaining person. It’d be fun to get together with her one day.”

“Definitely,” Tom smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Who’s next?”

“I think Kylie and her sister are here.”

“Oh my god,” he swallows. “Is Stormi here?”

“Of course you’d ask that.” You roll your eyes, putting the bottle into the recycling bin and pulling Tom towards a gathering of couches and lounge chairs. When you spot her, Travis Scott is taking pictures for what you assume to be her Instagram. She’s dressed in a skin-tight dress and some elegant heels, and you make a mental note to compliment her later.

“Kylie!” You make yourself known. She lets out a soft “oh!” and stands immediately to hug you. Travis turns his phone off and shakes Tom’s hand while you talk with Kylie. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you! Happy birthday,” She smiles before turning to Tom.

“Hey. I’m Tom. Y/N’s-”

“Boyfriend,” She finishes, shaking his hand. “I’m Kylie.”

When you notice Travis making his way back over to the three of you, you see Stormi in his arms and from your peripheral vision, Tom is bouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Stormi, this is Tom. He wanted to meet you,” Travis whispers softly, setting her down on her feet. She gravitates towards Tom, and the two of them start talking rather passionately about something fun. You chuckle at them, but you can’t help admiring Tom for his skills with kids.

You talk with Kylie about the past few months, and after several minutes, you see Harry and Harrison making their way over to you and Tom.

“And who’s this little lady?” Harrison smiles when Stormi giggles, and he kneels to her level.

“Stormi,” She says softly. Both Harrison and Tom clap and praise the sweet girl for introducing herself all on her own. Tom takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs, and Stormi finds comfort on his left leg while playing with his right hand. They discuss which nail polish colors would be best with Tom’s look, and you indulge in Kylie’s newest beauty and skincare products.

Later on, you’re back at the snack table with Tom, and after sufficiently filling up, you offer another suggestion. “Up for meeting Madonna again?”

Tom’s eyes widen and he groans, shaking his head in panic. “No. Absolutely not. Not after what happened last time-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say between laughs, grabbing his hand to calm him down. You wrap your arms around his neck and link your hands, leaning against him in a slow-dance position. His hands find the skin of your waist in comfort. The moment doesn’t last long when you notice Tom’s brothers making their way over with a glint in their eyes — you know they want something.

“What do you divs want?” Tom asks, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Well…”

“We heard Nicki Minaj is here,” Harrison interrupts Sam.

“Would you introduce us?” Harry beams in hope. He looks almost nervous, albeit still excited, about asking. Whether that’s because you might say no, or because she’s one of his favorite artists, neither you nor Tom know.

Separating from Tom, you let out a deep and exasperated breath, smiling goodbye and unlinking your hand with his. “Here we go again!” You whisper while the boys pull you along in the direction of the Queen of Rap.

[hoodieofholland]

Can u do a Tom Holland x actress reader

And there fwb and they get caught by the cast

:)) I generally don’t read much of it, but I think I’m starting to like fwb trope hahah hope you like it!!

Pairing: actor!tom x actress!reader

Warnings: mention of sex (+18), fwb plot, language.

"Shit, baby", Tom moans, supporting his head in the crook of your neck as he empties himself inside of you, on the condom. "My best girl".

Your breathing is still heavy, chest going up and down with some struggle as you run a hand over the hair that fell on your face. Tom holds your body firmly against the wall of his dressing room, one of your legs wrapped around his hips to keep yourself steady. You close your eyes, letting the bliss of your recent orgasm take over your body completely, feeling Tom getting out of you to get rid of the condom.

He walks towards the bin that is at the corner of your dress room, discarding it before coming back to you, rolling his pants back on and buttoning his shirt up again. Looking at you, who's currently tidying your dress up and brushing a hand relentlessly through your hair, he smiles, feeling like that was the most perfect sign of his day — a after-sex glow on your face, a thin layer of sweat glistening over your bare chest while you carried to dress up again.

"What is it?", you ask as soon as you catch his stare. Tom blushes and shakes his head as he averts his gaze to the ground.

"Uh, nothing" he mutters, fidgeting his hands. "You just look really pretty".

A smile almost makes its way to your face, but you make an effort to hide it, turning around to pretend being busy while gathering some of your belongings together.

"You've already fucked me, Holland, no need to play the charmer now", you mocked, and you can't lie to yourself about the light press on your chest as you say yourself saying something so harsh to him.

That wasn't the truth. You liked it when Tom said something nice besides the couple of praises when you were having sex. If you were being honest with yourself, you liked him more than you were willing to admit. However, this whole friend with benefits were long settled, since the first week of filming your movie together, and you couldn't just come up with your feelings now. The main rule was: never fall for each other.

It was supposed to be just sex. You and Tom were single and horny, and your work would stress the fuck out of you, so why not? Both of you were young, hot and the sex was amazing. There was nothing to worry about.

Well, except for the fact that you'd fall asleep with the thought of him every single night now.

Tom, however, wasn't buying your toughness so easily. He knew you had built some walls because of past relationships, after so many disappointments, but he was willing to try and tear them all down.

Sighing, he came closer to you, putting light hands on your hips and feeling you tense a little. "I'm not playing, love", he said, planting a soft kiss on your bare shoulder. "You're so pretty. And I'm not trying to be a charmer, you just deserve to know that".

You don't know what to say. Though you didn't want to show it, you felt flattered. Obviously, it was Tom, the most handsome man on that studio, the most handsome man you knew. He felt attracted to you and you couldn't help but feel happy for the fact that it wasn't just because he got to have sex with you, but just because he truly thinks you're beautiful.

"Thanks", you murmur, turning around again, pursing your lips as you feel your cheeks growing hot under his stare.

That was the thing about having an affair with someone you liked that much. It didn't matter, the fact that you were moaning his name just a couple of minutes ago, whispering dirty things on his ear and begging him, you could easily get flustered over something much more innocent and simple.

Tom smiled and took your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it and bringing to his lips to press a kiss. "I like you, y/n. A lot".

You release a shaky breath and give him a small smile. "You're so cheeky", he laughs and you smile wider. "I like you too, div. But don't flatter yourself too much. Now shut up, we're gonna be late".

He shakes his head while chuckling and guides you towards the door, hands still on yours. His dressing room was settle in a very empty aisle, which made it easier for you to sneak back to the set without being caught together.

Putting his hand on the door's handle, Tom's lips quirck up as he gives you a charming smile. "Y'know, I was thinking that maybe we could a nice dinner before I pop down to your place tomorr-"

Your eyes wide as soon as he opens the door, mouth going dry as you stare to the small crowd at the door. Jacob, Zendaya, Harrison and a few more crew members were leaning towards the door, smirks plastered on their faces and giggling like schoolers while whispering to one another. When they saw you, they straightened their backs, coughing a little, but didn't make any effort to hide the fact that they were listening to both of you.

Tom had his mouth hanging agape, eyes wide, trying to think about what to say.

"What the hell are you all doing here?!" You shout, too desperate with being caught to care about your tone.

"I told you!" Jacob yelled, jumping and pointing his finger to you and Tom.

"Yeah, think I gotta pay you now" Zendaya laughed, crossing her arms and clicking her tongue as she looked to both of you. "Congrats, fellas, you just made me lose a stupid bet".

"What the fuck?" Tom gasped, slipping his hand from yours, which you only realized to be holding now.

"Yeah, Jacob said you two were fucking, but Z bet 50 bucks you weren't", Harrison said, still laughing.

Your face went red. Your coworkers just caught you and Tom having sex in your workplace. What a way to show off your professionalism.

Seeing you completely ashamed, Tom furrowed and grabbed your hand, rolling his eyes.

"You guys, fuck off and mind your own business" he said, walking down the aisle and gesturing his head for you to follow him. "We're heading to set now".

You sighed, lips pursed as you and Tom walked side by side, too deep in thoughts to mind the fact that you were still holding hands with him in front of everyone.

"You alright?", Tom asked, concern filling his voice as he slowed his steps down. You look at him, and relax at the sign of his soft wrinkles.

You give him a small smile.

"Yeah. Just didn't want everyone to find out like that", you say, squeezing his hand. Taking a deep breath, you feel yourself easing a little when he takes your free hand and intertwine your fingers together.

"Honestly, I don't give a fuck", he shrugged. "Yeah, they know about us, and what? I love being around you, y/n, and we're adults, we know what we are doing, right?"

You nod twice, giving in to his soft eyes staring right into yours. "Thank you, Tom".

He smiles softly. "Any time, darling".

Biting your lips, you try to hide a smirk as you remember about your previous conversation. "So, about that dinner..."

****************

Taglist:

@pinkrockstar19

@onyourgoddamnleft

@spideyspeaches

@zspideyy

@miraclesoflove

@marlenetough

@nsxvision

@siriuslyslyslytherin

@mathletemadison

@tomshufflepuff

[phantomato]

not sure if non-romantic pairings are okay for this but hand-holding 1with tom riddle sr. and baby tom would be so cute 🥺 father and son fluff💓

Prompt: Little hand in big hand

Post-Ganymede, Tommy is probably ~5 years old here.

Father-son fluff, you say?

—

“Up, Papa, up! Fly!”

I survey the parlor floor, rug strewn with the wreckage of Tommy’s play. Stuffed animals lay in a heap, a train set has careened off of its rails and into what was once a tower of blocks, and metal cars drive through the paths left behind.

“Someone needs to clean up his things before we can play another game,” I tell my son. Predictably, he pouts. “Use your magic for the blocks, Tommy, just like we practiced.” I take out the bin as he scrunches his tiny face and concentrates, blocks sorting themselves by color and shape to fit back into storage.

“I did it!” he shouts, running over to peer into the bin and confirm it with his own eyes. “Look, Papa!”

“Very good,” I praise him. He beams over at me. We’re working on that, on showing Tommy that his magic is a good and wonderful thing when he uses it thoughtfully. Tantrums resulting in exploding apples are mostly a thing of the past. “Now only three things left to tidy: the animals, the cars, and the train.”

He hops to it, pushing the train set back into its box—a bit messy, but he’s in a hurry and I let it pass—and sending the cars and the animals to the outer edges of the room. He’s allowed to do that; they’ll be dragged out across the floor again tomorrow.

One animal stays with him, though. The stuffed rabbit Cecelia gave him for his last birthday has been a recent favorite, and he drags the rabbit over to prop against a leg of the sofa. He’ll want it later.

“All done, Papa.” He points at the empty rug to demonstrate. “Up, now. I want to fly!”

Celia has mocked me for this game in the past, when she’s caught us at it—“Could you lose any more dignity, Tom Riddle?” she asked—but it makes Tommy smile like nothing else. No other adult would, or could, do it for him. It’s something for just us, father and son, and I’ll help him ‘fly’ as long as he likes.

“Clear out,” I tell him, lying on my back at the center of the rug once he’s made room. I take a moment to stretch my legs, bending them up to my chest one at a time, before planting my feet flat on the floor, knees up, and telling Tommy, “Get into position.”

He stands in front of my feet and reaches his hands forward. I grab them with my own—tiny things, I can close my whole fist around his hand when he curls his fingers in—and place the soles of both my feet to rest against his stomach.

“Ready?”

He gives me a solemn nod.

With a great heave, I lift him by his stomach so that he’s suspended above me, balanced on my hands and feet, as though he’s flying through the air. He shrieks—we haven’t made progress with using his indoor voice when he’s excited—and kicks his legs out. “Fly, Papa!” he demands once more, so I make my closest approximation of airplane noises and carefully maneuver him through dips and dives. He’s seen pictures of the biplanes from the Great War, heard stories about dogfights and daredevil pilots, and acts them out now.

“I see him, Papa! The Red Baron!” That’s my cue to let go of one of his hands so that he lists slightly to the side.

Tommy uses his free hand to conjure a breeze to send his hair flying back from his face like a real pilot, and I call over the noise, “Did he get you, Tommy?”

“Just a scratch!” he blusters, wobbling about while I continue to rock him around as though he’s flying through rough winds.

I haven’t dropped him. Yet. He’s big enough now that I think he would be fine if he fell.

“If you’ve been hit, sir, you should land!” I am the concerned subordinate in a neighboring plane, worried for my sergeant. But Tommy is an ace in this game, the best of us all, and only he can take down the Baron.

“I have him!” He lifts his second hand from my hold, and here’s the tricky part—I have to keep him balanced on my feet as he brings both hands up, pretending to man a gun, and shakes them in a pantomime of shooting. He makes the bullet noises with his mouth, a rapid patter of plosives, until he throws his hands up in victory.

“Got him! I shot him down!”

I rush to catch his hands before he tips backwards and we fly for a few more minutes, Tommy telling me all about his glorious victory.

“He was a dragon this time?” I ask, popping him up high.

“No, Papa, he was riding a dragon. With three sets of wings, just like his plane!”

“That sounds unwieldy.”

“It was very frightening!” He pouts at me and kicks his legs, his sign for ‘down.’ “He was really strong and I got him, because I am the best ace in England.”

“Of course you are.” I slowly lower him until his little toes touch the ground and he bounces off. He pulls his rabbit from where it sits and stands by the sofa expectantly.

“Nap time?” I guess, sitting up and stretching my back.

“Nap time,” he agrees.

“Let me find my—”

Tommy holds out the novel I’ve been working through before I can even stand.

“Thank you,” I tell him. “Ready for your nap?”

I lie across the seat of the sofa, propped against a handful of pillows, and pat my stomach. He climbs on, one arm wrapped around the rabbit and the other clutching my shirt, so that he’s wedged between me and the back of the sofa.

Tommy doesn’t need naps anymore. He doesn’t take them during the week. On weekends, when he and I spend full days together, he demands it—demands to squish himself beside me while I do my afternoon reading, demands that I hug him close, and demands—

“Papa?” He turns his face up, hovering expectantly in my field of vision. “Kiss?”

I kiss his forehead, smooth down his windswept hair, and kiss it once more.

“I love you, Tommy,” I tell him. I tell him because he needs to hear it, and I tell him because—

“I love you, Papa,” he replies.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hi!! If you're taking requests, would you be interested in doing a Loki x con artist! reader? I think the acting/lying/magic dynamic could be neat. No pressure of course! Thank you!!

Enchantress

A/N: I think this is the best request I’ve gotten in a while! Thank youu anon I hope I’ve done it justice.

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: none! Fluff.

Word count: 1127

Requests & Challenges

Loki/Tom H Taglist: @delightfulheartdream @what-a-flammable-heart @castiels-majestic-wings @lokis-leah

Everything Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Tags are open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be in any of these lists :))

.

“How was I supposed to know? I can’t see into the future, I’m not a witch.”

“No? Then why do you dress like one?”

An involuntary chuckle left your lips as you passed the two rather tall, bickering gentlemen. The one with raven long hair, wearing a dark suit heard it and turned his head your way, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. Before he could locate you however, the crowd provided a perfect blend for you to disappear, leaving the God to scoff before getting back to his brother.

This was the first time Loki heard a laugh that intrigued him enough to want to hear it again.

.

The second time he heard it, there were several police cars surrounding a building along with at least a dozen worried-looking people. From the looks of it, there had been a robbery as Loki picked up on some conversations floating around while he watched from an adjacent alley.

“Fools, all of them.”

There it was again, that chuckle, coupled with an alluring voice that made him turn around only to see a cloud of white smoke and then nothing but an old bin. A few seconds later, a metal scrape grabbed his attention upwards seeing a figure rapidly ascending the fire escape stairs before vanishing from sight.

It couldn’t be magic, could it? There weren’t any known sorcerers on Midgard, not that he was aware of any other than the Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen Strange. And Loki was well aware of his magic.

This was different. Once again Loki was left wondering when he’d get to put a face to that voice.

.

“Wait here, brother.”

“Why?”

“Because the people inside aren’t too pleased with your presence. I however am pretty popul...”

“Fine have it your way. That place is too cramped anyways.”

Loki huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and trudged onto the dark and empty street, leaving Thor behind to deal with his beloved Midgardians. A rustle of leaves gained his attention as he slowed his pace to locate the source. You tripped and fell on the curb from the bushes, hands thankfully coming in front to protect your face just in time.

Loki stepped forward to help but you were already on your feet, dusting the leaves off of your coat while your hair flew in the light breeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Ugh. Fine. Thank you.”

It was that voice. The one Loki had been searching for, the one that had him wonder what the person behind it would look like. He tried to get a glimpse of your face while you brushed some dirt off your pants, when you didn’t, he tried again.

“Are you sure?”

At that moment, you looked up at him. Narrowing your eyes just a little as you tried to place that familiar face before realisation dawned.

“You’re Loki.”

“Why yes. And you are?” Loki managed a small smile, extending his hand, very unlike his usual self. His eyes taking in the beauty he saw standing before him.

You glanced back at the house you had emerged from, a silhouette pacing about the bedroom window possibly on a phone alarmed you to get the fuck outta that place.

“Can we walk?”

“Uh. Sure.”

Loki frowned but followed without asking further questions, your walk turning into a brisk jog as you searched for a secluded and safe spot.

Once you made sure you were away from prying eyes, you leaned against a fence closing your eyes for a brief moment before realising you weren’t alone.

“You were running away from something. Someone?” He asked, warily looking around before facing you, clearly intrigued by the whole situation.

“They owed me.” You spoke quietly.

“It was you the other day. At that building with all the police, wasn’t it?”

“Were you following me?”

“Not at all. I just happened to be in the same arena.”

You eyed the God of Mischief who had just got defensive, something that clearly wasn’t new to him.

It was like a thief being caught in red handed.

Smirking at the man, you reached under your coat to reveal a piece of jewellery just for a second before making it vanish. The sleight of hand impressed Loki instantly as his green eyes sparked interest even in the dim yellow light cast by the street lamps.

“You’re a sorceress.” He whispered, the glint in his eye so obvious, it made you stifle a giggle.

“We don’t have those on Earth.”

“And what of your precious Stephen Strange?”

“Who?” You frowned, not knowing who this said Strange was.

“Nevermind. A witch then?” Loki questioned, stepping closer as if to get a good look at you.

“I prefer the term con artist.”

“Why?” He prodded.

“You’re awfully curious.”

He remained silent, waiting for you to speak.

“Well if you must know, I wasn’t always like this. Those people back there, they owed me and my family. I simply took what was mine.”

Loki only nodded, the similarities between the two of you spoke volumes. He did not miss that flash of sadness and regret that reflected in your eyes as you spoke, empathy - a rare emotion for the Jotun rose in his heart.

“How?”

“Trust of the innocent is a liar’s greatest tool.”

“What about the other day in that building?”

“A simple trickery. No harm done, but you know. People are paranoid.” You whispered for emphasis, bringing a smile to his face and yours.

Staring at his tall figure, you didn’t feel he was a stranger which actually he was, somehow he seemed not all that different from you. Loki’s striking features were unmatched, those eyes hid innumerable secrets and yet they seemed understanding. His voice was smooth enough to fool the smartest of them all and yet it held compassion.

“So you’re a thief.” Loki teased, offering his hand as you went to stand up. His cold touch contrasted your warm one.

“A trickster.”

“A trickster.” He confirmed, not willing to let go of your hand just yet.

Maybe it was the unconventionality of it all, maybe it was the way you spoke, but Loki found it difficult to let you go from his sight even as he heard Thor stomping towards the alley. Turning to face him after stealing a last look at you, he smiled when that white smoke returned, knowing you had vanished.

“What was that? Who were you talking to?” Thor frowned at his brother who simply shrugged, patting him on the back before returning to the road.

Loki glanced over his shoulder even though the alley was deserted, the word ‘enchantress’ stuck on his mind as he cursed himself for not asking your name.

[justthehiddleswrites]

My Sweater | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  You both said some stupid things but when you brought up his past relationship you took it too far. Now you are at home dealing with the aftermath of the break-up with rom-com movies and ice cream when a knock on the door brings an unexpected guest.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst

-

For the last three weeks in a row, you had spent your weekend hunkered down in your apartment, drowning your sorrows in pints of ice cream. Everything had been going perfectly. You were dating the man of your dreams and the relationship had been going fantastic. And then your stupid mouth got in the way. To be fair, you had both said hurtful things but you had made the deepest cuts. As you tend to do when you are angry but know you are in the wrong, you resorted to attacking the other person.

“I should have known better than to get involved with someone who would date a…pop star.”

Those last two words were dripping with contempt and disdain. You knew it would hurt him and hurt him deep. His relationship with her had always been a sore spot and pretty much off limits.

“GET… OUT!” Tom bellowed and gestured wildly towards the door.

His face was an unappealing shade of red and his nostrils were flared. You were so taken aback that you gathered your purse and phone and stormed towards the door. But you couldn’t stop from taking one more jab.

“You will regret this Hiddleston, I swear it!”

And with that you slammed the door behind you.

But he hadn’t regretted it, you had. By the next morning, your head cleared and you realized how stupid you had been. You had tried calling him to apologize but he was screening your calls. And certainly he wasn’t answering his door. Hell, even Luke wouldn’t give you the time of day. So you resigned yourself to moping around your apartment and watching crap romantic comedies on the TV. Oh and an enormous amount of ugly crying and junk food was on the agenda as well. You hadn’t changed your clothes in days. You had found one of Tom’s sweaters in your room, left behind after one evening. It still smelled of his cologne. You had taken to wearing it constantly, even to bed.

Just as you finished When Harry Met Sally and were getting ready to start While You Were Sleeping, you heard a knock on the front door. You had not been expecting any of your friends coming over. Although for the first few days a virtual parade of friends appeared to commiserate with you over the break-up. But that had stopped a while ago.

You peeked through the spy hole to see a tall lanky male figure standing at your door, holding a box. Shit. It was Tom.

You quickly wiped away the tear trails off your cheeks and prayed your breath was passable. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door to face the music.

Tom had turned to leave but you called out to stop him.

“Hey.”

“I have your stuff,” he responded coldly.

He shoved the box into your hands. You didn’t realize it had come to this. This break-up was really happening.

“Come in. I will get your stuff together,” you replied.

You left the door opened and he followed. He stood in the living room as though he had never been there before. awkwardly looking around. Tom could see the aftermath of your fight on you. The trash bin was overflowing with candy wrappers and ice cream cartons. There were crumpled Kleenex strewn about the couch and coffee table as well several empty soda cans and coffee mugs.

His mood soften just a bit. He had come over with every intention of ending the relationship. He had thought you heartless and rigid and as an actor he needed a partner who could be flexible and understanding. But surveying your home, he knew he had it all wrong. This had a devastating effect on you.

You emerged from your bedroom with a small box of items. You were sniffling and it was clear you had been crying while gathering the belongings in the bedroom. Even at your worst, Tom still found you adorable.

“Here is your stuff. I’m not sure if it is all of it, But if I find anything else, I will just mail it out to you. “

You sighed deeply and mustered the last of your courage and dignity to say what you needed to. It was now or never.

“Listen Tom, I know I was out of line. And I have no excuse other than it is what I always do but still I should not have said what I said. I am so sorry. I know you are done with me. But I just want you to know I would give anything to take it back and start over,” you said rapidly.

You took a couple of deep breath as tears began welling up in your eyes as the last of your composure crumbled in front of the man you had fallen in love with. You turned so Tom wouldn’t see you crying.

“My sweater.” he replied.

Without turning, you asked, “ Your sweater?”

“Yes, you are wearing my sweater. It is my favorite and I would like it back, please.”

You were shocked at his reaction. You had expected something more than just a request for his sweater. A response, more yelling, something. But this was so cold, so unlike the Tom you knew. What you couldn’t see was the small grin on Tom’s face and the subtle shake of shoulders as he stifled his laughter.

Back still turned you took off the sweater, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. Feeling self-conscious, you wrapped your arms around your body as you handed the sweater over your shoulder. You had resisted the urge to throw it in his face.

“There you go. That’s everything. Now if there is nothing else, you know the way out and have a good life.”

Tom cleared his throat.

“Actually there is something else…”

You whipped around, interrupting him.

“What else can you possibly take from me? I am standing here bare both physically and emotionally. You have literally taken the clothes off my back,” you sobbed.

Tom chuckled and stepped forward, pulling a handkerchief from his pants pocket. He wiped the tears from your face and placed a soft kiss on each of your cheeks.

“What I was saying before you interrupted me. Again. Was that I need you to shower and put some proper clothes on, so we can go to a coffee shop to talk about this relationship going forward.”

Your jaw dropped open.

“What are you saying?”

He smiled and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I am saying let’s try again. We can’t start over but we can move forward. But it will take better communication…from both of us. So get dressed before I change my mind,” he smiled and you smiled back.

You hustled off to the bathroom to wash the weeks of inertia and self-loathing off you. While you were in there, Tom cleaned up the living room and kitchen and as you emerged in clean jeans and t-shirt, he was just started your dishwasher.

“Ready.”

You grabbed your purse and Tom led you out the building. You were happy to be out and with Tom and you were eternally grateful for this second chance. You promised yourself not to squander it.