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clarklovescarole · 1 year

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August 1939: Burglary and Appendicitis

August 1, 1939 – The Daily Argus

Clark Gable Nabs a Burglar; Wife Lombard Has a Good Laugh

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, whose uproarious courtship was a matter of note, still enjoy a good laugh.

They had it when the screen’s no. 1 male star turned he-man at home yesterday to overpower and disarm an eighteen-year-old Polish youth he found hiding in the closet of his dressing room.

“The madame thought it was quite funny, and she laughed when I called her at the studio,” Gale said. “She has a swell sense of humor, at all times.”

The No. 1 he-man of the films thought it was funny, too, but he said he regretted that he had to turn Willard J. Broski over to the police. The officers said the youth probably would be given a psychiatric examination before any charges were filed.

Gable had just finished a shower bath and was about to get into his clothes when he saw the door of his dressing room closet move and the tip of a man’s shoe protrude.

“Come out of there,” Gable yelled, advancing on the door. Broski came out and Gable leaped on him. A revolver, taken from the gun room of the Gables’ Van Nuys home, fell to the floor in the scuffle.

Broski got a good working over, but he was unhurt after Gable dragged him downstairs and held him until officers arrived. The actor said the youth told him he wanted money and hoped Gable would give him $15 or $20.

Carole had gone to her studio for scenes and missed all the action.

Broski said he was an unemployed cook’s helper and that he had “always wanted to see Gable but couldn’t meet him.”

August 4, 1939 – Los Angeles Times

Clark Gable Testifies Against Youth Captured in His Home

Clark Gable, screen actor, played to one of the smallest audiences in his career yesterday.

It was in the tiny Van Nuys courtroom when he was called before Municipal Judge William Frederickson at 10 a.m. as a witness against Willard J. Broski, 18, captured as a burglary suspect in his North Hollywood ranch home.

The courtroom has seats to accommodate about 60 persons. Thirty of them were occupied when Broski’s preliminary hearing on a burglary charge was called.

Gable, dressed in a gray sports coat, light gray slacks and open-front polo shirt, sat among the spectators awaiting his turn on the witness stand. He wore a mustache. He wasn’t annoyed by autograph hounds. He was pleasant but appeared not to like the role he was playing against the youth.

From the witness stand, Gable calmly reiterated how he stepped from a shower in the master bedroom suite of his home last Monday to see a figure disappear behind a closet door.

“I yelled for the intruder to come out,” Gable testified. “As the door opened I grappled with the stranger. I noticed that he had one of my antique guns sticking from his belt.

“To protect myself, I grabbed him, threw him to the floor and disarmed him. That’s about all there was to it. I held him until the officers arrived.”

Detective Lieutenant Chester Welch, who, with Detective Lieutenant Paul Harrison, arrested Broski, Fannie Jacobson, a cook for Gable and his wife, Carole Lombard, and William Milner, the butler, were other witnesses.

Judge Frederickson bound Broski over on a burglary charge to the Superior Court, where he will be arraigned in Division 41 on Aug. 19.

August 5, 1939 – The Miami Herald

Carole Lombard Has Appendectomy

Associated Press

“She’s okay,” said Clark Gable to friends who telephoned Friday at a hospital to ask about his wife, Carole Lombard.

Miss Lombard, ill for two days and unable to work, was taken to the hospital late Thursday night for an emergency appendectomy. Gable sat up with her all night.

August 5, 1939 – The Plain Speaker

Carole Lombard, playing the role of a nurse in her new picture “Vigil In the Night,” is getting some firsthand, if painful, pointers in a hospital.

She was a patient, and convalescing well, at Good Samaritan Hospital today after an appendectomy made necessary by a sudden attack at her studio (RKO) Thursday afternoon.

Husband Clark Gable spent a restless night in her room after the operation but told friends today that she appeared to be out of danger.

Miss Lombard complained to Director George Stevens Thursday that she was experiencing shooting pains in her right side. She went home and Gable rushed her to the hospital. The operation was performed less than an hour after her arrival.

Her picture will be delayed two weeks by the operation.

August 6, 1939 – The Eugene Guard

Carole Lombard Ill; Can’t Study Role

United Press

Carole Lombard, blonde movie actress wife of Clark Gable, was too ill from the effects of an emergency appendectomy today to study the nursing technique necessary to her role in a forthcoming picture.

She arrived at Good Samaritan hospital Thursday night in the real life role of a patient, doubled up with acute appendicitis pains. The operation was performed immediately while Gable paced the corridor outside the operating room.

Miss Lombard was to have begun a study today under auspices of the Good Samaritan nursing school staff to prepare herself for her portrayal of a nurse in the picture, “Vigil in the Night.”

Gable appeared this morning, seated in her flower-banked room at the hospital, as the personification of the picture title; he was bleary-eyed, unshaven, and weary after his 48-hour vigil.

Dr. Norman Williams, the operating surgeon, said Miss Lombard was showing a rapid recovery but would be too ill for the next 24 hours to study the technique of the young nurse flitting, not too calmly, around the handsome Gable’s chair.

August 9, 1939 – Monticello Herald Journal

Don’t know if Carole Lombard and Clark Gable have hired the watchman yet, but they have bought a pair of bloodhounds trained for police work. You can hear them bay for about six miles, Carole says. Well, maybe not quite that far.

August 9, 1939 – Holyoke Daily Transcript

One of the funnier sidelights of Gable’s capture of the youthful gunman was overlooked. The intruder spent most of the night in Carole Lombard’s car in the garage. Less than 10 feet away peacefully slept Gable’s bulldog, Toughie. He never let out a single yelp of warning.

Probably result of the little melodrama will be the hiring of a watchman at the star’s menage. Carole and Clark hated to have one around, but they are afraid that the ease with which the visitor roamed their house may put ideas into other heads.

August 20, 1939 – Atlantic City Press

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard romping around among the cows and chickens looks as happy as a couple of kids. Glanced over some 20 photographs of them the other day “down on the farm,” doing everything except milking the cow.

The expressions on their faces is a long way from the hectic squinting of eyes and corrugating of brows which have become the accustomed thing among actors, producers, directors, and who-not who bet on the horses practically every day. Hundreds of thousands of dollars change hands at the Hollywood track during the summer and at Santa Anita in the winter months, to say nothing of what goes on in little cubbyholes here and there where bookies hang out. Several producers have private wires in their offices, which would seem to be the height of something or other. Maybe it’s the reason for the “low high” in picture production the past few weeks.

August 20, 1939 – Detroit Free Press

Carole Lombard and Clark Gable have the right idea. They were observed having a picnic luncheon put up for them the other day at the Brown Derby in Hollywood. They were off to the Santa Susannah Mountains for a picnic instead of a trip to Europe which they had planned originally. They have decided to see America first and wait for the European war clouds to roll by.

August 25, 1939 – San Pedro News

Happiest man in town these days is Clark Gable, who after seven years of fruitless angling finally landed his first marlin swordfish – it weighed just under 200 pounds and battled more than two hours before coming to gaff…

August 29, 1939 – Daily Clintonian

Now that Carole Lombard is on the mend, Clark Gable has gone to San Diego to try for marlin swordfish. He stayed in the adjoining room the whole time Carole was in the hospital…

#1939 #clark gable #carole lombard #old hollywood

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harrisonstories · 2 years

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Ray Cooper talking about George Harrison in the documentary, An Accidental Studio.

Happy Birthday, George. Thank you for making this world a little brighter. In so many ways.

“I didn’t know what to expect, because a lot of other rock stars had turned us down, including Mick Jagger who we had also represented. I eventually secured a meeting with George and went along to see him at Apple. He met me at the door and told me how much he admired the work we were doing. As soon as we sat down in his office, he opened his desk drawer and, without asking questions or making any conditions, he took out his check book and wrote a check. I was so grateful and so amazed that I said my thanks, took the check and walked out of the office not even daring to look at it. I expected maybe £10 or £20 but, when I eventually looked at it, he’d given us £5,000 [...] which saved us from closing. When I saw how much he’d given us, I burst into tears." - Caroline Coon [x]

“George said to me after the second session, ‘What are you doing, Doris? Are you free?’ I said, ‘Yeah, man, I’m free.’ He said ‘Do you want to sign to Apple?’ I said ‘Sure! Are you serious?’ He said, ‘Yeah.’ I said, ‘Well, I want to be writer, producer and artist, OK?’ He said ‘OK.’” - Doris Troy [x]

"Yesterday, as [Janet Guthrie] announced that she would receive 'somewhat more than $100,000' in oil money to attempt to take part in the million‐dollar race May 28, a representative of George Harrison, the former Beatle, called to say he, too, would like to sponsor the only woman in history to appear in the auto racing classic. The representative was told Harrison was too late." - New York Times [x]

"Later that winter I got a message telling me to head down to the offices of Dark Horse Records and Harrisongs in Sloane Square, where a very smart, prim and proper lady handed me a cheque, written out by the record label, for £50,000. ‘You are the third person this week and it’s only Tuesday!’ she smiled, shaking her head." - Steve Parrish [x]

“I’d be calling into George, and he’d say, ‘I’ll pay for it,’ so I thought ‘Yeah yeah yeah.’ And all the time he’s saying, ‘No I’ll take care of it.’ We were looking for $4 million. Nobody has that amount of money, you know? Eventually when we finally got to California, George says, ‘Yeah, I figured it out. We’re gonna create a company and we’re gonna give you the money,’ and it’s $4 million, and he mortgaged his house to put up the money for [Life of Brian] because he wanted to see it, which is still the most anybody’s ever paid for a cinema ticket.” - Eric Idle, Living in the Material World

“'There was this guy who wanted to start up a garden centre near Henley in a village called Woodcote and they gave him such a hard time. He battled for years and years to get permission to open. It is now lovely to see people at the weekends driving out from his little place with tiny trees sticking out of their car windows!' I asked Harrison about the help that he is so often said to give to local people in situations like this. For example, had he paid for the garden centre proprietor’s planning appeal expenses? Harrison smiled and said, 'You know, I never answer questions like that. It’s better simply to think that God ensured the right decision was reached, ultimately.’” - Nick Dent-Robinson [x]

"If you are involved in Handmade, the possibilities really are quite extraordinary. You could just come up with a lollipop wrapper and say, 'I'd like to make a film about this character on the lollipop wrapper.' 'Yeah?' [laughs] And they'll listen." - Bob Hoskins, Movie Life of George

“I really was shocked that he actually said that he would help. But he helped lots of people in different ways that you never get to hear about, so I didn’t like to talk about it. I felt really grateful to George for helping me out at a time when I really needed a leg up." - Damon Hill, Living in the Material World (book)

“When I arrived home, Christina already greeted me with a huge smile on her face. What had happened? Christina had, as discussed, faxed the offer [from a moving company to transport materials for a Lakota youth building] to George. Two hours later, his assistant called with the request to be sent to bank account number of Christina’s organization Lakota Village Fund. 'George wants to pay for the shipping costs.' 'But he only wanted to find a cheaper moving service for us?' Christina was speechless. 'I don’t know anything about that. He told me to send over the money for the shipping right away. Good luck, Christina.'” - Klaus Voormann, Last Visit with George

"[The Harrisons] have always been in contact with us and when George died, he gave my foundation $30,000 to teach mariachi classes in Los Angeles." - José Hernández [x]

"For a man who seemed to have everything, and who could hardly stop himself from being amusing when he was in front of a microphone (even if his interviewers often seemed to miss the joke). George Harrison could come across as being surprisingly unhappy. He wore his heart on his sleeve and his opinions on his lips, and didn’t make any attempts to keep them hidden. For all his obsession with the saintly life, he certainly wasn’t one himself, as his nearest and dearest would probably be the first to admit. He didn’t suffer fools gladly, and sometimes he gave the impression that everyone else was a fool. Yet, as I’ve said, he was also perhaps the most generous soul in music history - certainly the man who gave away the highest proportion of his income." - Peter Doggett, British Beatles Fan Club magazine

#george harrison #the beatles #ray cooper #eric idle #bob hoskins #monty python #handmade films #klaus voormann #damon hill #living in the material world #an accidental studio #quote compilation #video #happy birthday george #2022

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naturallytom · 3 years

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Mending a Broken Heart (Tom Holland x reader, alternative part)

a/n: me? writing? unheard of. jk im tryin to get back into the groove!! this is an alternate version to Mending a Broken Heart, so some parts are the same and some I’ve edited or added some things! hope u enjoy!!

warnings: language, angst, mentions of cheating

please reblog/leave feedback!!

picture not mine!

You had noticed it for months. Tom has been pulling away, spending more time out with the boys than at home with you. His kisses became forced and the words ‘love you’ slowly stopped falling from his lips.

Most days he would leave for work before you woke up and on the rare occasion you were up when he left, he would mumble a ‘goodbye’ before walking out the door. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he would press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Most times, though, he would just leave.

You did your best to keep the love alive, you were still madly in love with him. The wedding band that sat tightly on your ring finger mocked you. A symbol of what was love has turned into one sided love. Hell, you weren’t sure if Tom wore his wedding ring anymore.

A quick glance to his left hand would reveal that he didn’t.

You spent your nights wondering if it was something you did. Were you too clingy when he left to film? Was he just tired of you after four years of marriage? Did he find someone else?

No. You shook your head to yourself one night as you laid in the bed by yourself, the space usually occupied by Tom cold. If he found someone else and if he cheated, that’s on him. Not on you.

Still, the thought plagued your mind. Did he meet someone else? Was she prettier than you? Is that where he was when he said he was out with the boys? Was she able to give him something you couldn’t give him?

The door opening and shutting alerted you that Tom was home. You sighed, knowing it’d be another night of sleeping on opposite sides of the bed.

The door to the bedroom opened and in came Tom, Tessa jumping up to greet him.

“Hey girl, hey love, how are you, hm?” He whispered, petting Tessa as his eyes flickering over to you, who was visibly awake. “Thought you’d be asleep by now. ‘S late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied simply. “Hey so I was thinking, we haven’t had a date night in a while, maybe you wanted to go out to see the Halloween decorations around town and get dinner tomorrow night?”

“Can’t,” He shook his head as he got ready for bed. “Harrison wants to watch the game. Told him I’d go.”

“Didn’t you just see Harrison tonight?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing.” You sighed, obviously upset. “Nothing, Tom. Goodnight.”

“Night.” He responded, turning out the light and climbing into bed, falling asleep with his back toward you.

The next day, you were surprised to see Tom already awake and waiting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea when you got downstairs.

“Good morning.” You smiled softly.

“We need to talk.” He told you. You felt your heart drop and your palms get sweaty, but you wiped them on your pajama pants in an effort to seem totally calm and not panicked.

“A-About what?” You asked, your voice coming out shaky.

“I think,” Tom started. “I think we should get divorced.”

It was then, at 8:30 am that your world came crashing down.

“W-What?” You whimpered out, your voice weaker than before. “Why?”

“I’m not happy with you anymore.” He said simply. Your eyes flickered to his left hand, noticing the absence of the golden wedding band, making your heart ache.

“We can try couples’ therapy. We can go on dates like we used to, Tom, please! We can fight for this, Tom. Fight for us.” You cried, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, each one puncturing your lungs as you struggled to keep your breath under control.

“No,” He shook his head. “My mind is made up. I’m sorry, y/n. Um, I found a lawyer at a firm, they have a lot of other lawyers there you can contact. I’ll just, uh, leave their card here.”

“So that’s it? Three years of dating and four years of marriage down the drain?” You sobbed, holding your knees to your chest as you sat on the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, I am.”

He placed the small business card on the counter, grabbing the bags you didn’t even notice, mumbling an ‘I’ll be staying with Haz,’ before walking out the front door, like he did every other day. This time, though, you had the sinking feeling he was leaving for good.

It was only three weeks that your lawyer came over to meet with you, joined by Tom and his lawyer. You kept your eyes focused on the table as you signed the paperwork, wanting to get this done as soon as possible.

As soon as everyone left, you shut the door, slid down the back of it, and cried.

Nearly two months after the worst day of your life and it was time for a self care night. The ring that once sat on your left hand was buried away in your jewelry box somewhere and you were finally starting to feel free and somewhat happy again after crying yourself to sleep and wondering where it all went wrong for months.

After the divorce you buried yourself in work, using it as a distraction from going home to an empty house. You also moved out of the house you once called home. Not only was it too painful to go home to an empty house, but it was too painful to go home to a house that held so many happy and loving memories. You took the necessities along with some things you wanted with you and set yourself up in a hotel room for the time being. You treated it as a vacation. Except only a few people knew where you were. Your family knew, along with your friends, including Harrison, on the condition he didn’t tell Tom where you were. You started making time for yourself in your little hotel room and you became happier.

Tonight, after a long day of work, you ordered your favorite Chinese food, played your favorite songs, and ran yourself a bath with a vanilla scented bath bomb. You were enjoying a glass of wine, the hot water of the bath soothing you when the music playing from your phone was interrupted by a call coming in.

To your surprise, it was Tom. You contemplated answering it, but instead, let it go to voicemail. However, you were curious as to why he called, though you were also 99% positive it was a pocket dial. So you played the voicemail, the familiar voice ringing throughout the bathroom.

“Hey y/n, um, I hope you’re doing well. I just called because I wanted to tell you something. I um, I miss you. A lot. And I know I don’t get to feel that way but I do and I just wanted to tell you that and I guess ask if there was any possibility of meeting to talk? Uh, call me back if...if you want. I don’t blame you if you hate me. Bye. Love y-”

You turned off the voicemail before the phrase could be finished. Millions of thoughts filled your mind, ranging from happy ones to ones that made your heart ache and tears fill your eyes.

You decided to ignore it, pretend it never happened, and enjoy your self care night.

When Tom pulled up to his former house with flowers in his car and a pit of nerves in his stomach, he expected to see your car in the driveway and at least one light to be on. He was greeted with an empty driveway and a dark house, which confused him. It was the weekend, so you weren’t work. Maybe you had to run an errand?

But after 20 minutes, he gave up hope that you were home and tried to call you, which to no surprise, you didn’t pick up again. He instead called Harrison in an effort to try and find out if he knew where you were.

“What do you want?” Harrison answered, half concentrating on what Tom was about to say and half concentrating on the game in front of him.

“Do, uh, do you know where y/n is?” Tom asked, taking Harrison by surprise.

“y/n?” Harrison paused the game, suddenly not able to concentrate on it. “Why d’you want to know where y/n is?”

“I just want to talk to her.” He mumbled.

“If I knew that’s where you were going I wouldn’t have let you go.” Harrison sighed. “Listen she made me swear that I wouldn’t tell you-”

“Please Harrison? You’ve seen how much of a mess I’ve been. I just want to see if I have a shot.” Tom begged, making his friend cave.

“Fine but if she moves again I won’t be telling you shit.”

The next day you were enjoying a cup of tea and reading your book, getting some relaxation in before your week began when a knock on the door interrupted you. Confusion filled your body, you weren’t expecting anyone to pop by.

Looking out the peephole, you froze at the sight that greeted you. Tom was standing outside your door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands.

“Hi.” He breathed out, his nose and the tips of his ears red from the harsh winter air.

“How the hell did you find me?” You asked, keeping your eyes focused on the ground.

“Harrison. I begged him to tell me.” He answered.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You muttered. “What do you want?”

“Can..Can I come in?” He asked.

You wanted to say no, that he could say what he wanted to say outside or just not let him speak at all. But you wanted to be courteous to the other people on your floor and part of you was curious as to what he was going to say. So you wordlessly opened the door slightly, letting him in and closing the door behind him.

“Now what do you want?”

“Did you get my voicemail?” He responded, hope filling his eyes when you nodded. “Um, I brought these for you. I was hoping we could talk.”

“I don’t want your flowers. Why should I talk to you? We’re divorced, just like you wanted.” Tom winced at the words. “Nothing to change.”

“Actually, we’re not.” He corrected. “I called the office the other day. Um, it’s not official yet.”

“Well then they should make it official. Maybe I can call them and make it happen as my very last Christmas present to you. Just what you wanted.” You snapped.

“No, this isn’t what I want, can I speak, please?” He pleaded, his eyes resembling those of a puppy.

“You’re speaking already.” You answered, gesturing for him to continue nonetheless.

“I- How have you been? I stopped by the house-”

“Tom I’m not gonna listen to your small talk. Say what you have to say and leave.” You told him. His heart broke but he couldn’t blame you.

“Um, so I thought I wasn’t happy with you but um, as time went on, I realized how much I miss having you in my life.” He began, visibly nervous. “I was just looking through our pictures and how happy you looked and I just, I guess I realized I wanted to be the one to make you that happy again.”

“You haven’t made me happy in months, Tom.”

“I know.” His heart clenched. “I know and I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am.”

“Was there someone else? Did you cheat on me?” You asked.

“No, no absolutely not, y/n.” He answered before adding; “I went on a date with someone after we split up but it didn’t work out. I realized she wasn’t what I want.”

“Of course she wasn’t.” You scoffed.

“I want you, y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy again.” He told you, tears filling your eyes. “Is there..is there any possibility you could love me again?”

“Again?” You seethed. “Tom I never fell out of love with you! I never stopped loving you! That was all you! You stopped loving me and you wanted this stupid fucking divorce!”

“I..I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either.” He whispered, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. “Please, y/n, if there’s even the tiniest chance..”

“Of what, Tom? Of going right back to being married? Of you making me happy? I don’t know, Tom! I don’t know anything except that I hate you right now.” You sobbed, crying into your knees while Tom let out quiet sobs of his own, his heart clenching at the lack of wedding band on your left hand and the lack of love in your voice, but especially your eyes. Your eyes, which once held so much love and adoration for him were now full of anger and resentment.

“Of..anything, y/n. Please, I just want a second chance to show you how much you mean to me, to make you happy again. I will do anything to save us, anything you want. And...and if it’s not working or you just really hate me, I wouldn’t blame you. Not at all.” He begged, his eyes puffy and red.

“I tried to save us, Tom. Don’t you remember? I begged and pleaded with you to do couples therapy to go on dates when you were breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces. I begged you to try and fight for us, for our marriage, but you just walked out the god damn door!” You spit through gritted teeth.

“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so badly.” He cried, wiping his tears away.

“And if leaving me wasn’t enough, you took Tessa too! I was left completely alone in that big fucking house that was haunted by you. I couldn’t stand it.” You sobbed.

“I’m..I’m sorry, y/n. So so fucking sorry. What do you want me to do?”

“I want...I want you to hurt. I want you to hurt the way you hurt me. I want you to know how this fucking feels.” You said, your voice getting louder with each word that fell from your lips.

Tom could only cry. This was ripping him apart, he couldn’t even imagine what the whole thing felt like to you.

“I’m gonna need time to think, Tom.” You finally mumbled, Tom nodding in response.

“I’ll give you all the time you need. I promise you-”

“Don’t. Don’t promise me anything.” You spoke, your voice low. “You won’t be able to keep it. You promised you’d love me forever four years ago and look what happened.”

“y/n pl-”

“You don’t get to do this. You-you don’t get to just waltz right back in here and ask for a second chance to fight for us when I didn’t even get a first chance. How do I know this won’t end like it did before?”

“y/n, I swear to you, if this isn’t working out, you can leave me. I...I just want a chance to prove myself to you.” He begged.

“God, Tom. You don’t get it! I’m not going through this again. Do you realize how much you broke me the first time? Fuck, you had a chance, Tom. And you threw it away.” You muttered quietly.

“I regret that every day. Every god damn day.” He told you honestly.

“I don’t know, Tom.” You sighed.

“Talk to me?” He tried, knowing you were hiding something deeper than an ‘I don’t know.’

“Don’t know what else there is to say.” You mumbled. “I don’t trust you, I-I can’t trust you. I hate you.”

“Why’d you get a hotel room?” Tom sniffled, changing the subject.

“I told you. I hated being in that house. Hated being surrounded by the happy pictures and memories of us.” You told him honestly. “I want to start over.”

“What?”

“I want to start over. I can’t go back to being emotionally married to you even if we’ll still be married legally. I’m talking starting from scratch, as if we were meeting for the first time, the whole deal.” You told him.

“That sounds perfect, y/n. Thank y-”

“Get out, Tom. Please. I just want to be alone and not with you right now. I’m still not happy with you.”

“Okay.” He breathed out, hope filling him once again. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“What did I just say about promises?” You asked tearily.

“I know, I know. I’m determined to keep this promise, though.” He told you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please leave for now.” You whimpered, watching as he walked out the door, just like he did when he broke your heart.

You decided you needed another self care night. Another bath was run, another vanilla scented bath bomb was used, more wine was consumed.

Tom texted you right as you got out of the bath.

Tom: hey y/n, it’s tom, just incase you don’t have my number saved anymore. I just wanted to say thank you for the second chance. I really am grateful. I hope you have a relaxing night, you deserve it.

You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone gently on your bed, though you could feel your heart rate pick up and butterflies fill your stomach.

Tom began texting you sweet little things each morning, whether it was to let you know that he’s been thinking of you or to tell you that he hopes you have a great day. At first you ignored them, but then you began responding in short answers of one or two words until the two of you were texting every day, like when you met for the first time seven years ago.

Over a month after you started texting again, Tom took you on a first date. Pulling up to your hotel, Tom felt the nerves fill his body as he walked up to your door and knocked, another bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

He felt all the air leave his lungs as you opened the door. You looked absolute stunning. You were wearing a navy blue dress that reached down to just above your knees, one Tom bought you one year.

“Wow, hi.” He breathed. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, accepting the flowers he handed you. “I’ll be right back.”

Tom took you to your favorite restaurant that night, one that the two of you frequented when you (formerly) went on dates.

When he took you back to your hotel, he walked you up to the door, where he nervously asked if he could kiss you.

You said yes, and that was all Tom needed to press a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss was magical, both of you felt the sparks between the two of you.

“God I missed doing that.” Tom mumbled as he pulled away to breathe.

“Then do it again.”

A couple months after that, Tom moved back in with you. You had gone back to the house every now and then, to slowly acclimate yourself to being back in the once happy house, only fully moving back when Tom moved back as well. The pictures of the two of you were dusted off, making your heart race instead of hurt at the sight of the happy memories.

Finally, after a year, Tom proposed to you (again). You hesitated a little bit, still scared it would end in heartbreak again, which broke Tom’s heart, but said you yes in the end.

The two of you renewed your vows, putting on the golden bands that were once again a symbol of the love the two of you shared.

You had a small party back at your house after the ceremony, your families joining to celebrate. You found Tom alone in the kitchen, grabbing a beer for him and Harry.

“Hey.” You greeted, fiddling with your fingers as tears of happiness filled your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, my love?” Tom asked, concerned as soon he saw the tears filling your eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. I, um,” You started, wiping your tears away and wrapping your arms around Tom’s neck. “I’m really glad we made it back to this.”

“Me too, lovey. I love you so much.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“You kept your promise.” You smiled softly, making Tom’s heart ache at the memory of you not being able to trust him.

“I told you I would.”

Your moment was interrupted by Harrison, who entered the kitchen, smiling at his two best friends happily in love once again.

“Aren’t you so glad I told him where you were staying?” He joked, making you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Harrison.” You smiled. As your eyes flickered between Tom and Harrison, though, you knew you wouldn’t have been in this position if Harrison didn’t spill the beans to Tom.

“Hey Haz?” You called, as Harrison went to leave the kitchen in fake offense. He turned at the sound of his name, knowing what was coming.

“Thank you.” Tom nodded in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist.

Harrison just smiled even bigger, all three of you knowing everything would be okay from now on.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x female!reader

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader Fanfic

-Pairings: mob! Tom Holland x reader

-Warnings: Language

-Words: 3.9K

Background Info- Tom Holland is boss of his mafia and Y/N Holland, his wife, is former mafia boss turned stay at home mom but still joined Tom on his business trips and meetings. They started dating at 19 and were married at the young age of 21, realizing they only needed each other. They have two kids together, both ages 16, Parker and Rosie Holland.

*Realistically to have two teenagers, Tom and Y/N are both in their mid/late thirties but they look like they are in their mid twenties/late twenties alright. What can I say, they have really good genes. I can guarantee that Tom will still definitely look as gorgeous as he does know in his 30’s.

Author note: I enjoy writing drama, so it’s hard to have constant fluff, mostly angst (I hope, at least what I consider angst). The more times where a character almost dies but doesn’t the better to me. This is my first fanfic, I wrote this story based on being married with kids because that is the part of my life I’m most looking forward to. Heads up but there is tons of dialogue, I find that the most fun to write.

Also I enjoy PDA and a personal goal of mine is to be married for 20 years and still want to jump my husband’s bones so there are a bunch of little hints like that through the fanfic. Sorry if your name is any of the characters, feel free to change them in your mind. I know it’s stupid of me to say that but whatever.

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Words: 3.9K

You and Tom were a power couple. The Hollands, the ones with the most power and the most dangerous. A king and queen to their empire. Lately you had been tackling married life together and had been raising two kids. A boy named Parker and a girl named Rosie both the same age. But nothing could prepare you for what every parent dreads, their teenage years. All the hormones, mood swings and relationship drama that comes with it.

When both the twins turned 16 it was big turning point in your family. Rights of passage as Tom would say. You and Tom threw a massive gala to celebrate their 16 years of being alive. Tom as the leader of his own mob, money was no object and you coming from the family you did and being a former mafia boss, you both had truly opulent wealth. It was the night of their kids’ sixteenth birthday and everyone was invited from family, friends, business associates and even enemies. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer they would say. Tom and tried to keep as much as possible from your kids, trying to give them a normal childhood. Failing over and over again at that. Some nights Tom would come home bloody from beating up someone who crossed him. Or there would always been strange, bulky, built men surrounding your mansion for protection. It was hard to explain everything to the kids, but it was something they just had to do for family.

The party was about to begin, 7:00 on the dot, and the house was decorated to fit a very elegant yet youthful look. Caterers dressed in white carrying bountiful trays of appetizers. Tom and you adored the luxury of their life, even though they knew if they didn’t have all the materials they did they would be even happier. Their family is what mattered most to them. You were dressed to the nines, in a lace gold gown, with sparkly stilettos on. Her Y/H/C hair gracefully laying one her back, without a strand out of the place. And her Y/E/C eyes were beaming, if looks could kill they would. Tom couldn’t help but admire you.

“You know, it’s rude to gawk,” you said and Tom chuckled.

“I’m sorry but you’re just too beautiful not to,” he responded and placing his hands on your hips.

Rolling your eyes and smirking you said “tonight’s the night.”

“I know, should we do it now?” he questioned as his half smile turned into a frown.

“No, let him have this one more night. Without any obligation,” you had been dreading this night for years.

“Alright, darling,” he said as he kissed softly, he just couldn’t contain himself he

found his other half. The person that makes him want to be a better man. His soulmate.

Like any family there are skeletons in their closets but, the Hollands were a whole another story. Tonight was the night, one they had been dreading for 16 years, to be exact. You and Tom’s son, Parker would be tasked with the most difficult decision of his life. One that will rewrite his story. Tom wishes he would just turn it down and do what he didn’t have the balls to do when he was his age.

The day Tom’s dad brought him into the office, he knew his life would never be the same. Dom, his father and former boss of the Holland empire, made it very clear that if he turned him down, he could forget about being in this family. Tom just knows he won’t give the same ultimatum. Parker being the oldest and only son of Tom and Y/N Holland is the future of their family empire. Parker was quite popular, a playboy actually and very dashing. Wearing a black suit with a black tie and a white shirt he look just like his dad with his brown hair slicked back. Being one of the guests of honor tonight he had to look the part. Slowly made his way to the bar before his mother could find him. Desperately needing some liquid courage, he quickly poured himself a shot of vodka and downed it even faster. However nothing gets past, you, Y/N Holland.

“Parker Jackson Holland!” you fumed, catching her 16 year old son drinking.

“Hey, what’s with the middle naming me, it’s my birthday,” he responded a little startled.

“You should not be drinking, ever. You got two years, mister,” you explained.

“Alright, mum,” Parker sounded annoyed.

“Where’s your sister by the way, party is supposed to start in 10 mins,” you said as she noticed all the guest starting to arrive. A line of people already waiting at the door but everyone knew the Hollands preferred people to arrive fashionably late.

“I don’t know. Having a fit probably. Last I heard was screaming coming from her closet.”

“I’ll go check on her. Your father and I need you sober later. Understood?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, mum.” Parker was a good boy on paper but, enjoyed breaking the rules.

Right as you turned away, Parker then started to pour another shot.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said still walking forward. Parker chuckled and set the shot down.

You went to go check on her daughter. You knocked on the door when she heard something shatter. Rosie may seem timid but she definitely inherited Tom’s anger issues.

“Honey? Is everything alright?” You questioned, startled by the outburst.

“Yeah, mum. I’m sorry,” Rosie muttered seeming frustrated.

“It’s ok, oh honey!” You exclaimed, noticing the tears on her daughter face

“I know, this is stupid,” Rosie whispered trying to hide her tear stained face.

“No, no it isn’t. What’s wrong?” you said, genuinely concerned for her daughter’s well-being.

“I don’t know everything, this dress, my hair, my makeup,” she exclaimed frantically.

“Baby, you look beautiful.”

“Pretty enough that someone would want to dance with me?” Rosie whispered. You were caught off guard that your daughter could ever have thoughts like that.

“Yes of course, you are always gorgeous.” You hated seeing your baby girl beat herself up based on her looks.

“Thanks mom, I have a question?” You just nodded in response.

How did you get dad to fall in love with you?” Rosie asked inquisitively.

“Um, I guess was just myself. I didn’t put on a facade and I was very honest and transparent with him,” you answered a little taken back from the question.

“You were yourself? I find that hard to believe. From stories I’ve heard you seemed to be bold, brave and beguiling” said Rosie with a hint of sarcasm.

“Am I not those things now?” You asked, cheekily.

“No you are, just in a different way.”

“Honey, whoever you are trying impress, will love for who you are, ok?” You couldn’t stand seeing her daughter like this.

“Alright. Can you help me with my makeup?” Rosie asked because her previous makeup had been ruined by her miniature breakdown

“Yes, of course.”

Back at the party Tom was making his way around saying hello to almost everyone. He desperately needed to find his son. Tom’s and Parker’s relationship was interesting to say the least. As babies and toddlers Tom was there. He loved his kids so much but as they grew older they only noticed the times he wasn’t there. Only the missed recitals and football games, never all times that had dinner as a family and he tucked them in to bed at night. Parker is closer to his mother and his twin sister. Never really having that man to man talk with his dad yet. The time when fathers stop seeing their sons as boys and look at them as men. Tom approached Parker sitting there with his a drink in his hand, he hoped was a watered down Pepsi.

“Hey Parker, did your mom talk to you already?” Tom asked, not trying to raise too many questions.

“No, she might have mentioned something,” Parker responded.

“Ok, well after cake meet me in my office.” Parker nodded in response and noticed how he tensed a little at the conversation.

Their chat quickly ended when Harrison and his 16 year old son Henry came to wish happy birthday. Harrison is Tom’s right hand man, his consigliere and his best friend. He was more than that, Harrison was family. Harrison’s son, Henry was best friends with Parker and Rosie, ever since birth.

“Hey mate,” Tom said to his best friend Harrison.

“Hey, just came to wish this guy “happy birthday”” he said patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Happy birthday, dude” Henry said to Parker and he returned with subtle “thank you’s.” Parker slightly nodded to his dad to see if he could leave the conversation and Tom let him know it was ok.

“Come on, let’s go,” Parker exclaimed making his way to den where his other friends were.

Harrison was the first to speak up, “Have you told him yet?”

“No, Y/N and I are going to do it tonight” Tom uttered with a low toned voice.

“Geez, do you need me there?” Harrison asked, afraid Tom might say yes. Harrison was there when Tom went through the same process with his dad. Tom’s anger issues didn’t help the outcome.

“I think I’m alright, just family. Not that I don’t consider you family but I don’t even know if Rosie should be there.” Tom justified.

“It’s alright mate, I get it.”

They were both enjoying their night, making their rounds, Tom and Harrison went to get drinks, not beer this time but a scotch on the rocks as this was a classy night. Everything was dandy up until one of Tom’s men, William, came up to him informing Tom of a problem.

“Sir we have a problem,” William whispered to Tom, Tom nodded for them to follow them to his office.

“William, what now? Can’t you see I’m enjoying the party?” Tom exclaimed, closing the doors to his office.

“Sir, Daniel, was found dead at his post outside, shot by a tranquilizer gun, with a note taped to his chest, it’s for you.” William announced and handed the paper to the most important and dangerous man of the mob, his boss.

“What the fuck?” A long silence stayed in the air while Tom processed the news. Awkwardness had filled the entire room as they all awaited Tom’s response.

“For fucks sake, you need at least 3 guards posted outside. NOW!” He screamed as his anger continued to rise as read the note.

“Yes, Sir.” William said promptly.

“God forbid anything else happen tonight, but my wife and kids are the first ones to be escorted to safe house. Understood?” Tom explained as he only was only thinking about his family in that moment.

“Yes, Sir.” William said and quickly ran out before he could get the brunt of Tom’s upcoming outburst. Right on cue, Tom threw a glass ashtray at the wall, it shattering into shards.

“Calm down mate, what did the note even say.” Harrison asked with a worrisome look on his face. Tom showed Harrison the joy and his smile faded immediately. Tom for the first time, in a while, felt fear because he knew he had everything to lose.

Not wanting to deal with the life long headache that is his life. He looked for solace in, you, his wife as he spotted her over by the fireplace and made his way over to you.

“Have told you look stunning tonight?” He said instantly falling in love with you over again.

“Several times actually,” you said.

“Well I can’t help what you do to me, gorgeous.” He said placing a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, have you had the talk with him yet?” You said pointing a finger at your son getting very intimate with some girl.

The girl was Charlotte Owens. Parker and her had been together for almost a year, but you and Tom hadn’t met her formally yet. Your son was very tight-lipped the it came to his private life. She was tall, fair and had platinum blonde hair along with piercing blue eyes. Rosie didn’t seem to like her very much, constantly annoyed by her popularity status and reputation, used to be known for being with a new guy every couple weeks and don’t put it past Rosie to not give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No, remember we’re going to do it tonight. Is something wrong?” He said with concern, worried why you would forget something so important.

“No, not that talk, silly, “The talk”,” you responded. His lips formed an “o” shaped as he realized he would have to teach his son about how to be safe during sex.

“Oh, no. I’ve been avoiding it for as long as possible.”

“Why baby, you’re so good at it. You could give him a few a pointers.” You said, winking at him.

“Wow, love, you surprise me everyday. Speaking of beautiful girls, where’s Rosie. I’ve haven’t seen her all night,” Tom quickly trying to change the subject as they were at a party.

“I saw her a few minutes ago,” you said as a puzzled look grew on her face.

“Come on, let’s go find her and maybe you and I can sneak off for awhile.” He said cheekily.

“Tommy,” you whispered but eventually agreed. Slowly making your way out of the main ballroom to the secret garden next to his office.

Walking very slyly, you both made your way to secret spot near Tom’s office. Where ivy had grown throughout the brick and purple and yellow tulips lined the fence along with giant trees. There was a little wishing fountain that Tom had installed when you moved in, this was their secret spot. One where they could forget about all the violence and responsibility that tainted their lives.

Their intimate moment was ruined when Rosie walked by with some random guy named Connor, not the person she’d hope to bring there. All throughout the night Rosie seemed to be jealous of the attention her crush was getting at the party as he didn’t pay attention to her. Thus, she went find a distraction of her own.

“Oh hey, shh, look two people getting it on over there,” he whispered to her as she dragged him outside.

“Please don’t be my brother.” She murmured but felt like she wanted to throw up when she saw who it was.

“Mom, dad?” Rosie screamed.

“Oh shit, we’ve been busted,” Tom muttered against your neck.

“Hey honey,” You said while Rosie was completely mortified. Rosie’s potential hookup stood there mouth wide open.

“That’s your mum, god, she’s a babe.” Connor said.

“Connor, not helping.” Rosie exclaimed sternly as she pinched his side.

Tom spoke up, “Why don’t you guys go back and enjoy the rest of the party.”

Rosie just nodded and left as fast as humanly possible. She never wants to be that embarrassed again.

“Oh my god, we were gonna get it later.” You said.

“I know, we really screwed up this time. But have you had “the talk” with her yet,” Tom asked.

“Nope, we should both really get on that. What would I’ve happened if they hadn’t caught us?” You asked jokingly.

“I don’t want to think about that Y/N! She’s our daughter.” Tom exclaimed.

“Neither do I.”

“Enough of this, where were we?” Tom interjected immediately changing the subject.

“Well you lips were on my neck and you hand was on my waist, but I think the moment has passed and we should get back to the party,” you said rather seductively.

“Fine, I know you’re right. But fuck, I just want to make out with my wife,” Tom muttered frustratingly.

“Well you can later... in bed.” Winking as you chuckled.

“Man, that kid was right, you are a babe.”he said as he slapped your ass as you walked in front of him chuckling.

“Is it time for cake?” Harrison asks as he came up to Tom and you.

“I think it is.” Tom said and you nodded. Walking towards Rosie, who was desperately trying to erase her self from existence because of the embarrassment she’d experienced a minute ago.

“Hi, honey. Can you please go find your brother? We are going to cut the cake.” You said trying not to accidentally bring up the elephant in the room.

“Alright, fine,” Rosie muttered still a little peeved finding you and Tom like that. Rosie searched high and low for Parker.

Needing some assistance she asked Henry. “Hey, have you seen my brother?”

“Last I saw he was taking Charlotte to the green house” Henry responded.

“Alright, come on, let’s go find them” Rosie said rolling her eyes. Her hand slipped into Henry’s as she led the way. Making their way through the vast yet gorgeous yard. Rosie and Henry found Parker and Charlottes lips entangled together and bodies in a compromising position in the green house

“For fucks sake, how many people am I going to find sucking face at this party.” Rosie yelled, startling Charlotte and Parker.

“What the fuck do you want, Rosie? Can’t you see I’m busy.” Parker quipped annoyingly.

“Mom and dad want to cut the cake” Rosie responded.

“Ugh fine. Give us 10 mins” knowing he will be finished in that time.

“No, you can fuck your bimbo of a girlfriend later.” Rosie said, receiving a grimace from Charlotte.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! Fuck off!” Parker yelled as Henry and Rosie left. Both of the kids had inherited Tom’s angry side.

“Well, you can explain to mom and dad you were late because you were balls deep in in your whore,” Rosie said walking away.

The moments leading up to the end of Parker’s innocence were fleeting. In more ways than one. He wasn’t a virgin even before that evening but, Parker could imagine the task he was supposed to accomplish. The 3 tier chocolate raspberry ganache cake had been cut and distributed to the guests. Happy birthday had been sung to Rosie and Parker. Parker tried to go off with Charlotte again, but Harrison stopped him and brought him to the Tom’s office.

“They’re in there,” Harrison whispered.

“Who?” Parker asked Harrison who was like his uncle.

“Just go,” Parker opened the door to see his mother and his dad sat behind the desk. The door shut behind him.

“Mom? Dad? What’s going on here?” Parker hesitated.

“Son, sit down,” Tom said, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy.

“We have to talk to you.” You interjected.

“Parker, as part of this family, there are certain responsibilities you have to take. It is a tradition in our family that at the age of 16, the sons are brought to light about the dealings of our family and what is expected of you,” Tom said as Parker grew wary. Not really understanding what his parents were trying to convey.

Throughout his entire life, he had his suspicions about his family. Wondering why men followed them everywhere, even on trips to the store for eggs. Why his parents went to work but have never seen their office, only heard it referred to as “the warehouse.” Why everything was always so damm secretive. Scared if he accidentally let some enormous family secret slip with his big mouth there would be repercussions. Never not scared of the harm that could come to his family.

“Your father, is the leader of a very powerful mob. I am part of it too, not just as wife but as his partner. There will be day when he will longer be in position of boss and you will take over,” you asserted playing off of Tom’s words.

“Our family is not only the owners of one of the world’s richest exporting company, we also do business with casinos and own multiple hotel chains. Sometimes our work brings us above the law, but the connections we have are what keep us alive.” Tom explained trying to preserve his son’s innocence.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Parker stuttered.

“Because it is time. Time for you to step up and take your place in this family. You’ve had 16 years of juvenile fun and now this is what has to be done.” Tom concluded.

“What if I don’t want this life. You don’t think I don’t know what happens behind closed doors here. All the times dad has come home with a black eye or blood on his knuckles. Why fuck isn’t Rosie here? She is the same age as me, WE ARE TWINS! Why am I the only one who has to do this. I don’t want to kill for sport like you and mom!” Parker screamed. He couldn’t handle this anymore. There was too much information he had to process.

“Do not raise your voice at your mother! Tom screamed.

“Dad, I had dreams and hopes. I wanted to go to college and travel. Find a nice girl and marry her. Experience the kind of love you and mom have. What you are asking me to do, flushes all that away. You are asking me to give up on my life.

So that’s it, I don’t have a choice,” Parker begged.

“Baby, you have a choice. Nothing is set in stone,” you said rubbing his arm.

“Y/N, you damm well know what will happen if he turns this down,” Tom yelled.

“Maybe this life works for you two, but I don’t want this kind of life. My answer is no. Find someone else.”

“Parker, you know I can’t do that. Take a couple days and think about it” Tom answered trying to stay calm.

“NO DAD! My answer is final, I’m not going to be your apprentice to carry on this heinous family legacy!” Parker exploded. It was too much.

“If you aren’t willing to do what is asked of you, then you can forget about being in this family!” Tom screamed. He did exactly what he said he wouldn’t, he gave his son an ultimatum. Parker couldn’t handle it anymore and left. Needing to forget about the fact he no longer had a say. He was stuck.

It was just Tom and you sitting in the study. They couldn’t understand where the conversation had gone. All their hopes for tonight went out the window along with potted plant Tom threw when Parker stormed out.

“Tom, you can’t force him. You can’t do what your father did to you to him.” You tried to say in a loving tone but it came out as stern.

“IM NOT, Y/N!!!” Tom screamed. He had fucked up. The words spoken tonight have rewritten his relationship with his son.

“Alright.” You whispered trying to calm your fuming husband down.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice, baby.” Tom’s tone immediately changed once he heard the softness of your voice. You just nodded in response

“Tommy?” You asked hoping Tom was now ok.

“Yes, love” Tom said.

“He’ll come around. I can promise you that.”

“I know, darling. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” a look of confusion grew on your face.

He handed you a paper, the same one that was found on Daniel’s body, saying “Eclipsing of the Hollands. Let the show begin. Better watch your back.”

It was threat. A play to eventually be made on his life or the life of his family and you all had no idea who was behind it.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Dad!Mob!Tom Holland #Mob!Tom #mobster #Mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x reader

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let-me-luve-you · 4 years

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Overlooked and Overworked

Tom Holland x Sister

Summary: Being Tom Holland’s little sister was great growing up, but after his success she’s a little left behind. Y/N Holland is willing to do whatever for her family because she loves them.

Warnings: Angst, fluff ending, rude Tom, overworked, sleep deprived

A/N: I don’t think Tom or any of the members of the Holland’s would allow this to happen to any member of their family or friends, I just had this idea and wrote it. Also I wrote this back in like January and just now got the guts to post it!

MASTERLIST BUY ME A COFFEE

The past couple of years for you have been an emotional roller coaster. You’ve been so excited and happy to see your brother succeed in his career. It’s always fun to see him on the big screen as someone else. But it’s also been tiring and sad because you feel left out. You don’t get to go to set often, you don’t get to travel with him, and you aren’t a part of his charity. The Brothers Trust is just him and your 3 other brothers. Given you help out way more than all of the brothers. Since you went to school for business, you help your mum and dad with both of their businesses and then run The Brothers Trust.

Tom is the oldest, then it’s you, the twins, and then Paddy. You’re only a year and a half younger than Tom. You were very close growing up, but once he started doing movies, you slowly grew apart. Him and the twins then grew closer. You loved him dearly but it just wasn’t the same since you never felt included. He took Harry to sets with him and on press tours. Sam would join along when he wasn’t working at the restaurant. Paddy would join during school breaks. But every time you would try to join him, he would say no. That he was too busy or too tired. You didn’t want to fight him but you were always crushed.

When he got the role of Spiderman, he decided then he wanted to move out into his own apartment. You offered to help him find a place since you had been looking for yourself. You offered to share a place and split rent but he said he wanted to be completely on his own. But shortly after he moved into his new 4 bedroom apartment, he had Harrison, Tuwaine, Sam, and Harry move in.

“The twins are moving in with Tom. Can you help pack and move them this weekend?” Your dad asked.

“What? They’re moving in with Tom? I thought he wanted his own space?” You asked him.

“He said he wanted to be around people because it was too lonely and quiet. Did you ever find a place? If so, you may want roommates too.”

“No I realized I can’t afford a place in a nice area to live alone. All my mates have moved off to continue their education or they have jobs else where.” You said sadly.

“Tom should of asked you then. I’m sorry y/n/n.”

“It’s fine. He hangs out with all four of them all the time. I would of just been in the way.” You said as you got up and left the room.

It’s been a couple of years and you still can’t afford to get your own place. Between helping run three businesses, you don’t have time to get a part time job. You pay your parents for rent and help pay bills so you are doing adult things. Plus it helps your parents financially. It’s busy season since your mum is picking up gigs for photoshoots, your dad is on tour for standup and his new book, plus you are planning a movie event through the trust as well as trying to get all the merch bagged and shipped. You have been working 14-15 hour days for the past 3 weeks without a day off. You are feeling the tiredness mentally and physically.

Tom has time off from the movie he is filming now. They gave him a month off for the holidays. Him and Harry have been home but all they have done is hung out with friends and go to the pub. You have been holed up in your office/bedroom for 3 days straight. Only to go out to the bathroom and kitchen to grab food.

“Where has y/n been? I haven’t seen much of her since we got home.” Harry asks Tom.

“She might be finalizing the Spies in Disguise event and getting things ready.” Tom responded.

“Oh good. Y/n is great at getting a head start on things so I’m guessing she’s done with all the prep and souvenirs.” Harry smiled. Tom laughed in response.

On Christmas Day, you only came out of your room for breakfast and lunch and then went back in your room to work. No one noticed the bags under your eyes that you tried to hide with makeup. No one noticed you almost falling asleep at the table. No one thought twice about why you spent most of Christmas alone in your room. But you were behind. You still had a lot of orders to fulfill and send out. You still had get all of the souvenirs together for the event that was in two days. You still had to finish sending out your dads orders for his book as well as finalize his January travel plans and stand up dates. Your mum had booked 12 more shoots and you had to finalize times and dates. And everything was supposed to be done in the next week. You finally caved and decided to ask Tom for help since it was his event after all.

“Hey Tom can I have you help me out for a little bit?” You asked him Christmas evening.

“Do you need me tonight?” He asked.

“If you can that would be great.”

“Sorry y/n/n. I can’t. I’m meeting to boys at the apartment.”

“Well maybe they can help too.” You sounded hopeful to get more help to lighten your load.

“No can do. We have drinks and plans.”

“Well then can you come tomorrow morning or early afternoon?”

“Can’t. I have a meeting with my manager to discuss everything that’s coming up and then all of us at the apartment and Paddy are going into the city. Maybe I can help you after the event?”

“No it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” You said sadly as you turned to go back to your room.

“What about Paddy? Or mum or dad?” He asked.

“Paddy has football that mum is taking him to before she does a shoot tomorrow. Dad is working on some other stuff for his January shows.”

“Sam or Harry?”

“Well both will be with you tonight and tomorrow.”

“What about in the morning?”

“Sam has to work remember. And I think Harry is meeting with some mates to catch up with them or something along those lines. It’s fine. I’ve got it handled. Have fun tonight and tomorrow. Be safe. Love you.” You turned and almost ran back to your room. You wanted to break down in tears from being overwhelmed and for not being included in any of Tom’s plans of hanging out and catching up. You’ve barely seen Tom in the past year. Only when he’s in London. You shook the thoughts of your brother out of your head and pulled out a sheet of paper. You wrote down everything that needed to be done. Then on your white board, wrote them down in most important the least important.

First up was getting all of the brothers trust bags done. You went to the storage closest and pulled out everything you would need and set the boxes on your bed. Then you went and grabbed a tote to put the finished product in. It took you until 4 am, but you finally finished putting them together. You went into the kitchen and made you some tea. You went back in your room and marked the brothers trust goody bags off of your list. Next you started finalizing plans for your mum. That just involved organizing times and dates. You finished that around 1030 am. You marked that off the list as well.

Before you emailed all of the clients their dates and times, you went to the kitchen to grab and snack and drink. Your mum was in the kitchen.

“Morning love.” She smiled at you.

“Morning.” You said back waiting on your tea.

“So I’m going to drop Paddy off at football in 20 minutes and then Tom will pick him up to go into the city. I have to go to my shoot. Do you have the invoice I can give them?”

“I do.” You rushed to your room and grabbed it from a folder then went back and handed it to her. “Everything is on there. The deposit has been paid and it shows that as well as the price for the shoot and the editing. It also gives the timeline of when they will get the pictures.”

“Great. This is wonderful. Thank you. Also the theater called and said we can set it up today at 3 pm. Are you okay to handle that on your own?”

You sighed but answered, “yes I can handle it. I finished the bags last night. I just need to print off the papers to put on the seats as well. Plus get the itinerary finished which I will have by tonight so Tom knows what’s going on.”

“That’s great. I’ll be there to take photos as well as Harry but the boys will all be busy with fans and making sure they all feel special.”

“Sounds good. Have fun on your shoot.”

Your mum smiled as her and paddy left the house. You went back into your room and emailed everyone for your mum. Then you printed the brothers trust sheets that said what the event was supporting and how we were thankful for their donations. As those were printing you forgot you had to pick up an order of pictures so Tom could sign them for the guest coming to the screening. You looked up and saw that it was 130 and if you were going to be on time you needed to leave in the next 15 minutes.

After you loaded the goody bags into your car, you drove the 20 minutes to the print shop to pick up the pictures. You then went to the theater and set everything out. It took 45 minutes to lay everything out and make sure it was perfect. You then snagged some photos for Instagram and posted them. By the time you got home it was just shy of 5. You went straight to your room to finalize the itinerary. At 8 pm your mum knocked on the door.

“Hey baby. I’m back. How did everything go setting up wise?”

“It was good. Took longer than expected but wasn’t too bad for being the only one there. Also here is the itinerary for you and dad. I also have one for each of the boys.”

“Wow. This is detailed perfectly.”

“It kind of had to be since Tom has an event to go to tomorrow night and he can’t be late. I figured the more detailed, the less things can go wrong.”

“Fair point. Love I’m not sure if the boys notice the work you put in, but I do. Have you slept yet?”

You looked at her shocked, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that I can tell you are exhausted. I woke up at 2 am last night and heard you in here and saw your light was still on.” She paused and looked at your long list on the white board. “And by the looks of it, you have a long to do list. Do you need help? After we get through the event I can help. I don’t have a shoot for a couple of days.”

“I appreciate mum, but this list needs to be done by then. And everything you can help me with will be done already. But thank you.”

“Did you ask your brothers to help? I mean this is there thing. They should be helping you. Not leaving it to you to do yourself.”

“I asked Tom to help so I could have him do the goody bags for tomorrow but he had a guys night with Sam and Harry and them last night. Then they were all busy this morning and then went into the city. But it’s fine. I did the bags last night. That’s what you heard when you woke up.”

“I’m sorry baby. I’m going to have a talk with him. Have you had a break to just hangout with Tom. I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him.”

“No he’s always in a meeting or with the boys. But if Tom wanted to see me, he’d make time but when I try, he can’t. But with all this work, I haven’t really done much outside of this room in a while so it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You both used to be so close. Almost like you were twins. Weirdly enough closer than the twins have ever been. I hope you two can work whatever this is out.”

“Me too mum. Me too.” You looked at her as she slowly walked out.

After your mum left the room, you got back to work finalizing your dads stuff. Thankfully it was only 12 am when you finished. Deciding to pack all of the orders so you can drop them off to be shipped in the morning, you went and grabbed everything you would need from the storage closet and got to work. You stayed up all night working. You finally finished all the orders at 9 am. When you realized the time you rushed to get dressed and cleaned up as best you could. By 10 am you were out the door to go to the post office to ship the orders and then you were off to the theater to make sure everything was set. By 1pm the rest of your family showed up. And by 2 the theater was full of people who were excited to see the brothers and the movie.

People knew who you were. Everyone knew Tom had a sister. But you did great staying out of the eye of people. None of your brothers posted much about you on social. Your dad mainly posted about Tom and the brothers golf adventures. Your mum would occasionally when she made you model when she was trying something new. So when people arrived, they walk past you and straight to the four brothers who were ready to greet everyone.

When the event started, you weren’t really needed so you went to a back room they had set up for your brothers to relax away from people and sat on the couch. Not sleeping since Christmas Eve was starting to catch up with you but some how you forced yourself to stay awake.

“Y/n we have a problem.” Your youngest brother said as he came in the room. “The movie hasn’t started yet and it was supposed to 15 minutes ago.”

“Okay I’ll go see what’s going on.” You went to the manager of the theater and she explained to you how the light in the projector went out and it was going to be another 20 minutes before it started. She apologized multiple times.

“Hey Tom. Can you do a q&a for 20 minutes or so?”

“No the movie is supposed to be on.”

“They are having technical difficulties and it’s going to take 20 minutes to fix it.”

Tom got annoyed because he knew this was pushing the entire timeline back and it was now be pushing it for him to be on time for his event tonight. “Sure.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when we are good to go.”

After 30 minutes. The movie was finally ready to go. Every one was enjoying it and all four of your brothers moved around the theater so the kids felt like they were watching the movie with them personally. When it was over everyone was ushered into a lobby where there was a meet and greet with photos. By the time the boys were done with everyone, it was 20 minutes until Toms next event.

“Great. I’m going to be late. Thanks for that y/n. Why didn’t you have them check everything yesterday?”

“Because I didn’t think of it.”

“So stupid. How could you not think of it? It’s literally the first thing on the list of things to check when prepping the theater. Do your job better. Thats what you are paid to do. I’ll see you later.” Tom rolled his eyes and stormed off. You just stared feeling humiliated since the theater staff and your family had witnessed that. You were holding in your emotional breakdown until you could do it in private.

“Sorry guys. Y’all can go ahead and head out. I’ll clean this up and bring home whatever is ours.” Sam, Harry, and Paddy saw this as a get of jail free card and booked it out of the theater. Your dad came by and kissed you on the head and said I have to finish up some work and headed out. Your mum looked at you sadly.

“I’ll help you baby.”

“No it’s okay mum. Go edit the photos so we can get them sent out.” You smiled at her.

“It’s okay. I can do them later tonight.”

“Mum seriously. Go home. I got this. I’ll be home later. You kissed her on the cheek as you walked back in the theater. You thankfully left the tote yesterday which made it easier to put everything in. You put the tote in your car and headed back in the theater to sweep and clean up the mess. By the time you got home, it was 9 pm. You had been up for 61 hours straight. You were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep. But Tom was home and he was livid.

“What the hell?” He asked.

“What?” You asked back.

“You know I got yelled at by my manger for 30 minutes about how I was irresponsible and immature for being almost a hour late to the event tonight?”

“Why did you get yelled at? You were doing stuff for charity. He should get over it.”

“He was mad because SOMEONE told him I would be done with our event in plenty of time to go to this other one. And when I told him there was technical difficulties because that same SOMEONE didn’t do their job, he got even more mad.”

“I get that I probably should of checked but things happen Tom. Okay? Things I can’t control. Things the theater can’t control. I did this entire event by myself. Sorry for not checking but other than the delay the people loved it and we raised money which is okay because our charity now can help so many more.”

“You didn’t do this by yourself. We all help. And our charity? Our? You mean mine? Sams? Harry’s? Paddys? It’s our faces that make that charity. And when something goes wrong we are the ones that look bad. Not the person behind the scenes that only does some of the work.”

You looked at him like he was a stranger. What he said broke your heart. That’s what he really thought? You just shook your head lightly and walked to your room. You shut the door and locked it.

“Really Tom?” Your mum asked as her and your dad walked in during the argument.

“Yeah mum. We do all the work and she’s trying to take the credit. We’ve all noticed and it’s getting out of hand. You do more than she does.”

“Tom I’m extremely disappointed in you right now.” Your dad said.

“Tom she does all of the work. The planning, the scheduling, the packaging, social media, distributing the money, and figuring out all the ways we can make money to help those smaller charities.” Your mum added.

“She does?”

“Yes Tom. On top of helping me and your father with our businesses. We’ve seen you more than her this past month because she’s been so busy.” Your mum said.

“Wow.”

“Did you know she was up until 4 am on Christmas night so she could finish the goody bags before we had to prep the theater. That she had those pictures printed so you could sign them for the guest. That she made an itinerary so detailed that nothing could go wrong. Except she didn’t account for technical difficulties. She set up the theater and cleaned the theater all by herself. None of us helped her. We just showed up for the event.” Your mum said.

“Tom have you not noticed how exhausted she looks? It looks like she hasn’t slept in days. She’s trying her best to handle everything so we can have everything run smoothly for us. She even mentioned your event and how she needed to get you out of there so you wouldn’t be late. We’ve all been horrible to her by letting her do this by herself.” Your dad said.

“I... I didn’t know. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Tom got up and knocked on your door. He couldn’t hear anything so he tried opening it. He noticed it was locked and went to his old room and found the key you gave him years ago. When he unlocked it he noticed the mess around your room of boxes, plastic, mail bags for packages, and stacks of papers. He saw you on your bed and saw you were asleep. He went over and tucked you in. He went to your desk and saw the white board with everything marked off under the to do list. He then looked on your desk and saw how your mum and dads plans were finalized. He knew you mentioned everything when you asked him for help Christmas night and now you were done with it. Even all the orders were done and he saw the receipt from the post office proving the orders were shipped. He felt horrible knowing the only way that you got everything done was by staying up all night.

He turned and walked back to you and finally noticed the bags under your eyes. As well as tear stains that he knows he’s the cause for. It broke his heart knowing he was the cause. It also broke knowing that you asked for help so you wouldn’t fall in the deep end, but by saying he couldn’t help, he pushed you in and watched you drown without even realizing.

He gave you a kiss on the head and got up and quietly walked out.

“What time did y/n wake up on Christmas Day?”

“From what we know, maybe around 8 or 9.” Your dad said. Tom sat there quietly while doing the math in his head.

“61 hours.” He suddenly said.

“What?” Your mum said.

“61 hours. That’s how long she went without sleep. She asked me for help and told me why and I said no. She’s finished the list. She’s organized both of your stuff. She’s packed and shipped out all of the orders. She did everything for the event. She hasn’t slept. She’s asleep now but it was 61 hours. How could I let my sister do that? How did I not see it?” Tom asked his parents. They looked at him in shock.

“My poor baby” your mum said.

“We will talk to her tomorrow when she wakes up.” Your dad said.

“I want to be here when she wakes up so I can apologize. I’m going to go see her again.”

He got up and walked to your room. He quietly started cleaning up the mess left from packaging orders. He then laid on the other side of your bed thinking about how he messed up so bad. Shortly after he fell asleep too.

-——————

Around 7 am you woke up still exhausted but you needed a glass of water. When you went to throw the blanket off of you, you saw Tom asleep in your bed still in his clothes from the night before.

You were confused as to why he was in your bed, but you chose to ignore him. You stood up and went to the kitchen. Your mum was already cooking breakfast.

“Morning baby. How’d you sleep?” Your mum asked.

“Alright. I’m probably going to catch a few more hours. Just needed water.” You said. “By the way, do you know why Tom is in my bed?”

“He felt bad about how he has treated you lately.” She said. “He figured out you went 60 something hours without sleep.”

You looked at her shocked and sat down. She came over and gave you a hug.

“Why did you do that to yourself? Why didn’t you ask for help?” Your dad said as he joined both of you in the kitchen.

“You were working on new stuff. Mum had shoots and a house to run. I asked Tom and thought maybe him and the boys could help but they had plans. It needed to be done before the new year and definitely needed to be done before the event.”

“We appreciate you so much baby girl. I hope you know that. You do a lot for this family and this family isn’t great at giving back. We do love you.” Your mum said as she gave you a kiss on the head. “Now please go get some sleep. Sleep all day if you’d like and I can bring you food later.”

You smiled at her and walked back to your room. Tom still hadn’t moved. You sat your water on your bedside table and crawled back under the covers. You turned your back towards Tom. You were still really saddened by his words last night, that you didn’t want to face him yet.

“Y/n/n are you awake?” You heard Tom whisper.

“Go back to sleep or get out.” You said back not opening your eyes.

“I’m sorry y/n. What I said last night was wrong. I didn’t realize you do everything for our trust. I thought mum and dad did it all. I know you’ve been killing yourself to try and catch up then get ahead, but you can’t do that to yourself. You need proper rest. I’m going to make sure you never do the 61 hours straight again. I’d rather myself do it before I let you do it again.”

“Tom it’s okay. But seriously. Leave or go back to sleep.”

“No it’s not okay. I’ve royally fucked up. I’ve let us get so far apart we are almost strangers to one another. I have a charity that doesn’t even have your name on it and you do all the work. You make sure my fans are happy as well as making sure we help other small charities. You’re absolutely amazing and I’ve treated you like shit for the last few years. I don’t even give you the time of day. I promise you this, I will do better. We will be like we used to. Even if I have to kidnap you and take you with me different places. I love you and I don’t want to be the one hurting you anymore.”

You rolled over and looked at him with tears in your eyes. Your brother finally recognized you for you. He finally realized what he’s done.

“Thank you Tom. I love you too.”

He smiled at you and leaned over to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead.

“It really means a lot that you said that. But can I please go back to sleep. I’m still exhausted.” You said.

Tom pulled you to him so your head was on his chest and shoulder. And he cuddled you so you felt protected from all the horrible things that can go wrong for you.

“Get some sleep and when you wake up, me and you will hang out. Just the two of us.” Tom said. You smiled as you drifted back to sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland sister #brother!tom holland #holland!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x sister!reader #angst #fluff ending #the brothers trust #tom holland facfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #y/n holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #brother!tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland angst #holland!sister

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petersasteria · 3 years

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧? - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Pairing: Manservant!Haz Osterfield x CEO!Single mom!Reader

HO Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || Inspired by the Disney request from a while back

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either products or the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After being unsuccessful in getting acting jobs, Harrison looks for a job to pay his bills. You’re a spoiled rich kid who abruptly becomes the CEO of your family’s company after your parents decided to retire early.

Special thanks to @fancyxholland for the banner 🤍

2,323 words

“Haz, what’re you doing?” Tom, Harrison’s best friend asked him. Tom Holland has been best friends with Harrison since they were 15. Both of them were aspiring actors, but they’re both struggling to get the parts that they want. Eventually, Harrison decided to find a real job. Thus, looking through the ad section on the newspaper.

“I’m looking for a job.” He shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal, really. He just wants to help his mum in paying the bills and since his acting career is dormant, he figured it’d be best to pursue something realistic and something quick.

Tom looked at him dumbfounded. He was in shock. Tom never thought Harrison, his best mate, would actually look for a job. “Um.. why? You have an audition to prepare for.” Tom pointed out.

“So?” Harrison said, not looking up from the newspaper.

“So?” Tom mocked and rolled his eyes. “It means you have no time to look for a job. You have to run your lines, memorize them, and internalize. Maybe get into character like a method actor or something, I don’t know! So, you can’t look for a job.”

“Joke’s on you because I just found one!” Harrison smiled and took off the cap of the marker with his teeth. He encircled the ad for working at a restobar as a waiter. He covered the marker again and put it on the table. He stood up from his seat and quickly went to his room to prepare his resume.

Tom quickly followed him and asked, “Aren’t you going to tell me what job you’re planning to apply for?”

“A waiter.” Harrison said simply as he typed away on his laptop.

Tom raised his eyebrows and nodded, “Okay. Well, good luck.”

“You should find a job too, Tom. We’re 20 for fuck’s sake. We’ve been auditioning for roles since we were 15 and nothing seems to be happening. Let’s just get a job, mate.” Harrison sighed in defeat.

“Fine.” Tom said, crossing his arms. “But let me just get through this audition I have tomorrow and then I’ll look for a job straight after that. I’m starting to go broke anyway and I’ll honestly panic if butterflies come out of my wallet instead of money.”

“Same.” Harrison laughed.

Harrison got the job. The restobar was desperate for people, so Harrison convinced Tom to apply there too and Tom got in as well. Now, they’re both working there.

The restobar was always busy and the customers tipped generously. It was great for Harrison and Tom. The restobar was more packed in the evening and during the day, families would have lunch there. The food was delicious and the staff is very accommodating. The restobar only had two floors and at the back, was the outdoor area where people could eat and have a cigarette. It was also there that jamming sessions would happen every night. It was awesome.

It’s late in the afternoon and Harrison was wiping a table clean after clearing the dishes. Tom was currently sitting on the bar stool at the bar counter while watching the news. At this hour, the restobar was low on customers and that gave the whole staff time to relax a bit.

Tom rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes and blinked when he saw the news about you; Y/N Y/L/N. Tom read the headline and his eyes widened. He turned to Charles, the bartender, and said, “Hey mate, could you turn it up a bit? Thank you.”

Charles turned up the volume a little causing all of the staff to pay attention to the news. Harrison, who just finished cleaning the table, was carrying the plastic box they put the plates in when he joined in to watch the news. He stood next to where Tom was sitting as the reporter rambled about you being the newest CEO of Y/L/N Inc.

Tom snorted, “Was it just last week that Y/N was found blackout drunk somewhere?”

“Yeah.” Charles laughed. “One of my mates told me that they saw her smoking weed once.”

Harrison looked at the two of them and shook his head, “That’s not very CEO-like, innit?”

“Sounds like a spoiled rich kid to me.” Jessica, the hostess, said. “If you Google her name, you’ll find endless articles about her lavish vacations and she’s profligate.”

“What does profligate even mean?” Tom asked as he turned to Jessica.

“It means she’s extravagant; she spends her money a lot on useless things.” Chazia explained and Tom nodded, satisfied with the answer.

“She’s filthy rich, though. She recently bought a small house in the Hamptons as a birthday gift for herself.” Elouise chimed in as she scrolled through her phone after Googling Y/N.

“These rich people will never learn, I swear. They think stuff is just handed to them because they’re rich. They’re all the same.” Hritz shook her head in annoyance.

“She’d never marry a poor bloke that’s for sure.” Luke said with a chuckle. “What a shame, though. She’s hot.”

“True.” Charles nodded in agreement.

“I mean, we shouldn’t judge her. What Elouise is seeing on Google right now are assumptions and one side of the story which means everything the tabloids say about her are just the side of the people who make those articles. We don’t know her story. For all we know, she doesn’t want to be a CEO. And while I agree that she’s spoiled, we should keep in mind that she was born into a rich family and she had no choice to be born into that family. With that being said, we should just let her be.” Harrison said before going to the kitchen to drop off the box of dirty plates.

“What’s up with him?” Charles asked Tom.

Tom shrugged and got out of the bar stool to check on Harrison. Tom entered the kitchen just as Harrison was about to go back out in the main area.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked and Harrison nodded. “Then what was all that rant about? Are you secretly Y/N?” He joked causing Harrison to break into a smile and chuckle.

“Nah. If I were Y/N, I wouldn’t be here right now.” Harrison said. “I’m okay, though. I really am. It’s just that I feel kind of bad for her, y’know? Everyone’s always watching her every move and judging her for it. She’s young too; she’s our age! She’s 20 and she’s a CEO already. I personally think that the reason why she’s being so reckless and extravagant is because she knew about her fate. She knew that she’ll be a CEO and that’s why she’s already living her life to the extreme. Because she knows that when she’s a CEO already, she won’t have time for anything else, not even herself.”

“I guess you’re right.” Tom trailed off.

“Of course I am. When was I ever wrong?” Harrison asked.

“When you dated Lea Berry. You were wrong about her.” Tom laughed and Harrison rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex.

“Yeah, fuck off.” Harrison shook his head and left the kitchen as Tom followed while laughing his ass off.

Being born into a rich family was definitely a blessing. You were an only child and growing up, you got everything you wanted. As you grew, you realized that it was rather lonely living in a mansion. Your only best friend was your personal maid, Angela and she was as old as your mum. Angela played with you everyday and she took care of you. While your parents loved you very much, they were never really around often. You were like Richie Rich basically. Maybe that’s why you loved that movie so much.

Your education was very… fancy. You studied at an international school for your whole life and you decided that you didn’t want to go to university because you didn’t know what you wanted to do. Your parents supported your decision and because of that, they’ve decided to retire early and leave the company to you. Now, you’re the youngest CEO.

In terms of your love life, you only had flings. Relationships weren’t your thing. In fact, your relationship with your first boyfriend only lasted for two months. After that, you had endless flings here and there. You also do one night stands because it was easy. You kept safe, though. Protection is always important.

Your friends were really nice people. They weren’t snobs and you adored that about them. You loved the fact that you were associated with people like them. They would give to charities often and they would do outreach programs in third world countries. Sometimes, you’d tag along if your parents aren’t dragging you to a boring fancy event.

You and your friends would go to different countries just to get drunk and forget about your rich kid lives. All of you loved running away from what society expected of you. Like every normal person, you loved letting loose. That’s why it pisses you off when people call you out for going out a lot because you’re a normal person like them.

“Y/N, darling, I hope you’re ready to take over.” Your mum told you. She was excited for you to replace your father in the business. She’s been waiting for it ever since you were born. Your father was kind of bittersweet because he wasn’t ready to step down yet, but at the same time he knew he had to let go at some point.

“Just promise me you’ll take care of the business.” You dad smiled sadly. You eagerly nodded and said, “I won’t let you down, dad. I’ll do my best.”

“I trust you, sweetheart.” Your dad hugged you and kissed the top of your head. He pulled away and you bid your parents goodbye. You looked around your dad’s old office as you watched your maids pick up box after box of your dad’s stuff. One maid grabbed the picture frame on your dad’s desk and you were able to catch a glimpse of the photo. It was a family picture.

“You can leave that here.” You told the maid and she put back the photo before packing up the last box and leaving you all alone.

You took a deep breath and sat down on your dad’s chair. You exhaled through your mouth and grabbed the picture frame. It was an old photo of you and your parents. You could remember that day like it was yesterday.

You and your parents were in New York for your dad’s business trip. You were only seven years old and it was your first time abroad. Of course, you didn’t want to stay in the office at all. You wanted to explore. So, you and your mum walked around the city and you arrived at Central Park.

Your mum bought you a hotdog and for some reason that made you really happy. About thirty minutes later, your dad joined both of you. All three of you played tag and somehow your dad ended up giving you a piggyback ride whilst your mum stood beside your dad, throwing her head back in laughter.

A college student who was studying photography was nearby and captured the moment. They approached the three of you and instead of getting angry for taking your picture without permission, your dad bought it from them. Now, that picture stays in his office.

It’s been years and your dad didn’t have the heart to replace the wholesome family picture. To him, he’ll always remember you as his little girl who loved adventure and meeting new people.

You rummaged through the drawers and saw an unopened envelope that had your name on it. You brows furrowed in confusion as you grabbed and opened it.

To my little girl,

The time has come for you to replace me and I can’t believe that time came early. I have to remind myself that you’re not little anymore, but I know you’re still the same girl I raised and darling, I raised you right. Your mother and I raised you right.

I won’t lie… this job is hard and tiring, but I know you’ll be able to push through. You’re strong and smart and tough. I trust that you’ll make the right decisions and I’m confident that our company is in good hands. One day there’ll come a time when you’ll step down and pass it on to your child and I’ll be gone by then. Just know that when the time comes, you did an excellent job.

My father wasn’t there for me when I needed him because he passed on and I had no one because my mother was busy taking care of my younger siblings. What I’m trying to say is that I’m here for you whenever you need me. Call me anytime.

Love, dad

Your heart warmed at your dad’s letter as you put it on top of your desk. You shook off your nerves, got up from your seat and walked out of your office. You stood outside your office and watched the staff as they did their job. You cleared your throat and said, “Excuse me? May I have your attention please?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at you. You gave them a nervous smile and said, “Hi everyone! As you may know, my father has decided to retire early. I’m his daughter, Y/N, and I will be replacing him. I’m not like my father and I know all of you loved him, but I’ll do my best and hopefully, we can all get along.”

Everyone just stared at you until one person spoke up, “You have some big shoes to fill in, sweetheart. Big shoes.”

You nodded and coughed awkwardly, “Alright, back to work people.”

This was going to be harder than you thought.

* * * *

After I post this, I’m removing everyone on my taglist and I’m making a new one. It’s 2021 and I gotta renew that shit. New year, new taglist.

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @blueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @turtoix @badreputationlove @starlight-starks @swiftmind @sovereignparker @pearce14 @justanamesstuff @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @hotforharrison @euphorichxlland @givebuckyhisplumsnow

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @justasmisunderstoodasloki @allyz @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @theonly1outof-a-billion @piscesparker @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess @beequeen8020 @justafangirlduh @sarcasticallywitty15

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield series #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield #haz osterfield series #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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asgardian--angels · 5 years

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Some more Good Omens Book minutiae

There have already been some good posts highlighting trivia and changes between the book and show (a couple are here and here) so I thought I’d add in some more that might be useful and haven’t been overdone yet. Ones I think are most helpful are bolded!

Crowley can see in the dark (because he’s a demon, not because he’s a snake)

Crowley does eat (and notes that sleeping is enjoyable after a heavy meal), but on at least one canonical occasion Aziraphale takes Crowley’s portion of food for himself (angel food cake, to be exact, and he does it without needing to ask) so infer what you will about how we never see Crowley with food in the show

Crowley does read, or at the very least it mentions him attempting to calm his nerves by reading a novel

Aziraphale learned magic when he took a class in the 1870s taught by famous stage magician John Maskelyne

Aziraphale takes his tea without sugar

Crowley does not like to shapeshift, because he is afraid he’ll forget how to turn back

It’s not terribly clear but somewhat implied that Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis were NOT Crowley and Aziraphale (they reference a ‘team’ working for them) but that the two did exchange and compare notes on Warlock’s progress frequently. So thank Neil and Co. for the screenplay choices. Additionally, Brother Francis never actually did any real gardening, he just miracled everything to look perfect

When Warlock was 6 years old, nanny and gardener left and were replaced by two tutors, Mr. Harrison (evil) and Mr. Cortese (good)

Aziraphale will employ any means “short of actual physical violence” to discourage customers in his bookshop, including unpleasant damp odors and glowering looks to anyone who walks in

That clunky watch Crowley wears was custom-made to have the time in 20 world capitals as well as the time in Hell, which was always “Too Late”, and whose battery burned out years ago but he never noticed so it kept working

In 1653 Aziraphale added his own annotations to the proof sheets of a Bible published by Bilton & Scaggs Publishing (the same as who published the Nice and Accurate Prophecies), adding a bit about losing his flaming sword (basically the dialogue in the scene of the series where God confronts him at the gate in episode 3), and is now known as the Bugger Alle This Bible, one of a special collection of misprinted Bibles Aziraphale is proud to own

Aziraphale does watch films. This includes one documentary about gorillas making nests. He also makes an Exorcist reference.

For 6000 years Aziraphale thought dolphins were fish

Crowley watched Mary Poppins on TV at Christmas one year

Aziraphale buys his clothes, while Crowley manifests them

Anathema refers to Crowley and Aziraphale as “two consenting cycle repairmen” :)

Anathema’s bicycle is named Phaeton

Aziraphale’s bookshop is situated directly next to another bookshop called ‘Intimate Books’ and he occasionally gets confused customers that wrongly come into his shop

Anathema is British, not American, in the book

Adam has an older sister named Sarah

Aziraphale is the first angel to own a computer

After the non-Armageddon, Adam alters reality to send Warlock on a plane to America, because Adam thinks America is a cool and magical place and that Warlock deserves something good. (We do not find out if Warlock’s life improves, only that he liked England because it was ‘a good place to be an American’)

Crowley was so impressed by how diabolically mundane the warranty conditions for computers were that he sent a stack of them down to Hell’s ‘Immortal Souls’ agreement department with a memo saying ‘Learn, guys’

When Crowley trapped Hastur on his answering machine, he considered taking the tape and playing it in his car until it became Freddie Mercury, but he decided even that was taking it too far

While NOT show canon, in the book the combination to Crowley’s safe containing the holy water is 4-0-0-4, the year he “slithered onto this stupid, marvellous planet” (Neil has stated that the combination in the show is meaningless and was the default for the safe they bought)

In the book, it does NOT expressly say that Crowley destroys the plants he deems failures, just that he leaves and returns an hour later with an empty flowerpot

Crowley’s flat contains a bedroom, office, kitchen, lounge, and bathroom, each “forever clean and perfect” because he doesn’t really “live” there, as well as a fridge stocked with gourmet food that never spoils and the fridge isn’t even plugged in

Shadwell believes that Aziraphale is a Russian spy

Crowley and Aziraphale had both visited Shadwell’s apartment exactly once (and Aziraphale was rather disgusted by the state of the place)

In the book (as opposed to the show) Aziraphale is full aware (and nonplussed) that there’s only a 50/50 chance Heaven would win against Hell in Armageddon, and that it doesn’t matter for humans so much anyways because everyone will be killed horribly as civilian casualties during the war itself (a hilarious and very bitchy speech absolutely worth reading, when he possesses Marvin the TV preacher)

The road to Hell isn’t paved with good intentions, rather with frozen door-to-door salesmen, and young demons go ice-skating down it on weekends

Madame Tracy’s real name is Marjorie Potts

Aziraphale has “neat, copperplate” handwriting

Crowley is an optimist

It turns out, Hastur’s murder of the telephone salespeople prevented a Crowley-esque domino effect of thousands of people getting angry from the calls and passing that anger on and on, thus actually spreading a wave of low-level goodness across London

In the book, the M25 wasn’t actually on fire, but rather an inexplicable glowing combination of “pain and dark light” called infra-black, and was both 700 degrees Celsius and -140 at the same time. The Bentley spontaneously combusted when crossing it.

When Crowley meets Aziraphale-as-Tracy, he does say ‘Is that you? Nice dress’ but the TV version added the ‘It suits you.’ However in the book he also says ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new body?’ :)))

When Adam acknowledges Crowley at the airbase, Crowley feels true terror for the first time in his life, because while Hell could make you cease to exist, the Antichrist could make it so you never existed in the first place

When Aziraphale makes the soldier disappear, he actually was transported back to his childhood home in America where his family lives

In the book, to get them both home from Tadfield Crowley steals a Jeep from the airbase

Crowley and Aziraphale are deadass just referred to as ‘the couple with the bottle [of wine]’ one time

There is no body swap scene at the end, because there didn’t need to be; in the book, the stakes of Aziraphale and Crowley’s Arrangement were not nearly as high. A big deal was never made of it, as they were too unimportant to warrant the attention of their superiors. Retribution never came. While they could get in trouble (and Crowley was threatened many times) for defying orders concerning the Apocalypse, little mention was made of their friendship being a crime. Thus, they never had any real reason to deny being friends, and were much more comfortable with their loyalties and each other. This lack of tension marks the biggest divergence between the series and book, and creates a starkly different (and interesting!) dynamic for the characters in the show.

Just me but I get the distinct sense that book Aziraphale and Crowley are already an old bickering married couple and this explains the distinct lack of pining lmao.

Anyway, I hope these were enjoyable or helpful!

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anthony crowley #mine

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fuckyeahtx · 3 years

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Once Again, Greg Abbott Is A Lethal Cretinous Scumbag

Letters From An American

Heather Cox Richardson Jun 20

Yesterday, Texas Governor Greg Abbott, a Republican, made good on his threat to defund the legislature after Democrats walked out on May 30 in order to deny the Republicans the number of people they needed to hold a vote on a bill that dramatically reworked Texas elections.

In part, Abbott is likely trying to distract Texans from yet another crisis in the state’s independent energy grid, operated by the Electric Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT). Four months ago, the electric grid failed during a cold wave, leaving more than 3 million people without electricity or heat. More than 100 people died. Now, mechanical failures during a heat wave have pushed the state to the verge of blackouts and have prompted ERCOT to ask people to turn their AC to higher temperatures, turn off their lights, and avoid using appliances that take a lot of electricity.

To make matters worse, yesterday the Public Utility Commission of Texas lifted a moratorium on electricity disconnections put in place on private utilities because of the pandemic and extended because of the February storm. It is not clear how many people will be affected by this change, but two public utilities in Austin and San Antonio say that in late May a quarter of a million households owed an average of $600 on past-due bills.

So it makes sense for Abbott—who has been throwing himself behind Trump-like causes anyway these days—to stir up headlines by defunding the legislature and blaming Democrats, even though, once the election bill failed, a number of Republicans told political journalist Judd Legum, who writes at Popular Information, that they did not know where some of the measures in it had come from and did not like them. For example, one lawmaker said that the provision to enable Texas judges to declare an election “void” at their discretion if someone charged that it had been fraudulent, “would be horrendous policy.” (That section of the bill was actually titled “OVERTURNING ELECTIONS.”) In any case, Abbott’s gesture will hit not legislators, but staffers.

But Abbott’s attack on voting rights in Texas identifies the crux of the current crisis in American democracy. For thirty years, Republicans have strengthened their hand in elections not by adjusting their message to win more voters but by gaming the system: suppressing the vote and gerrymandering.

When voters put the Democrats in charge of the federal government in 2020, Republicans responded by trying to game the system at the state level even more completely. First, when former president Trump refused to accept his loss in the election, he and some of his cronies tried to pressure Republicans in state governments to “find” the votes he needed to win, count out Democratic ballots, or, failing either of those things, allow state legislatures to choose their own electors rather than the ones that reflected the will of the voters. Their justification was the Big Lie: that Trump had won the election but had been cheated of the White House by fraud.

Their attempts led to the January 6 insurrection but did not succeed in putting Trump back into the White House. Since then, in Republican-dominated states across the country, legislatures have used the Big Lie to justify the sort of election “reform” that cuts back voting rights and enables state officials to overturn the popular vote. If those rules go into effect, it will be virtually impossible for Democrats to win a majority in the future. And a one-party government is not a democracy.

The conflict over elections, then, is a conflict over the nature of our government. It will play out over the next week, as the Senate takes up S1, the For the People Act. This measure protects the right to vote, ends partisan gerrymandering, limits the influence of money in politics, and establishes new ethics rules for presidents and other federal officeholders. The House has already passed a similar act on a strict party vote, but the measure cannot pass the Senate under the Senate’s current rules. The filibuster will permit just 41 of the 50 Republican senators to stop the act from passing.

Democrats could pass the act if all 51 Democrats (including Vice President Kamala Harris, who breaks a tie in the Senate) voted in favor both of the measure and of ending the filibuster. But Senator Joe Manchin (D-WV) has made it very clear he opposes both. He has also said he wants any measure going forward to be bipartisan.

But that is not the final word on the For the People Act.

Last week, Manchin indicated which of the measures in the For the People Act—and in the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act—he supports. He has called for expanding access to voting, an end to partisan gerrymandering, voter ID, automatic registration at motor vehicle offices, making Election Day a holiday, and making it easier for state officials to purge voters from the rolls. This is a mixture of the priorities of the leadership of both parties.

The Democrats have lined up behind Manchin’s compromise. Voting rights advocate Stacey Abrams, former Texas congressman and voting rights advocate Beto O’Rourke, and Democratic National Committee Chair Jaime Harrison have all signed on to Manchin’s blueprint. “I am so grateful for what Senator Manchin has done and what he's doing right now,” O’Rourke said. “He's trying to find a way to protect voting rights in this country at a moment that they are under attack in more than 40 states.”

But Republican leadership has dug in its heels against the measure. They immediately tried to associate it publicly with Abrams rather than the conservative Manchin, and Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) said no Republican should vote for it. Since then, he has held two press conferences— unusual for him—to voice his objections to the bill, suggesting he is concerned that some Republicans might be wavering. As if to make sure they would all stay on board, yesterday, former president Trump endorsed a primary challenger against Senator Lisa Murkowski.

But the pieces in the For the People Act itself—even before Manchin’s compromises—are generally very popular among people of both parties. What will happen when Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) forces a vote on the bill or, perhaps, breaks it up into pieces, taking away Republicans’ ability to make the blanket argument that they don’t like federal legislation on voting? Will Republicans hold their wall if they are forced to vote on the bill piece by piece?

And, in the service of a very popular bill that will protect our democracy, opposed by an entrenched minority that refuses to compromise as the Democrats have, will Manchin agree to carving out voting legislation from the filibuster as the Senate has already carved out financial measures and judicial nominations?

What is on the table this week is a bill that carries outsized weight for its role in our democracy. In 1854, Democrats pushing the Kansas-Nebraska Act cleared the way for the spread of human enslavement to the new western territories and the subsequent domination of the federal government by elite slave owners. In 1890, Republicans backing the Federal Elections Bill tried, one last time, to protect Black voting before voter suppression ended it for the next seventy years. In 1965, Democrats and Republicans together agreed to end racial discrimination in voting.

In 2021, once again, Congress will be voting on a measure that will define who we are.

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crowdvscritic · 3 years

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round up // NOVEMBER 20

Hi, I’m tired. Actually, my friend Celeste created a piece of art that puts the emphasis needed on that sentiment:

I’m very tired. November felt like it was three years and also felt like it went by in a blink and also I’m not sure where October ended and November began—how does time work like that? (I’ve yet to see Tenet, but maybe that will explain it.) But like Michael Scott, somehow I manage, and lately it’s been like this:

Late-night Etsy scrolling. Browsing beautiful, non-big-box-store artwork is very calming just before I go to bed. I’d recommend Etsy stores like Celeste’s chr paperie shop, which I know from experience is full of great Christmas gift ideas.

Taking a day off of work to do laundry. I’m not sure if it’s more #adulting that I did that or that I was excited to do that.

Eating Ghiradelli chocolate chips straight from the bag. I actually don’t recommend this as a healthy option, but this is also not a health blog.

Watching lots and lots of ‘80s movies. One day I’ll ask a therapist why this decade of films is so comforting for me despite its many flaws, but for now I’m just rolling with it.

Reading. Have you heard of this? It’s a form of entertainment but doesn’t require screens—wild!

Memes. All good Pippin “Fool of a” Took jokes are welcome here.

Leaning into the Christmas spirit by ordering that Starbucks peppermint mocha, making plans to watch everything in that TCM Christmas book I haven’t seen, and keeping the lights on my hot pink tinsel tree on all day as I work from home.

This month’s Round Up is full of stuff that made me smile and stuff that sucked me into its world—I think they’ll do the same for you, too.

November Crowd-Pleasers

Sister Act (1992)

If in four years you aren’t in an emotional state to watch election results roll in, I recommend watching Whoopi Goldberg pretend to be a nun for 100 minutes. (Though, incidentally, if you want to watch that clip edited to specifically depict how the results came in this year, you’ll need to watch Sister Act 2.) This musical-comedy is about as feel-good as it gets, meaning there’s no reason you should wait four more years to watch it. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

Nevada Memes

Speaking of election results, Nevada memes. That’s it—that’s the tweet. Vulture has a round up of some of the best.

youtube

SNL Round Up

Laugh and enjoy!

“Cinema Classics: The Birds” (4605 with John Mulaney)

“Uncle Ben” (4606 with Dave Chappelle)

RoboCop (1987)

I’m not surprised I liked RoboCop, but I am surprised at why I liked RoboCop. Not only is this a boss action blockbuster, it’s an investigation into consumerism and the commodification of the human body. It’s also a critique of institutions that treat crime like statistics instead of actions done by people that impact people. That said, it’s also movie about a guy who’s fused with a robot and melts another guy’s face off with toxic sludge, so there’s a reason I’m not listing this under the Critic section. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10

Double Feature – ‘80s Comedies: National Lampoon’s Vacation (1983) + Major League (1989)

The ‘80s-palooza is in full swing! In Vacation (Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 8/10), Chevy Chase just wants to spend time with his family on a vacation to Wally World, but wouldn’t you know it, Murphy’s Law kicks into gear as soon as the Griswold family shifts from out of Park. The brilliance of the movie is that every one of these terrible things is plausible, but the Griswolds create the biggest problems themselves. In Major League (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10), Tom Berenger, Charlie Sheen, and Wesley Snipes are Cleveland’s last hope for a winning baseball team. Like the Griswolds, mishaps and hijinks ensue in their attempt to prevent their greedy owner from moving the Indians to Miami, but the real win is this movie totally gets baseball fans. Like most ‘80s movies, not everything in this pair has aged well, but they brought some laughs when I needed them most.

This Time Next Year by Sophie Cousens (2020)

They’re born a minute apart in the same hospital, but they don’t meet until their 30th birthday on New Year’s Day. So, yes, it’s a little bit Serendipity, and it’s a little bit sappy, but those are both marks in this book’s favor. This Time Next Year is a time-hopping rom-com with lots of almost-meet-cutes that will have you laughing, believing in romantic twists of fate, and finding hope for the new year.

Double Feature – ‘80s Angsty Teens: Teen Wolf (1985) + Uncle Buck (1989)

In the ‘80s, Hollywood finally understood the angsty teen, and this pair of comedies isn’t interested in the melodrama earlier movies like Rebel Without a Cause were depicting. (I’d recommend Rebel, but not if you want to look back on your teen years with any sense of humor.) In Teen Wolf (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 5/10), Michael J. Fox discovers he’s a werewolf.one that looks more like the kid in Jumanji than any other portrayal of a werewolf you’ve seen. It’s a plot so ‘80s and so bizarre you won’t believe this movie was greenlit.

In Uncle Buck (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), John Candy is attempting to connect with the nieces and nephew he hasn’t seen in years, including one moody high schooler. (Plus, baby Gaby Hoffman and pre-Home Alone Macauley Culkin!) This is my second pick from one of my all-time fave filmmakers, John Hughes (along with National Lampoon’s Vacation, above), and it’s one more entry that balances heart and humor in a way only he could do. You can see where I rank this movie in Hughes’s pantheon on Letterboxd.

Lord of the Rings memes

This month on SO IT’S A SHOW?, Kyla and I revisited The Lord of the Rings, a trilogy we love almost as much as we love Gilmore Girls. You can listen to our episode about the series on your fave podcast app, and you can laugh through hundreds of memes like I did for “research” on Twitter.

Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson (2019)

Most adults are afraid of children’s temper tantrums, but can you imagine how terrified you’d be if they caught on fire in their fits of rage? That’s the premise of this novel, which begins when an aimless twentysomething becomes the nanny of a Tennessee politician’s twins who burst into flames when they get emotional. The book is filled with laugh-out-loud moments but never leaves behind the human emotion you need to make a magical realistic story.

An Officer and a Gentlemen (1982)

Speaking of aimless twentysomethings and emotion, feel free to laugh, cry, and swoon through this melodrama in the ‘80s canon. Richard Gere meanders his way into the Navy when he has nowhere else to go, and he tries to survive basic training, work through his family issues, and figure out his future as he also falls in love with Debra Winger. So, yeah, it’s a schamltzier version of Top Gun, but it’s schmaltz at its finest. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

November Critic Picks

Double Feature – ‘40s Amensia Romances: Random Harvest (1942) + The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947)

Speaking of schmaltz at its finest, let me share a few more titles fitting that description. In Random Harvest (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10), Greer Garson falls in love with a veteran who can’t remember his life before he left for war. In The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10), Gene Tierney discovers a ghost played by a crotchety Rex Harrison in her new home. Mild spoiler: Both feature amnesiac plot developments, and while amnesia has become a cliché in the long history of romance films, Harvest is moving enough and Mr. Muir is charming enough that you won’t roll your eyes. You can see these and more romances complicated by forced forgetfulness in this Letterboxd round up.

The African Queen (1951)

It’s Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn directed by John Huston—I mean, I don’t feel like I need to explain why this is a winner. Bogart (in his Oscar-winning role) and Hepburn star in a two-hander script, dominating the screen time except for a select few scenes with supporting cast. The pair fight for survival while cruising on a small boat called The African Queen during World War I (in Africa, natch), and the two make this small story feel grand and epic. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949)

A young man’s (Dennis Price) mother is disowned from their wealthy family because she marries for love. After her death, he seeks vengeance by killing all of the family members ahead of him in line to be the Duke D'Ascoyne. The twist? All of his victims are played by Sir Alec Guinness! Almost every character in this black comedy is a terrible person, so you won’t be too sorry to see them go—you can just enjoy the creative “accidents” he stages and stay in suspense on whether our “hero” gets his comeuppance. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife (1937)

What would you do if you found out you were to be someone’s eighth wife? Well, it’s probably not what Claudette Colbert does in this screwball comedy that reminds me a bit of Love Crazy. This isn’t the first time I’ve recommended Colbert, Gary Cooper, or Ernst Lubitsch films, so it’s no surprise these stars and this director can make magic together in this hilarious battle of the wills. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

The Red Shoes (1948)

I love stories about the competition between your life and your art, and The Red Shoes makes that competition literal. Moira Shearer plays a ballerina who feels life is meaningless without dancing—then she falls in love. That’s an oversimplification of a rich character study and some of the most beautiful ballet on film, but I can’t do it justice in a short paragraph. Just watch (perhaps while you’re putting up your hot pink tinsel tree?) and soak in all the goodness. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 10/10

The Third Man (1949)

Everybody loves to talk about Citizen Kane, and with the release of Mank on Netflix, it’s newsworthy again. But don’t miss this other ‘40s team up of Joseph Cotten and Orson Welles. Cotten is a writer digging for the truth of his friend’s (Welles) death in a mysterious car accident. Eyewitness accounts differ on what happened, and who was the third man at the scene only one witness remembers? 71 years later, this movie is still tense, and this actor pairing is still electric. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

The Untouchables (1987)

At the end of October, we lost Sean Connery. I looked back on his career first by writing a remembrance for ZekeFilm and then by watching The Untouchables. (In a perfect world I would’ve reversed that order, but c’est la vie.) In my last selection from the ‘80s, Connery and Kevin Costner attempt to convict Robert De Niro’s Al Capone of anything that will stick and end his reign of crime in Chicago. Directed by Brian De Palma and set to an Ennio Morricone soundtrack, this film is both an exciting action flick and an artistic achievement that we literally discussed in one of my college film classes. Connery won his Oscar, and K. Cos is giving one of the best of his career, too. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9.5/10

Remember the Night (1940)

Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck in my favorite team up yet! Double Indemnity may be the bona fide classic in the canon, but this Christmas story—with MacMurray as a district attorney prosecuting shoplifter Stanwyck— is a charmer. I’ve added it to my list of must-watch Christmas movies—watch for some holiday cheer and rom-com feels. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

Photo credits: chr paperie. Books my own. All others IMDb.com.

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

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Globe, November 9

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Prince Andrew fails lie detector -- new crisis rocks the palace

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Bruno Toniolo shirtless, Heidi Pratt at a pumpkin patch in L.A., Jacqueline Bisset catches some rays in L.A.

Page 3: Larry David leaves an L.A. office, Ellen Pompeo, Pete Wentz

Page 4: Kathie Lee Gifford is talking to NBC bigwigs about coming back to Today and they’re hot over the idea but Hoda Kotb is not pleased and Jenna Bush Hager is feeling threatened because Jenna never really grabbed the audience like Kathie Lee did, Martha Stewart and Gwyneth Paltrow are heading into the holidays trash-talking each other even more than usual and their pals have nowhere to hide -- they’re snippier than ever and can’t get through the week without saying something crass but the trouble is they have the same friends and they use some of the same chefs and caterers and crew -- all their friends in the Hamptons including the Seinfelds and Beyonce and Jay-Z and Billy Joel and Christie Brinkley and Rachael Ray are trying to keep out of it but it’s impossible because Martha and Gwyneth are both screaming for loyalty

Page 5: Legal hotshot and writer Jeffrey Toobin has been shelved by the New Yorker magazine for showing off his willie to co-workers during a Zoom conference call -- witnesses say Toobin was masturbating but he insists it was a blooper

Page 6: Dolly Parton was so lovestruck when she met Elvis Presley that she nearly chucked her marriage and career to shack up with Elvis -- Dolly is ready to tell all about Elvis after decades of protecting her husband Carl Dean and Elvis’ only child Lisa Marie Presley -- Dolly was in her late 20s and Elvis was in his late 30s when they had their sizzling encounter where she got dolled up to meet Elvis in a Nashville office and discuss working together and he wanted to do a duet but she didn’t trust herself to work with him and she didn’t even let Elvis do a cover of her song I Will Always Love You -- even though Dolly didn’t actually cheat on Carl she sure was tempted and she’s felt guilty about it ever since

Page 8: Just two weeks after splitting with his wife of 14 years former Home Improvement kid Zachery Ty Bryan was arrested and jailed on charges of trying to strangle a terrified galpal -- after a night of partying where he was photographed surrounded by four gals with an iced bottle of vodka at the table Zachery reportedly got into a heated clash with his galpal and she claims Zachery grabbed her by the throat and squeezed then tried to snatch her phone when she attempted to call 911 so she ran to a neighbor’s home where she hid while cops were called

Page 9: Distressed Kelly Clarkson and her two toddlers are in therapy to help cope with the anguish brought on by her divorce from Brandon Blackstock -- the talk show host is especially struggling because the split is playing out so publicly and the kids are seeing things about their mom on TV and she feels immense guilt about the divorce but knows it was the best decision because she wasn’t happy married to Brandon though she did try but staying in a marriage just for the kids wasn’t an option for her -- Kelly was deeply wounded when her father-in-law Narvel Blackstock’s management company recently sued her for $1.4 million in alleged unpaid commissions but she’s speaking with her ex privately in an effort to resolve the issue out of court but Kelly suspects he’s using it as a bargaining chip for a bigger settlement and also feels he’s using the kids against her as a weapon

Page 10: Showbiz legend Michelle Phillips has become a shut-in who sits home alone tippling wine while watching movies on TV and listening to her hits from The Mamas & the Papas where she is the last surviving member of the band -- she’s sad the rest are all gone and she’ll put on a record and sit in the dark; she misses them and so many other people -- she’s become a shut-in due to the pandemic and can’t bear for people to see her so old and haggard and overweight and all those years of partying have done their damage to her once-beautiful face -- she also hasn’t been able to see her young grandson and she’s grieving the loss of her longtime lover who died in 2017

Page 11: Baywatch hunk Jeremy Jackson’s cover girl ex-wife has been found homeless wandering California’s mean streets in worn and shabby clothes -- lost for two years Loni Willison is now virtually unrecognizable with missing teeth and her long blond tresses cropped short -- she was found pushing a grocery cart filled with her battered possessions in Venice -- despite her tragic situation she insists she’d doing fine and doesn’t want help despite reportedly having drug and mental health issues

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Rita Ora in a see-through frock (picture), Lily James got caught brazenly canoodling with the very much married Dominic West who plays her father in the BBC miniseries The Pursuit of Love, just weeks after Cardi B filed to dissolve her marriage to Offset she’s put the split on hold and all it took was Offset to spend bucks on a heart-tugging Sunset Strip billboard and a Rolls-Royce and a Hermes Birkin bag, Kate Hudson’s getting loose-lipped about gross snotty smooches with her leading man Matthew McConaughey

Page 13: Vinny Guadagnino eating in Beverly Hills (picture), Kaitlyn Bristowe has a puffy trout pout (picture), Shia LaBeouf doesn’t let an apparent injury keep him from getting out and about in Pasadena (picture), Alanis Morissette says the fame that came with her 1995 revenge song You Oughta Know wasn’t so sweet but instead was an isolating experience

Page 14: Nicole Kidman is starring opposite Hugh Grant in the thriller series The Undoing but she really wanted to plays Hugh’s love interest in Notting Hill except she wasn’t well-known enough, Reba McEntire has landed herself a brand new TV show which is a modernized Fried Green Tomatoes drama series in which she’ll play the present-day Idgie Threadgoode, Fashion Verdict -- Regina King 8/10, Isabelle Huppert 2/10, Queen Maxima 5/10, Tracee Ellis Ross 9/10, Cher 4/10

Page 16: How John F. Kennedy stole the White House from Richard Nixon -- Chicago mob rigged the 1960 vote and cheated Nixon out of the presidency

Page 19: True Crime

Page 21: Parkinson’s patient Alan Alda is refusing to slow down at age 84 and friends fear the fragile M*A*S*H legend is headed for a devastating health crisis and he’s busier now than he ever was even during his sitcom days and he bravely says he lives with it by staying active but medication can only do so much and his friends and family including wife Arlene are worried he’s pushing himself too hard, teary-eyed Ringo Starr confesses his last conversation with dying Beatles bandmate George Harrison was heartbreaking and unforgettable -- Ringo wanted to stay with George until the end but his daughter Lee had been diagnosed with a brain tumor and Ringo had to rush to Boston to see her and when Ringo told George he had to go to Boston George said D’ya want me to come wit’ ya? so even on his death bed George made his best buddy smile while both faced unspeakable grief

Page 22: 10 Things You Don’t Know About S. Epatha Merkerson, Today show host Hoda Kotb reveals Frank Sinatra Jr. was the show’s worst guest because he clammed up instead of touting a book about his famous dad in 2015, Khloe Kardashian confesses she once worked as Nicole Richie’s personal assistant because she just needed a job and they went to school together -- Nicole’s reality career crashed in 2007 which was the same year Khloe’s series started

Page 24: Cover Story -- Disgraced Prince Andrew has flunked a lie detector test on his close relationship with murdered American pedophile Jeffrey Epstein and now the rogue royal insists he’ll never cooperate with the FBI for fear his testimony will land him behind bars but Queen Elizabeth’s favorite son has his back against the wall as new evidence surfaces on both sides of the Atlantic -- Andrew is terrified newly released secret testimony from Epstein’s accused madam Ghislaine Maxwell is just the tip of the iceberg of what she’s prepared to reveal and Maxwell’s revelations detailing her twisted sex life come on the heels of an explosive new British book accusing Andrew of attending debauched events with Epstein where teenage girls were parading around topless -- even though friends close to Andrew say he did nothing wrong and has no reason to fear the prince may not have a choice about spilling his guts because the fed-up royal family is threatening to cut off the cash-strapped rogue unless he plays ball

Page 25: Prince Andrew has been banished from the gift shop at his mother’s Balmoral Castle -- tourists can still purchase postcards her Her Majesty’s kids Prince Charles and Princess Anne and Prince Edward but Prince Andrew has disappeared which is a sure sign that Andrew is in the doghouse since items featuring Elizabeth’s beloved corgis are still up for sale

Page 26: Health Report

Page 27: Dirtiest places on planes exposed

Page 30: Serial sleaze Matt Lauer’s ready to pop the question to girlfriend Shamin Abas over the holidays and he hopes for a brighter future with her a year after his 20-year marriage to Annette Roque ended in divorce -- Matt showers Shamin her with gifts and wants to buy a house on the East Coast where they can make new memories and Matt’s hinted he’s already bought the ring and plans to propose by New Year’s and he hopes to have a celeb-studded wedding at their new home, Kathleen Turner will be back at Michael Douglas’ throat as his acid ex in The Kominsky Method to fill the hole left by Alan Arkin who abruptly pulled out of the third and final season of the show

Page 35: Matthew McConaughey’s father predicted he’d die while making love to his wife and he did, desperate to turn back time Marie Osmond is going whole hog on a head-to-toe makeover -- Marie is no stranger to cosmetic fixes and she is considering a slew of procedures to get a new look that’ll knock ‘em out including everything from Botox and fillers to face-lift to boob job and lipo-sculpting to enhance her waistline -- the makeover is motivated by revenge because she’s bitter over recently being pushed off her co-host gig on The Talk and now she’s counting on a younger look to land her a plum new TV gig

Page 38: Real Life Monsters

Page 39: Kris Jenner blames social media for ending the 14-year run of Keeping Up with the Kardashians because when the show started there was no Instagram or Snapchat or other social media platforms but now she gripes that now there are so many the viewer doesn’t have to wait three or four months to see an episode but instead information spreads online in real time, Phil Collins’ ex-wife has traded him in for a 31-year-old guitarist who never managed to make much noise in the music industry -- Phil was furious when he heard Orianne Cevey married Tom Bates in Las Vegas, Black Panther star Chadwick Boseman died without a will according to his widow -- Taylor Simone Ledward filed a probate case in L.A. asking a judge to name her administrator of Boseman’s estimated $938,500 estate with limited authority

Page 44: Straight Talk -- Bruce Willis and Demi Moore’s daughter Rumer Willis claims posing for raunchy bondage shots proves she’s a liberated woman free from sexual stereotypes but it’s not that simple

Page 45: Jeff Bridges is battling non-Hodgkin lymphoma which is a rampaging cancer that often spreads through the body to the liver and bone marrow and lungs -- while the cancer can be deadly experts say the five-year survival rate is 73 percent

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underoossss · 5 years

Text

Dancing Under The Rain - H.O

Prologue

pairing: Detective!Harrison x female!reader

words: 1.5k

AN: Hello everyone, spooky season has begun with me scaring myself with a new story idea after months of writer’s block and being SO SELF CONSCIOUS of everything I wrote. This idea came to me out of nowhere and I talked to some friends about it which helped me get the confidence I needed to start writing it. This will probably have 5 chapters in total, each of them is kind of like a time skip. This was also inspired by the song RAIN by Ben Platt, hence the title, and it’s about two people who have shut everyone out and are scared of opening up to the one person who might understand what they’ve been through. Harrison and the reader are around their late 20′s early 30′s and the town I used is fictional of course. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to read your comments on this short prologue I’ve written for you. (If someone wants to help me with a moldboard hmu)

----

Over the years you have learned the pros and cons of living in a small town.

The pros:

You can escape from your previous life, from anything that hurt you and start over. No one knows who you are or the past that seems to sometimes follow you like a shadow sometimes. It’s a fresh start and 4 years ago, that was exactly what you needed.

That’s how you ended up in Dewitt, three hours away from Cambridge where everywhere you went people look at you with pity in their eyes. It’s as if losing your brother hadn��t been enough, no, people had to remind you with every look and every how are you? What were you even supposed to say? Devastated would only make people worried and okay made them believe you’re lying to them. Either way you felt like shit, there wasn’t a place you could go that didn’t remind you of him so you did what anyone else would do. Pack up your things and move to a remote town close to the sea where no oneknew you.

The cons:

People talk. A lot.

Not that people aren’t nice, they are, well most of them. However, that doesn’t make them any less nosy or gets rid the river of gossip that inevitably flows when something different from the routine happens. You expected it going in, if word got around in Cambridge then it would certainly get around in Dewitt. Therefore you kept quiet about any personal details or stories, to them you were the psychology professor that owns the bookshop/café in Harold street. You drive up to Cambridge twice a week to lecture your students and Skype any of them who need office hours. During the summers you give online classes and put pastel blue tables outside your store for people to read or talk. To everyone there you were the nice young lady who makes some really nice coffee, who is always smiling and who tutors whoever needs help in science or English lit. Gossip is a plague though, one that no one can escape so that’s how find out a detective has moved into town. Richard Mensen has gone missing and it’s been a week since his family, or anyone else saw him. The local authorities haven’t gotten anywhere so they sent someone else to help.

You walk to the entrance of the bookstore and glance at the police station as a man steps out of a car and walks inside. Harrison Osterfield, the detective from London who you can tell already walks with a massive weight on his shoulders.

----

Everyone is looking, there are cameras and reporters and Harrison just wants to go home. Eight and a half months after arriving to Dewitt, the case was finally solved. Richard Mensen was dead, that they discovered three weeks after arriving. The next eight months that followed were about finding out who did it, why they’d done it and convicting them for ruining a family’s life. They were also full of judgement, Harrison should be used to it by now, but he’s not. His palms sweat and his heart beats too fast under the attention of everyone in the town, every look of disappointment they had sent his way for taking so long.

You do it, Harrison wanted to say, go and solve it if it’s that easy. He puts on a neutral face, his mask, and tries not to give away how terrified he is of fucking up someone else’s life because of his shortcomings. He hasn’t so far, but he lived in fear of it happening. It’s brought him sleepless nights trying to figure cases out, cost him relationships and his confidence. He is sure of one thing though, they got the right guy convicted and now he can go to his little house in the outskirts of town and sleep for ten days.

“The case has been closed, the killer was sentenced to life in prison around thirty minutes ago. We kindly request the press to let the affected family rest and finally deal with their grief at this time. The people of Dewitt can be in peace now, we consider this case to be an anomaly in the otherwise safe community they live in. That’s all I have to say.”

Harrison steps aside and leaves the reporters standing outside of the station as he takes off his tie and shoves it in the pocket of his navy blue suit. The cool spring breeze pushes his hair back as he walks along the sidewalk by the many stores in Harold street. He takes a deep breath, feeling the tension leave his shoulders and smelling freshly ground coffee. Your bookshop is right ahead, the red flowers by the window blooming beautifully under the spring sun and contrasting with the pale yellow of the storefront. Harrison checks his watch, 2:30pm, it’s a bit too late for a coffee but he didn’t drink his usual one this morning and he’d be dammed if he doesn’t take this excuse to see you.

You’re sitting on a table by a bookshelf when he steps into the shop, there’s some papers in front of you, a cup of tea far away from them and what looks like a blueberry muffin by your right hand. Your eyebrows are furrowed while you focus on the words in front of you, almost dropping the piece of muffin you bring to your mouth with a fork. Setting down the fork, you chew on the pastry as you grab a pen and scribble something on one of the papers. It’s only when someone clears their throat behind him that he realizes he’s been leaning on the doorway and staring at you for more than a couple of minutes.

His ears feel like they’re burning when he steps into the shop to let the other person in. It’s George, the owner of the convenience store, who gives him a nod as he walks towards the shelves in the back of the shop. Harrison mumbles a quick apology and walks towards the register where the drink menu is displayed.

“Detective Osterfield.” You smile, standing up when you notice him come into the bookshop. “How was the court this morning?”

“Please, Y/N, call me Harrison.” He feels himself smile as he shakes his head. The case was over so there are no need for formalities, he’d hate it if you only saw him as a professional doing his job whenever he came for coffee. He’s here to see you, the coffee is an added bonus. “Court went well, he got a sentence and the case is closed.”

“That’s good. I bet you’re looking forward to rest for a while.” You walk around the register and move to the expresso machine. “Your usual?”

“No, umm, if I drink coffee right now I won’t sleep and I really need a nap.” He scratches the back of his neck. Why is he always so nervous. He’s seen crime scenes and blood but he can’t talk to you without feeling like a teenager? “But maybe one of those chocolate cookies you’ve got there.”

“Oh! I’m sorry if I’m keeping you then, let me get that cookie for you.” You push your hair behind your ear as you grab a small paper bag and use a napkin to pick a cookie from the jar. “Here you go.”

Harrison can’t help but return the smile you give him and moves to take his wallet from his jacket. “No, you’re fine don’t worry. How much to I owe you?”

“Oh, nevermind that.” You chuckle, smoothing the white blouse you are wearing. “Take it as a thank you for making our town safer.”

Harrison’s ears burn once more, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You shrug, suddenly looking shy. “Are you, umm, staying in Dewitt? With the case being closed and all?”

Harrison hadn’t even thought about leaving, this town had become part of his routine and he dared say he’s grown fond of it. Not to mention he’d grown fond you. “Yeah, I’m staying.”

“Good, err, great... that’s nice.” You smile. “Would you like to take a walk down to the beach someday? It’s okay if you say no, don’t feel like you have to say yes because of the cookie, it’s not a bribe or anything I just-”

“Y/N.” Harrison stops your rambling stepping towards you. His heart is beating a mile a minute, you just asked him out. The broody shitty detective that takes eight months to figure out a case. He’s the luckiest shitty detective there is. “I’d love that.” He says, taking you hand.

“Really?” You smile, your eyes find his and he’s surprised to see his own. Eyes that smile but not all the way. Eyes that are hiding something painful that’s locked away in your heart.

“Yeah.” He smiles back, squeezing your hand with his before stepping back. “We can go whenever you want, just let me know.” Let me get to know you, he thinks.

You nod your head and smile at him again, and he is almost certain that you will. It could take time, but he’s willing to wait until the moment you decide you will because he’ll try to do the same.

----

tagging: @lovestruckhaz @parkerpuffwrites @deleteidentity @lonely--witch @the-claire-bitch-project @rachramblesstuff @peeterparkr @hollandharrison @angelhaz11 💓

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield series #detective au #harrison osterfield au #pauwrites #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield

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naturallytom · 4 years

Text

Mending a Broken Heart (Tom Holland x reader)

a/n: i posted this before but it flopped so...let’s hope that doesn’t happen again!

warnings: language, angst, mentions of cheating

listen to: broken home (5sos), shouldn’t come back (demi lovato), river of tears (alessia cara)

please please reblog/leave feedback!! i worked really hard on this don’t want it to end up with like..20 notes lol

gif not mine!

A quick glance to his left hand would reveal that he didn’t.

You spent your nights wondering if it was something you did. Were you too clingy when he left to film? Was he just tired of you after four years of marriage? Did he find someone else?

No. You shook your head to yourself one night as you laid in the bed by yourself, the space usually occupied by Tom cold. If he found someone else and if he cheated, that’s on him. Not on you.

The door opening and shutting alerted you that Tom was home. You sighed, knowing it’d be another night of sleeping on opposite sides of the bed.

The door to the bedroom opened and in came Tom, Tessa jumping up to greet him.

“Hey girl, hey love, how are you, hm?” He whispered, petting Tessa as his eyes flickering over to you, who was visibly awake. “Thought you’d be asleep by now. ‘S late.”

“Can’t,” He shook his head as he got ready for bed. “Harrison wants to watch the game. Told him I’d go.”

“Didn’t you just see Harrison tonight?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing.” You sighed, obviously upset. “Nothing, Tom. Goodnight.”

“Night.” He responded, turning out the light and climbing into bed, falling asleep with his back toward you.

The next day, you were surprised to see Tom already awake and waiting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea when you got downstairs.

“Good morning.” You smiled softly.

“We need to talk.” He told you. You felt your heart drop and your palms get sweaty, but you wiped them on your pajama pants in an effort to seem totally calm and not panicked.

“A-About what?” You asked, your voice coming out shaky.

“I think,” Tom started. “I think we should get divorced.”

It was then, at 8:30 am that your world came crashing down.

“W-What?” You whimpered out, your voice weaker than before. “Why?”

“I’m not happy with you anymore.” He said simply. Your eyes flickered to his left hand, noticing the absence of the golden wedding band, making your heart ache.

“So that’s it? Three years of dating and four years of marriage down the drain?” You sobbed, holding your knees to your chest as you sat on the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, I am.”

As soon as everyone left, you shut the door, slid down the back of it, and cried.

After the divorce you buried yourself in work, using it as a distraction from going home to an empty house. Slowly but surely, the framed pictures of you and Tom came down, making a new home on the empty shelves in the closet. It hurt to be alone in the empty house at first, memories of you and Tom when you were happy plaguing the walls. Once you started making time for yourself, however, you became happier.

Tonight, after a long day of decorating the house and making it seem cheery, you ordered your favorite Chinese food, played your favorite Christmas songs, and ran yourself a bath with a vanilla scented bath bomb. You were enjoying a glass of wine, the hot water of the bath soothing you when the music playing from your phone was interrupted by a call coming in.

You turned off the voicemail before the phrase could be finished. Millions of thoughts filled your mind, ranging from happy ones to ones that made your heart ache and tears fill your eyes.

You decided to ignore it, pretend it never happened, and enjoy your self care night.

The next day you were enjoying a cup of tea and reading your book when a knock on the door interrupted you. Confusion filled your body, you weren’t expecting anyone to pop by.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a sight you never thought you’d see again. Tom was standing on your the top step leading up to the front door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands.

“Hi.” He breathed out, his breath forming a cloud around him due to the coldness of the air.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, keeping your eyes focused on the ground.

“Did you get my voicemail?” He responded, hope filling his eyes when you nodded. “Um, I brought these for you. I was hoping we could talk.”

“Why should I talk to you? We’re divorced, just like you wanted.” Tom winced at the words. “Nothing to change.”

“Actually, we’re not.” He corrected. “I called the office the other day. Um, it’s not official yet.”

“Well then they should make it official. Maybe I can call them and make it happen as my very last Christmas present to you. Just what you wanted.” You snapped.

“No, this isn’t what I want, can I speak, please?” He pleaded, his eyes resembling those of a puppy.

“Fucking, fine, Tom! Jesus.” You groaned.

“Can, can I come in?” He asked, his voice small and fragile.

You debated saying no, saying that he’s not welcome in your house after what he did. But it was snowing and to be honest, your face was getting cold. So you opened the door a little wider, allowing him to come in.

“Stay there.” You instructed, taking the flowers from him and placing them on the kitchen counter before going back to where he was waiting at the front door, taking a seat on the stairs across from him. “Speak.”

“The house looks nice. Really nice. You did a good j-”

“Tom I’m not gonna listen to your small talk. Say what you have to say and leave.” You told him. His heart broke but he couldn’t blame you.

“You haven’t made me happy in months, Tom.”

“I know.” His heart clenched. “I know and I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am.”

“Was there someone else? Did you cheat on me?” You asked.

“No, no absolutely not, y/n.” He answered before adding; “I went on a date with someone after we split up but it didn’t work out. I realized she wasn’t what I want.”

“Of course she wasn’t.” You scoffed.

“I want you, y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy again.” He told you, tears filling your eyes. “Is there..is there any possibility you could love me again?”

“Again?” You seethed. “Tom I never fell out of love with you! I never stopped loving you! That was all you! You stopped loving me and you wanted this stupid fucking divorce!”

“I..I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either.” He whispered, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. “Please, y/n, if there’s even the tiniest chance..”

“Of what, Tom? Of going right back to being married? Of you making me happy? I don’t know, Tom! I don’t know anything except that I hate you right now.” You sobbed, crying into your knees while Tom let out quiet sobs of his own, his heart clenching at the lack of wedding band on your left hand and the missing pictures that previously decorated the first hallway in your once shared house.

“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so badly.” He cried, wiping his tears away.

“And if leaving me wasn’t enough, you took Tessa too! I was left completely alone in this big fucking house that was haunted by you.” You sobbed.

“I’m..I’m sorry, y/n. So so fucking sorry. What do you want me to do?”

“I want...I want you to hurt. I want you to hurt the way you hurt me. I want you to know how this fucking feels.” You said, your voice getting louder with each word that fell from your lips.

Tom could only cry. This was ripping him apart, he couldn’t even imagine what the whole thing felt like to you.

“I’m gonna need time to think, Tom.” You finally mumbled, Tom nodding in response.

“I’ll give you all the time you need. I promise you-”

“Don’t. Don’t promise me anything.” You spoke, your voice low. “You won’t be able to keep it. You promised you’d love me forever four years ago and look what happened.”

“y/n pl-”

“y/n, I swear to you, if this isn’t working out, you can leave me. I...I just want a chance to prove myself to you.” He begged.

“God, Tom. You don’t get it! I’m not going through this again. Do you realize how much you broke me the first time? Fuck, you had a chance, Tom. And you threw it away.” You muttered quietly.

“I regret that every day. Every god damn day.” He told you honestly.

“I don’t know, Tom.” You sighed.

“Talk to me?” He tried, knowing you were hiding something deeper than an ‘I don’t know.’

“Don’t know what else there is to say.” You mumbled. “I don’t trust you, I-I can’t trust you. I hate you.”

“The pictures of us aren’t up anymore.” Tom sniffled, changing the subject.

“I hated looking at them.” You told him honestly. “I want to start over.”

“What?”

“That sounds perfect, y/n. Thank y-”

“Get out, Tom. Please. I just want to be alone and not with you right now. I’m still not happy with you.”

“Okay.” He breathed out, hope filling him once again. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“What did I just say about promises?” You asked tearily.

“I know, I know. I’m determined to keep this promise, though.” He told you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please leave for now.” You whimpered, watching as he walked out the door, just like he did when he broke your heart.

You decided you needed another self care night. Another bath was run, another vanilla scented bath bomb was used, more wine was consumed.

Tom texted you right as you got out of the bath.

You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone gently on your bed, though you could feel your heart rate pick up and butterflies fill your stomach.

Over a month after you started texting again, Tom took you on a first date. Pulling up to your house, Tom felt the nerves fill his body as he walked up to your front door and knocked, another bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

He felt all the air leave his lungs as you opened the door. You looked absolute stunning. You were wearing a navy blue dress that reached down to just above your knees, one Tom bought you one year.

“Wow, hi.” He breathed. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, accepting the flowers he handed you. “I’ll be right back.”

Tom took you to your favorite restaurant that night, one that the two of you frequented when you (formerly) went on dates.

When he took you back to your house, he walked you up to the front door, where he nervously asked if he could kiss you.

You said yes, and that was all Tom needed to press a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss was magical, both of you felt the sparks between the two of you.

“God I missed doing that.” Tom mumbled as he pulled away to breathe.

“Then do it again.”

A couple months after that, Tom moved back in with you. The pictures of the two of you were dusted off and put back up on the walls in the first hallway of the house.

Finally, after a year, Tom proposed to you (again). You hesitated a little bit, still scared it would end in heartbreak again, which broke Tom’s heart, but said you yes in the end.

The two of you renewed your vows, putting on the golden bands that were once again a symbol of the love the two of you shared.

You had a small party back at your house after the ceremony, your families joining to celebrate. You found Tom alone in the kitchen, grabbing a beer for him and Harry.

“Hey.” You greeted, fiddling with your fingers as tears of happiness filled your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, my love?” Tom asked, concerned as soon he saw the tears filling your eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. I, um,” You started, wiping your tears away and wrapping your arms around Tom’s neck. “I’m really glad we made it back to this.”

“Me too, lovey. I love you so much.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“You kept your promise.” You smiled softly, making Tom’s heart ache at the memory of you not being able to trust him.

“I told you I would.”

_______________________________________________________________________

tagging some mutuals: @spideypeach @sunrise-shawn @angelic-holland @sunshinehollandd @spiderboytotherescue

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x female!reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland angst #tom holland oneshot

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cecilspeaks · 5 years

Text

153 - The Heist, part 1

Constellations are fan art depicting ancient gods. Welcome to Night Vale.

I’ve said many times that science is neat. But sometimes it is also messy. Carlos converted one of our guest rooms into a laboratory so he can spend more time at home and get some needed renovations done on his laboratory downtown. Which seemed like a great idea, until I realized that it’s impossible to contain chemical odors and stains from getting all over the rest of the house. Not only did acid eat through our new Egyptian-tiled backsplash, but also a petri dish grew feet and walked outside, only to walk back inside tracking mud all over my new handwoven Svitzian rug. The last straw was when Carlos stained all of his shirt sleeves, not to mention his hands and, somehow, even the (cords) countertops a dull green, which completely threw off my kitchen color palette. I told Carlos he had to stop, but he insisted he had made a major breakthrough in his doorless fridge invention. “Cecil, this is so exciting,” he said, bouncing up and down like a child who wants a toy or needs to pee. “The problem with refrigerators is the door. In order to put food in or take food out, you have to open the door, and that’s totally bad because it lets all the cool air out, raising the temperature of the other food inside. I told him that’s not that big of a problem, but his face darkened and he said, “Baking is an exact science, Cecil. If the butter is off my a couple of degrees, my croissants are ruined.”

I understood, but I asked that he find another place to conduct that particular experiment. He’s turning everything in our home a dull green, including his own skin. Fortunately, my sister Abby and her husband Steve Carlsberg just bought a new house. Ever since his promotion to vice president of the Last Bank of Night Vale, Steve has been saving up to buy a larger home for his family, one with a yard for dogs, no stairs and wider doors for his daughter Janice’s wheelchair, and even his own man cave, where he can raise bats and cultivate rare crystals. And they finally closed on their dream home this summer. They bought Janice a car too, complete with accessible hand controls, a state of the art sound system, and a moon roof that closes automatically at night so you never have to see that awful moon. Anyway, there is also a giant empty storage shed out back of their new home, and Steve and Abby told Carlos he can work in the shed until his laboratory downtown is ready to use again. So far, it sounds like everything is working out fine for Carlos, although he did accidentally leave a large green handprint on Janice’s new car. The good news is, she thought it looked really cool, so she decided to leave it.

Listeners, I’m getting word that there’s a robbery taking place in downtown Night Vale. Three people have entered the Last Bank of Night Vale and are demanding money from the tellers. The robbers are wearing masks of former US presidents Richard Nixon, William Henry Harrison, and Emma Goldman. The Sheriff’s Secret Police, as well as the Sheriff’s Overt Police, are on the scene but the perpetrators have begun to take hostages and the police are trying to negotiate. The robbers have not stated any demands yet, so the police are left to guess what they want. One officer suggested giving them a million dollars, which was (-) [0:05:52] accepted by the fellow officers as a great idea. Because, while human lives cannot be distilled down to a monetary value, a million dollars is pretty cool. But this idea was shot down by Sheriff Sam, who pointed out that the department does not have a million dollars. “What if we got them a puppy?” another officer offered up. “My basset just had a litter and I thought we’d be able to sell them, but it’s definitely a buyer’s market out there for hounds,” the officer continued. “Anyway I’ve got a brown one with white spots and two white ones with brown stops. I’ve named the Chutney, Footstool and Bob Ross. Footstool is the runt, let’s give them Footstool.” “We’re not giving them puppies,” Sheriff Sam shouted. “Oo, what about an Applebee’s gift card?” another officer said. “Worth a million dollars.” “Or a coupon book for free favors,” another said, “like repainting the guest room or raking leaves or – oh, wait, we’re the police right? A free crime day! They, they could use that coupon today, and we don’t have to arrest them and file all the paperwork, and the hostages get to go free. We could even have a coupon for a 15 minute backrub.”

All of the officers clapped for this idea, not just a win-win but a win-win-win, for the hostages, the robbers and the police. All except Sheriff Sam, who silenced them all with a loud whistle. More like a pan flute, really. It’s an enchanted whistle that causes vocal cords to stop working. “We are police,” the Sheriff scolded. “It is clearly stated in our oath of office to never give backrubs to bank robbers.” They then set to work trying to devise a plan to stop the robbery and free the hostages in the bank. Oh dear. Uh, listeners, I was just talking about my brother-in-law Steve, and here comes this terrible news. Um, I have no further information about Steve’s condition right now, nor the other citizens who are being held at gunpoint inside the bank. I will update you as events progress.

In the meantime, let’s go to sports. The Night Vale high school Scorpions opened their season this Friday against the Whispering Forest Wood Dogs. Scorpion’s head coach Latrice Beaumont said this will be a tough match up. The Wood Dogs, a team entirely comprised of trees, are roundly regarded as one of the toughest defenses in the state, with their tactic of whispering compliments to opposing players, until those players themselves turn into trees. Last season, Whispering Forest dealt to Night Vale its only loss, as nine of the Scorpions starting offensive players, including quarterback Junius Duncan, were won over by the Wood Dogs’ pleasant cooing. By the end of the game, the field was covered in trees, many of them former Night Vale high school student athletes. And Whispering Forest snuck out with a 3-to nothing win on the late field goal, that was somehow kicked by a tree. Coach Beaumont says she plans to give her players ear plugs to help dampen the whispers from the Wood Dogs’ defense. She also has uglied up the Scorpions’ uniforms adding mustard yellow and hot pink argyle atop the dark purple jerseys, hoping that the arborial defenders will find little good to say. The Scorpions are starting a new quarterback this season, sophomore (phenome) [0:09:20] Julie Dobbs, who won the job because of her prophetic dreams. Her slumbering subconscious is able to see the future, most notably other teams’ defensive strategies. She also uses her dream journals to develop a nearly unstoppable offensive game plan. She also owns her own football, which was a huge plus for the coaches. Good luck this weekend, Scorpions! We’re pulling for you.

I now have the names of the hostages being hold at the Last Bank of Night Vale. Jesse McNeil, a security guard who has worked at the bank for nearly 50 years, oh Jesse. What a sweet old man. He says hi to me every time I go there, always has a smile and a compliment. Why, just the other day he said to me, “Heard you on the radio, Cecil, and I was beaming with pride.” Another hostage, bank teller Genevieve Daly, who started at the bank this week. Oh Genevieve, what a tough break. Just now that we’re pulling for you. Bank customer and dinosaur expert Joel Isenberg. Oh Joel, I know Joel! He’s such a smart guy. And the last of the hostages: staff supervisor of the bank, Susan Willman. OK well, tough.

Unfortunately, after several grueling minutes, negotiations between the sheriff and the robbers have broken down. So the police have decided that the only way to break the stalemate is with physical force. While this makes sense in chess, I don’t know if this is such a good idea for hostage negotiations, listeners. But the police have advanced into the building to engage the thieves directly.

Witnesses reported hearing several gunshots, but they said the noises could also be fireworks, part of the day long celebration of Lee Marvin’s 31st birthday, which was back in June. Oh. Happy late birthday, Mr. Marvin. You don’t look a day over 30.

We cannot see inside the bank and no one has emerged yet. I will have to report back later as soon as I have – oh no wait, wait. I’ve been told that the bank is on fire now. The west wall of the bank is engulfed in flames and the Night Vale fire department is already on the scene. They are shouting at the fire to stop being such a nuisance, but the fire does not appear to be listening.

Oh, this isn’t good. And even more frightening for me, I did not see Steve Carlsber’s name on the list of hostages. Abby told me he was at work today, but why was he not taken hostage? I can only hope he had gone to lunch when the robbery began. Steve, if you hear this and you’re at lunch, don’t go back to work, it’s on fire. I feel so powerless. All I can do is hope And bring you the weather.

[My Friend” by Dominique Chantel Worthing with Barrett Ward, https://soundcloud.com/dominique-worthing ]

First, the good news. The hostages have been freed. Inside the bank, the police drew their weapons on the robbers, but could not get off a clean shot because of the hostages blocking their line of fire. The robbers fired back, forcing the police to retreat behind a Coinstar machine and a full sized promotional cardboard cutout featuring a hooded man, his jagged smile just barely visible in shadow, holding a raw slab of red meat with the bold tex below him reading: “Great mortgage rates are inside of you”. But the second wave of officers blocked the thieves’ escape from the front entrance. Then, and Sheriff Sam did not see how this happened, but a fire began in the bank lobby. It spread quickly and the room filled with smoke. In the confusion, the hostages broke free from their captors and the robbers ran from the police. Fire engines sprayed water and broadcasted loud admonishments at the fire to knock it off already.

Susan, Joel, Genevieve and Jesse ran out into the street covering their faces, choking on the black air. As Jesse emerged, his 75-year-old body was knocked backwards by one of he fire engines’ hoses. Jesse was soak head to foot. The firefighters apologized, but Jesse merely brushed himself off and then generously complimented their work by saying, “I see you’re fighting a fire.” What a gentleman. The three perpetrators of the bank robbery also fled through the front of the building, but the police quickly halted and arrested them. As the fire finally subsided, amidst the damp charred masonry and broken glass, came another figure. Steve Carlsberg emerged from the bank, sweating and limping, but safe. An ambulance arrived to take the survivors to the hospital, but they all declined, except Steve who had a broken foot and gladly took the EMTs up on their offer. The bank robbers were transported to the abandoned mine shaft outside of town for questioning. It’s an open and shut case. The bad people lose and the good people win, and every single person, even the people who own Applebee’s, is glad no one had to purchase a one million dollar Applebee’s gift card. My brother-in-law is safe, as are his employees and customers. No one died and not a single dollar was taken from the bank registers at the front counter, nor the ATMs, nor the Coinstar. Even the fire didn’t damage those bills.

That was the good news. The bad news: as the police did a final sweep of the bank, searching for anyone else inside, whether they be customers or criminals, they reached the bank’s vault in the back of the building. Before he left the hospital, the police asked Steve Carlsberg to open the vault for them. “We’re sure everything’s fine, “they said. “It’s routine in a bank robbery,” they said. “I understand,” Steve said. He opened the vault, they looked inside, and they saw nothing. Millions of dollars in bills and gold were gone. Sheriff Sam said there’s a conspiracy here, and they’re going to really put the screws to the people they arrested. “No HBO until they explain where the money from the vault,” the Sheriff declared. And that’s a big deal, because a black lady’s sketch show just premiered last month and is crazy good. The Sheriff said they have no clues yet as to where the money in the vault went, but they did discover the robbers’ names are Richard, William, and Emma. Which is interesting because those are the names of the presidents whose masks they wore. “I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” the Sheriff said confidently. The bank lost a great deal of money today and some innocent people lost their sense of comfort, but we are all still alive. At least those in this story are, and I’m so happy to know my brother-in-law is safe, as are Jesse and Joel and Genevieve, whom I’ve never even met. I’m glad those specific people are OK as well as anyone else who was taken hostage today.

Stay tuned next for an unedited recording from two years ago of you talking to a kitten. You sound ridiculous.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Don’t go writing metaphors. Please stick to the similes and literal descriptions that you’re used to.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wtnv transcripts #episode 153 #the heist #the heist part 1

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sunrisespidey · 5 years

Text

ceo!tom

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: ceo!tom falls in love with smoothie-loving intern, y/n

word count: 5.9k im sorry

a/n: i’m literally never writing shit like this again wtf?? the ending is so rushed and i’m rlly sorry but i got so bored of this i just wanted it out and done with. it was 14 pages on google docs bye

it’s a different style that i usually write in, but i wanted to branch out so idk let me know what you thought about it?

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP! I WORKED ON THIS FOR LIKE A WEEK

warnings: swearing, long read, and unedited

masterlist ♡

Y/N’s made a mistake.

Or at least, that’s what she thinks, staring up at the daunting skyscraper that towered before her, with the large Holland and Co. sign glinting under the bright glare of the sun. How had she ended up here? Her, a struggling college student, and yet here she was, interning at one of the biggest business firms in England. It really didn’t add up. It’s all been a blur. She remembers getting the phone call, being told to arrive at, and she quotes, “7AM on the dot, tardiness will not be tolerated”, and it’s almost as though she’s reliving high school all over again, only this time around, her future is actually on the line.

Which is probably why she’d dragged herself out of bed at 4 in the morning, and then proceeded to spend an hour pep talking herself in the mirror. Was it too late to back out now? She figures if she turns back and leaves, she can probably make it back to her apartment in 20 minutes flat, and then she can call in faking an illness or whatnot. After that, she can stay in, snuggled up to her cat, Dusty, and stay curled up in front of her tv with a warm mug of hot cocoa in her hands and an episode of The Office playing quietly in the background. (This, she decides, smiling internally, is her ideal day.) She’s almost ready to give in, leaning back to book it, the idea of leaving almost too enticing. Instead, she finds herself placing one foot in front of the other. Y/N doesn’t even know what motivates her to take that step forward, the step that began to lead her to those terrifying glass doors, but she’s managed to take a second step, then a third, a fourth, and—

A rush of warmth surrounds her, sending a shiver through her body, and she immediately misses the cold outdoor winds that previously nipped at her ears. Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever wanted to venture back out into the cold winter as much as she does at this moment. Her eyes stay trained on the ground, and she dreads the moment she’ll have to inevitably look up, so she doesn’t. Instead, she studies the marble floors (they’re really nice, she should consider investing in something similar, she thinks), until she hears a voice, practically coated with sugar, pipe up.

“Excuse me, Miss?” Her head whips up, swallowing nervously, and she’s greeted by a lady who looks to be in her mid-twenties with a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face (fake, no doubt, but really, who was she to judge?), head tilted in concern. “Are you lost?”

She considers saying no just to turn back around rather than face the fire, but she steels her nerves and sends her an abashed smile. “Yeah, I am. Would you mind helping me?” And Y/N nearly cringes at her attempts to be polite but continues anyways. “I’m an intern, Y/N Y/L/N?”

She isn’t really listening when the receptionist lady answers, and she knows she should’ve, but she listens to the lady drone on, the same smile that didn’t seem to reach her eyes glued to her face, and Y/N wonders what kind of toothpaste she uses to whiten. Somehow, Y/N finds herself being whisked away and up into the elevator, where she finally starts paying attention long enough to meet a kind woman who she remembers is named Nadine and would be her shadow for her time at Holland and Co.

She listens attentively (or at least she tries), as Nadine gives her a tour of the floor, and she can’t help but wish that she brought along a strawberry smoothie. She ends up so lost in thought that she nearly stumbles into Nadine after she stops abruptly, and Y/N peeks around her to see what’s happened. She’s startled when the noise reaches her ears, and she realizes that it’s a grown man backing away slowly from an office, pleading for someone to rethink their decision.

“Please, Mr. Holland, I’ll do better next time, please—” Y/N hears the slam before she sees it, yelping quietly at the shock of it, the noise still reverberating through the office. Her eyes blow wide, mouth gaping. She hopes she never comes in contact with this Mr. Holland.

Y/N finds that the tour ends quickly after that.

It’s not that Tom’s a cruel person.

He doesn’t jerk off to the thought of firing employees — he’s most certainly not a masochist — it’s just that he works with absolute morons. So really, what’s he supposed to do when some twat from accounting screws up some simple numbers that cost his company 10,000 pounds? (it’s not like his company can’t afford it, but the thought still makes a scowl form on his face) The only reasonable choice he can make is to fire the man, and it certainly isn’t his fault if the twit stumbles out of his office blubbering about how he’ll do better. And it definitely isn’t his fault if a cute, smoothie-loving intern witnesses the whole thing, because why does it matter if a bloody intern is afraid of him? (at least, that’s what he tries to convince himself)

(spoiler alert: it doesn’t work)

It’s day two, and Y/N thinks she’s made some friends.

She’s promised to bring each of them a smoothie (“They’re the light of my life,” she’d said, “can’t live without ‘em.”), which explains why she’s currently juggling four smoothies, one for herself and each of her new friends and, Sarah, Jacqueline, and Mike, while arriving at work at 6:50 in the morning. She’s so focused on carrying the drinks, eyeing each one with a careful precision that she fails to see the man donning a crisp suit (expensive. Gucci, maybe?), and a stern expression on his face, walking in front of her. She doesn’t realize that he’s been eyeing her the entire time, face softened into an unusual smile, rarely seen around the office. And she definitely doesn’t notice when he stops walking — at least, not until it was too late.

It all happens in slow motion to Y/N. She watches, helpless, as the smoothies in her hand tipped, and as Tom Holland, CEO of Holland and Co., turned around to be met with not one, nor two, nor three, but four strawberry smoothies. His mouth gapes, and hers does too, a quiet but sharp “oh fuck,” spilling from her lips. She stands, motionless, for less than a second before she’s sprung in motion, leaping for the nearest towels, endless apologies spewing from her lips.

This is it. Months of effort to even be considered for this position, and she’s fucked it up on the second day.

Y/N waits, eyes closed, preparing for the inevitable blow of being fired, the humiliation she’d face (god knows the entire floor was already staring at them wide-eyed), but to her surprise, it never comes. Instead, the towels are plucked from her hands, and her eyes snap open to be met with the prettiest face she thinks she’s ever come across, amusement flitting through their eyes.

“Don’t do that again, yeah, love?” And he’s gone, strolling away from her stunned form, so casually that Y/N wonders how he can ignore the smoothie dripping off his suit so easily. The rest of the floor stare after him as well, each of them with eyes blown wide and mouths hanging open.

Tom has no idea what just happened.

He’s got smoothie dripping from his suit that — mind you — was quite possibly one of his most expensive clothing investments, and he’s not even that angry about it. He isn’t really sure what had happened. He remembers looking over at the intern, Y/N, he remembers (and god, was she adorable), and then suddenly being drenched in a thick, gooey substance that suspiciously smelled like strawberries. Had it been anybody else, Tom’s sure they’d be out of his company faster than they could blink. But there was something about Y/N that captivated him, and he isn’t sure he’d be able to handle firing her over such a trivial mistake (of course, he’s fired employees over less, but he dismisses that thought). So instead, he’d strolled away as casually and as quickly as he possibly could force himself to act, trying to disguise the red blush that would’ve surely risen to his cheeks and turned his ears a bright, piercing red. His heart had pounded in his chest, so loud he wonders if Y/N had heard it, and as soon as he was out of sight, he’d darted into his office and shut the door.

His heart is still pounding in his chest, and he has no idea how some intern he’s never even said more than three sentences to can have such an impact on him. (Tom almost considers turning to Harrison for advice, but he would prefer not to be called a sap for the rest of his life) So, he strips himself of his smoothie-soaked suit jacket and prays to avoid any future interaction with Y/N.

Of course, Tom’s wish refused to come true, because the next morning, walking into the building, he bumps into her again.

Well, not literally. He’s strolling leisurely into the warm building, shooting a tight-lipped smile to the receptionist who always seemed to be showing a ridiculous amount of cleavage whenever he came around when he hears his name being called and the sound of approaching footsteps. Turning around, he crosses his fingers desperately, hoping that it was some other employee — preferably one that didn’t make his heart skip a beat at the mere thought of them.

But he’s still met with the sight of Y/N running through the doors of the building, regardless of his desperate wishes. It only takes a few seconds for her to catch up to his still figure, and when she does, she bends over, panting with her hands resting on her knees.

“Holy fu— sorry, language. M’so out of shape,” Y/N heaves, straightening up and wiping at her head, “you’re so fast, wow—” Tom finds himself unable to respond, head dizzy from her presence. He’s pretty sure if she knew he was taking such deep breaths because she smelled so oddly intoxicating, she’d call him a creep and run away and never speak to him ever again. He thinks she smells like vanilla, which is so common that he wonders how she can make it work so well, and—

“Mr. Holland?” Y/N’s hand waves in front of his face, and Tom snaps out of his daydream to muster up a charming smile for her. “Were you listening?”

Tom hums, nodding his head to show he was interested — a common courtesy. She shot him a suspicious glance but returned his smile nonetheless. “Well,” she started, clapping her hands together, “I brought you something — to say sorry for spilling my smoothies on you yesterday.” Tom doesn’t really know what to expect, but as she reaches into her purse, he’s definitely not expecting her to pull out a small pastry wrapped in a Greggs wrapper, neatly folded into a small rectangle.

“It’s a sausage roll,” Y/N explains, pushing it into his hands, “from Greggs. I just love their sausage rolls, and I just passed one as I was pulling into work, so I thought I’d buy you one as an apology.” At this point, he’s working overtime to not consciously drool over the sausage roll in his hands, because he’s sure that Y/N would run for the hills if she saw him so unprofessional.

So, he musters up a polite nod, a smile, and a: “Thank you, love.” And she takes that as her cue to scurry off, with a wave to the receptionist who’s not so inconspicuously scowling at her, and she’s out of Tom’s sight.

He stares after her until she’s completely out of his sight, and when she’s gone, he breathes a sigh of relief.

He’s got an issue on his hands.

---

When Y/N tells her new friends about the traumatic incident that had occurred the previous day, she finds that they’ve taken to staring at her in awe, because holy shit, you’ve spilt four smoothies on the most temperamental CEO in the business and yet you’re still here. (how reassuring. mind the sarcasm.)

“Are you joking?” Mike stares at Y/N, mouth open so wide that Y/N’s curious if his jaw is achy yet. “If that were me, I would’ve been fired quicker than I could’ve said sorry. And he called you ‘love’ too? Man, you’ve got him wrapped around your little pinky finger.” (Y/N’s sure they’re just saying this to make her feel better — after all, it’s not every day you spill four smoothies on a multi-millionaire CEO)

“I bet Mr. Holland’s got the hots for you,” Sarah whispers, turning her head to make sure nobody important is in earshot (because anything can set Mr. Holland off, really), “you could probably bust up all of his cars and he’d smile at you, babe.”

“Yeah,” Jacqueline butts in, and Y/N sends her a frown because this entire time they’d been talking, Jacqueline had been quietly filing papers (or at least that’s what Y/N thought), only to realize she’d actually been listening in the entire time, “Mr. Holland likes you— like, like likes you.”

Y/N snorts, sending Jacqueline an unamused stare. “What is this, middle school? M’sure he’s just being nice, s’all.”

Sarah scoffs, raising her eyebrows disbelievingly. “Yeah, right, and I’m a millionaire,” she jokes sarcastically, glancing at Y/N with a lopsided grin on her face. “Trust me. Mr. Holland is anything but nice.”

But Y/N can’t seem to believe that. Surely, he wasn’t that horrible, right?

Days pass and Tom hasn’t seen Y/N in a while, and although he has to admit that popping out a stiffy in the middle of a business proposal at the thought of her isn’t the most enticing, he’s starting to miss her. (of course, the only interaction he’s truly had with her is the disaster that cost him a fortune at the dry cleaners, but he still admires her from afar in the least stalker-y way possible)

Most employees would find it beneficial to have the least contact with Tom as possible. It’s been a bit of a known fact that when called into his office, chances are, they’d be leaving with their belongings in a box. So when Nadine, her supervisor, tells Y/N that he’d like to see her in his office, (and in a very loud tone, at that, so now she’s got the whole office staring after her as she shamefully trudges to Tom’s office) she’s quite terrified. She’d only heard horror stories about what went on in his office, and she’s really come to love the company and crosses her fingers and toes that he isn’t going to terminate her internship. (maybe, Y/N thinks, Tom changed his mind about the smoothie incident. Or even worse, he hated the sausage rolls)

So needless to say, Y/N is just about ready to piss herself pushing open the door to his office, because she remembers what happened on her first day and she has no desire to receive the same treatment. As soon as she sees Tom, sitting in his office chair sorting a few papers, she’s already immediately blurting out a plea.

“If you’re going to fire me, please just make it quick.” Tom’s face twists into one of confusion, and he chuckles. (my god, was she dense.)

“Fire you?” He laughed, placing the papers to the side. “The opposite, actually. When your internship finishes, I was going to offer you a permanent job here at Holland and Co. Unless you don’t want it?” The grin that he offers her is so cheeky that Y/N considers saying no just to wipe the smile off his face for scaring the shit out of her like that, but she isn’t nearly rich or petty enough to refuse such a huge proposal. So instead, she nods eagerly, holding in a squeal that threatens to burst out of her throat, and thanks him profusely. What Tom doesn’t expect is for her to pull him into a tight hug, and he’s floored. (he realizes that he really enjoys her hugs.) When she’s pulled back, her face has contorted into one of embarrassment, and she mumbles an awkward apology before she escorts herself out of the door.

(Tom’s grateful, because maybe then, she wouldn’t have seen the blush that tinted his tan cheeks a rosy red.)

Tom has a problem.

He’s found that he’s got a crush on one of his company’s interns, Y/N. A real, massive, red-faced, crush on her. In fact, he’s found himself looking forward to seeing her when he can — even though he only sees her a handful of times in a month — and yet, he feels an oddly joyful twisting in his gut when she directs that brilliant smile of hers towards him. He’s realized that she’s weaseled her way into his heart and life, and truth be told, he really has no problem with it. Even embraces it, at that.

So yes, he’s got a problem.

Tom is absolutely fucking exhausted.

He’s just about ready to go home, make himself a cuppa, and crash in his obnoxiously soft bed. He’s sure that the company is empty by now because it’s well over the time they get dismissed, so he stumbles out of his office before closing and locking the door. Tom scans the room a final time, ready to leave, but his eyes catch a dim light left on in the back, and he rolls his eyes to go check, annoyed at whichever wanker decided to leave the lights on before they left. So he’s certainly caught off guard when he comes across Y/N tapping away at her computer, sat in her little cubicle.

“Y/N?” Tom asks cautiously, brows furrowed. He has no idea what she’s still doing here, especially since she was supposed to leave at five and the sky outside has already darkened drastically.

“Holy fucking shit—” she screeches, her arms jerking up to cover her mouth, “oh my God, Mr. Holland, you scared the shit outta me.” He finds it quite adorable that she’s sitting there, eyes wide, a hand placed on her heaving chest.

“What’re you still doing here?” Tom questions, because he hasn’t known a single person who would stay past the time they were supposed to return home, and he wasn’t expecting an intern of all people to do so at all.

“I was gonna leave soon, promise, s’just that I almost had this done, so I just wanted to stay to finish it.” Tom nods thoughtfully, switching his briefcase from his right hand to his left, and beckons her to follow him to the parking garage.

“Well come on then, I’ll walk you to your car.” And although Y/N appreciates the thought, (a foolish one, to be honest, because what university student can afford a bloody car?) she shakes her head.

“Well, I was just planning on walking home, because it’s not too far, y’know, and—“

“No way you’re walking home at — 9 at night!” Tom scoffs, checking his watch. He’s gotten way too attached to her to let her put herself in any sort of danger, so he proposes the only idea he could think of in the spur of the moment— “I’ll drive you home, darling.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Mr. Holland,” she protests, shaking her head wildly, “besides, I’m sure it’s not even on the route, so—“ He interrupts her yet again, (a repeating occurrence, she realizes) shaking his head.

“Nonsense. Come on, now. The sooner we get you back, the better.” And with that, Y/N watches him turn around, followed by her trailing behind him like some sort of lost puppy.

It’s not long until they arrive in the parking garage, but Y/N sees a stunning Rolls Royce and gushes over it internally. She’s ready to pass it by, wave goodbye at it, (call her dramatic, but it isn’t every day you can admire a sleek red Rolls Royce in person) but instead, they stop in front of it.

Y/N, who experiences an odd sense of deja vu, crashes into his sturdy back in response. Tom raises an eyebrow, amused, and shoots his hand out to steady her. “Thank god you didn’t have any smoothies this time, hm?” Y/N watches as he moves to the driver’s seat, opening the door, but pauses when he catches sight of her frozen figure.

“What’s the matter, love?” He grins, his hand resting lazily on the open door. Y/N stays where she stood, too terrified to even approach the vehicle (because let’s be real, if she fucked anything up, she’d have to sell every single one of her internal organs to pay it back).

“Oh—Oh fuck— sorry, but shit, Mr. Holland, there’s no way you can expect me to get in that car,” she swallows, backing up slightly, “that’s gotta cost more than I would if I sold myself on the black market.”

Tom simply chuckles, and Y/N’s heart sort of bursts at the sound since it’d been her first time hearing the joyous sound. He ducks his head to crawl into the luxurious car with a simple, “Alright, doll, just get in,” and she practically scrambles to the passenger seat. (as reluctant as she was, she wasn’t thrilled to walk the long trek home in the slightest.)

She’s barely halfway inside the car before she’s already cramping herself to occupy a smaller area of space despite the spacious interior. Tom notices at the same time, tilting his head as he watches her cautiously press the seatbelt into its buckle as if she’d shatter the buckle with too much pressure.

“You look like I‘ve just forced you into an airtight box, love.” He mutters casually, placing a hand on the back of her seat to reverse out of the garage, “Loosen up for me, alright? Where am I dropping you off?”

She gives him an address, and he programs it into his phone. “Well, look at that, darling, you’re right on my route home.” (he’s lying, but she really doesn’t need to know that they essentially live on opposing sides of London, because the last thing he wants her to do is to leave and walk home) He can see her exhale a sigh of relief and grin, and that alone is enough for Tom not to feel an ounce of regret about his choice.

In hindsight, this was a great idea.

Now, Tom’s not too sure, because she’s got the radio on now, and she’s singing like nobody’s there and it makes Tom’s heart grow three sizes too big. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s starting to fall for her, further than any point of return, and if anyone saw them in that car in that very moment, they’d see him staring at her with the softest gaze anyone had ever seen on the seemingly apathetic CEO in a long time.

It’s when they approach Y/N’s apartment building that something happens. Y/N whispers out a thank you, and she’s almost out of his car, that Tom catches a glimpse of her phone wedged in the cup holders, and he reaches out for her wrist, calling out for her to wait. He doesn’t expect her to unceremoniously tumble back into his car and lap with a squawk from the sudden tug on her wrist.

“S—Sorry!” Tom yelps, a flush crawling up his neck, and it’s then that he realizes how close their faces were. If he were to lean down in the slightest, their lips would meet and— “Your phone! You forgot your phone!”

Y/N never really had the ability to think rationally in unforeseen situations. Which is maybe why she can’t help but lean up and press a quick kiss to his lips, stunning into silence, but it’s not even her fault, truthfully! (it is, but she tries to give herself the benefit of the doubt) She’d never seen him so uncomposed and flustered, and it was honestly the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Her eyes blink at her sudden bold attitude, and then she’s scrambling out the car, maneuvering herself in a way that she wouldn’t headbutt Tom, and she’s gone, running into the building with a loud stuttered “sorry!” Tom loses sight of her, still staring after her, dazed, one singular thought running through his head.

Holy fuck.

Tom calls Harrison as soon as he gets home. Harrison arrives in ten minutes flat. (“God, you’re such a drama queen. I’m on my way.”)

“C’mon, mate, don’t just stand there and call me a sap, what do I do?” Tom groans, throwing a toy to Tessa who lay on the couch beside his body, staring at him with a peculiarly knowing look, and Tom groans again because even his damn dog knew about his dilemma.

“She probably likes you, you div,” Harrison grins, raising his voice to imitate Y/N. “Mr. Holland is just… so hot! I dream about kissing him every night!”

“Oi, come off it, you dickhead, she doesn’t even sound like that,” Tom mutters, shoving Harrison to the side. “Probably didn’t even mean shit to her, just like, a friendly kiss or summat.” Tom knows it was more than that. If the amorous gazes and gestures were anything to go by, it would be easy to mistake them as head over heels for one other (unfortunately for them, it’s not exactly a mistake to assume they’re goners for each other, because it’s absolutely true).

Harrison shoots him a look. “Yeah, mate, I kiss all my friends too. S’just a normal friend thing, innit? Now c’mon, gimme a nice smooch.” Harrison teases, puckering his lips to make obnoxious smacking noises towards Tom. He’s met with a pillow to the face, and he laughs, throwing his head back. “You’re so whipped, mate.”

Maybe just a little, Tom thinks.

The next morning, Tom’s prepared to man up and do something about his hopeless crush on Y/N. He’s got his entire speech planned out, in fact.

He’ll start it off by handing her a muffin. Chocolate chip, to be specific. And then, he’ll woo her with a romantic speech, as follows: “Y/N, I think I’ve liked you ever since you spilled those drinks on me. I’ve been wanting to ask you to dinner for a while now, and the kiss we shared last night was amazing. So, will you go out with me?” (it sounds better in his head, it really does)

But none of that happens, because when he catches her eye, he beelines for her and they both let out a rush of words at once.

“I brought you something—“

“Last night was a mistake—“

Tom stops, mouth drying at her words. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Holland, that was so unprofessional of me to kiss you. We can just forget it ever happened if that’s alright.” And Tom’s mouth snaps shut, his hopeful words dying on his tongue before they could escape. Y/N stood in front of him, wringing her hands, a smoothie by her side. “I brought you a smoothie to apologize — you seemed like a Berry Blast kind of guy. Hope that’s alright.” She hands him the smoothie, unaware of Tom’s internal battle because damn it all to hell, he so desperately wanted that kiss to mean something to her and no, he never wanted to forget about it. He sends her a pained, restrained smile, accepting the smoothie she holds as a peace offering and tries to retreat to his office.

“Wait, Mr. Holland!” Y/N cries out, running to tap his shoulder, “What were you saying? I cut you off earlier.”

Tom carefully hides the chocolate chip muffin behind his back, shaking his head. “It was nothing, you took the words right out of my mouth.” Tom laughs, and yet the sound is so forced it almost makes him wince. Y/N’s smile drops for the slightest moment before it’s up on her face again.

“Oh, alright then!” She smiles, waving her hand towards him, “Have a nice day then!”

Tom decides he most certainly will not.

“You guys are such bloody wankers!” Y/N cries as soon as she reaches her cubicle, “Y’said he liked me! And just now, he told me that he wanted to forget about the kiss too. God, I’m so humiliated! I might as well just go on and die from humiliation now—“

“Okay, babe, chill,” Sarah tries, but to no avail.

“—I can see the headlines already! ‘Intern kisses boss, gets rejected and dies.’ Fuckin’ hell—“ Y/N’s mini-rant is cut off by Sarah’s hand coming to clamp over her mouth, muffling any sound, but quickly yanks her hand back at the feeling of Y/N’s tongue licking a stripe across her palm.

“I’m sure everything’ll be fine, no harm done. He’ll forget about it in two days flat, promise.” Sarah reassures her, patting her back awkwardly.

“For fuck’s sake, mate,” Tom grumbles, head in his hands, “you said she was into me!” Tom’s in shambles because as far as he knows, he’s just humiliated himself in front of the girl he’s taken a liking to.

Harrison laughs at his distressed state teasingly, tossing a pen in the air and catching it to cease his boredom. “M’sure she was just doing what she thought you’d want — hope you realize you aren’t the most approachable guy.”

“Fuck off, you div,” Tom mutters, tossing a highlighter at Harrison’s head, “I resent that, mate.”

The next time Tom interacts with her, it’s not for at least a month. (he needed the time to shake off his humiliation.)

It’s so similar to the previous time that it makes Tom’s heart clench at the memory of her soft lips on his. This time though, it’s because the weather outside was pouring buckets that flooded the streets and soaked everything in contact. So it’s not even a question of ‘maybe’ before Tom’s already insisting on driving her home.

“Love, there’s no way in hell that I’m letting you walk through that rain,” Tom tells her, already pulling on his jacket. “Now c’mon, what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t drive you home?”

Y/N reluctantly agrees, shutting down her computer and picking her purse up from under her desk. “Alright. But you’ve got to promise me that I’m not a bother, Mr. Holland.”

“Never,” Tom promises, placing a hand on her arm to gently guide her to the exit. “D’you want me to pull the car up? I know it’s raining pretty hard out there, don’t want you to get wet or summat.” He picks up on his unintentional innuendo too late, his cheeks and ears flushing a thorough red blush. “Not—not like that, I mean like—”

“No, no, it’s alright, I can survive a little rain.” Tom’s never been more grateful for Y/N ignoring his slip-up, because he’s sure that if she’d acknowledged it, Tom would’ve stayed red for the next century or so. (get it together, he tells himself, she’s just a girl, and you’re not a virgin, you moron,)

The drive to her place is quiet apart from her loud singing, but the real dilemma comes when they pull up to the door.

“For fuck’s sake, I—ugh.” Y/N groans, hand leaving her purse dejectedly. “I’ve locked myself out. Don’t even have a spare key.” Tom’s headgears are already turning before she can finish her sentence. “S’alright, I’ll just call my landlord and sleep with a neighbour or something.”

“Why don’t you come sleep at my house?” Tom offers, and Y/N is quick to refuse, insisting that she’s already a bother, and she wouldn’t force him to deal with her presence any longer. “I already promised you weren’t a bother, darling.”

When Y/N buckles up her seatbelt again, she’s expecting Tom to just continue down the road, but instead he makes a swift u-turn and drives back down the same road the came from.

“Mr. Holland! You told me my apartment was on route to yours — why’ve we turned ‘round?” She gapes, head spinning to look back through the window towards her flat. Tom gives her a cheeky shrug, flicking his windshield wipers to a higher speed as the rain came down harder and obstructed his view of the road.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” he mutters, sending her a smile. “Plus, that’s Tom to you outside of work — Mr. Holland is my dad, love.”

Tom doesn’t know how he’s gotten into this position.

He’s got Y/N in his arms, sound asleep, wearing his shirt, sleeping on his bare chest, and his mind is still hazy from the kisses they shared that night. He remembers how they walked into his penthouse, and Y/N had gushed over everything inside, (“holy shit, Mr—Tom, you have a fucking fluffy bath mat? I’ve always wanted one!”) and awed over his dog Tessa, (“ohmigod, you have a bloody dog too? You’re like… the perfect man!” and Tom has to admit that he took this in a different way, because he would love to be Y/N’s perfect man.) Tom had set up his Netflix for her to browse as he prepared them both a warm cuppa, and he’d returned to see Y/N and Tessa cuddled up in a blanket he’d brought for her. The sight tightened his chest, and really, everything from there is a blur.

The main part that he remembers is that they kissed. (and oh, did they kiss)

“You’ve driven me bloody insane, darling,” Tom admitted, pulling her in for a kiss that frazzled her nerves and curled her toes. Y/N’d pulled away, gasping for air, and Tom trailed light kisses down the length of her neck, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist.

“What’re we doing, Tom?” She’d asked between kisses that he’d pressed to her face.

“What I’ve been wanting for a long while, love.”

And here he was, her head heavy on his chest, nose tucked into the crook of his neck, and Tom’s never felt more at peace. Y/N blinks awake, yawning softly and blinking blearily before she readjusts herself, pulling her body to lay on top of his.

“You’re my… my pillow now, m’kay?” She murmurs, reaching up to press a kiss to his jaw.

Tom smiles, tightening his hold on the sleepy girl, humming. He’s pushing her hair back to kiss her forehead, and Tom decides that he’s never been happier.

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