#16 year old me id yelling at you

[divinityandfanfics]

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

God of Time, May You Curse Me?

PRODUCT INFO . when a celestial being falls in love with a mortal, he finds it bothering, so he asks the God of Time for something that will forever change him.

Megumi Fushiguro was the adopted son of the well known being, the God of Time. Due to him being the “son” of Satoru Gojo, the said god, and because he is able to summon beings, he is named as the Guardian of Beings.

Megumi was ordered by his “father” to patrol the planet known as Earth, and keep the mortals in check. Though, when Megumi stood upon the blue planet, he hesitated.

It was his first time possessing his human form, and he wasn’t sure if he was gonna fuck it up or not. “Ugh, I just need to finish this as soon as possible.” Megumi sighs, before going to Earth.

Megumi landed in a remote area, seemingly an abandoned hotel. Whoo, this’ll be a good hiding place if he needs to. Megumi checks himself out, and it seems he already has clothes.

He wore a white t-shirt with black pants, paired with red headphones that were laying on his shoulders. Megumi checked a mirror, seeing his spiky, black hair present. “Okay, let’s go.”

Megumi explored the land, and he seemed to be in a place called Tokyo, in the country of Japan. Satoru never really informed him of what lies here, so he’ll be in for a tough ride.

After exploring for a short bit, Megumi stops by a highschool. He wondered how old he was in his human form, so he checked his pockets. Hopefully his human form got an ID here.

A wallet, perfect. Megumi rummages through the brown leather, reaching for a thin card to read his age; 16 years old. Perfect, so he can attend this highschool!

Wandering inside, Megumi sees someone with snowy hair, and he had a blindfold on. Huh, weird. ‘Satoru wears a blindfold sometimes too..’ Megumi thought. Is this his adoptive father’s human form?

Nevermind that, why is a boy with pink hair perfectly resembling his best friend from above? How cool, so all celestial beings have human forms down here. He spots a woman, someone he isn’t familiar with.

“Must be a mortal, she doesn’t look like any of the celestial beings.” He scoffed, walking over to the people he was more familiar with; Yuji Itadori, the Guardian of Humans, and Nobara Kugisaki, the Guardian of Matter.

“Hey, Itadori, Kugisaki.” Megumi called out, stopping beside the pink-haired male. “Ah, Fushiguro! You’re here! Why were you so late? This isn’t like your usual self!” Yuji exclaimed, tilting his head at Megumi.

“Yeah, grumpy, you always come early.” Nobara chuckled, grinning now that she was earlier than him. “Tch, stop wondering. I just got distracted on the way here.” Megumi mutters, gaze drifting to Gojo talking to Nanami.

“Distracted by who?” Yuji teases, poking his shoulder. “Tsk, get off me, weirdo.” — “What’s the big mission all about?” Megumi asks. “Oh, it’s about a girl who has the potential to be a sorcerer!” Nobara exclaimed, grinning at Megumi.

“Maybe become even better than you, Fushiguro!” Nobara laughed. “Stop with that nonsense,” Megumi scoffed, “I don’t give any shits if she is better.” Nobara chuckled, “Oo, I struck a nerve!”

As the trio bicker, Gojo and Nanami talk about this mission.

“Nanami, how can we get her to join us? She’s a normal human if you take her cursed technique away.” Gojo scoffs, head laying on the back of his hand.

“Tsk, stop losing so much hope. Obviously she’ll be willing to if it means helping people. From when we interviewed her yesterday, she seemed pretty compassionate.” Nanami objects, crossing his arms at the snowy haired man.

“Fine, make Megumi do it.” Gojo says, and Nanami sighs. “Okay, we’ll get Megumi for this mission.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Megumi!” Gojo yells from his seat, waving a hand at the raven haired man. Megumi turns to look at him, confused.

Megumi walks over to Gojo, asking, “What do you want?” Gojo smirks, pointing a finger at Megumi. “We chose you for the big mission!”

Megumi’s eyes widen, and he looks down at Gojo in disbelief. “Me? Only me?” Megumi asks, and Gojo only nods, a smug grin on his face.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It was lunchtime, the students were all happy eating and all. You stood by a balcony, dangerously close to the edge of those small railings. “They look happy,” You mutter, smiling.

“Of course they are, why are you here?” A voice behind you asks, and your eyes widen, head turning to see who it was.

Megumi was scratching the back of his neck, eyes fixated on you. “Oh,” You mumble, “sorry, do I know you?” You randomly ask, smiling nervously at the boy.

“Not really.” Megumi responds, walking towards the small railings of the balcony next to you. “So, answer my question, why are you here?”

You shudder, being so close to this man just gave you goosebumps, like he has a celestial aura around him. “Just wanted to see them from up here.” You respond, awkwardly looking down at the other students.

Megumi’s gaze drifted to you for a moment, before settling on the students below. “Yeah, it is a pretty good view, no?” Megumi asks, and you nod, “I really like this place.”

Megumi sighs, before asking you the big question. “You see them too, right?” He asks, gaze on you. “See what?” You look up at him, confused.

“The grotesque monsters, the curses.” Megumi responds, pointing at one on the roof of a building. “You see that, right?” He asks, and you nod.

“Describe it to me.” And so you did. “Uhm.. it has.. large eyes.. and.. small hands, but it has a big body—” Megumi held a finger up close to your lips, silencing you. “Okay, test passed, come with me.”

You were surprised. “Uhm, where?” You ask, hesitant. “I won’t hurt you, just come, follow me.”

Leading you close to your school’s gate, you see a man with white hair and he wore a blindfold, also a man with blonde hair that wore glasses. They looked identical to the people who interviewed you yesterday.

“Here she is, my job is done here,” Megumi says, and Gojo scoffs, “C’mon, Megumi, leaving already?” Megumi shot him a glare, ignoring him, his gaze landed on you before he left.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“What was she like!?” Nobara squealed, excited to have a fellow woman in the first years. “Shy, quiet, kind, I guess?” Megumi responds, engrossed in other things, like the book he is holding.

“Was she pretty!?” Yuji asks, before his face was shoved away by Nobara. “You weirdo! Why do you care if she’s pretty or not!?” Nobara yells, and the pink-haired male argues back, “I just wanted to know!”

As they argue, Megumi was reading his book, but not really. His thoughts were filled with you. The sight of you, your voice, anything he gained knowledge about you that day.

“Fuck, can’t focus.” Megumi says out loud, his two friends immediately pause their actions. “What did you say?” Yuji asks, and Megumi repeats, “Can’t focus.”

Megumi would say he can’t focus because of the two of his friends bickering right beside him, but let’s just say there’s a certain person on his mind at the moment.

end of part 1 :3

thx 4 reading !! more parts coming out soon, my work might delay because our city is currently getting flooded by a super typhoon :(

[falcqns]

the weight of the world (atlas has abandoned his post) chapter two

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen x Tamara Colins

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the aftermath of Tamara’s breakdown.  

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: custody arguments, Tamara is younger in this fic, chenford are still together but arent okay, parental death (not chenford), mention of parental alienation, mention of guns and violence. tagging @natashasera

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

When Tim opened his eyes the next morning, the first thing he saw was Tamara, curled up beside him. After she had broke down and yelled at him for the first time last night, he had scooped her up, and carried her into his bedroom, where he laid down with her, telling her how much he loves her, and that he was never going to leave as she drifted off to sleep.

He hadn’t even stopped to think about how everything that was happening between him and Lucy was affecting Tamara. He knew the 16 year old saw him as a father figure, but he never knew how deeply those feelings ran until last night. Seeing Tamara, someone who he viewed as his daughter, break down, scream, and yell at him the way she had last night, broke his heart. Seeing her confess the reason her parents had passed away broke him even more. All he wanted was for her life now to be happy and calm, and him not opening up to Lucy and her was clearly bringing up reminders of the pain she felt when she was barely 4 years old. He knew it wasn’t fair to either of them, he just didn’t know how to go about fixing it.

But before he could even ponder it, his phone began to ring. He glanced at the caller ID, and took a deep breath when he read Lucy’s name. He answered the phone, and sat up in bed as soon as he heard Lucy panicking on the other end of the phone.

“Luce, what’s wrong?” He asked, and Lucy took a deep breath before answering between her sobs.

“Tamara’s not here,” She said, her voice growing more and more high-pitched as she began to speak. “Sh-she was here last night but I just went to get her up for school and she wasn’t here. I-I-I tried calling her and I don’t know where she went!”

“Luce, it's okay, she’s with me,” He answered, hoping it would calm Lucy down. To his surprise, however, it had the opposite effect.

“What do you mean, she’s with you?” Lucy demanded. “Why is she with you?!”

Tim sighed. “She had a nightmare after our argument last night but didn’t want to disturb you so she came to me.”

“And you just didn’t think to tell me?” Lucy yelled. “I am her legal guardian, for god's sake! I am her parent, and it never crossed your mind to tell me that the child I have custody of was there with you, someone who does not have custody of her, and you just didn’t let me know? Are you insane?”

Tim sighed angrily, before throwing the blankets off of him, and getting out of bed. He stepped out of the room before he responded, not wanting to wake Tamara.

“Look, I get it, you’re under a ton of stress right now, and I know that I haven’t been the easiest partner, but we both know that I am just as much Tamara’s parent as you are. I know I don’t have custody of her, and no legal right to her, but it's not fair for you to throw that in my face. The only reason I didn’t text you to let you know she was with me was simply because I was focused on making sure she was okay, because she scared the shit out of me, Lucy.” He said, his voice cracking. “She came over, screamed and yelled at me, and then was crying on the ground because she was fucking terrified I was going to leave her.” He yelled, before opening the patio door and letting Kojo out, and stepping out behind him. He took a deep breath and continued, trying his hardest not to yell.

“Lucy, she confessed to me how her parents died. The only thing on my mind was comforting her because she called me her dad and she just,” he sniffled. “She needed me. She was the only thing I could focus on. I'm sorry I didn’t text you to tell you, because legally, yes I should have, but she’s my kid too, Luce. Has been since she stole your car.”

It was silent on the other end of the line for a moment before Lucy spoke again. “I’m coming over.”

“Luce,” Tim tried to cut in, but Lucy didn’t give him a chance.

“Tim, I'm coming over, and we are going to discuss this as adults, and as her parents, okay?”

Tim sighed. He had known for the past 6 years that when she makes a decision, there's no changing Lucy Chen’s mind. “Okay.” He said. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

—-

20 minutes later, the front door to his house was opening, and Lucy came in. “Where is she?” she asked Tim, and Tim pointed down the hallway to his bedroom door.

“She's in there, still sound asleep.”

Lucy nodded in response, and looked around the living room before making eye contact with Tim. “So, uh,” She stuttered. “What did she tell you?”

Tim was unsure if he should tell her. It was Tamara’s story, would she be mad that he told her first? “Luce, I dont think it’s my place to tell you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he saw the anger reignite in Lucy’s eyes. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to keep that from me too? I am responsible for her emotional and mental wellbeing as well as physical, I need to know so I know how to help her through this.”

Tim groaned. “I am not trying to keep anything from you, okay? I realized that mistake last night, and I’m sorry that I pushed you two away. I shouldn't have. But this?” He said. “This is something that has to come from her.”

Lucy laughed angrily and threw up her hands, trying to turn away from Tim, but he grabbed her elbow and turned her back.

“I’m saying that because it was awful, Lucy. It was horrible. No child should have gone through what she did, and it breaks my heart to think that our argument caused those memories to come back. I’ve already hurt her enough in the last 24 hours, I can’t hurt her anymore by telling her story.” He explained, and Lucy calmed down, seemingly for the first time since she woke up, if the way her whole body sagged was any indication.

“You’re right,” Lucy said. “I know you’re right, I-” she began, tears returning to her eyes. “I was just terrified when I woke up and she wasn't there. I thought Ray came back and did something to her.” Tim immediately shook his head and pulled her into his arms. She remained stiff, and although it hurt that she didn’t melt into him like she normally did, he accepted it. He had hurt her, she needed time to process it.

“It's okay, she’s safe.” He whispered. “I’m sorry I didn't let you know she was with me, I should have.”

Lucy pulled out of his arms, and stepped away from him. “I’m going to go lay in bed with her.” She said, “And later you and I are going to discuss a custody agreement for her because despite me being angry and frustrated with you right now, she deserves to see you, and I’m not going to alienate her.”

Tim nodded at her. “Thank you. I know I don’t deserve it, but still, thank you.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, you do deserve it. I meant what I said about how you'd be a good dad one of these days. You already are.”

—-

For the next few hours, Tim tried to keep himself busy, and keep himself away from the bedroom where his daughter and Lucy were sleeping, although it was hard. He took Kojo on a long walk, cleaned the garage, and even rearranged the food in the fridge. Eventually though, he had to go into the bedroom after Kojo ate too much grass and threw up on his pants.

He tried to be as quiet as possible as he entered, seeing Lucy passed out asleep with Tamara in her arms. He assumed Tamara was asleep too, until he stepped on a creaky floor board and it caught her attention.

“Dad?” she whispered, and Tim smiled to himself before answering.

“I’m here, bub.” he said, grabbing a pair of pyjama pants from the dresser. “I’m just grabbing a pair of pants, Kojo got sick on my jeans.”

There was rustling behind Tim as he quickly pulled on his pants, and threw his dirty ones in the hamper. When he turned around, Tamara was sitting up in bed, rubbing her puffy eyes.

“I-Is mom mad at me?” she asked quietly, and Tim immediately crossed the room and sat in front of her on the bed.

“Why do you think she’s mad at you?” He asked, reaching out to hold her hand.

She sniffled, blinking away the tears in her eyes. “I heard you guys talking.”

Tim sighed, and moved closer to her. “She’s mad at me, not you. I didn’t text her and tell her that you were with me, and when she went to wake you up for school and saw that you weren't there, she got scared, and then got angry at me for not telling her that you were safe with me. And then she kind of forgave me when I told you why she came, but then got angrier when I told her that you had opened up to me about your birth parents, but then wouldn’t tell her. So basically she’s just really angry at me.” he said, a slight smile on his face.

“But I heard her say something about a custody agreement,” Tamara said, her lower lip wobbling. “D-Does she not want me anymore?”

Tim immediately shook his head and wrapped his arms around her. “Oh bubba, no.” he assured her. “She had brought up the fact that she is the only one with custody of you and how I should have told her that you were with me, and I argued that just because I don't legally have custody of you doesn’t mean that I'm not your parent. The custody arrangement is just so you can still see the both of us even though we’re going through a rough patch, okay?”

Tamara nodded, shakily inhaling. “Okay.” she said quietly, before glancing next to her at Lucy, and then back at him. “Do you think I should tell her?”

Tim shrugged. “It's up to you. I think that it’s important that you tell her, so that she knows how to properly support you through this, but if it's too hard for you to talk about, then, don't put yourself through that.”

Tamara nodded again. “I think I should. She deserves to know.” Tim pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Okay. I’m going to run out and get groceries, do you want to come?” He asked, but Tamara shook her head.

“Nah, I’m going to wait for Mom to wake up and then I’m going to tell her,” She said, “Just, rip the bandaid off, i guess.”

Tim nodded, a small smile on his face. “Okay.” he said. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Tamara nodded as she laid back in Lucy’s arms, her head finding her mom’s heartbeat. “Okay.”

—-

Just after the door closed behind Tim, Lucy stirred, her eyes opening and finding Tamara immediately. “Hey, you.” She said quietly. Tamara looked up from where she was scrolling on ClipTok, and locked her phone.

“M- Lucy!” Tamara said, and smiled when Lucy wrapped her arms around her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming here.”

Lucy sat up. “I don’t want you to apologize, okay?” She said, reaching dow and stroking Tamara’s cheek. “I’m just glad you came somewhere safe.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

Lucy smiled. “No, of course I’m not mad at you. You needed your dad, and you came to him.” Lucy blinked back a tear. “I’m glad that, despite how hard things are between Tim and I right now, that you have him to come to. I could never be mad at you for something like that.”

Tamara nodded, and sat up too. “What did he tell you about last night?” Tamara asked.

“Not much. He just said that you yelled at him, cried, and then told him what happened with your birth parents.” She said, “He didn’t tell me much, even though I pretty much demanded he tell me, but he was insistent that it's up to you whether you tell me or not.”

Tamara nodded, looking down at her hands. “I want to tell you.”

Lucy shook her head and moved closer. “You don't have to. It’s all up to you whether you tell me or not. I don’t want to push you, okay?”

“No, I definitely want to tell you.” Tamara said. “The only people who know are my social worker, and the cops who worked the case. And, Dad, now I guess.” She looked up at Lucy. “I think it’s important that you know, since you’re my mom now.”

A smile broke out on Lucy’s face, and she reached her hands out towards Tamara’s where they were resting in her lap. “Did…did you just call me ‘mom?’” She asked, shakily.

Tamara bit her lip, her chin quivering slightly. “Yeah, is that okay?” She asked, uncertainty in her voice.

Lucy nodded, sniffling. “Okay? It’s more than okay. It’s…the greatest give you could give me. I’m honoured that you chose me to be your mom.” She whispered as she wrapped her arms around Tamara. She pulled Tamara down onto the bed, and the two of them wiggled around as they got comfortable. “Okay, now,” Lucy said, pressing a kiss into Tamara’s hair. “Take your time, and let me know if you need a break.”

Tamara nodded before speaking.

“When I was four, my parents got into a huge fight. I mean they got into fights all the time, but this time was different. My mother had been cheating on my father with their dealer, who was also my fathers best friend. He had come home and found them in bed together, and my father lost his mind. I ended up hiding in the closet because I didn’t want his wrath turned onto me, and as I was trying to block out the noise when I heard my mother scream.”

She paused to take a deep breath in before continuing. “She kept asking him to stop, to calm down, telling him that she was sorry, but he just kept screaming at her, calling her names, and telling her that she was a dirty cheater. She kept screaming, and then he started screaming louder, and then there was a gunshot. It was quickly followed by a second gun shot and then everything went dead silent. I didn't leave that closet until the cops carried me out of it.”

Lucy sniffled and choked back a sob, hugging Tamara tight to her chest. “Oh baby,” she whispered into Tamara’s hair. “I'm so sorry you had to experience something so terrifying. You're safe now. You're with us, and nothing will ever hurt you again."

Tamara sniffled, trying to stop her tears from falling, but when she heard Lucy start to sob, she couldn’t stop them.

“You were just a baby,” She said, her hand running through Tamara's hair. “You deserved to be loved and protected, not hurt like that.” she whispered. “Thank you for telling me that, even though it was probably hard to open up like that.”

Tamara nodded. “The reason I came here last night was because I dreamt that instead of my mother and father, it was you and dad. I knew Dad would never do something like that, and I was scared, even though I knew it was just my mind playing tricks on me. When you went undercover on the Teska operation, I confessed to him that I had had a nightmare and he bought me Godzilla. He said ‘Just imagine Godzilla squashing all the bad guys in your dreams, and if that doesn’t work, you can always call me.’ That’s why I came to him instead of you.” She said, 'And you were exhausted, I didn’t want to wake you up.’

Lucy wiped her eyes. “Thank you for opening up to me, and for trusting me with this. For the record, you can always wake me up, okay? But I am glad that you went to Dad when you needed someone. I’m glad you’re not bottling this up. I know this isn't easy for you, but I promise you, me and Dad are going to do everything in our power to protect you, love you, and support you. We’re going to get through this, okay?”

Tamara just nodded, a small smile on her face. She finally had a family.

[kusundei]

icfucking hate you holy shit. im going to lose my mind

nk bcuz god forbid i am ever remotely upset,??? god forbid yoy yell at me every single day. lash me. critique me. find somethint always even when i am trying my hardest to appease tou and i hahe been doing this for years. i tell myself nooo sam. noo dont do it its not worth it. anger is temporary and you are not your mother. anger is never ever justified but gd fuckinf damn it. i cant with you seriously. NO BCUZ IM SORRY I “BLAMED” YOU. i amjust upset. always. you make me so upset. because i dont fucking getit??? you lie. you give me hope. make me think of maybe youll spare me. maybe ill be okay and then you take it back and i can never fuckinf trust yoy and yoy patronize me. over and over and over and i will never make it out of this hell. no bcuz i have a car for what?,? IM SORRY THE BATTERY DIED? IM SORRY I MADE JT SEEM LIKE I WAS BLAMING YOU BCUZ ICWAS UPDET THAT YOU KEEP SAYING I HAVE NO MOTIVATION? god forbid yoy dont see me. yoy dont even ficking see me or acknowledge me till i have messed yp. its so annoying because you act like i an not looking for a job. like this isjt so hard for no fucking reason that i dont want to drive. me driving is the only reason i qant that job.

god forbid i will never repair my relatiknsgip with you. there is an invisible barrier that will always prevent me from being with you and i cannot make jt. HAVING GONE THROUGH THE FACEBOOK WITH AJAX MADE ME SO. saddened. despite the fact i enjoyed mocking myself all the photos made me so sad because i put up with it for so long in order to HAVE a mother. fo have a relatinship with you ajd i always gave you the benefit of the foubt. god forbid i acknowledge thepain i put you through but you will neher acknowledge what youve done to me. lord forbid you will never take yoyr side of the blane for the reason we r like this. make a new family and ignore your old one. have a good relationship with liam and do not put him through whag i deal with because clearly yoy do not desire to ever repair what we had. “the phone works both ways” yet i have prevented mtself from condemning you over and over and over and i silence mtself . to be with you . god forbid you ever do the same? that you will ever be pkay with me????

goodness i do not care yoy r pregnant. it does not relinquish you or justify the shit you do. youve been doing this my whole life i just wished thag matbe in the past 16 yrs you would open ur eyes and acknowledge even a little bit of it. JUST GOD. god. sell mt fucking car. just do it. im never making it out. yoy said it yourself. “i do not want you to drive” then so be it. “what do you plan to do with your life?” so much. i planned so much but i always have to take it back and rethink it through because shit will neger work put for me. “you have no motivation, are you even looking for a job? if you really wanted to drive so bad you couldve at least put some initiative into it” God forbid i ever put effort into things j do. yoy forced my hand?? forced me to rush?? just to take away the only motivation i had?????? and you do it over and over and over and i keep mindlessly believing toy sometimes. god how i keep getting my hopes up with you to be shut down over and over again . i NEED. this job. i NEED. to drive. i have motivation yoy just dont see it because you do not see me. you act all high and mighty like you know eberything about me and youre “always listening” yet you dont even know what classes i am taking? you had no idea who ajax was and had no idea i broke yp w jd till months after. you have no idea i heard yoy and jonathan that night and how badly it hurt me and ruined everything. you have no idea who i am. you do not understand me and my actions and in afraid you never truly will . god i appreciate it more when you just leave me. id rather yoy know nothing than act like you do cuz thags the worst fucking part??? you act lkke you know me sowell but yoy know nothinf at all???? its sickening. god forbid i will ever stand up for mtself and explain my actions but no yoy will never listen to me regardless. im jist. so. god . sell the damn car. fuck me over. ruin my life and the only motivation i hold because im apparently not doing enough. god forbid a job doesnt just appear out of nowhere. fod forbid i try my best all the time to be met with disappointment and ridicule over and over and you have never once. told me you were proud of me. god forbid i achieve something and it is “just expected”. you are my MOTHER. couldnt you at least act like you love me like you should???? that you support me??? tell me its okay. that im trying my best. at least try to understand me and dont condemn me lver and over when all ive done js try . and i am tetinf and god in sorry its just not good enough ever???

youve stopped now. asked me about ajax to try and lift my spirits but god. i will. never. recover. i will never make it out i will never be okay with you. youve ruined me pver and over. you are the biggest road block in my life. im just so tired . why do i even try to remain motivated like this ????? i just want it to end. give me that independence you speak so much of. allow me. spare me. because god forbid i cant take it anymore

[crowwithguns]

I feel alive (I’m liquid smooth)

Prologue

accidentally deleted this post the other day so repost

Mika has always been just not good enough to get by. His grades a solid c to c+ no matter how much he worked. Finally getting adopted by a foster family only to run away at the age of 16 and not going to college.

It’s a blessing he’s able to rent this apartment in the first place. 

He sighs looking at the clock, time to get to work he supposed. He wished it was Saturday, but alas, it was Tuesday. And even if it was, he’d still be working extra time, he needs to pay back his boss for all her kindness.

OR a burnt out 17 year old Mika doesn’t think he deserves love or a family. His coworkers disagree.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mika woke up with a jolt, his heart beating fast and uncontrolled. He breath began slowly and his rapid heaving became soft.

This was a normal occurrence for Mika, waking up in a cold sweat, sometimes spiraling into a panic attack. He hates it, he used to be on meds when he was younger. But when he moved out, he had to quit them to afford more important things, like food.

See, Mika has always been just not good enough to get by. His grades a solid c to c+ no matter how much he worked. Finally getting adopted by a foster family only to run away at the age of 16 and not going to college.

It’s a blessing he’s able to rent this apartment in the first place. 

He sighs looking at the clock, time to get to work he supposed. He wished it was Saturday, but alas, it was Tuesday. And even if it was, he’d still be working extra time, he needs to pay back his boss for all her kindness.

He pushes himself out of bed, it creeks as he takes weight off of it, and walks to his clothes basket, the tile floor of his apartment cold on his feet. Riffling through the clothes and pulling out a black t-shirt and jeans. 

He goes over to the one item of clothing he has hanging off his door handle on an old metal hanger, his apron. He’s quite glad the only piece of a uniform they have is an apron. Makes it easier to dress in the morning.

He stuffs the apron in his bag, and walks to his door. Leaving his small apartment.

As he makes his way to the bus stop outside his apartment building, he begins to zone out in thought. Sitting on the bus bench, his eyes find their way to what appears to be a teen and a child on the other side of the street. It’s only a moment as they take a turn, but it’s enough to set his brain into a memory.

~^~

“Mika!!” A young child, barely 10 years old ran up to a slightly bigger teen. The kids joyful eyes met the soft blue eyes of the teen.

“Yes kid?” A slightly amused huff escaped from his lips. 

“Miss Lisa says they’ll take us to the park if we clean up the house!!” He has no real interest in the park, but looking in the child’s eyes he can see true adoration, ”you’ll help me clean right?” Silence stretched for a moment to long “rightttt??”…

“Well we better start cleaning then huh?” A smile found its way on his face.

~^~

“Hey kid, you getting on the bus or what??” A yell broke his stupor, looking up the bus has arrived, and it was pouring rain, how long has he been here.

“Oh uh- Sorry sir!” He hurries on the bus, apologizing again and walking down the lane. Taking a seat in one of the rows. The bus was practically empty, and the seats were dirty. But it was charming in its own way.

——————

Mika walked into his place of work, a small bell ringing over the door.

it’s a small family owned cafe. The owner was a kind woman named Marina, she let him work for her even if she could clearly tell the ID was clearly fake. 

He makes his way behind the counter, and into the back room. Setting his bag down and pulling the apron out, putting it on and half trying to fix his long hair.

Eventually he walks out of the back, starting to prepare the place to open, as he works his two coworkers arrive. About a hour later Marina arrives and they open the shop. 

As the first wave of people come in, he gets to taking orders. For some reason, he was the one who was always set up front. Not that he minds, if not for this fact he would never talk to new people.

But also, God Mika hopes there are less angry customers then usual.

——————

It was finally closing time, all together, Mika can say he cursed himself. 

He’ll never understand how someone can draw up the rage to yell about such unimportant things. This time there was a ‘lump’ on a chocolate chip cookie, guess what? It was a chocolate chip, she didn’t even apologize!

Although, he guesses he should count his blessings, at least Marina didn’t have to get involved. he doesn’t know if her poor heart could handle the foul language that women was using.

Before he can step out the door, a hand lands on his shoulder. He takes in a sudden breath and whips around. It’s his coworker Prancy. “Oh Jesus- Prancy warn a guy!” 

The older man chuckles, his smile wide as he begins to speak “well then it wouldn’t be much fun if I had to announce every time I'm in a room, would it?”

He laughs softly “I guess not”

“Anyway, it’s raining pretty heavily. I know you take the bus to work, but it ain’t running in this weather.” He gestured to the windows “sooo, like the great person I am, I am offering you a ride!”

Mika nearly immediately says no before pausing, it’s just a one time things, and really, he doesn’t want to get wet. “I uh, sure!”

Prancy smiles and they walk to the parking lot, running over to the car, he gets into the passenger seat while his coworker gets in driver. 

They make small talk while they drive, but eventually the conversation lulls to a halt, the night is dark, and the roads are slick. He’s happy he took this ride.

[astraldreams-ids]

id: webweaving comprised of written text and dungeon meshi panels.

1) "Q: Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted? A: No. but I once got very close. Q: What happened? A: I don't know. Everything disappears. Even dreams. I suppose I just flew too close to the sun." 2) Marcille, crying, looking at the Winged Lion's book in her hand. 3) Marcille, with open hair and a shocked expression, sitting on the Winged Lion's hand, as it talked to her with a serene expression. 4) "Very early in my life it was too late." 5) Marcille and her mother, both wearing funeral attire. Marcille is crying as her mother places a hand upon her shoulder and tells her: "You run at a different pace than everyone else. From now on, you'll have to watch as others pass before you." 6) "Because you are no longer an angel but a person all alone on two tired feet upon this earth that turns, that wakes terribly young every morning." 7) Marcille, with her hair undone and a frightened/sad expression. She is bundled up in a shawl/poncho, and ascending dark stairs. 8) The stairs are now crumbling beneath Marcille's feet as she is running and reaching out towards a closed wooden door at the top of them. 9) "[…] she left this one. (highlighted) I invented a world because death is unknowable and someone I loved was about to live there. (end highlight)" 10) Marcille, in her nightmare as a child, sobbing, yells: "Everyone gave up on running together with me and got swallowed up by it! Papa! Pipi! And Farlyn, too! Everybody!! That's why i studied magic so hard…" 11) "Desire is no light thing." 12) Marcille, with tears in her eyes, yet determined: "I want to eliminate the differences in lifespans across all the races." 13) Closeups on the Winged Lion and Marcille, continuing from previous panel. Lion: "'All the people in the world', you say… Indeed, that isn't the kind of wish that could be fulfilled with a mere half-hearted desire. However, you came to this dungeon filled with the resolution to see it through, correct?" Marcille, still crying, resolutely: "Of course!" 14) "You're addicted to loneliness and desperation. It's the strongest emotion you've ever known, so your subconscious tell you that it's your destiny." 15) Thistle, mocking Marcille in his house: "Half-breeds cannot live their lives in the same flow of time as any other race! A hundred years from now, nobody will be there to sit around a table and share a meal with you! Does that make you terrified? Is that why you desire the dungeon's power? So you can change your fate?" Marcille looks shocked, unsure, then replies: "No, you're wr-…!! That's not…!!" 16) "Still, there is this terrible desire to be loved. Still, there is this horror at being left behind." 17) Marcille, surrounded by the party's corpses. She's leaning against Laios', as if in a hug. "Did you even stop to think about what it would be like for me to be surrounded by everyone's dead bodies…?" 18) "We want to hear someone say, 'I give you my heart,' meaning, 'summer and winter,' meaning, 'all my time in this world,'" 19) Marcille, in her dungeon lord outfit, looking up at Laios: "I just want to live out my life with all of you at my side. In order to do that, is it so wrong for me to wish to keep death at bay?" 20) "Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story." end id.

Doomed from the beginning

Unknown / Marguerite Duras / Blanca Varela / Ramona Ausubel / Anne Carson / Heather Havrilesky / Michael Cunningham / Lisel Mueller / Richard Siken x Dungeon Meshi by Ryoko Kui

[jb89149]

My Story: Chapter Eight

Excerpt

1975 to 1979

A couple years before my freshman year, the state of Illinois started busing students from Markham to a high school in a nearby, more affluent, white suburb. My first year in high school, I was one of those students.

I made some new friends that year, but I only saw a few after school. They just lived too far away and winters are damn cold in Illinois. During the warmer months, I would make long walks to some close friends' houses. It wasn’t intentional, but starting in high school I began to hang around people that were wealthier than me. We just had more in common. Almost all of them read. You’d walk down the hallway during class change and see many of them had a book in addition to ones covering subject matters. Everything girl I dated in high school, read. Don’t get me wrong, while many of them read, some of these white kids were really fucked up. They were worse than the kids in Markham, as far as drug use went. My high school was the Midwest equivalent of Fast Times at Ridgemont High. A large percentage of the student body, and even some of the teachers, partied. I would start my drinking and drug experimentation during my sophomore year.

In my second year of high school we moved to the suburb where my school was located. My parents bought a house in the all-white subdivision that was located across the street from it. This is when I started to party. I was much closer to many of my friends.

Before I took any drug or even smoked pot, I read about them. (Hell, at one point I had a PDR.) No one put a gun to my head, but most of the literature was positive. Leary and his cohorts were talking about the mystical value of taking various hallucinogens. I read Castaneda, so I had to try peyote and mushrooms. NORML was lobbying for the decriminalization of cocaine. (This was before Richard Pryor’s free-basing and emoliation period.) There was a lot of nose candy in those days. It was the disco era. So…

I got a fake ID at 14, so I starting going out to night clubs and bars. I had a 16 year old girlfriend that looked like a young Cher, without the nose. Bouncers in the Chicago area were letting her, as well as a lot of other pretty under aged girls, into bars and nightclubs all the time. It’s Chicago.

Through friends of friends, I met even wealthier people that went to neighboring high schools. Some of these kids were interesting. They all drank, some of them rather heavily, and many smoked pot and took drugs.

In Illinois, we have these huge parks called Forest Preserves. During the warmer months we’d get together, open our trunks, jam out and get wasted. One particularly park was literally an open air drug market. You’d drive through and people would yell out what they had. “Four fingers lids of Jamaican”. “Hits of Mr Natural for two fifty”. Practically, everything under the sun was there except heroin. People I hung around with just didn’t do it. I knew no speed freaks either.

I kept journals all throughout high school. I made a point of writing while under the influence of various drugs that I tried. Unfortunately, those writings were soon lost after I left my parent’s house. They had some really trippy observations.

I tried a lot of different things in the last three years of high school. I even tried PCP. Don’t do this at home kiddies. It makes you feel like a robot in slow motion. It fucked up some people I know. A kid at my high school was on that shit, took an ax to both his parents and burned the house down. One of my siblings damn near died from it. Apparently, he saw God and became a born-again Christian after that.

With the exception of myself, everyone in the immediate family soon followed his lead and starting attending a Baptist church. No one in my household, as far as I know, had stepped into a place of worship for about nine years. I went a few times, but just didn’t like it. One particular preacher I immediately took a dislike to. Years later, he would skip town after stealing a bunch of the church’s money. Like I stated earlier, I never converted. I married a Catholic girl. (Vague references to that will follow in a later chapter.)

I got a little cosmic in high school.

e.g.

Aware is the man that hears

The silent song of fear

The melody of madness

The ballad of distress

The symphony of cynics

With whom I lay rest

The medley of ethereal carnage

The unconquerable ridge

I forgot; repressed most of the bad that happened to me at an early age and actually became a little naïve. The remnants of the whole hippie vibe were strong at my high school. Bell bottom Levis and concert shirts was the uniform for some students. (I would become one of those.) Between the philosophic and religious texts I had read, some of the substances that I had tried, and the zeitgeist of the times, I had this Pollyanna version of reality.

[letstalkhockey]

𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

SUMMARY: Inwhich people change, and so does summer camp. Teenagers all spending summer together; with y/n falling in love with no other than Jack Hughes, will rivalry's and rules keep them apart? Or will status and no other than Jack himself, ruin everything?

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT *I do not encourage you to go beyond this point if you are sensitive to any further topics. MINORS DNI - Violence, Smut, Indications to smut, Alcohol & substance use, swearing, cheating, mentions to serious topics, etc.

NOTE: Welcome to the Prologue, which is the shortest part to this story. I apologize for not making it longer, but this prologue gives a tiny view into what the whole story will be without spoiling it. 🤍

MASTERLIST: main m.list

𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚 - 1k+ words

Camp Michigan; my home away from home each summer since the ripe age of 8 years old. Camp Michigan had been where I spent summers, from being a camper, to now, at 16, attending camp and being a camp counselor with others my age who have been attending ever since we were young - and those new. Being at camp had either been the greatest experience of the one month you’d spend out of your two month break. Or the greatest challenge. Each year, a new decision is made. New memories are formed, and even new connections.

Camp michigan consisted of traditions, our annual yearly sleepover in dining hall, the annual late night swim, dodgeball torty - which always included someone getting injured from how competitive some people would be - the annual bonfire to kick-off the beginning, and my favorite, the treehouse, not so much a tradition, but something I created when I was younger. Only in a place where me and a few other members knew of. It was special, and I would always find myself there whenever I needed a break or a good sleep.

Each year it was one or the other, no inbetween, most of the years I've spent attending camp ever since the age of 8 years old, I found myself leaving with memories to last a life time, having spent my summers making them the greatest experiences of my entire life. That was, until the summer i turned 16, one whole year ago from right now; id been 15, getting on the bus for summer camp, my birthday slowly approaching, which had always been spent at camp, the staff would even get the other campers to help with baking a cake; even though each time it would end up in someone’s face, or awfully decorated, it still meant everything to me. We’d even have a huge party to celebrate; as if most of the summer hadn’t already consisted of fun activities, it was another added to the long list.

That was, until the summer I turned 16.

On my 16th birthday, August 14th, nothing. I mean nothing, no cake, no party, no anything. It was like any other day at camp. Except most of my day had been spent waiting around in my cabin for someone to come tell me it was all some joke, or that a surprise party was being held and they wanted to keep everything a secret. The most I'd gotten was a couple of ‘happy birthdays’ from my close friends, and even some random kids who’d I’d been with for years.

It was my 16th birthday - my sweet 16 at that. And I spent it cooped up in a cabin for most of the day, the night ending with some stupid activity no other than Jack Hughes and his weird counselor group had planned. Which had pissed me off more than anticipated. And I snapped at him. Like a full blown yelling match, he mocked me, and made me cry on my own birthday; we also got in trouble, well, I did. Almost got sent home, actually. From the moment he stepped foot to camp, he went by calling you a series of names you’d rather not elaborate on. He was only older than you by a few months, yet he acted like he had been ancient.

Jack Hughes first summer at camp michigan, was last summer. Yet he’d made friends with almost everyone, except for me and my counselor group. It was an unspoken rivalry that went back - these was always the girls group, and the guys group. Always having a leader; being me for my girls, and Jack for his boys. He’d claimed that title almost immediately, somehow robbing my good friend miles of his seniority, which was supposed to mean he was leader. But no, ‘hot shot Hughes’ flew in, having everything handed to the son of a bitch. I’ve never hated anyone more; rivalry was so on.

He was almost insufferable, I’d always assume his overconfident cocky-act was from his popular hockey captain status which he said he held at school. I couldn’t have cared less, about him or his hockey status. He’d go around acting like he owned the place when he hadn’t even been there a week. The staff loved him, but you were pretty sure that was only because of his ‘charm’, or his flirty attitude, at first, most of your cabin crew had also been head over heels for the new hot boy, but you quickly shut them down with any idea of anything happening between any of cabin A with Cabin B. Rules were rules and a rivalry was a rivalry.

I never did know if he knew it had been your birthday that day, if he planned what he had just because he wanted to make your life a living hell, or if he just genuinely did not know. I wasn’t  sure if you’d ever get that answer, and over time I cared less. I’d been too focused on the summer ahead of you and that only. Your 17th would be spent like any other this year. I made sure to plan in advance, for my own sake anyway. This was going to be one of my last years at the camp, I’d be graduating the school year to come, and be moving off to whatever was planned for myself next, so some stupid boys weren’t about to ruin that for me. No matter how many names, or flirtatious things Jack would shoot at me, i had no intent of falling for his fuck boy acts.

For that matter, my good friend, and cabin member, Lacey, had been secretly seeing one of the guys from B cabin, this past summer. Joey. It was well known between the girls cabin, although the boys not so much. A few other girls had spent time with some of the boys, but none went any further in the way Lacey had it out with Joey. A part of me only dreamed of the cliche rivalry love story, yet with the current circumstances, I’d been almost positive that was never, ever going to happen.

Seriously. Imagine, Jack Hughes, and me?

Pffft.

[bigcirclenews]

Between the Stork and Mortimer’s, Baby Café Society Packs Serafina

Mike Ghadamian is a regular at Serafina, an Italian restaurant on Madison Avenue at 79th Street. Sitting at a candlelit

Mike Ghadamian is a regular at Serafina, an Italian restaurant on Madison Avenue at 79th Street. Sitting at a candlelit table on a recent Friday evening, he took a sip of his complimentary drink and pointed to the table behind him.

“See that table?” he said in a raspy voice. “That’s table No. 50. That’s our table.” A waiter stopped to pat his back. “They know me very well here,” Mr. Ghadamian told a guest. He ordered “the usual,” penne alla vodka. “I haven’t changed my dish in months,” he said.

He smiled, revealing a mouth full of braces. Mike Ghadamian is 15. His complimentary drink: a Diet Coke.

Over the past two years, Serafina has served as a kind of dining club for the youth of the Upper East Side. On weekend nights between 7 and 10 p.m., the top floor of the bi-level restaurant–a pretty room with a brick floor, wicker chairs and a canvas roof that can be removed in the summer–fills up with pink-cheeked teenage Manhattanites chowing down on chicken paillard and $15 brick-oven pizzas as they make their plans for the latter part of the evening. Unlike their suburban counterparts, who make do with burgers and fries at McDonald’s, they aren’t fazed by Serafina’s $15 minimum food charge. “They all have mom and dad’s gold card,” said the restaurant’s general manager.

“It’s probably one of the more expensive places I go,” said Alison Goldfrank, a freshly scrubbed blond freshman at the Spence School. “But the food is amazing, so the prices are reasonable for food that great.”

“It’s a social place, and it’s nice,” said Jessica Haber, a freshman at Horace Mann School, who said she eats at Serafina almost every weekend. “It’s a bit pricey, but the food is really good,”

“The inside is cool and the food is awesome,” said Olivia Palermo, a freshman at St. Luke’s who used to go to Nightingale. “I go there maybe three times a month, and I usually see like five people I know.”

As he tucked into his penne, Mike Ghadamian looked happy. He’d had to go to a Shabbat family dinner at his grandmother’s house before he was released to go to his favorite restaurant.

At about 7:15 p.m., a redheaded 15-year-old boy, dressed in a baggy sweater and loose jeans, sat down with his older sister, a strawberry blonde wearing a gray shirt tucked into slim-fitting jeans. She looked at the menu while he talked on his cell phone. A few minutes later, two 16-year-old boys wearing baggy jeans and large sweatshirts arrived, high-fived the redheaded kid, then sat at their own table nearby. Three young women with long, straight hair came in and began self-consciously smoking cigarettes. By 8 p.m., two thirds of the room was filled with Upper East Side teens.

“Here’s how it works,” said one sophomore from Collegiate School. “We go with a big group of friends, everybody takes out their cell phones and puts them on the table, then we get a phone book and figure out where we’re going that night.”

“I always go with big groups,” said a blond, ponytailed freshman from the Dalton School. “And they yell at us because we all share plates and it’s really confusing.”

“You can always tell the high-schoolers because they travel in packs,” said Shalonda Harris, one of Serafina’s night managers. She said that nine times out of 10, she directs the teenagers to the top floor.

“I’m pretty sure they reserve the top floor for teens,” said Ms. Goldfrank, “because whenever I go with my dad, we sit on the first floor.”

The favorite menu item of most of the teens is Penne Alla Stolichnaya. Which brings up the question: If they like vodka in their pasta, are they getting away with ordering it in their drinks?

The general manager said the restaurant is strict about making sure that they only serve those with proper identification.

“They do ask for ID, but a lot of my friends have fake ones and they get served all the time,” claimed one freshman.

“Oh, they never serve us alcohol,” said Mr. Ghadamian.

“Of course not,” added his friend Steven Chase, a sophomore at the Horace Mann School.

The staff doesn’t seem to mind the teen explosion.

“So far they have never been a problem,” said Abul Waliullah, who has been waiting tables at Serafina for four years. “They’re really nice and they tip O.K.”

Mike Ghadamian finished his penne and wiped his mouth. “I get treated like a king here,” he said. “I didn’t even order these Cokes.”

N.Y.’s

Manhattan’s pampered young males are in a panic. They may have money, they may have love, but they have no Kiehl’s.

For several weeks now, well-scrubbed young men in New York City have been cursing the mysterious disappearance of Kiehl’s Ultimate Men’s After Shave Moisturizer, the cultishly popular yellow, odorless facial lotion made by the venerable cosmetics manufacturer (established 1851).

“Of course I know about it [the Kiehl’s shortage]!” said a 32-year-old Manhattan attorney who, after confessing to keeping an “arsenal” of Kiehl’s products, asked that his name not be used. “It kills me!”

A Kiehl’s spokesperson confirmed the after-shave shortage, describing it as national. “We’ve been out of stock for six weeks,” she said. “We have requests daily for it.”

Face-Men Frenzy

Manhattan’s pampered young males are in a panic. They may have money, they may have love, but they have no Kiehl’s.

For several weeks now, well-scrubbed young men in New York City have been cursing the mysterious disappearance of Kiehl’s Ultimate Men’s After Shave Moisturizer, the cultishly popular yellow, odorless facial lotion made by the venerable cosmetics manufacturer (established 1851).

“Of course I know about it [the Kiehl’s shortage]!” said a 32-year-old Manhattan attorney who, after confessing to keeping an “arsenal” of Kiehl’s products, asked that his name not be used. “It kills me!”

A Kiehl’s spokesperson confirmed the after-shave shortage, describing it as national. “We’ve been out of stock for six weeks,” she said. “We have requests daily for it.”

The spokesperson said the shortage was the result of the demand for the after-shave outstripping its production. She estimated that it would be back on shelves in New York by March 1.

But that is small consolation for the legions of New York men who–following years of post-pubescent, Aqua Velva agony–had finally settled upon a lotion for life.

“I love it!” publicist Jake Spitz, 26, said of the after-shave, which retails at $13.50 for four ounces and $20.50 for eight ounces. “It’s the first product I put on my face that worked.”

Mr. Spitz said he had recently tried to pick up some Kiehl’s after-shave as a 26th-birthday gift for his friend, the restaurant-guide scion Ted Zagat, but couldn’t find it anywhere. (Kiehl’s rations out its products to its own shop on Third Avenue and 13th Street, and to department stores like Barneys, Saks and Nieman Marcus.) He was forced to settle for other Kiehlsphernalia.

But other Kiehl’s after-shave devotees refused to take no for an answer. “I heard rumors that there was some being held under the counter at Barneys–if you know the right people,” said Boykin Curry, a 35-year-old investor. Alas, a reporter who checked that story out the next day was told firmly that no, the store had no more Kiehl’s.

–Deborah Schoeneman

Flash Fame

My girlfriend Rachel is one of those people who reads magazine listings, even though, to be honest, we hardly ever go anywhere. That explains how she found our photograph one night while flipping through the front pages of the Feb. 5 issue of The New Yorker .

We were on page 17. The photograph, by a man named Gus Powell, captured a crowded midday scene in front of the Amoco gas station at the busy northwest corner of Broadway and Houston Street. At the center was a lanky young black man surveying the intersection from his perch atop of a pair of pay telephones. Above him, on a billboard to his right, was a giant, shirtless, hairless Calvin Klein model.

I appeared in the foreground of the picture’s left side, looking upward with my left hand cupped over my eyes. Unshaven and wearing a hat advertising the then-hip, now-defunct Internet company Pseudo.com, I looked a tad haggard. Rachel, clad in overalls, was walking to my left, looking off in another direction.

“At first I just thought, ‘Hey, that blond woman looks a lot like me,'” Rachel said, “‘but she’s way too skinny.’ Then I thought, ‘That is me.’ A while later, I noticed you.”

“We’re famous,” I said.

“No,” Rachel replied. “We’re art.”

Everyone had their own take on the photograph. Rachel’s boss wanted to know what she was doing downtown at lunch. Rachel’s aunt, from Utah, had a practical take: “Wow–look at those gas prices!” she said. My dad e-mailed, comparing my physique unfavorably to the Calvin Klein model’s. (“Maybe the photographer was going for a

juxtaposition,” another person offered.)

These reconstructions were as good as ours: Try as we might, neither Rachel nor I could remember the moment at all.

When I met Gus Powell at the Ariel Meyerowitz Gallery in Soho, he understood our confusion immediately. “Kind of a Rashomon thing?” he said.

Mr. Powell was 6 feet 5 inches tall, lanky and 26, the same age as me. He looked like Milhouse van Houten from The Simpsons grown up: floppy hair, round glasses and a cashmere V-neck sweater-vest.

He grew up on East 58th Street and works as a freelance photo editor at The New Yorker (a -ha !). He said he takes most of his photographs while wandering around the city on his lunch break. (Hence the title of his series, “Lunch Pictures.”)

“You always find something that’s this ridiculous New York thing,” Mr. Powell explained. This time he was attracted to the man perched on the phone booths. Mr. Powell said he stood on the curb and began snapping pictures. “The thing that I always love is, some people check him out and some people don’t. Like, your girlfriend is checking him out.”

Mr. Powell continued: “For me the payoff is, when I’m walking and I see something remarkable, I don’t want to just nail the remarkable thing. I want to keep it in context … so then you become just as interesting. Because you help. You made the picture much better.”

I looked down at my shoes. “Well, thank you very much.”

On the way in, I had noticed that someone had already bought the photograph for $600. Apparently, that’s what being published in a major magazine can do.

This weekend, Rachel and I have a project: We’re cutting out page 17, framing it and hanging it in our bathroom.

[blackvail22]

also (this is my third or fourth post within a 30 minute timeframe btw) my dad made me uncomfortable tdy because i went to my room when my mom started yelling (by coincidence tbh i just wanted to lay down bcos i had a headache and was tired and i have no couch/sofa in my living room) and when i went down for dinner he kept asking me "what did mom say to make you mad. i know her. i know you" and it truly just made me uncomfortable and unsafe and he seemed a little drunk so itd make sense hed do that and im scared that my dad is going to cross a boundary now that i confide in him more than my mom

what doesnt help is my past!!! i have been groomed online multiple times, and--i cant believe im saying this--lying about my age saved me once. i told them i was the same age i told you (sometimes id say 16 which was SO obviously a lie). this one guy, his name was pierce (allegedly), told me "my dad needs a photo of your birth certificate in order for me to keep talking to you" (this guy was 20 AT LEAST. why would he need parental approval?) because i lied abt my age and name, OBVIOUSLY i was panicking. i thought abt doing it ngl. i was like "how am i supposed to change my birth certificate to say im am who im saying i am?" and then i thought "how the hell am i supposed to access an important document that my mom has wo her looking through my phone again?" so i was like "no. i cant do that" and he got all mad and was like "well im blocking you then" and i said "thats fine. im not even supposed to be talking to you anyways" i remember the exact date and where i was exactly during all of it and what i did afterwards (watch the heathens mv by twenty one pilots, it happened the same day as publication around 2pm)

god, pierce was such a weird guy. i forgot about him until recently. i met him on minecraft after my parents "banned" me from roblox. in minecraft he'd make me roleplay with him but like... yk... it was weird. he would make us write everything in a book and he would store all of them in a chest (there was at least 40 books of this). there was a time (i regret this so deeply) he asked me for my phone number, and i gave it to him. from then we would text each other a lot, and we would skype. i dont have any recollection of him ever talking when on skype. i think he would type everything out, making it weirder. also, i had the squeeky little kid voice so he obviously knew i wasnt however old i told him i was (i think 16). also, i very much DID NOT look that old either. i still have the photos from then... i looked so young. i could see 12, maybe? bur 16? no. i had a power outage once, making me unable to use my phone for a few hours. i had a panic attack because i was so afraid of him being upset with me (he was) and he threatened to kill himself. i didnt want to do any of the things he told me to do. i didnt want to hear any of the sexual comments he would make about me. i didnt want him to talk about how much he wanted to make me have a big family and enact all of *that* out. i didnt deserve to be treated like that, and i shouldve listened to my parents when they told me to block his number. i feel so responsible for everything that happened to me back then and even with the more recent events. i kept saying no but he kept going on about it. i shouldve just blocked them. i shouldn't have kept him in my life any longer than b told me to. i just liked the company and i didnt want to be lonely again... i didnt want it all to end up this way... *that* way. if i think abt it, i wouldnt have been bullied so extensively or experienced that thing his friend did (and they both said i was a whore) (*side note i never talked abt the thinf his frkend did and i truly do not want to talk abt the specifics!!!!!) and sometimes i think theyre right. i still have the messages from last year when he reached out to me. "i cant have forced you to do anything when im online!!!" u did though. if i blocked u or unadded you youd blow up our friends forcing them into the situation bcos u knew theyd be on ur side and theyd bully me or find a way to con me into talking to u. if i told u no, i dont want you to do that, i dont want to do that, youd call me a bitch and a whore and wouldn't stop begging for it after i said no and making me do it/go with it to make you shut the fuck up. are there a lot of things i said that i regret? yes, absolutely. honestly if he spread screenshofs out of context i would 100% be called a whore, a liar, and that i wanted it. but i only did it to make him shut up n not be pissed!!!!! seeing his name on a church sign in my town makes me shut down every time. he traumatized me NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENED he traumatized me, in more ways than just that one. it truly reversed my progression by a lot. i cant talk abt it ever because i feel like no one will believe me or blame me for it.

anyways this all contributed to the changing and and scarring of my perspective of relationships--platonic, romantic... theyre all ruined for me. i always have a wall up now, and my ex did not help that at all! actually made it quite worse. im more vulnerable when it comes to the things i like, and im extremely careful when i make decisions that involve other people. whenever someone is extremely quiet near me, i start to panic. whenever i talk about my day, im scared people will not care about anything i have to say. they dont have to care, but its nice to have ppl care every once in a while

anyways ive been typing for 20 minutes now bcos im on my phone. its nearly midnight and i have to be at the hospital at 9am for my prodecure that is at 11am. im terrified but its okay

toodles!

wait no song time

d4vd has so many good songs he's def in my top 10!

okie byebye 😁

[angeldarkrose]

Happy Confusion

I’m so happy. I am. I wouldn’t change anything about the way I’ve been doing or experiencing. Except maybe my sleep schedule. But with insomnia that doesn't work. It’s like 24/7 I have this feeling of just wanting to smile. I’m happy. Besides maybe the fact that I can’t watch my comfort movies anymore but I won’t tell anyone how much that truly affects me. I’m happy. I constantly see the sun shining and thank the universe it gave me another day. A day to write something new, to create a new makeup look, create a new outfit, do something new in general! It’s all so amazing. Especially after waiting so long to finally get up. After sobbing in bed for years wishing you had a life. I can finally drive. I’ll finally have an ID, job,permit and GED soon. Something 14-17 year old me would never imagine. Hell 16 yr old me wanted to be gone so much I failed 4 times. But I get to wake up now and make my life better each and every day. I have theme park passes, I ride what I want. I skate when I want and even up to 17 miles. Injuries won’t hold me back from that. I paint. Make art everyday. Exhaustion won’t hold me back from that. I don’t even have my bad panic attacks anymore. I can get up or even stay up without sobbing or feeling unsafe. I’m so happy. But why is it not enough for that part of my brain? The one that still hates me. I’m so confused. Why does that voice still scream at me that everyone"s pretending to like me and that I’m going to wake up blocked by everyone I love one day. Why does it yell that I’m useless? That if anyone knew about me, my past or even my old coping mechanism I’d be left. Why does that part of me yell that I deserve to be with that person who tried to kill me. Why am I not enough for myself? Yet I can look in the mirror and smile. I’m beautiful. I feel like me. I have the life I want. I have someone who makes me happy, safe, loved. Three feelings I’ve never ever felt together in my life. I’m so happy that I’m confused on why I won’t shut up. I show the real side of me. The one that says random shit, crosses her finger when happy, picks at her fingers or plays with anything in reach just to function with happiness because it’s such a big emotion. I love myself for actually being able to show that now. But why won’t that voice stop telling me that it’s going to get annoying. I’m so happy, I love myself, I love my life. But that voice hates everything around. Maybe it’s the night. I’m not sure. But I know that I am confused but happy. Why do I only crash at night? Fuck, I’m so happy I am. But at certain times I crash and it makes me look like a liar. I don’t lie about how I feel anymore. I tell the truth. I don’t know how I feel or that I’m good and happy. That’s because I am! So, why at night do I feel that voice coming back while I’m laughing. I’m happy. I’m not that voice. I will never be that voice.

[ujunxverse]

IM ON A GAP YEAR RN ACTUALLYYYYY JUST CHILLING AND READING AND ATTENDING CONCERT AFTER CONCERT LMAO 🙆‍♀️ ill be going to uni this fall tho and i am TERRIFIED but also VV EXCITED

PLS DONT MENTION 20 TO ME IN MY HEAD I AM STILL 16 YEARS OLD 😭 BUT BUT I ALSO. NEED. A JOB 😭😭😭 IM MOVING TO THE NETHERLANDS FOR UNI AND RENT 😭😭 ID BE RICHER IF I LIVED IN THE STREETS ATP

also I STILL WRITEEE !!! i kinda moved over to twitter/ao3 AND I WENT BACK TO WRITING SHIP FICS TOO FJWKDNBE ive kinda been working on a lot of things but i just 😭😭 cant focus on finishing ONE 😭😭😭

AND TELL ME ABOUT THE TAEHYUNxKAI WIPPPP AND SUNSUN PLSSSSS (ive lost my battle against sunghoon and have... begun to.. 🤒 bias 🤕 him...) AND SK8R BOI CHENJI 😭😭😭I AM HOLDING U TO THAT 😤😤

(I shouldve just dmed this to u fr 😭)

AWWW THAT'S SO GOOD TO HEAR !! honestly i wish i took a gap year before thrusting myself into uni :((( YOU'RE LIVING THE LIFE FR I'M SO JEALOUS AND EXTREMELY HAPPY FOR YOU FR !! CONCERT AFTER CONCERT IS A DREAM ESP IN THIS ECONOMY !!!! also omg you're lucky you get to experience frosh in first year cos it's MAGICAL FR !! like, you'll have the full package experience !! just go to the parties, let loose, and have fun while remembering to always opt out if you don't feel safe !!

LKASJDFLKASJ THE BIG TWO ZERO !!! but nah mad felt this economy is so brutal fr :"(( have you considered like a dorm ?? or does your uni not offer it ?? some of my friends who also went to school in the netherlands did student residence first, then moved out once they were able to get used to the country.

PLS YOU LEFT TUMBLR THAT'S SO GOOD FOR YOU THIS HELLSITE IS A MESS FR !! i tried my hand at ao3 but man idk what about the tagging system bothers me but ig i'm too used to tumblr ugh. LET ME KNOW ABT ALL YOUR WIPS HEHEHHE THIS IS JUST LIKE OLD TIMES FR I NEED TO KNOW BESTIE (also tell me your ao3 rn or else i'll pull up and pop pop skra skra)

omg okok so the gist of the taening fic (greenland is the title lOL) is that hyuka is from a long line of mushers (sledding dog sport) and he's a late bloomer because unlike his siblings, he grew up in hawaii, so he didn't really have time to adjust to the cold weather + has a soft spot for dogs like this mfer feels bad for keeping them on a leash LMAO. taehyun's family are polar explorers so he's used to traveling back and forth between the city and the arctic. absolutely hates it. meets hyuka as a kid and helps out the huening family take care of their huskies cos he's bored and his parents are busy doing science stuff. it's a slow burn f2l tale with soft bean hyuka who cries when taehyun yells at the dogs and taehyun having to remind hyuka that it's literally their job to be sled dogs LOL.

THE SUNSUN FIC AHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN i don't have a title for it yet but it's gonna be a soulmates!au thing where sunoo is literally obsessed with finding his soulmate and sunghoon being skeptical about that shit (this is a world where soulmates are just a superstition). sunoo is a dumbass and tries it all: tarot, crystals, palm reading, chinese numerology, sticks, and basically everything without realizing that sunghoon's right there the whole time. (also an ice skater au where sunghoon gets distracted every time he has to dance with a partner because all he sees is sunoo on his arms)

phew this was long neway may post these on my ao3 too cos ngl tumblr literally hates ship fics LOL

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

'Meltdown-' Nice emotional signaling to make it seem like I'm the 'angry unreasonable' one. Despite the fact I'm not the one calling people names like a child.

You're not slick.

Especially being a neurodivergent person, doing that and throwing around meltdown ain't cute.

Second Not blocked - haven't been for literal hours but ok

Also, you made a post about the person who writes long essays and then you're surprised when I wrote a long ass response???

Stop acting brand new.

Also - NONE OF THAT IS EVIDENCE.

If you can not go to the source material - the movie - and find a screenshot proving his age on screen, it's a headcanon.

ALSO ALSO - You didn't answer the question.

Why is it okay for the writer of your ship, but I'm a manchild??

Hypocritical.

- "Embodiment of a black teen."

Who said that? You? Where did you get that phrase, the writers? At what point did they say they meant him to embody a teen in specific???

Drop the link to the interview or something if that's the case.

- was a minor in the comics, (once again where's the evidence for this).

And also - He was also American in the comics. Yet he isn't in the movie. They are not equal.

- 'he doesn't get treated any different than the Spider-band

YES HE DOES.

Gwen describes him as being extremely strong and talented - hence why he's allowed to go AWOL. He breaks the shield when none of the three teens could (he's stronger than all three of them combinded).

When Miguel yelled at Gwen and Miles, he did not yell at Hobie.

- He never gets grouped with Jessica or Miguel

That's because it's HOBIE.

Even if he was their age he wouldn't hang with them because of who they are. He wouldn't let himself be grouped with them.

That's the entire point of him being him.

He had a ship tease with Gwen

By MILES who didn't know Hobie at all. So like us he assumed. Also Gwen is 16 - a 16 year old (Sophomore) having a crush on an 18 year old (senior) is not weird. Seniors dating sophomore can be weird, but a sophomore crushing on an upperclassmen is not rare.

'Called a teen in multiple sources'

**doesn't post the sources** AGAIN

If you really have evidence from the creators, with a source, of Hobies age - why are y'all hiding it. Why are y'all writing these posts but scared to say it?

I'm gonna accuse you with my whole chest:

You have no evidence. You have nothing from the movie or the creators morn confirming that they wanted Hobie to be a minor in specific.

You have no source or proof that Hobie is on-screen canonically a minor.

You people ignore that he says he goes to pubs, and it shows him in pictures at the pub, with ADULTS.

'He uses a faker ID-' That's a headcanon.

These people are CLEARLY not meant to be teenagers. These are his friends. They are grown men Hobies height with facial hair. These people do not look like Gwen or Miles.

They are adults - Hobie hangs with adults and goes to pub with adults. Almost like maybe be could be... No.. that's impossible 🤔🤔

So acting like he's some kid that only hangs with Miles and Gwen and gets treated like them ISN'T TRUE.

It's disingenuous, downplays his power, and All of it ignores multiple instances of him doing and hanging with adults for fun.

Hobie hangs with older people, he has his own place, he drinks. Yet, it's unbelievable he's an adult?

I'm not saying you can't headcanon Hobie as a minor, what I'm saying is

Summer is acting like a hypocrite by shipping a ship of teenagers written by an adult.

- and then getting mad at me, someone younger than their writers, because I write FLUFF OC fanfiction about two adults.

Y'all ignore evidence, state things as fact, call people names, and the act like hypocrites. THAT'S why they got blocked the first time.

Y'all try to portray the other as emotionally inferior because y'all are weirdos who just wanna win.

Y'all move WOCK as fuck.

(actual photos of Mariah and Diane watching them move wock)

Y'all logic make no sense. You have no evidence. Y'all are hypocrites.

I say that with my whole chest. Both are you are unblocked too.

Y'all are free to headcanon him however y'all want - but don't come waving y'all opinion in my face like I HAVE to obey and like I won't break your nonsense down line for line.

Y'all act like Miguel.

But lemme guess, you'll reblog saying a phrase like it's gospel then post with no evidence, right?

Come back with evidence and a warrant instead of a silly little meme and name-calling.

Hypocrite.

Anyway DISCOPUNK GANG GANG they in your city they playing shows they looking cute the haters mad the ops is swarming 5-0 outside and they still killing it HOW DO THEY DO IT

Op is an adult who regularly simps for Hobie and has me blocked for making posts pointing out he's canonically a minor so i don't think he's mad at about the age discourse regarding him for the reasons y'all think he is

[mewrails]

i wonder if when Adult Actors have to yell at/near Child Actors they have to explain to the kids theyre not actually mad

[magpietoriches]

LockDown Part V: Someone Who Screams,“I Want to Kill Loki.” [Revised Edition]

Summary: Loki and you try to profile who might want him dead. Turns out anyone could be part of the SFN. 

Setting: 2018 in an alternate timeline where Loki made it to Earth after the events of “Thor: Ragnarok” and Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, and Scott Lang are still on the Raft.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (First Person)

Playlist ~ Masterlist ~ Next Part

Warning: The following part includes minor references to self harm. 

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

Loki’s room

 3:00:00 until the bomb goes off. 

      I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stifled a yawn. “It says here Henry Clayford was an Explosive Ordnance Disposal specialist for the Us Army. That could be something, huh Loki? Loki?” I looked over at the god sitting next to me. He had his arms crossed over his chest. His head was thrown back, resting against the sofa. I heard him softly snoring. “Aww, he’s sleeping,” I said, in a mocking tone. 

     Loki began to stir, his head had fallen onto my shoulder. I could feel his lips brush against my neck as he subconsciously nuzzled closer. He must be out if he’s willing to sit this close to me. I rolled my eyes as his long hair spilt over me. Annoyed, I went to brush the invading strands off of me but I found my fingers lingering in their softness. I could smell the unmistakable aroma of pine and spearmint. And I carefully pressed my nose against the top of Loki’s head. For whatever reason, he relaxed further into my touch.

      Loki and I had been going through the employee files for an hour, or at least I had been. Although I did take a few breaks to see if Eric had reached out. No such luck. 

     Loki thought he would just recognise a couple of faces and call it a day. We quickly realised, whichever two men came to Loki’s room, must have worn disguises because none of them looked familiar to Loki. Without eyewitness identification to go off of, all we had to rely on were the files Tony sent us and my basic understanding of profiling, courtesy of the first 5 seasons of “Criminal Minds.”

      Any one of the 5 men could be SFN members. They all had motives for wanting Loki dead. Heck, I had a motive for wanting him dead. As adorable as he was when he slept I was going to kill him if he didn’t help me and “WAKE UP!” I yelled, pushing Loki off of me. 

     “Wha,” he sounded disoriented, “I’m awake.” With his eyes still closed he asked, “Has the bomb gone off yet?”

     “Yes,” I said sarcastically. “It’s gone off and now we’re in hell, together, because God is punishing me.” 

      “Alright. Good to know.” Loki began to settle back into the sofa.

     “Do not go back to sleep! You’re supposed to be helping me,” I admonished. I lifted the overheated computer from my lap to cool down. 

        “Our plan was for you to narrow down who wants to kill me. Then I’d review your findings.” 

      “That was your plan. I need your help now.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “It could honestly be any of them. Henry is EOD, so he has bomb experience,” I said while pulling up a photo of Henry Clayford; a 32-year-old man with brown hair and a strong jawline. “Now take Dr Arthur Dean, for example,” I opened another photo, this time of a man with chestnut coloured hair and a crooked nose, “He’s worked for the CDC, which means he has a good understanding of Anthrax.” 

      “Daniel Turner,” Loki read the ID of the next man I pulled up. Daniel was in his early 40s with a heart-shaped face. 

        “Before he worked for us, he spent 4 years working in Sokovia.” I showed Loki a new photo of a man with tanned skin and intense hazel eyes. “Stanley West here was a Detroit cop before he transferred to New York City after your attack.”

    “What about the young one? You mentioned he had a criminal record?”

       “TJ Sherwood,” I brought up the photo of the 28-year-old and angled the laptop to give Loki a better look. TJ was thin and looked 10 years younger than his actual age. “He was arrested for robbing a hardware store when he was 16.”

        “Hmm, that doesn’t seem relevant.”

         “He was accused of trying to steal bomb supplies,” I clarified. I turned the laptop back to face me. “So there,” I tried to hold back another yawn, “It could be anyone.”

       Loki scanned me up and down. I knew I probably looked worse for wear. The dress I had on was starting to feel as “ridiculous” as Loki had previously stated. My hair, which was originally swept into an intricate up-do, had come undone. 

      “You seem tired,” Loki stated the obvious. “I can make us some coffee.” 

        I held my arm out across Loki as if I were a mother protecting their child from a fatal car collision. “No, I’m going to make coffee.” I stood up, stretched my arms over my head, and wiggled my feet, trying to reawaken my body. I mistakenly thought the fear of imminent death would provide me with energy. “I could use the break. Here,” I handed Loki Wanda’s computer, “I’ve got their job interviews queued up. Watch and see if anything stands out for you.”  

      “I’m still not entirely sure what I’m looking for,” Loki said, rapidly blinking as his eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the laptop. 

       I opened Loki’s kitchen cabinets, looking for some coffee mugs. “You’re looking for someone.” I paused to examine one of the mugs I found far in the back. It had a photo of a horse on it. I looked at the bottom and saw the name “Wanda” scribbled in red ink. I was about to look for a different mug when I noticed the words on it had been chipped away to say, ‘World’s greatest ho.’ ‘Yup’, I thought, ‘This one is going to be Loki’s.’ I turned around and smiled over at the god on the other side of the room. “You’re looking for someone that screams, “I want to kill Loki.”

      “Fairly certain I’m looking at someone who wants to kill me right now,” Loki mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for me to hear. 

      “Ha,” I let out a fake laugh, “Get to work.” I inserted a pod into Loki’s coffee machine. 

      “Would you be willing to kill someone if they were going to harm an innocent person?” I recognised Happy Hogan’s voice coming from the laptop speakers. 

       “I swore an oath to save lives. I take no pleasure in taking one. But if it was the difference between saving innocent lives, then yes I would.” The voice on the other end had a faint Australian accent. I instantly knew he was watching Arthur Dean’s interview. I listened while I poured my coffee. Arthur was discussing his time with the CDC, and his work with bioweapons. 

    “Two sugars,” I confirmed with Loki as I tended to his drink. 

  Loki paused the video and looked up. “I prefer my coffee black.”

      “You prefer two sugars.” I made Loki black coffee once and he hated it. He hated it so much he smashed the cup onto the floor, demanding I make him another. I made him 3 more cups, before concluding that he doesn’t actually like black coffee. 

       “Nonsense, I’ve always liked your black coffee.”

       “You like it because I always put in two sugars,” I confessed, as I added two scopes of sweetener to Loki’s coffee.

  Loki let out a shocked gasp, “That's why it never tastes the same when I make it.”

       I grabbed the yellow legal pad I had been using to write down Senate questions, and a pen, just in case we wanted to take notes. And with coffee in my hand, I returned to the couch. Loki read the message written across his mug with a raised eyebrow before taking a sip. 

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

       “What is your opinion on the Sokovian accords?” Happy read off a piece of paper before making a checkmark.

     “Regulation is good,” TJ said. His hair was a bit longer than his ID photo. He leaned forward, almost knocking Happy’s papers from the interview table. “The way I see it, there needs to be more regulation. We have to be careful what we do, and who we align ourselves with.” TJ then went on an impassioned speech about regulating corporations. I found myself agreeing with a lot of his points.

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

      “-he thought he was more cunning than any beast of the field, but I was smarter.” Stanley West had just finished telling Happy about his time working as an undercover cop, to take down some guy named King Pin. He had a formal way of talking, everything about him was army regulated. His shirt pressed, his hair was neat.

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

       “What's one thing you.” I watched as Happy paused to read in his head, “Hate about the Avengers?” 

      “I lived in Sokovia for 4 years. I was there when Tony Stark’s creation came to destroy us. I witnessed the destruction left behind by Ultron. I helped clear the rubble off of the bodies. What happened in Sokovia was a great injustice. That’s why I want to work with you guys, to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Loki picked up the pen and wrote down Daniel’s name with a question mark. The rest of Daniel’s interview was of him and Happy bonding over their love of “Downtown Abbey.”

      “We should also write down Arthur’s name,” I suggested, at the same time, my phone began vibrating. I had turned on notifications to alert me anytime Eric made a post on Facebook or Twitter. I was worried about him. The alert said it was from Facebook. 

        Loki leaned in closer to me and looked down at the phone in my hand. “Are you seriously still expecting a message from Eric? Forget him.”

       I tuned out Loki’s voice and held my phone in one hand. I used my free hand to dig my nails into my skin. I absentmindedly began to push deeper. I pretended not to see Loki’s look of concern. What did he know? Sure, Eric was an asshole for not texting me or calling me. And it hurts. But before this stupid lockdown, when I and him were texting back and forth, during the days leading up to what would have been our first date, he was so kind and attentive. I never had anyone so invested in me before. When I would go to Loki’s room in the evenings, it was Eric I messaged after Loki would say something insulting. He may have been a jerk in high school, but for a brief moment, Eric, of all people, made me feel wanted. I needed to feel wanted again, at least before I died. 

        Loki simply rolled his eyes and shook his head in response to my unwillingness to give up on Eric. I heard him begin Henry Clayford’s interview. I was only half-listening to the part of the video Loki had skipped to, where Henry talked about his time working with explosives. 

       I still hadn’t opened the Facebook alert. I thought I should scroll through Eric’s Twitter feed first, and finish my coffee. I eventually opened the notification. It was a photo of Eric, posted a few minutes ago. He was wearing a red flannel shirt. It paired very well with the red dress the curvy blonde hanging off of his neck was wearing. I glared at the photo in a seething rage as lukewarm coffee spilt from the cup I was holding. 

       “Hey, careful.” Loki chastised as he moved Wanda’s laptop to safety. A few drops of coffee had fallen onto his pant leg. He stood up to brush it off. There was even more damage done to his couch. I didn’t stick around to hear Loki yell, or for him to see me cry. I went to hide in the only other room available, his closet. 

       I wanted to kill Eric. I hated myself for being so stupid. Most of all I hated my sister because all I wanted to do was call her but I knew she wouldn’t answer. I also wanted to throw things and break stuff but I couldn’t reach any of the boxes Wanda left and I didn’t have the heart to break her albums. Loki didn’t have many clothes for me to rip apart, either. All he had was the suit he was supposed to be wearing tonight. The suit jacket and pants were grey. The shirt I picked out was sea-foam green. I thought it would match his eyes, and be a nice change from the dark colours he often wore. I couldn’t bring myself to select any other colour for him but green. The colour was too unmistakably him. I slipped out of my coffee-soaked dress and put on Loki's shirt. I assumed Loki must have worn the shirt at some point. It had the familiar smell of pine and spearmint. 

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

Author’s Commentary: Thanks again for all the feedback. If you want to be tagged, please leave a comment or shoot me a message. 

This chapter was a bit of a challenge. I picture everything playing out like a movie. I’ll write the dialogue between characters first, and then add everything in later.

I pictured the video interviews, if it were a movie, having a lot of jump cuts. 

Tag List under the cut

Tag List

@oneofakindkindalassposts 

@thinkingth0ts  

@roundtableguests

@KneelingSince2012 

@mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes 

@uselesssapphickitten  

@moriarty-queen-of drama @purplekitten30  

@addictofsupernatural 

@kingtwhiddleston 

@darkerking 

@bilesxbilinskixlahey 

@deitysnips 

@the-bilkush @freyathehuntress 

@mrs--barnes @mando831  

@senuritaawsome226  

@delightfulheartdream  

@spacedaddydinn 

@geminiwolves 

@sottisesreine 

@jordynhartley2001  

@thelastpyle​

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: You Didn’t Get to Heaven But, You Made it Close

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Language, Fighting, possible typos, hospital scenes

-Words: 4.6K

Chapter 4: You Didn’t Get to Heaven But, You Made it Close

Words: 4.6K

The night was a typical one at the Holland household. Earlier that night, Rosie helped you cook dinner, spaghetti and meatballs, a Holland family dinner favorite. Dinner was quiet, Tom had been ignoring Parker for multiple reasons, mainly the ultimatum but also he was still angered by the recklessness of his son the other night.

Only the sound of slight flickering of the chandelier candles, could be heard. It was a deafening silence that consumed them. No one wanting to speak up and risk and argument forming. Dinner ended quicker than it began and everyone excused themselves.

Tom and you sat by the fire in the living room while their kids closed themselves off for the night. Not giving another thought to their kids. Little did they know, Parker had a date that night. And after dinner ceased, planned his escape.

“Tommy, I think it’s about time we turn in,” you said.

“Y/N, I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Tom whispered with a somber voice.

“About what baby?”

“Parker. The threat. Everything,” Tom was beyond stressed at the moment.

“Shh, we’ll figure it out. We always do,” you said rubbing the back of Tom’s head and Tom nodded in response

“Now come on, why don’t I put your mind at ease,” you whispered seductively.

“Are you talking about some good lovin’?” Tom inquired moving his eyebrows up and down.

“You’re such a dork. I was, we’ll see now.”

“Aww don’t be like that, you’re such a tease.” “Oh you love it,” you said. “Yes, I do,” Tom shouted following you up the stairs.

“I think I’m going to take a shower, care to join me?” You exclaimed cheekily.

“Love, you don’t have ask me twice” Tom said. How could you be anymore perfect? The day ended even more perfectly.

After they showered, you both changed into wannabe pajamas, for you, a tank top and some shorts and Tom wore a pair of boxers. They were all set to watch a little TV and hop under the covers when tiredness overcame them, falling asleep in each others arms. Absolutely content with everything in your life, everyone in the family was safe, nothing had come of the note yet.

“I love you, darling,” Tom whispered pressing his lips to your hairline.

You were already fast asleep. How did he get, you, this amazing woman to fall in love with him? The night soon fell into pitch darkness, however Tom’s phone ringing, startling him out of his deep sleep.

“Hello?” Tom answered it with a groggy voice.

“Is this Mr. Holland, father of Parker Holland?” A woman on the other line spoke.

“Yes, this is. Who the fuck is this?” Tom said rather rudely just being woken up.

“Sir, I’m calling from Kingston Memorial Hospital. Your son has been involved in an accident.”

“Fuck, I’m on my way.” Tom muttered as he hung up

“Angel wake up, something is wrong with Parker,” Tom whispered, shaking you awake.

“Tommy, what? What’s wrong?” You muttered as you stirred awake.

“Just get dressed.” Tom said.

Driving like a madman and disregarding all traffic signals, they all eventually arrived at the hospital. Not giving anything else a second thought.

They all piled into the Rolls Royce. Tom drove, for the first time in a long time, always having someone drive him. You sat in the passenger seat, clutching Tom’s hand and hoping to god your baby boy was okay.

You hadn’t even bothered to wear proper clothes, you wore mix-matched shoes, shorts, a tank top and an overcoat to stay warm. Rosie was like her mother, only wearing a hoodie and pajama bottoms. Tom on the other hand was more put together, wearing a regular t-shirt and pants along with the same pair of shoes, unlike, you, his wife.

Barging through the sliding doors, Tom made his presence known.

“Parker Holland, where is he?” Tom screamed as he marched up to the receptionist.

“I’m sorry sir, hold on a moment,” the nurse clad in light blue scrubs said.

“NO! Fuck this. Parker Holland, tell me where the fuck he is before I blow your brains out.” Tom shouted and flashed his pistol.

“Alright Sir, just please put the gun away,” the nurse pleaded.

“He is in room 202,” she concluded.

“Thank you, come on Tommy,” you replied, pulling your husband away.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the moment you saw your baby boy lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

“I’m sorry, are you family?” asked the doctor as everyone funneled in the room.

“Yes, we are his parents,” Tom concluded

“I’m his sister,” Rosie spoke up, trying not to be forgotten.

“Good. Parker has a mild concussion, a few broken ribs, and he came in with a ruptured spleen which was taken care of during surgery. The anesthesia should be wearing off any moment now,” the doctor explained.

“Parker? Baby? It’s mommy. Please wake up,” you whispered to your son while petting his head, trying not cry at his busted lip and swollen eye.

“Mr. Holland? Sorry to disturb you but, the police would like to talk with you” a nurse informed Tom. Tom nodded with a blank expression, not letting his eyes stray away from his son.

“Follow me, sir,” the nurse concluded as she led him out of the room.

“Mom, is Parker going to be okay?” Rosie inquired. “I hope so” you responded with a hoarse voice from crying. Rosie wrapped her arms around you, comforting you,

You were so used to you being the one waking up in a hospital bed. At first, dating Tom and eventually marrying him, put a huge target on your back. Never experiencing the crippling fear of losing the one you love most.

Meanwhile, Tom was conversing with the cops who were on the scene. “Sir, your son was a victim to an assault that happened earlier at The Luxe, a nightclub downtown,” explained one of the cops. They stood tall, attempting to act macho but failing. The notorious mobster scared them. The stories, alone, spread on the street was enough to make a grown man soil his pants.

One of them was a man around age 45, looked like he had a pension and drove a hybrid car. Old but tried too hard to be young again. The other was a woman, rather young, possibly new to force. Both of them oblivious to man they were questioning. Unaware of Tom’s business and status. “What? I don’t understand.” Tom was puzzled, he knew his son snuck out, but to a nightclub, why? “It seemed like the moment it was made known that he was a Holland, they let him in,” interjected one of the officers. “Alright, anything else? If you don’t mind I would like to get back to my family.” Tom concluded, bothered by their pestering. “Your son wasn’t alone?” “What?” “There was another body found at the scene. A female about 16 years old, her ID labeled her as Charlotte Owens. She was shot in the abdomen and found dead at the scene,” the officer informed Tom. “Did your son know this woman?” asked the first officer, holding up her driver’s license. “Nope. Never heard of her. I’m sorry to hear about her, wrong place wrong time I guess.” Tom couldn’t tell them the truth, he only needed to protect his family right now and if that meant blatantly lying to the authorities it was worth it. “Your son really had no connection to Ms. Owens?” asked the second policeman.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Mr. Holland, when we found your son he was covered in blood, not his own.” “What… are you accusing my son of murder? I’ll have you know I can have both your jobs in an instant,” Tom yelled, astounded at such an accusation.

“Sir, are you threatening us?” said the cops growing defensive. “No. Just making you aware of the situation. Tell Captain Reid I, Tom Holland, says ‘I’ll call him tomorrow, if you guys can’t do your jobs and leave me and my family alone”” Tom knew what he was doing. You don’t get to be the most powerful man in London by not having the police Captain in your pocket.

“We’re sorry sir, it won’t happen again,” the cops said, realizing they might have just made a very powerful enemy.

“I should hope so, if you have anymore questions here’s my business card and I suggest you don’t bother me again,” Tom concluded.

“Yes, sir. Have good rest of your night,” they said but Tom ignored them as he made a call.

“Tom? Do you know what time it is?” Harrison answered after a few rings, probably consumed by deep sleep.

“Haz I’m at the hospital.” Tom spoke with a somber voice.

“What? What happened?” Haz said all panicky. “Parker snuck out and got beaten up. A hit had to be on him. He was with his girlfriend. She didn’t make it.” “Jesus Christ. I’m on my way. Is it Kingston Memorial?” Harrison inquired. “Yes, also bring Henry I have a feeling Parker is going to need some moral support.” “Alright, be there soon mate.”

Parker was coming out of his deep sleep. His body begged for it, desperately needing to heal. He took quite a beating.

“Woah, woah. Where am I?” Parker asked, confused by his surroundings.

“Honey you’re at the hospital, don’t move you’ll hurt yourself.” You exclaimed. Parker soon realized everything that had transpired that night.

“They killed her,” Parker whispered as his eyes went cold. Every moment flashing before his eyes. One minute she was dancing, full of life and the next lying his arms dead.

“What? Who, honey?” You asked just relieved that your son was awake. “Charlotte.” Tom said walking in as you burst into tears at the vocalization of Charlotte’s name.

“What? Parker you need to tell me what happened. I thought you were in your room,” you pestered, only concerned about her son’s well being.

“I snuck out and my girlfriend got killed. What more is there to tell?” Parker said raising his voice and showing off his beloved Tom’s temper.

“I’m sorry. Charlotte just wanted me to be there to celebrate her birthday. I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me she would still be alive,” Parker explained, tears slipping from his eyes.

“Shh baby, you can explain later. Just get some rest,” you concluded and Parker nodded in response.

“Mom, I’m gonna get some air,” Rosie said, wanting to be sick at the thought of Charlotte’s demise. She walked aimlessly around the hospital, making her way outside by the ambulance entrance.

Her breathing rapidly increased, she was hyperventilating. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she whispered to herself.

Collapsing against the wall, she sunk to the ground and brought her knees to her chest. Parker being the older sibling, knew more of the family business and tried to shield Rosie as much as possible. Not wanting to see her dad littered with blood after a hard day’s work.

“Rosie?” Henry asked with concern, seeing her sitting on the ground with tears streaming down her face.

“Hey, hey, hey. I got you. You’re okay. I got you.” Henry whispered bringing her into his embrace.

“Henry. I’m so glad you’re here.” She said, not letting go.

“Roo, you gotta tell me what happened? My dad wouldn’t say anything.”

“Parker got hurt when he snuck into a nightclub with Charlotte and she—“ Rosie bawled, her voice cracking and not finishing the sentence.

“It’s gonna be okay. Parker is okay right?” Henry asked and Rosie nodded in response. “Charlotte though, she…” Rosie having trouble finding the words. She knew the words but, the moment she said them they became 10 times more real. “Come on, Rosie, spit it out.” Henry said, trying not to alarm her. “She’s dead. She’s dead and I was awful to her.” Rosie stammered. “Oh my god. How?” Henry gasped, trying to wrap his head around the news. “She was shot. I know it’s not my fault but I can’t shake the feeling that I had something to do with it.” “Rosie you can’t think like that. It was an accident,” Henry whispered, comforting the trembling girl beside him. “Hey come here, I got you Roo. You’re safe with me.” Henry whispered pressing a kiss to Rosie’s forehead. She was actually starting to grow fond of the nickname, only when it was Henry who said it.

“I know this is a bad time, but I have to tell you something,” Henry whispered, trying to find the guts to tell this amazingly perfect girl the truth. “Yeah,” Rosie responded, eager for his response. “Rosie, I…” Henry tried to say but was soon interrupted with Rosie’s lips on hers. The kiss was soft yet full of passionate. Their lips melded together like two puzzle pieces. Both their eyes fluttered shut as euphoria consumed them, finally breaking away to breathe.

“I like you a lot, I have for awhile,” Rosie said, shying away from his face.

“Rosie, I really like you too,” he whispered, bringing his hand to caress her cheek.

“Really?” Rosie asked dumbfounded. “Yeah, what’s not to love,” he said and brought her into another chaste kiss. This time lingering longer as his lips brushed against hers. This was everything they both desired.

In the Parker’s hospital room, Tom and Harrison were conversing. Stuff was happening right under Tom’s nose at the estate and he was fed up with it.

“Who do you think it could be?” Haz asked, trying to get to the bottom of this before it blows up. “God knows who, I have countless enemies. Barnes, Roberts, most likely Carson,” Tom said, trying not to alarm, you, his sleeping wife or son. “Alright, I’ll inform the others to be on high alert,” Haz concluded. “We will have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning, I want everyone there.” “Yes, sir.”

“Enough Haz, you don’t need to be formal” Tom chuckled. “I know it just makes you laugh sometimes and you need that right now,” Harrison said, being the comic relief in times of crisis.

“Dad?” Parker whispered, coming out of his deep sleep.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Tom exclaimed. “It’s fine. Can I ask you something” Parker inquired.

“Mmmhm,” Tom acknowledged. “How’d you deal with all those times almost losing mum?” Parker inquired.

“I won’t lie to you, I was a wreck” Tom explained. Seeing his son like this, brought Tom back to the time you were kidnapped and tortured. You two had only been going out for a year at the time and it was a huge turning point in your relationship.

At the time, Tom was in the middle of a turf war with James Graham, another mobster who predated Tom. You and Tom had just moved into together. Everything was smooth sailing up until that point. It was the night of your anniversary, going to the restaurant you went on your first date. You were dressed in a red, Tom’s favorite color not much of a surprise there, satin dress which hugged your figure perfectly. You had made your way to “Casa Nostra,” the little Italian restaurant that was very dear to your heart.

You sat down at your usual table with your usual drink, a gin and tonic, and fell in love with the ambience. Once in a while glancing at your watch, Tom was late. It was puzzling because Tom was everything and of those things was punctual. Tom was currently, stuck at the “office,” swamped with paper work.

“Vincent can you call Y/N? Tell her I’m sorry for being late and I’ll be there in 30 mins,” Tom asked one of his men. “Yes of course boss,” Vincent concluded as the phone suddenly rang.

“Oh, what’d you know, its her right here,” “Thanks Vincent, I got it from here,” Tom said grabbing the phone and dismissing him out of his office.

“I’m so sorry love. I’ll be there in 30 mins tops. Order what every you want to start with, may a suggest a bottle of Dom Pérignon. I promise I’ll be there. I love you,” Tom exclaimed hoping you would understand.

Who was he kidding of course you would understand. You were always so kind and considerate of everyone else’s feelings, he knew you wouldn’t be mad.

“Oh, no worries. I’m fine, just enjoying a few drinks. See you when you get here. I love you too. Remember don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you replied.

Drinking gin and tonic one after the another to pass the time, you had gotten up to make a phone call. 10 mins had past since you entered the establishment and your driver had dropped you off and stayed in the parked car. You made your way to the bathroom. Coming out of the stall having finished and washed your hands. In the reflection of the mirror, stood a tall figure one who looked like he could break your neck with one snap.

A gasp exited your lips as the assailant lunged toward you. Launching towards the bathroom walls, banging you head against the wall and the tile once your body hit the floor. All you heard were muffled screams you assumed belonged to the other patrons of the restaurants. Followed by several gunshots before you fell into complete and utter darkness.

You woke up to mind-numbing pain and throbbing pain to your head, your wrists fasten to a metal chair and wet, thick liquid dripping down the side of your face.

“Glad to see you are awake. Could I get you anything, water maybe?” Graham inquired tauntingly. “Fuck you, Graham. What the fuck am I doing here?” You yelled as you tried to escape your restraints.

James Graham had been a rival of the Hollands for decades. Always craving more power than there was to go around. The Holland’s enjoyed their freedom at the top of the food chain.

They were and are the most dangerous predator out there. When one of the less powerful predators gets a taste for blood, they won’t stop til they have decimated the rest of the population.

“Wow, who knew such a pretty girl like you would have such a mouth on her,” he quipped.

“Tom’s gonna come for me and when he does he will show no mercy,” you said, your voice tainted with hope.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he chuckled. “Why me? Why didn’t you just go after him yourself?” “I suggest you shut your fucking trap before I put a bullet through your skull,” He barked, slapping you straight across the face. Leaving a small imprint of his hand. Right before, he yanked your hair back, entangling all your strands in his fingers. All the pain caused tears to fall.

“I guess that seemed to shut you up. Better hope, your man hurries or he is going have to carry your decaying body out of this hell hole,” Graham taunted. “Why are you doing this?” you asked. “Your corpse would make Tom shatter. To get to him, I have kill you. You are his weakness. It will be the end of him, the end of Tom Holland,” he spoke with a tight grip on your jaw, leaving tiny bruises.

“Well, better get started cause one way or another you’ll be dead by sunrise.” He said, delivering a swift punch to your stomach. One after the other.

“I’ve had my fun. Boys, do you want to get a few licks in?” “It would be my pleasure, boss,” his men snickered as they made their way over to you. Alternating who punched and when. “Have your fun, but no guns. Tom needs to see the pain she felt. I’ll be upstairs.” Graham explained while leaving you alone with his men.

Meanwhile, Tom was finally free of work and on his way to enjoy a lovely night with you. A year spent together was really testament. He already felt so guilty for ditching you for 30 mins, he had some ideas of how he would make it up to you.

He arrived to a massacre at the restaurant. Not a single soul was found alive anywhere, they had all been shot. Searching for you, along with the other casualties, you were nowhere to be found.

Only explanation, you were taken by Graham. The lack of gravitas when it came to killing led to one person, James Graham. You were the only thing on his mind right now and Graham was behind it all. He quickly pulled his phone out and dialed the last person he wanted to see tonight.

“Oh Tom, what do I owe this pleasure?” Graham said cheekily. “Where the fuck is she, Graham?” Tom barked, not fucking around. “Sorry Tommy, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Who?”

“Graham, I swear to fucking god if you hurt a hair on her head there will be hell to pay,” Tom gritted his teeth.

“It’s a little late for that.” Graham stated. “TOM!” You screamed in the background. “Let me talk to her,” Tom pleaded. “Alright, I’m not a monster. Hope she has some good last words for you now.” “It’s for you,” Graham said, holding the phone to your ear. “Y/N? Are you okay? Where are you?” Tom said with concern. He blamed himself for you being in this position. Sure, you had come from a mob family but, nothing like this happened. It was because of him. He was in love you, which made you his biggest weakness.

“I’m fine, don’t listen to him, I’m sorry we didn’t get our second date,” you said, trying to put Tom’s mind at ease. “You mean anniversary date. Oh… Baby, I’m going to find you. Trust me” “I do, I love—“ the conversation soon ended when Graham pulled the phone away and pummeled into your cheekbone, causing red to seep out. Only winces from pain and quiet sobs were heard on the other line.

“Aww, did you say your fucking marriage vows or shit? Too bad you’ll never see her in a wedding dress,” Graham snickered. “Graham, I’m coming for you and for your sake, I suggest you fucking run like the pussy you are,” Tom threatened as he hung up. He knew where you were thank to you subtle hint and he desperately needed backup. How could he go in there guns blazing when it’s just him.

“Haz, Y/N has been taken. Gather all the men I know where she is,” Tom said into the phone. “What? Where is she?” Haz inquired “She’s at the marina, our second date.”

Tom drove to where your second date was, the marina. He needed to know you were okay, the phone call didn’t give him much to go on. Haz and the other men soon arrived all in black SUVs.

“She’s in there. On my count. 1, 2, 3!” Haz said, instructing the soldiers. Tom let Haz take the lead on this one so he could focus on you.

Busting through the doors, guns went off a split second later. Flooring most of Graham’s men. Tom and Haz found you looking half dead strapped to a chair in the middle of the room.

“Love we have to get you out of here” Tom said, trying to run up to you until he was stopped by sound of a gun cocking against your head. Tears slipped as your came face to head with the barrel of a gun.

“Come any closer and she’s dead. Now drop the gun,” Graham shouted.

“Do you think I’m playing around. DROP IT!!!” Tom slowly put his gun on the ground, trying to stall enough for Harrison to be behind him.

“Duck!” Tom yelled, hitting the deck as Haz fired 3 shots. Striking Graham right between the eyes, and the chest twice. A thud soon followed and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Tom rushed over to you, cutting off your restraints.

“Y/N. Oh darling, I’m so sorry,” Tom cried.

“It’s ok, you got me now, that’s all that matters,” you said growing more weak in his arms “We gotta get you to a hospital come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around you shoulder as he walked.

This was the first time Tom had brought you to the hospital. Who knew it would be the first of many instances. He hated hospitals, all the sickness that lingered in the air.

You had been in surgery for an hour, the doctors were in the process of fixing your internal bleeding. All those punches, ruptured one of your kidneys. Now you were resting in your hospital bed with Tom attached to your side, refusing to let go of your hand.

Tom had been a wreck, sure it was only two hours but the most dreadful two hours of his life. He knew you would be okay, but all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms.

“Hi Tommy,” you whispered, beginning to wake. “God you scared the fucking hell out of me, please don’t ever scare me like that again. I need to know you are okay,” Tom exclaimed. “I’m okay, I promise.” “Yes and you will be from now on…. Tomorrow Jared, my driver, will help you gather your stuff from the house. I’ll have someone else take care of the furniture. Do you have a place to stay?” Tom explained.

“What? Why are you doing this?” you said, confusingly.

“I love you Y/N, this is the only way I can guarantee your safety.” “Tom, don’t push me away.”

“None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for me. You wouldn’t be lying here half fucking dead. You should just forget about me,” Tom pleaded. “Hey, look at me. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not,” you said, standing your ground. “Y/N, I’m damaged goods. This your chance, go live the your life without getting blood on your hands.”

“Tom, I think you forget that I already have blood on my hands. There is nothing you can say or do that would ever make me leave you.”

Tom knew in the moment, you were his and one day he might regret your words. Thank god you stuck around or he wouldn’t have the family he has today. You and Tom even still make it a priority to spend your anniversary at Casa Nostra.

Parker needed reassurance, just like Tom did when he asked you to leave him, after your kidnapping. Tom never wanted himself to be the reason for your demise. He could never forgive himself.

“Dad, I just don’t know how to move on from this. It hurts so bad,” Parker pleaded.

“She’s dead because of me. All I want to do is hold her. She didn’t deserve any of this,” Parker cried. “I know, it wasn’t your fault though,” Tom reassured.

“How is it not? The men specifically asked for me, I’m the reason she is dead!” Parker exclaimed.

“How do I make the pain go away?” he said, desperate for a quick remedy. “It will eventually, you just need time,” Tom explained to his devastated son. “No, what I need is revenge,” Parker said forcing a shocked expression upon Tom’s face.

“I’ll do it, dad” Parker concluded with a new found confidence.

“Do what, P?” Tom inquired.

“I’ll be the next you, be the next Holland that strikes fear.”

“I’m in, teach me to be the best fucking mobster this world has every seen.” These were the words Tom was wishing his son would’ve said a week ago, but there’s no time like the present. “It would be my pleasure. I always knew you had it in you,” Tom said rather excitedly.

“This is the only way I can avenge Charlotte. They won’t know what hit them.” Something in Parker changed. A switch had flipped in his brain. The innocent boy was now a shell of person, demanding revenge. He was out for blood.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

Author note: Feel free to be asked to be added to the taglist if you want :)

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

[shaechans]

boyfriend! hyuck

the boy: nct’s lee haechan

type: headcanon + timestamp

word count: 792

a/n: two in one day phew!! these also are presented to you from the  ✨ drafts✨ i had written this on one of those soft hour days when i just wanted cuddles and hyuck was too cute to not write about. anyway, it’s pretty short and i included a little timestamp cause why not!

now mr lee donghyuck here would be an asshole of a boyfriend!^!!^

but would be the sweetest at the same time ???

he'd be so silly and shy, yet so protective and sweet it's worse than yukhei's duality

teasing is a definite must like he would definitely never go without one of those

but he's that type to probably like pamper you with kisses and cuddles right after

probably aLwAys talks about like the boys know more about you than you do

"omg this is y/n's favourite" or "y/n uses this stuff" thats bECAUSE EVERYONE USES TOILET PAPER-

n eways, it's really sweet actually

among the boys, you and jeno would get really close cause he's hilarious i mean c'mon

and hyuck gets super pissed like ain't no one making my baby laugh other than him

he just loves you like super lot is scared you'd run away with someone else

cause despite the cocky annoying exterior, he's a real softie insecure boi inside and he just wants sum luv so pls givE IT TO HIM

although, being on hyuck's 'like list' is enough to earn a whole truckload of skinship and you being on 'love list', honey i pray

he's just really super touchy and doesn't understand the definition of personal sPaCe

loves pda and will do it forever

he's definitely the type of boyfriend or person in general to get like butthurt

like "god y/n you're such an attention seeker why do you wanna win all the time jesus christ-"

oh i'm sorry i shOULD HAVE LET YOU DRESS YOUR ELSA DOLL BETTER THAN MY ANNA ONE AS IF

prank wars all the time!!!

even when you don't want it, you want it

"omg did you just throw slime on me", yes

babysitting your cousin are the best dates ever

your cousin is cute plus you get to witness hyuck with babies is uwU

weird nicknames are defo your thing

and i'm talking flat ass or gumdrop or like couple names like salt and pepper idk it changes like every week

hates seeing you cry but lowkey thinks it's super adorable

so he makes you watch sad movies cause he knows they get the waterworks stared easily

evil but it's hyuck c'mon

all in all, he's the cutest piece of shit so don't let him go or i'll hunt you down

[ 2:16 PM ] it was the hottest summer you had witnessed so far and the fact that the power got cut out made it much worse. the only thing that could satisfy right that moment would be either hyuck or thai food, no in between. so to say that you were beyond happy to see hyuck's caller id would be an understatement. jumping up, throwing your mickey mouse paper fan on the couch you swiped right to hear heavy panting on the other side.

"hey you okay hyuck?" you asked, though excited concern laced your words. "yeah i'm fine just please open the door my hANDS ACHE!" he yelled through the speaker. running to the door like an instinct you were delighted to see him there (with sweat dripping but it's not important) a thai food restaurant parcel in his right hand, a heavy looking cardboard box filled with video tapes and his phone stuck awkwardly between his ear and shoulder.

"omg what-" "juST PLEASE HELP ME" his voice boomed from the speaker of your phone as well as from the exhausted boy, making you jump. finally helping him settle down he kissed your cheek in a hurry and plopped on the sofa only to hiss.

"why do you have no sort of cool air at all are you broke?" he whined and before you could retaliate with i paid the bill this month, hyuck got up and pushed the video tape into your cassette player. the tv lit up, a six year old hyuck with a blue towel round his neck as if to be a cape and his cheeks flushed pick with a wooden spoon in his hand.

"and now i will make this stupid cat disappear from sight!" "laNGUAGE HYUCK" his mother's voiced boomed off camera. a chuckle erupted from hyuck beside you, a bowl of sticky rice with mangoes on top in his hand while he sat on the floor next to you.

"i remember when my uncle gifted my sister a magic set for her birthday and i got so jealous, i made my own magic show" you lifted your heart eyed gaze from your sticky rice to hyuck, seeing him smile in nostalgia made you happy.

dates like these were the best, even if the air conditioner broke down. hyuck and your thai food were there and that's all that mattered, nothing else!

let me know if y’all would like more headcanons (+ a little timestamp, cmon dont be shy). just send in a little ask and ill try to write some more rubbish👍👍