#Black Bear sighting in Holland

[shamballalin]

Mama Bear and 2 Baby Cubs Visit Today ~ Notice the Tracking Collar

2 baby bear cubs rested on the classroom porch while Mama bear checked out the classroom space. The Keynote of Bear, according to Ted Andrews in his Animal Speak book, is awakening the Power of the Unconscious. Bear stirs our imagination so much we have a constellation named for it, Ursus Major, The Great Bear. Seven stars of this constellation are probably the most easily recognized in the…

[charlesandmartine]

Monday 19th June 2023

A day all at sea is a commodity needing serious planning. We slept in but were in time to join happy campers in the main dining room. As a feeding forum this is by far the most gentile option on board compared to Windjammer where the object of the exercise is see how tall and diverse a pile of food could be collected from a selection of counters onto one average sized bit of porcelain and conveyed without loss back to a table. A feat perhaps more difficult than you might think especially considering the waddle required for an oversized person to negotiate a straight line against the sway of the boat. Not a pretty picture and not one repeated in our dining room where eager young waiters flit around the white table cloths taking orders and dispensing more modest meals to a far more discerning clientele. So it was that around 10.15 we removed ourselves from the hallowed confines of our breakfast experience.

Further exploration of the ship produced the location of the gym where we intended to go later in the day. Others commenced line dancing in the auditorium; an ancient art of foot shuffling to music with a woman in a black leotard yelling instructions.

Overnight we had lost sight of Celebrity Eclipse, but in our wake Holland America was still close by. No doubt a novice navigator on board nervous of being alone in this vast ocean. Before sunset yesterday we had been following the inner passage between Vancouver Island and the Mainland but now we are out into the vastness of the North Pacific Ocean heading towards the Gulf of Alaska. Then by midday all signs of Holland and Barrett had gone.

Since days at sea time management can appear to be dictated by mealtimes, we decided a hurricane swept turn around the decks would be advantageous; more accurately 12 turns around the deck 12, equalling one hour, then lunch in case too many calories had been indudiciously burned, then back to reading our books. An American woman chirruped that she thought she had seen at distance the blow spout of a whale, but I think she'd made that up.

Ovation of the Seas was large brash and noisy. Brilliance is far smaller and sedate and whilst it does not necessarily conduct itself across the ocean in complete silence, it was possible to relax in the main auditorium in comfortable armchairs and read whilst a musician scratched a living playing melodic classical guitar several floors below. Girl from Ipanema, Cavertina, Moon River; generally lulling rifts designed for rest and relaxation. Then an American girl with loud gob got up on stage and announced it was time to get the party started. We left.

The gym became a quieter refuge to repair to and vital calories were worked off before dinner. Tonight was the first formal night of the cruise although not many DJs as far as I could see. Just as well I didn't make the effort. Then to the show where there was a shy retiring little thing called Michelle Murlin who screeched a load of songs at us until we could take no more and left the theatre.

Tomorrow we dock at Sitka for a grand day out bear watching, not forgetting of course to put the clocks back one hour tonight.

[sparklingsin]

(push your heart, and pull away); - III

tom holland x female!reader

summary for series: you've got yourself in a predicament that involves fake dating the star employee of your company (who you might have feelings for), all to convince your family that you're finally happy, after what happened with your last shot at love. can you, the CEO of a booming business, your family's darling daughter pull off the biggest lie you've ever told? [inspired by and based loosely on The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas.]

tags and warnings: female reader, you have a brother, romance tropes, denial, banter, sexual tension, swearing.

a/n: 2.6k words // I am really excited for what I have planned for this series and I only hope I can translate it into my writing. sorry it's a slow burn but I promise the good stuff will be satisfying when it does come. (innuendo intended)

catch up: chapter one / chapter two

CHAPTER III

For an incredibly numbing moment, you thought Tom was not going to show up.

Maybe he had finally come to his senses and realised how god-awful this plan was. Maybe you should just call in sick too and not attend this wedding altogether.

You had already checked in and sure, boarding was still a good forty-five minutes away but it was still less than an hour and.. where the hell was Tom? A wave of cold panic swept down your back. The very thought of doing this alone, and worse— showing up without the boyfriend you had promised would come— made your anxiety spike. It wasn’t too late to make a break for it.

Get a grip, Y/N. This was your brother’s wedding. You couldn’t not go.

You bounced your foot in your seat, gaze falling onto the staircase that led to the waiting area once more. Hoping, no, desperately praying that Tom would show up.

C’mon, c’mon.

Switching on your phone again, you checked to see if you had correctly sent him his flight details. Of course, you had. You always double-checked everything and had discussed it at the office too.

Your chest started to cave in as you watched the minutes go by on the large digital clock at the terminal. You couldn’t do this, not without him, you thought, and then— God, when had you become such a wimp?

16:00, the clock beeped. What if he was stuck in traffic? Fuck.

You didn't want to be overbearing so you hadn't called or texted him all evening but as your flight showed up in the tabular list displayed on the terminal screen— it was going to land ten minutes early— you panicked and sent him a text.

Hey, where are you?

You watched as the text turned from 'Sent' to 'Delivered' to 'Read' in 20 seconds.

Three dots showed up at the bottom of the screen, and then a second later—

Look up.

And there he was, a bag on his arm and a backpack slung across his shoulder, standing at the top of the staircase, smiling. He was dressed in dark jeans, a denim jacket thrown over a pink hoodie, topped off with a black cap perched on his dark curls. If the word boyfriend could be a person, Tom would be it.

He started to make his way towards you.

The overjoyed relief that flushed through you at the sight of him was to be blamed for what you did next. You stood up hastily and threw yourself at him, meeting him halfway and tackling him in a bear hug.

He came.

“Oomph,” he mumbled, as he was thrown off-balance but caught you just fine, arms encircling your waist hesitantly. You buried your head in his shoulder, silently thanking whoever was up there for not letting you down.

"You came," you said, breath coming out shakier than you had expected.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his breath warm in your ear. You could’ve melted right there in his arms. He squeezed your waist, and you were suddenly aware of how his hard chest was pressing against your own, how he smelled like freshly ironed clothes and how inappropriate this probably was.

You released him with a clearing of your throat. He seemed flustered too as he rubbed his neck hard, quickly ducking to retrieve his backpack that had fallen to the floor when you had tackled him.

"Of course, I came," he said again, once you had both got your bearings. He reached for your arm. You stilled as he gave your elbow a friendly squeeze and then stepped back. "I made a promise, L/N," eyes gazing steadfastly into your own.

And for the second time that week, you could’ve almost cried. He sounded so sincere. And he had come. He hadn’t bailed. You could’ve hugged him again— which was stupid, but you really wanted to. Instead, you chose to shoot him a grateful smile.

"Uh, we should get going," he said, breaking up the awkwardness that had begun to simmer, gesturing at the screen behind you. Boarding had begun.

He watched as you rushed to pick up your bags.

"You have four suitcases on you."

You turned to look at him. "And?"

"We're only staying for five days, yeah?" he asked.

You stared at him.

"I'm a grooms-woman, I have a lot of outfits to pack, okay? Did you know I had to pack five pairs of heels?"

Tom held up his hands but he was chuckling, "Okay, okay, tiger, no need to get defensive. You do you," You smiled a little, there was room to breathe again. You were afraid you had blown it with the hug.

He offered to take two of the bags off your back, as you made your way to the counter.

"Bloody hell, woman," he called after you, shouldering the bags himself, "—what, have you got rocks in these?"

"Aunty Pam is—" you began.

“Aunty Pam likes to talk a lot and is always in everybody’s business. You don’t quite like her,” Tom said nonchalantly.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Uncle Phil—”

“Married to Aunty Pam and keeps to himself mostly, but loves his wife a lot. Oh and, they have a kid, your cousin — name’s not important — who is always on a cruise somewhere.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What about my twice removed cousin, Fluer?”

Tom picked up a second pastry that the kindly flight attendant had bought in, thanks to the first-class perks. "She is the one with a poodle and a half-French accent, from the time she spent in France, innit? We like her. Yeah," he said, wolfing it down in one go.

Okay, you were thoroughly impressed, and judging by the slight smirk forming on Tom’s face, weren’t doing a good job of hiding it. Tom always gave his hundred per cent when it came to his work and maybe, that translated to other things in his life too. Still, you were in awe.

“Don’t seem so surprised, didn’t you want me to remember these things?’

“I…yeah, no, I did,” you said lamely. You’d told him about your family tree two days ago— and just the once. What other superpowers was this man hiding?

Tom threw you another cocky grin.

“Then maybe pick your jaw off the floor, babe.”

The gall. You should have been shocked at it, but you weren’t.

Instead, it lit something in you— that bright spark you had buried before. The spark, no longer a spark, but a small fire. If this is what Tom was like outside of work, you couldn’t be prepared for what was coming. The thought terrified you but also thrilled you. You found yourself looking forward to seeing this plan unfold, eager to know what Tom brought to the table as a boyfriend. He had called you babe. The nickname alone made your heart race.

“Aren’t you going to ask about me?” Tom asked an hour later, as you sipped the champagne that the attendant had bought. You needed alcohol if you were going to get through this thirteen-hour flight with a colleague who was messing with your head.

"What will you say when somebody asks you what your boyfriend's favourite color is?"

You looked at him, trying hard to not roll your eyes.

“Why did you sign up to be a part of something so crazy?”

Tom looked away for a moment, sighing. “I told you, L/N. I just thought it seemed like fate.”

You weren’t really satisfied with that answer, not even the first time around. Tom was a kind person, sure, but even this seemed too much for any sane person to agree to.

“Why did you lie?” he asked, turning to face you.

You averted your eyes. You were not sure if you wanted to go down that path, think about the heartbreak and pain that came with it. Especially with the alcohol bubbling in your system.

“You can trust me, you know,” Tom said gently.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“My family… they pester me a lot about it. Ever since...," You took a shaky breath. "I just didn’t want to show up alone.”

You had barely offered him any information but something seemed to click in Tom’s eyes. Maybe he didn’t know the whole truth but he was getting close.

“My favourite colour is green,” Tom said after a while, finishing up the last of his drink. He hadn’t had much, but the tiniest hint of red suffused his cheeks.

“I know,” you said, taking a swig of your drink and looking at him through the glass. You were thankful for the change of subject.

He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I —uh— you wear it to the office a lot. You use it in a lot of presentations and it’s the colour of Joanna’s eyes. So I assumed.”

Tom reared back at your words. “What?!”

Shit. Shit. You should’ve known better than to drink this much. Alcohol made your filters disappear into thin air.

“I just uh— notice things. Have to look out for my employees.”

Nice save, Y/N.

“No, the part about Joanna—” Tom said, blinking fast. “What?”

“...It’s the colour of Joanna’s eyes,” you mumbled sheepishly, looking anywhere but at Tom.

“And why would that matter?”

Fuck, this parachute was a knapsack. You wished you could just jump out of the plane right about now.

“Oh, don’t make me spell it out, Holland.”

Tom continued to look at you like you’d grown a second head.

“I don’t like Joanna like that. I don’t know where you heard that.”

You hadn’t heard it from anyone. Nobody in the office thought this except you. Sure, the only basis for this theory of yours was that you had seen Joanna and Tom walking down the street after office hours together once but you didn’t want Tom to know that, so you shut up.

“Good to know that even our boss isn’t above high-school gossip,” Tom muttered when you didn’t respond.

Now it was your turn to look offended. “Hey! I’m human too, you know?”

“Hardly seems fair that you lot should have all the fun,” you added, taking another swig of the sparkling drink. You should stop drinking.

“Gossip is fun?”

“Oh, so you’re better? You haven’t got any juicy stories about your boss to share with the class?” you were beginning to slur your words and that put a cork in the bottle. Literally.

“I am not at liberty to share,” Tom said.

“Hypocrite,” you muttered.

“You’re adorable when you’re drunk,” Tom retorted, one corner of his mouth curling.

Cheeky. You hoped you didn’t look too ruffled by his words.

‘I’m only slightly tipsy,” you sighed as you turned your attention to the attendant who had strolled by your seat.

“Do you need anything, madam?”

“Just water,” you said, suddenly feeling your throat parch up.

You turned to look at Tom, who was smiling fondly. Your stomach did a little flip.

“Anything else, baby?” you asked him, suddenly feeling bold in front of the attendant and taking your opportunity to get back at him for the brazen 'babe'. If you were going to be a girlfriend, you were going to commit to it. How fast the walls disappeared when you were inebriated.

Tom did a double-take at the word. His cheeks flushed red and his eyes widened. You’d never seen him this flustered before. You were tipsy enough to admit that you liked it. Liked calling him that and liked watching his reaction.

He was quick to regain his composure, however.

“No, thank you,” he told the attendant, dismissing her.

He looked back at you then, the brown in his eyes darkening. Your heartbeat surged, cheeks heating as he continued to stare at you. Something ticked in his jaw and it went straight to your core. Thoughts that you wouldn't be caught dead having sober, flooded your mind. Fuck. Fuck. He watched you, jaw taut, like he was rethinking some things.

You could only exhale when he looked away.

Maybe you had crossed a line but you realised, despite the alcohol, you didn’t really care. In fact, it made you more curious. All today had shown you was that there was a side of Tom you hadn’t seen. It was a side that brought out a different you too.

You weren’t sure if that boded well for the plan.

Or for you.

The trip to the baggage claim was a bleary-eyed one. You had had enough alcohol to get a mild headache and it was far too early when the plane landed. You counted six bags and made your way outside, Tom close behind you.

You hadn’t said anything to him all morning except for a quick greeting and that your brother was sending a car to get you. Tom had simply nodded in response.

The drive to the hotel was just as quiet.

The Anthea stood tall in the white sand, looking more like a monument than it did a hotel. The sun was starting to come up over the waters of Santorini, and as tired as you were, the sight from where you stood outside the hotel took your breath away. The sparkling blue waters were streaked with tendrils of gold and red, coming up the shore in tiny waves.

“It’s beautiful,” Tom’s voice came from beside you. He was standing close, after having brought out the luggage from the car.

You looked back at him, some of the sunlight reflected in his eyes, making them seem like pools of gold.

“Sorry if yesterday was too much,” you said, hoping he'd understand what you were getting at. You didn't feel sorry because you had absolutely enjoyed it...but you were still his boss.

Tom’s expression softened, some of his tiredness evaporating. “Hey, we’re just playing our parts. I understand, L/N,” he said.

Just playing our parts. That made your stomach sink.

“Y/N!” someone called from behind you just then and you turned, recognising the figure descending the steps of the hotel even before you saw him.

You looked back at Tom, making up your mind. You were going to do this. You’d deal with your… feelings later, but right now you had a plan to execute.

"Come on, pretend boyfriend, time to meet my brother."

feedback is appreciated! if you'd like to be tagged in the future chapters, please leave a comment or send an ask!

NEXT CHAPTER -

taglist: @boomitsallie1 @bruxa0007 @mn-jun @maybankssholland @berryologyyy @rayisthehoe @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @gina239 @namoreno @itszulli

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield, Rosie Holland x Linus Perry

-Warnings: References to sex, language, typos, sad thoughts, attempted suicide, vomiting

-Words: 4.4K

A/n: Thank you so mucg guys with all the live support. Finally done, yay, with part 1

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Words: 4.4K

Four years had passed and Rosie was the only one to stick around. Everything had changed. You and Tom were currently on your trip around the world. Traveling everywhere from Cuba to Greece. Taking in sights of the world.

Embarking on journey covering 3 continents and 10 countries so far. You had already visited the Taj Mahal in India, the Amalfi Coast for some sun, and Iceland just for the blue lagoon hot springs. You and Tom were having the time of your lives, it being the perfect distraction from everything back home.

Rosie was running the mob along with her new right hand and consigliere, Linus. Rosie had been taking on the mantle as the new leader of the Holland mob. Picking up where Parker left off. Trying to do him justice. Tom had helped her learn the ropes but she always had that fiery personality desired for a mob persona.

After four years, Rosie learned to embrace her grief instead of shoving it away, she began to visit Parker’s grave more and more. Tried to every week, but life got in the way. She would bring a new set of flowers to freshen up the old ones.

She knew today would be especially hard, every year it was impossible. Rosie could barely get through the day. Today was her 20th birthday, marking 4 years of celebrating without Parker.

Rosie and Henry’s relationship had grown into one full of misery. Trapped in a loveless relationship, but he was still her best friend. With just one look he would know what she was thinking.

Over the past couple years, Henry has been so obsessed with keeping her safe that it was driving her mad. Rosie understood that Henry didn’t want to lose her like he lost Parker, but Rosie ran a mob and danger followed her everywhere. They started drifting apart when everything happened with the Holland family, creating unfixable cracks in their foundation.

Lately, Rosie had been feeling someone watching her every move. Following her whenever she would be downtown. Feeling a presence she hasn’t felt in a while. Constantly shivering in fear, feeling as though she was observed. From then on, every move she made was calculated and thought out.

When Rosie first took on the mantle, she cleaned house. Eliminating those whose loyalty would always lie with Tom. Trying to affirm the fact that she was so much more than just Tom’s daughter. She had let William go and few others because she brought in Linus.

Even after starting her new regime, things have been a bit off, lately. She hasn’t been sleeping through the night. She’d jolt out of sleep, drenched in a cold sweat. Henry would be startled awake as well by her movement as move to comfort her.

“Roo, you okay?” Henry asked groggily, yawning a bit. Rosie gasping to catch her breath. Her dreams were supposed to be an escape but now they were doing more harm than good. “I don’t know. I keep having these dreams about Parker. Like he was trying to tell me something,” Rosie said, gathering her bearings. It wasn’t everyday she was visited by her deceased twin brother. “From beyond the grave?…Rosie, he’s gone,” Henry pondered. “I know, I just can’t shake this feeling. That he is… he’s.”

“What? Still alive? Honey, we buried him. You cried over him. If he was still alive don’t you think we would’ve shown his face by now. Wilson and Carter are gone, they have been for awhile now,” Henry explained, hoping it would bring her some solace. Henry wasn’t blind to the change in her demeanor, she did open up to him about being followed everywhere she went. “I guess you’re right. But my dreams feel so real,” Rosie whispered, lying back down. Ready to drift off into a deep sleep. One not tainted by the memory of Parker. “Go, back to sleep baby.” Henry said, he knew they would be getting up in a few hours anyway. Tomorrow was a very big day. Henry knew he and Rosie had been drifting but he was all set to give her the best birthday ever.

Henry had bought tickets for you and Tom to fly in for her birthday and stay for awhile. This time of year was hard for all of you but it wasn’t fair to Rosie. The day that is supposed to be about her has always been shared but now no one dared acknowledge it. It was just a reminder of what had been lost.

“Good morning, beautiful. Happy birthday,” Henry whispered, peppering her face in kisses as the morning sun shone through the curtains.

“Thank you,” Rosie sighed. Every year was a challenge. It got a little better every year but she knew she would never fully accept his absence.

“What do you have planned today?” Henry inquired, he was always one for big gestures. He absolutely hated that she no longer enjoyed her birthday.

As a kid she loved the idea of turning a year older, getting to grow up and getting loads of presents of course. You always made the priority of throwing the most perfect themed parties for Rosie and Parker. One year they had a pirate themed pool party with a treasure hunt and another a circus/carnival theme with fair games and a petting zoo. You loved going all out for their birthday. Just spoiling them in general.

Rosie and Parker, also Tom, can’t forget about him, made life worth living. You and Tom did everything for your kids, never wanting them to feel an ounce of sadness.

But the times had changed, you were no longer the mother to a son. It was just Rosie and you thanked God everyday that she was still there but your heart will forever be scarred.

Scars take forever to heal, sometimes never. There will never be a day when you don’t miss Parker or he doesn’t cross your mind. Everything you did from the moment he died was for him, in one way or another. You knew the grief would never stop but you hoped Rosie would one day be able to move on with life.

“You know…” Rosie murmured. “Oh yeah, say hi for me,” Henry nodded along remembering Rosie was going to spend the day next to her better half, Parker.

Rosie proceeded to get dressed and ready for the day. She wore a tight grey dress showing off the perfect curves of her body. And a pair of black high heels to complete her power woman ensemble. “Henry, you aren’t throwing me a party right? I really don’t want one,” Rosie inquired. Rosie would prefer to have all birthdays pass and wash away but she knew Henry wouldn’t allow that. At the most she would have a nice dinner with him and watch a movie.

“You’ll just wait to find out,” Henry grinned cheekily. In reality he was throwing her surprise party to help her find the joy in her birthday again.

“Henry seriously, not this year,” Rosie announced. “It’s never any year. You haven’t celebrated in 3 years. You need to get over this.”

“Get over what? The death of my twin brother?” Rosie asked, astounded at Henry’s previous statement. The nerve he had, wow.

“Roo, I’m sorry,” Henry tried to apologize but Rosie left in a huff.

“Talk later, Linus is waiting for me,” Rosie yelled, already walking out of the room. “Linus, you ready to go?” Rosie said, as she found him drinking coffee in her kitchen. He sat at the bar, legs dangling off the chair as she came down. “Yes, Roo,” he said, a little out of breath from taking the awe of her beauty.

“Please don’t call me that around Henry… What’s on the agenda?” Rosie asked Linus as she poured herself her own cup of coffee.

“Well, Shaw owes you 3 million and the deadline you gave him expired,” Linus explained, he knew Rosie hated having things held over her head. She would prefer to get them out of the way as soon as possible.

“Well then, let’s go pay him a visit. I could use a drink. Afterwards, can you drop me off at the cemetery?” “Of course, Roo,” Linus said. Rosie huffed in response, rolling her eyes at the name. Linus loved to get a rise out of Rosie. Her remarks to his comments were just a sign of their playful banter.Rosie’s relationship with Linus was complicated. They were partners, most of the time.

Rosie had gone really dark over the past years. There were days where she refused to get out of bed. Sitting in bed wasting the entire day away. Henry would come home from work and try his best to comfort her but after Parker he was just as lost as her. They lived in the same house but not truly together. Not as lovers, maybe as roommates.

All Rosie could feel were thoughts of hopelessness, desolation, and misery. Never being able to find that light at the end of the tunnel. She didn’t deserve to find it, thinking she was the one who pushed you and Tom away. Blaming herself for Parker. All these feelings and Henry wasn’t there, too busy with his own life.

One day, Rosie had gotten real low. Couldn’t find a way out so she went to the gun room grabbed the closest pistol, a bottle of scotch, a glass and sat in Tom’s office. She rested on Tom’s chair trying to find the will to end it all. To point the pistol and pull the trigger.

It would be so easy, the flick of a finger. No more pain. She tried not to think about everything she was giving up. Never seeing you or Tom again, or Henry. Never loving him again, if they ever did manage to find their way back to each others arms. Never experiencing the things that made life worth living.

All her thoughts were halted as Linus barged in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the broken girl hold a gun unto her temple, its safety clicked off. The room was cold as an icy chill ran down his spine.

“Rosie, what are you doing!?!” Linus thundered, trying to stop her before she pulled the trigger. “I don’t know. I think I’m trying to end it all,” Rosie whispered as tears streamed down her face. Deep down she didn’t want to pull the trigger, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“End what all? Your life?” Linus asked, trying to talk her off the metaphorical ledge. Something had to happen that pushed her to this point. Rosie had to be drowning and calling out for help but no one came. “No, it was never about killing myself. It was just about ending the pain and suffering,” she cried.

“Rosie, listen to me. There is so much more you have to live for. This will pass. Think about everything you are giving up.” Linus tried to appeal to the people she loved, you, Tom, and Henry. Losing Rosie would no longer make you a mother. How could Rosie take that away from you?

“I already have and it hasn’t, for 2 years. How do you know it will get any better?” Rosie begged for a true answer. She had been slumping around, letting the days pass her by as she stood silent, screaming non-vocally for help. Trapped in an asylum of misery. “I don’t. But I’ll be there to help you,” Linus exclaimed, giving her the truthful response she wanted. Rosie just needed to hear that she wasn’t alone in this world anymore. “No, you won’t. You’ll just leave like everyone else. Henry doesn’t love me anymore. My parents left. I’m all alone.” “Roo, you aren’t alone. Just hand me the gun and we can work this out. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here,” Linus pleaded. That was the first time he had used that nickname. The name had been reserved for only Henry, Parker and you. In that moment Rosie saw someone she missed so dearly in Linus, Parker. Parker was the only person who was 100% there for her. He was there to talk her off the ledge. He was there at her weakest and in a split second he was standing in front of her.

Rosie gave in, removing the gun from her temple, clicking the safety one and handing it over. She slowly stood up, coming over to Linus and collapsed in his arms. Rosie whispered a small “I missed you” as he held the broken girl. He was the only one who could pull her out. Not Henry, god she wished it was Henry. Linus understood her pain and didn’t try to fix everything.

Henry was the opposite. Constantly worrying about Rosie and trying to find a solution for everything. Things from the slightest backache to feelings of hopelessness. Rosie didn’t need fixing she just needed to be heard and Linus made sure she was. At Harmon’s, the bar was quite empty. Just Shaw and a few of his men. Shaw has borrowed money from Rosie to clear of a few charges. The Holland name had some pull in the legal community. Dating back to Dom’s days but Tom mostly laid down roots.

Linus entered first, firing two shots to take out Shaw’s capos. “Jesus Christ,” yelled Shaw as his protection thudded against the floor.

Rosie followed Linus in, making her presence known, “Shaw, you know I’m not a fan of people not staying true to their word. Do you have my money?”

“Rosie, doll. I paid you in full already. If this just your sad attempt to stir something up we can work this out another time. Shoo, let me finish my drink,” Shaw snickered. “Shaw, I know your games. You have 3 minutes to transfer my money right now. One for each million. I have Linus checking for a deposit of 3 million, make this simple and do it,” Rosie stated with an unchanging expression. “I need more time, that’s not enough. It’s all in separate accounts,” Shaw asserted, his voice starting to waver as he stared down the barrel of her pistol. “Well then, I’d hurry if I were you. Here’s your phone. Just wire the money… Starting now,” Rosie exclaimed as Linus devoted his stare to watch. Glancing at the seconds tick away.

“Fine, I’m going,” Shaw screamed, about to crack under the pressure.

“2 minutes left,” Linus chimed in. “Okay, I’m just inputing the dollar amount, it’s a lot of zeros.” Shaw tried to explain. He was about to lose his life because he was slow.

“50 secs.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6—“

“I’m done,” Shaw said, letting out the breath he was holding.

“That was fast but not fast enough,” Rosie whispered raising her gun square to the back of his head. Her finger slipped to the trigger and fired a shot.

BANG

“Wow, I didn’t think you actually kill him,” Linus said, impressed by her ruthlessness.

“He was getting on my nerves, besides he will never borrow money from me again if he is dead,” Rosie chuckled. “You know I found that really hot,” Linus whispered in her ear. “You always do.” Rosie grinned at his advances, trying to pull her close to his chest. “Hey, this can’t keep happening.”

“Oh, come on. You say that every time. I can’t hide my feelings for you anymore.”

“Well, you are going to have to. I was clear about what this was. So I’m going to ask you this once more time, what do you want?” “I want you.” “Well you can have me in the bathroom in 2 minutes.” “Roo, you’re too good to me,” Linus smirked, following her as she glided to the restroom.

Everything lasted about 30 mins. They were in and out in a flash. The bar now smelled of sex and a dead bodies. Linus was the first to finish, coming out of the bathroom looking disheveled as hell. Sporting the same juts had a quickie look. Linus went to pull the car around after fixing his hair in the mirror.

Linus would never be Henry and that was a good thing, Linus was different. By no circumstances was Rosie in love with Linus or will ever be in love with him, he was merely a distraction. Rosie knew her relationship with him was wrong but he made her feel alive once more.

Rosie emerged from bathroom breathing heavy, almost gasping for air, with sweat glistening on her chest. She straightened out her dress as combed down her hair. Stepping out of the doorway, the smell of a fresh rotting body hit her.

Rosie immediately turned around and lunged for the toilet. She had been in the business for 3 years and never before had her body reacted this way. She hurled into the toilet for a good ten minutes. Eventually bringing her head out of the toilet bowl to wipe off her mouth. The air was now coupled with sex, dead bodies and vomit. She was clueless to what forced her to keep her head in a toilet bowl.

After her nausea spell passed her, she had Linus drop her off near the cemetery. “Oh, you can drop me off here. I need something from the pharmacy anyways,”Rosie informed Linus. She was planning on picking up something for her stomach, it was very unlikely for her to throw up suddenly.

“Ok, Roo. Do you need a ride home?” Linus questioned.

“No, Jared is supposed to pick me up. Thank you,” Rosie exclaimed, getting out of the car. “Alright. Happy birthday by the way. Can I have a kiss goodbye?” “Thank you and no. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah for the party,” Linus called out slowly driving away. “Wait! What did you say?” Rosie remarked but he was already long gone.

Rosie was mentally kicking herself, she didn’t have the willpower to deal with a party tonight. She specifically told Henry, not to throw one but since when did he listen to her.

Their road to ultimately heartbreak was a two way street. Both of them had done something to warrant the loveless relationship. Rosie admitted to herself, that she eventually did stop trying. She stopped constantly asking if Henry wanted to go out for dinner and what time he would be home. Rosie prefers to blame Henry but in reality, she was then one who let go first.

Rosie stopped showing him love, too distraught by his every move because it was a constant reminder her brother wasn’t there anymore. Henry would try to work him into every little conversation, remembering Parker in everything. It grew too much for Rosie. Rosie had never been one for confronting her feelings, preferring to shove them down but how could she, when Henry would never shut up about Parker.

Parker was the main reason a wedge had been driven between them, but she wouldn’t dream of blaming her dead brother. Who couldn’t even defend himself. Rosie needed a reset after Parker but Henry was stuck living in the past.

Rosie was ready to start her life with Henry after graduation but he couldn’t let go. After a while, Rosie became just like him. Stuck drifting into a void of pure sadness. Rosie couldn’t let go, along with Henry. Their lives went in different directions, Rosie was blossoming into a ruthless leader who would only act soft around Parker, vowing to visit his grave everyday. And Henry got left behind at some point, not seeing how he fit in her life anymore.

In the pharmacy she scanned the aisles for some sort of quick remedy. If Henry was throwing her a surprise party, one she specifically asked not for. Rosie didn’t have days to recuperate, maybe a few hours.

She found the largest bottle of Pepto-Bismol and stopped by the card aisle. Carefully grasping a birthday card for her favorite person. One that was funny yet endearing. Parker was addicted to all the corned jokes she would crack. She made her way to the register. In front of her stood a little old woman, she wore a purple floral dress and her white stained hair was pulled into a clip.

“Just this for you sweetie? Oh, who’s birthday is it?” Asked the little lady, referring to the birthday card Rosie grabbed for Parker.

“My brother’s and um, could I also get this,” Rosie responded as her eyes glanced below her. Skimming over the candy bars, gum packets and eventually landing on a pregnancy test. Come to think of it, Rosie was late about a week and a half.

“Of course, honey. Would you like to use the restroom?” Queried the lady. Rosie nodded in response. She finished paying and quickly made her way to the restroom. Following the directions on the box carefully, she needed to be a hundred percent sure, before she told anyone.

Right around the corner was the cemetery. She glided through iron gates, walking across the cobble stone path before she came upon the place she loved most in the world. The place where she would hold nothing back, spilling everything to him.

Life of a mob boss was dangerous but things started to seem eerie for Rosie. She would feel weird presences or someone watching her at eerie times. The same feeling plagued her at the cemetery, today. She knelt down to the headstone, engraved in it read “Here Lies Parker Jackson Holland, Taken from us too soon, a son, a brother, and a friend.”

“Hey, P. You probably get tired of me visiting you. Everyday I’m here and sometimes I think I do it for my benefit more than yours. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy and most likely you are with Charlotte. I’m happy for you, Parker. No matter how much I wish you were here with me, I know that you are happy that you escaped this life. Happy 20th birthday.” Rosie whispered, fixing the flowers that began to wilt from yesterday.

“I have some really amazing news to share with you, but it will have to wait till next time. You can’t be the first person I tell, I’m sorry. He deserves to know before you…. Oh my god, you’ll never believe what happened at work…”

This is the one thing that brought Rosie solace. She persistently blames herself for that fateful night 3 years ago. Rosie would spend hours kneeling next to his headstone. She would tell him about her life and read off the postcards you and Tom sent from your travels. Talking to him as if he was still there.

Rosie glanced at her watch, it was half past five and she hadn’t even called Jared yet to pick her up. “I’m sorry P, I gotta go. Henry, god love him but, that bastard is throwing me a birthday party. I guess I should at least make an appearance. I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you.” Rosie said, walking towards the parking lot.

She stood under the gate for ten minutes waiting for Jared to arrive and escort her home. The weather completely shifted as the sun set around her. The once blue sky changed to one painted with vibrant yellows and pinks. The sky was a sight not to be missed but she could do without the freezing winds that accompanied.

A chill ran down her spine as she waited in the darkness. Feeling a sensation that only warranted panic. Rosie felt someone watching her once again. Maybe from a far or up close, but she definitely wasn’t alone. It was silly that she let feelings like those get to her. She was a mob boss for god sakes, scaring even the most menacing of men into submission.

Rosie eyes started darting everywhere a noise left. In the corner of her eye she caught a figure drenched in shadows approaching. She tried to scramble for her gun, but soon realized she left it in Linus’s car.

The stranger kept making advances and managed to get to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a cloth to her mouth. Causing her to be consumed in darkness as her body grew limp.

Back at the manor, Henry was setting everything up perfectly. His mission was to make Rosie love her birthday once more. While Henry was working hard at hanging the birthday banner and decorating every corner with balloons, Linus was no help at all. Lounging on the couch and finishing a beer.

“So are you going to pick up Rosie and get off your ass?” Henry barked, pulling the coffee out from under Linus, causing him to spill his beer.

“Seriously, dude. What’s your problem?” Linus snapped.

“My problem is my girlfriend isn’t here. Aren’t you supposed to pick her up?” “No, Jared is.” “Linus, Jared is here. He has been for a few hours. Where is she?” Henry questioned, starting to worry. “I don’t know. Last, I left her at the cemetery.” “Henry! It’s so good to see you,” you cheered as Tom and you walked in. Hugging Henry after not seeing him for awhile. It still pained you to visit, traveling was the perfect distraction.

“Hope you have been taking care of yourself, son. Where’s Rosie?” Tom questioned. “Yeah, I’ve been good. At the moment, I don’t know where she is. She’s missing,” Henry concluded. You and Tom stood completely still as you processed the news. It wasn’t everyday that your daughter would disappear into thin air, but her job did keep her life in danger.Rosie missing was uncommon. It had happened once or twice in the past but that was 3 years ago. So much had changed, for the better. Yet, you were once again in the same place, in the house you left because everything was too familiar. Rosie missing was all too familiar.

Rosie came to. Opening her eyes to a place she chose to forget. For all she knew it was an exact replica. Warehouses riddled all of London’s ports, she could be anywhere.

“Text your driver and tell him Henry picked you up for a special birthday dinner,” Rosie’s kidnapper barked, thrusting a phone in front of her.

“Really? You kidnapped me? After 3 years of being leader of London’s most feared mob, it’s like been there done that. Do you want money or something? I have a party to get to.” Rosie quipped, annoyed with they man’s pursuits.

“Oh, I know. I believe happy birthday is granted. 20 years is a milestone.”

“Whatever, I don’t really like my birthday anyway.”

“Wanna talk about it?” The stranger pestered on. Rosie had learned lesson from the last time she was restrained to chair, rope around her wrists and ankles, ceasing blood flow. This time it was zip ties, a little basic for any mobster she has had a run with.

“No. I want you to let me go. Seriously, what do you want? I don’t think you know who I am. Or who my father is,” Rosie asserted.

“A moment alone together is all I ask and I know exactly who you are and who your dad is. Correction, who our dad is.”

“Parker.”

A/n: Finally the end. Alright, I'm going to bed. There is no set schedule for the sequel series, I'm just going to post a chapter when I finish writing it. Let me know if you like to be tagged in the sequel chapters.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy @quaksonhehe @housepartyprotocol

[spideymarvelws]

Always But Not Forever

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My TagList

Summary : During the interrogation of a mole, Tom learns something

A/n : I want to write something for the holidays but i dont do fluff (unless its requested) so here’s a angsty mob!au instead

Warnings : Torchere, blood, violence, cursing, illusion do death, fluff if you squint (dont worry it doesnt last long), mention of injuries, mention of manipulation, implied death?

Word Count : 1.7k

...

“You know, I almost admire the audacity you must’ve had to pull off something like this,” Tom chuckled, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up, “To betray us, to betray me,”

The pads of his fingers passed over the array of equipment laid out on the table in front of him, teasing the handles of guns, knives and other various torchere devices. Usually, he would just grab his trusty blade from the holder on his belt, slicing the person's throat to watch them bleed out on the chair, coughing and pleading for their life.

But this was a special occasion, one he wanted to drag on for as long as possible. He wanted to hear her screams fill the room, echoing its way around the warehouse. He wanted the floor to be soaked in her blood, dripping from her skin. He wanted to watch her life drain from her eyes slowly and painfully.

But first, he needed to get answers.

“So,” he said slowly, “Are you going to tell me why? Or do I have to force out out of you,”

The woman only chuckled, her eyes hooded as she stared him straight in the eye, “I think we both know the answer to that Tommy,”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growled, striding up and grabbing her throat with enough force to lean the chair back, not caring if it were to fall and break on the hard, concrete floor.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” she fake pouted, “I thought you loved the name? Or is it only reserved for your whore of a wife,”

“You really want to die don’t you,” Tom chuckled darkly, bending down to look her directly in the eyes, face inches apart, “You’re on thin fucking ice,”

“And I want to shatter it,” she sneered, leaning her own face forward as much as she could with the restraints tied around her, “Just like I did your best pals heart,”

Tom felt his chest tighten at the mention of Harrison. He would never blame the blond for what happened, because despite the guilt he held, he knew that it wasn't his fault. He blamed himself for getting his friend in the hospital on his deathbed. Well maybe not that drastic, Harrison was a hard fucker to get rid of, he knew that no matter what he would hang on  but it felt like he had already lost him.

He couldn't get the images out of his head, the flashes of red, screams pounding in his ear. But the sight of her standing above his best friend, gun in hand, ready to fire. The thought alone made his go feral.

And he hated that, he hated that she knew how to get under his skin so easily. After getting so close, to not just him but his close family, his friends, to you. He could already picture the hurt that would spread across your face when he would tell you. You both valued close bonds with people, building that relationship to something reliable, something worth trusting.

So when that trust was broken, all hell broke loose.

“I’m sure you’ll do just a fine job at that,” he muttered, standing back straight up, “And the moment you do I’ll put a bullet between your eyes,”

“Oh we both know you couldn't do that Tommy,” she smirked, “Not when I have so much valuable information that you so desperately need,”

Tom chuckled, picking up a syringe filled with a light blue liquid. His fingers flicked the cover before taking it fully off, revealing the needle to the open air, “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he turned back around to face her, his face void of emotion, “Gag her,”

Him and his men had spent the next, god knows how long trying countless methods and tactics they always used to get people like her to talk. But nothing worked, even after repeatedly taking out the gag, waiting for the answers they had been searching for, she didn't budge.

She stayed completely stoic.

Tom tried his best to keep calm, unbuttoning the top of his shirt when his breath became restraint with the added pressure to around his neck

“It wouldn't matter anyways,” she sniffed, finally calming down while spitting out a wad of blood from her mouth, “I’ve already gotten what I wanted,”

“What the fuck is that suppose too mean,” Tom said exasperatedly.

“It means-,” she interrupted herself while trying to stop the sick laughter threatening to erupt from her throat, “I never thought you cared so much about me Tommy, to spend so long with me when-,” she tilted her head to the side, “You have a wife at home don’t you?”

Tom felt his heart stop, “What did you do?”

“Might want to check that little wifey of yours Tommy,” she cackled, blood splattering from her mouth, staining the collar of her shirt and the floor in front of her, “Who knows how much time she might have left!”

“WHAT! The fuck! Did you do!” He screamed, clutching her bloody shirt in his fists, not caring if some of the liquid transferred to his already red hands.

“You left me alone, with Y/n, for months,” she giggled, “What do you think I did?”

“If you hurt her-,”

“You’ve already done your worst to me Holland,” the grin settling on her face became unsettling, “Now it’s my turn to watch you suffer,”

Tom didn't want to question her further. He didn't want his temper to take over the little control he tried to maintain over his mind. With a short gruff he pulled away from the woman, walking over to one of his men stationed by the door of the warehouse.

“Break her legs and take her to the hut, prepare the call and get Dr brown on the phone and tell Sam to get to Y/n as soon as possible,” he whispered under his breath, “Take me back home to my wife,”

...

“Good Girl,” you yawned, lazily scratching the top of Tessa’s head. It had been a chill day for you in the mansion, lounging around in your husband's clothes while you decorated your section of the building, preparing for the holidays. Tom insisted on getting decorators, knowing how clumsy you were, he didn't want you to hurt yourself. At least that’s the excuse he told you, you knew it was because he didn't want you doing any work on your holidays. 

Nevertheless, you were proud of the work you’ve done, the lights strung along your bedroom walls illuminating the room, making your placement by the window feel more cozy than usual. And with the addition of the cutest dog and a mug of ginger tea, staring out into the snowy garden never felt more calming. The only thing that would make this better is to be cuddled with your personal teddy bear, but your prayers were answered when he called unexpectedly.

“Hi Tommy,” you answered sweetly, gulping down a good bit of the tea,“What’s wrong? I thought you were busy with work?”

“Y/n?” Tom said seriously, a hard edge to his voice you never heard when he talked directly to you, “Y/n, you need to listen to me right now, okay?”

“Okay,” you sat up, throwing your blanket off your lap, “Okay, yeah,” you learnt not to question things like these with Tom’s line of work.

“Where are you right now?” you could hear the click of his shoes hitting the floor in the background, the sound of the vehicle's engines vroomed to life.

“I’m in our bedroom, with Tessa,” you answered quickly, squinting your eyes when you watched her body bounce away when your hand retracted from her fur, “Well just me now,” 

“You’re going to need to go to the medic bay, Doctor Brown will be there and he’ll explain everything,” a car door slammed shut, “Sam is coming to escort you, just,” he let out a deep breath, “Are you alright?”

You melted at the crack in his voice, clearing your throat before answering him, “I’m fine Tommy, never felt better,”

“Are you sure love?” he whispered, his voice losing its harsh tone, falling back to the soft, breathy one you grow to love.

“I’m-,” you moved away from the phone, coughing into your sleeve, “Sorry, uh, yeah I’m fine Tom,”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re okay to me,”

“I-,” you coughed again, this time more violently that the last, “It’s just a cough, probably from that food truck we went out to last night,” you forced a chuckle, trying to keep the air as light hearted as possible.

“A cough? When did this start,” Tom said urgently.

���Uh, this morning i think?” you sniffled, shuffling around to find a tissue box for your sudden runny nose, “I’m sure it’s just a bug Tommy,”

“Y/n, Is Sam there yet?”

“I didn’t hear him no,” your coughing continued, “Do you want me to go outside to check?”

“No, no, stay until he comes, I don’t want you going by yourself,”

Tom’s words began to blur when you took note of the red sploshing your white hoodie. You ran to the bathroom, cursing at the blood trailing from your nose, staining the bottom half of your face.

Your raging coughs continued, splattering droplets across the marble counter

“Love? Are you still there?” Tom said panicked, “Sam said he’s moving as quick as he can,”

“Tommy,” you whimpered, your hand clutching your chest in pain, “I-,” you braced yourself against the counter, feeling weaker and weaker, “Tommy, I don’t-,”you grabbed at your closing throat, “I don’t feel so good,” 

“Love? Y/n?” Tom said frantically, “Hey, hey, hey, listen to me, Sam is almost there, I’m so close to our house, hang in there okay?” he debated his next words, “You’ve been poisoned okay? You’ve been poisoned and if you get the help in time you will get better, just,” his voice hitched, “Please don’t go,”

Your throat burned as your breath started to become short, hiccupy wheezes. Blood began to drip from your nose and mouth onto the tiled floor. You could feel your chest tighten, your heart physically hurting until you couldn't take in any longer.

“Tom-my?” you managed to let out before collapsing on the floor, the shouts of your name echoing in the back of your ear before blackness covered your eyesight, followed by a bright, white light.

...

Permanent TagList : @jadegill​ @joyleenl​ @sarcastic-sunset-7​

[words-for-holland]

Apple Tree Kisses | T.H.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: The boys take Y/N out for apple picking on their day off. Much fun. Much cuteness. And lots and lots of apples.

A/N: So maybe another mini installment of fall adventures with Tom? Well see how it goes. Hoenstly dont even know I feel about this one lol.

“We’re going apple picking this fall right?” Y/N asked the boys as they all sat down, scrolling through their phone in their cozy Berlin suite. Neither letting out an answer, as they all sighed in unison.

“Right?” Y/N asked again. “Tom, right?” She playfully shoved his shoulder hoping to grab her boyfriend’s attention. Y/N could easily see the slight smirk that grew on his face. Of course, Tom was never one to ignore his girlfriend, but he loved to tease her when it came to doing things she really wanted to do. In all the years they’ve been together, he knew Y/N was the most indecisive person in the world but when she knew what she wanted...she knew exactly what she wanted and would go the distance to get it.

“Mmm I dont know Y/N. We might be busy.” He chuckled, his pink sleeves engulfing Y/N in a cozy bear hug.

“Cmonnn. It’ll be fun. We cant miss it this year. It’s tradition.” She reasoned.

“I know Darling. Soon. I promise.” Tom gave her a chaste kiss on her slightly chapped frown, which slowly turned into the smile he always loved to see.

Needless to say, soon came a lot faster than Y/N anticipated. As she wrapped up a few emails from work, Tom, Harry, and Sam stood before her, leaning over the table, giving the Goofy Holland smile. “Whats up with you three?” Y/N giggled.

“We’re going on a trip. So you better get ready.” Sam answered as he walked away.

“Better hurry up before we leave you.” Harry joked around as he made his way out as well.

“I do suggest you wear something cute. I mean, you always look cute. You’re perfect, but Im just saying that red plaid shirt you got in the closet...just does things to me.” He groans, making his way to their room to get ready as well.

Y/N playfully rolls her eyes and scoffs out a chuckle. Of course all the boys finished up before her as they head to the car waiting for Y/N. She appears, wearing Tom’s suggestion with a white top undeneath the plaid shirt and black leggings, opening the door and sitting beside her giddy boyfriend, who was smiling from ear to ear. He sported a denim jacket and pants with a white shirt underneath and navy blue baseball hat, much like his character Arvin from Devil All the Time. Of course Tom very well knew, this look did things to Y/N after the first time she saw the film with him, making comments about how hot he looked as a southern bad boy. “Well you’re looking mighty fine there miss.” Tom flirts, displaying his southern accent for Y/N.

“Why thank you kind sir. You’re not too bad yourself.” She responds back, smirking at his comment. Tom leans in quickly to give her a small peck...only to go back in for another. And another..and another...

“Ugh, can we save the flirting and snogging till after the car ride. Please. Im trying to keep my lunch down for the next hour.” Harry groaned in the front seat.

“Sorry Harry.” The love birds mumble as they sit in their respective seats.

For those wondering, Harry did indeed survive the hour drive while keeping his lunch in tact. The group arrived at the German apple orchard called Alstead farms where they were dropped off at front.

Y/N took in her surroundings. Seeing the fall foliage, with autumn colored leaves sprinking the walkways, the sounds of the busy stands of food and fresh produce, the smell of freshly fried apple cider donuts it reminded her exactly why fall was her favorite season.

“Cmon darling, you’re supposed to be day dreaming about me not those apple cider donuts.” Tom teases as he grabs her hand in his.

“Trust me mate, I wouldnt blame Y/N if she was. Those donuts were absolutely amazing..” Sam muffled as he shoved another donut in his mouth.

“Oi, you already got yours?! And didnt even bother to share?” Harry questioned as he tried to grab the crumbled bag of sugary goodness.

Sam rolled his eyes at he reluctantly lent his last donut to his brother. The four grabbed their wagon, maps, and bags, ready to gather as much apples as they could. They went row by row, picking up macintosh, fuji, honey crisps, and empires. They tasted each one closing their eyes in delight, and scrunching their faces with ones that werent so sweet.

Harry took pictures of the surrounding and as he turned around he was given the perfect angle to capture a sweet moment between Tom and Y/N.

The two had their hands interlaced as they admired one tree with golden hues on the apple. Tom leaned in towards Y/N’s ear as he told her a funny apple pun, kissing the top of her head. When Y/N turned around to hear the clicks of the camera, she proceeded to cross her eyes and stick her tongue out.

“Thats attractive.” Harry comments with a hint of sarcasm as he looks through his camera. They all knew how camera shy Y/N got when she was aware of her picture being taken. In her words, posing for the camera while acting natural, made her feel like an awkward deer that’s about to get run over over....Dont ask, its a long story. “Okay, wait the lighting and this tree is perfect though. I want you and Tom up on that tree.” He commanded as he pointed at the sturdy tree with curly branches.

“Uhh...you sure about this?” Y/N asked, in an apprehensive tone. “What if I fall?”

“Oh c’mon darling you know I wont let you.” Tom said as he grabbed her hand to reassure you. “I’m not gonna let you fall. Ill hold on to you the entire time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Sam, hold the apples for them and I’m begging you to please not eat my share.” Harry groaned at the thought.

Tom and Y/N had situated themselves on the tree not as high up from the ground as they had anticipated. At first they took a photostanding up. Tom towering over her as he stepped onto the higher branch, one arm hanging on the branch above him and another holding onto Y/N’s hand. They smiled and looked into each others eyes completely forgetting that they were on a tree and Harry was taking their pictures. Y/N took his navy hat and placed it on her own as they laughed. Tom licked his lips at the sight and couldnt help but to lean in, “You look so hot right now.”

“Oh god, stop you know thats not true.” Y/N giggles as her cheeks are tinted with a light pink blush. Tom continued to look at her smiling, and buting his lips. He really couldnt contain himself when she was acting this adorable. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Tom laughs out loud at her comment. “But I kinda do...like everyday.”

“TOM WERE IN PUBLIC!” She squeals covering face.

“Okay love birds, stop the flirting and give me one more pose. If you can manage just kiss each other without falling, I think it’d be perfect.” Harry instructs.

“Dont have to tell me twice, brother.” Tom replies as he looks down at Y/N, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Tom he said kiss not snogg, dont get any ideas. We’re in public!” Sam yelled out.

“You three are such debbie downers, I swear.” Tom pouts.

“Yeah yeah, come on lover boy.” Y/N says curling her index finger to gesture him to lean forward. Tom happily accepts, as he leans down pressin his lips against her soft glossed ones. They stayed like this for sometime, feeling the slight tingles that came with it. Slowly...so very slowly did they pull away, but only for Tom to come in for two small pecks...three...well maybe four...Okay five but that was it.

“Wow...these actually came out good.” Harry said atonished by how well he captured the sweet moment between his brother and Y/N. Tom who was very excited to see how their came out, jumped down from the tree as he made his way towards Harry. Meanwhile Y/N took her time trying to make sure she didnt completely fall off the tree. Sam was watching Y/N as he had his phone recording her. He didnt think there would be much but knowing how clumsy she was anything was game.

She was barely 2 feet off the ground, but for some reason it felt like the empire state building. “Wha-Okay.” She speaks out as she takes a leap of faith. Y/N sticks the landing, she walks toward Sam, Tom, and Harry with confidence that only lasted 0.5 seconds.

Thump

“WHAAA.” Y/N sqeuals, as the branch hits her straight on the face.

While all three boy were heavily concerned, they couldnt help but laugh so hard at what happened to poor Y/N.

“IM SO GLAD I GOT THAT ON VIDEO.” Sam yells out, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

“My god that was priceless. Please send that to me.” Harry says emoting the same expression as his twin brother.

“Darling, are you okay?” Tom says stifling a laugh, as he checks her precious face. “How did you manage to hit the tree?”

“Honestly I dont know.” She cries laughing. “These things just happen.”

“It’s okay.” Tom places feather light kisses on the corner of her eye. “C’mon lets get you an apple cider donut.”

“This is going on instagram I hope you know that.” Harry yells out as the couple walks away.

[filmsmakkari]

It's Quiet Uptown

Wordcount- 1.4k

Hamilton!Tom Holland x Angelica!Reader

Tom Holland x Princess!Reader

I would recommend listening to the song here!

Full Series Masterlist

-Forgive me for the abrupt ending on this one, my ending worked better as a beginning for the next part :)

Years came and went, and eventually your nephew, Phillip, with whom you’d grown quite close, graduating from King’s College. You couldn’t have been more proud of him, but you were also slightly fearful. He had confided in you that he felt that as a college graduate, it was time to come into his own. “I must be my own man, like my father, but bolder,” he had said to you. Thomas must have been the boldest person you, or anyone your age would see in your lifetimes, so you feared what Phillip would do.

You feared he would do something outlandish, perhaps he would challenge every member of parliament to a duel or maybe he would marry one of those lovely young ladies that he’d met in the town square- Sasha and Ariana you believed they were called- and which ever one he didn’t marry he would invite to the consummation. You never could have guessed what he actually decided to do. You wished you had been there, you knew you could have talked it out of it, but when the event took place you were back in Jimbaari for a royal ceremony.

You were drafting a letter to your mourning brother in law- dear Peggy’s husband- to offer your condolences when your lady-in-waiting, Kiara of Cinera, rushed in with a letter in her hand. You looked up at her, confused at the sad expression on her face.

“Oh, (Y/N), I’m note sure how to tell you this, but Phillip… he was… he was killed in a duel with that lawyer, George Baker.”

Your heart dropped. Your eyes immediately filled with tears. “What?”

“Baker spoke against Thomas during the Victory Day parade. He disparaged Thomas’ legacy so Phillip challenged him to a duel, but before Phillip could walk ten paces, George turned around and shot him at seven- (Y/N/N), I’m so sorry.”

Your mind was going a million miles a minute. Nothing made sense. “No, no, I don’t understand… Phillip is the most gentle, caring soul I have ever had the pleasure to know- I... he would never… be involved in something like this.”

Kiara nodded sadly. “Yelizaveta and Thomas have decided to move uptown- to Irecabeth. In Thomas’ correspondence he beckoned you to their new home.”

You tried to reorganize your thoughts. Your dearest sister and the only man you’d ever truly loved were going through the unimaginable, and you needed to be there for them.

You sniffled, saying shakily “Um, yes, begin packing immediately and book passage on a ship to Irecabeth. I will write a letter to them.”

You did just as you said you would, picking up a quill and a fresh piece of paper, writing with shaking hands on a tear stained page.

It Read:

My Dearest, Eliza,

Words cannot express the deep sorrow I feel. The news that our dearest Phillip has passed away has brought me a sense of grief too terrible to name. As parents, we must hold our children as tight as we can, in turn  pushing away the unimaginable. Tomorrow I will find myself riding my most darling horse, Mignonette, through the gardens of Jimbaarian Court to review our troops. I find it most difficult to fathom the mere idea of doing such a thing with this news weighing on me. It is my opinion, that there are moments in life where you are in the melancholy sea so deep, it feels impossible to keep yourself afloat, so you think it prudent to simply swim down. It is this sea of gloominess in which I currently feel trapped.

My thoughts and sympathy are with you and our dear Thomas as you face this loss beyond compare. To bear a child is to know for the first time in one’s life, true love, And, on the other hand, to lose a child is to know true pain. I cannot begin to imagine feeling such devastation. I wonder how the lord in his goodness could deal such a fatal blow to our family.

My usual eloquence seems to have left me, as I seemingly cannot produce more words on this subject. In closing, I would like to note I accept your invitation, and will do my best to make my way to Irecabeth as soon as possible.

Votre sœur la plus aimante, affectueuse et vraie,

(Y/N), Empress of Jimbaari

You were back in Larione in what felt like an eternity later, when in truth it had only been a few days. You approached Thomas and Eliza’s new home, the picture of grief, your long black cloak trailing behind you as you walked. When you knocked in the door, it was opened by a very different Thomas than when you’d last seen him. Much of his hair had gone grey, and there were dark circles around his eyes.

His eyes widened at the sight of you. “Oh, (Y/N).” He immediately grabbed you, engulfing you in a tight hug. You reciprocated, wrapping your arms around him as well. His body racked with sobs as he cried into your shoulder.

“It’s been so difficult, (Y/N). So difficult. Phillip… Phillip never hurt a soul, (Y/N), he must have been so scared.”

Tears filled your eyes as Thomas essentially restated your words to Kiara, only said differently. You slowly rocked the both of you back and forth, two parents grieving the loss of a child. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not your feelings for him, not the Reynolds Pamphlet, not Anthony Monroe, or Christopher Jefferson, or Aaron Blackwell.

You managed to compose yourself enough to ask about Eliza’s whereabouts.

“She’s out back, in the garden.”

You smiled and nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek before making your way to your sister.

She looked like the living dead. Her eyes weren’t focused, she was just staring off into the distance, her face was stained with tears, the whites of her eyes were red. If your heart hadn’t already been ripped apart, it certainly would have shattered in that moment, seeing your sister that way.

“Oh, Eliza,” you said, rushing over to the planter on which she was sitting.

Her eyes came into focus, brightening up at the sight of her dearest older sister.

“(Y/N)!” she cried out.

You ran to each other, meeting in the middle and hugging tightly.

“Oh, my dear girl. I wish it might be in my power by actions rather than words to ease your pain.”

“Oh, sister, it brings me unimaginable joy to see you here now,” she released you from the hug, walking you both back to the planter and taking a seat. “Especially now that our dear sweet Peggy has passed on, your presence is of the utmost comfort.”

You stayed in Larione for weeks, comforting your sister and brother in law, as well as your adoring nieces and nephews, most of whom did not understand that their dearest loving, protective, gentle older brother was never, ever, coming back. Most of all, you watched out for your oldest niece, (Y/N).

You were her namesake, and you two had always been close. She’d been the closest with Phillip, the pair of them had been inseparable. When she heard of her brother’s passing, she suffered a mental breakdown, which lead to what the doctor’s said would be a lifetime of insanity. She still spoke of her brother. It was as if he hadn’t died at all. It had pained you so deeply that you had to leave the room when you were playing the piano together and she said, “Oh, we simply must perform for Phillip! He and I have been working on this song for ages!”

The pain was almost unbearable. You found yourself contemplating if life was worth all the suffering. You had never had your own children with your husband, so you had always held Phillip and (N/S) in the same regards you would have held your own children.

One day, you were reading a book near an open window. You saw a movement out of the corner of your eye, and when you looked up you saw Thomas and Eliza, standing close. She took his hand, and said so quietly, “It’s quiet uptown.”

You sighed, a soft smile decorating your face. “Forgiveness. Can you imagine?”

The grace with which Eliza was handling the situation was almost too powerful to name. Perhaps seeing your sister dealing with the situation with such courage is what inspired you to begin to rebuild your contentment.

And little by little, you did. Little by little, it got better.

[jk-unless]

Tuwaine’s Friend

Pairing(s):Tom Holland x Black!Reader,Platonic!Tuwaine Barrett x Black!Reader

Warnings: None

Not Requested

~*~

You and Tuwaine became fast friends while he was visiting the states back in 2015. You ran into each other at a McDonalds.A middle aged woman was making a big scene about her order being made wrong.Tuwaine,who was in front of you in line,turned towards you and asked you if this was something that happened often.

“You mean at McDonalds?Have you never been here?”You asked,more curious than trying to be rude.

“Oh,I actually meant the states in general.” He clarified.The use of the term “the states” made everything click.

“Oooh,you’re not from here!Yeah,sadly,this is a pretty normal thing.It’s best to get a woman like her’s order exactly right the first time or there will be a scene.”

Tuwaine sighs in frustration. “I’m just trying to eat.”

“Don’t worry,it won’t be too much longer before she storms off.”You comforted him.As you said this,the woman let out a final obnoxious sigh.

“I will be calling corporate about this!” She angrily grabbed her takeout bag and stomped out of the restaurant.

“Thank God.” Tuwaine muttered quietly so only you could hear him.You giggled as he walked up to the counter.The cashier apologized about the scene to which Tuwaine assured her it was alright.He gave her his order then turned to you again.

“...And whatever the nice lady behind me wants.”

Your eyes widened a bit.”You sure?” You asked,taken back by the kindness.He nodded with a small smile.You thanked him then proceeded with your order.

The two of you ate together and talked about anything that came to mind.He eventually explained to you that it was actually his last day there before he went back home.Not wanting this to be last time you talked to the sweet guy, you decided to exchange numbers to keep in touch.

~*~

Now in present day,Tuwaine fools around with Tom between scenes of Spider-Man:Far From Home.As Tuwaine laughs about something with Tom,he gets a text from one of the staff members that someone by the name of Y/N L/N was there to see him.

“Oh shit,she’s here!” He exclaimed,jumping up out of his spot.

“Wait,the girl you mentioned earlier?I’m not ready!” Tom says,dramatically running to the nearest mirror to try to fix his hair.

“You’re Tom Holland,she’ll be happy to see you no matter what you look like.” He rolls his eyes at his friend’s desperate attempt to look more put together.In a matter of minutes,the two of them hear a knock on the door of Tom’s trailer.Tuwaine whips open the door and smiles when he sees you.He pulls you in and tackles you in a bear hug to which let out a startled and happy laugh.Tom smiles at the pure interaction in front of him.As Tuwaine let’s go of you,he finally introduces the two of you.

“Tom,Y/N.Y/N,Tom.” He motions between the two of you.

“Hi,it’s really nice to meet you.” Tom says with a bright smile that makes your face heat up.These are times where you’re happy that your melanin hides your shyness.

“Nice to meet you too,Tom.And may I just say,you’re even more attractive in person.”You say,making it Tom’s turn to blush.You discreetly watch in the corner of your eye as Tuwaine rolls his eyes.

“I can say the same about you!The pictures Tuwaine showed me didn’t do you justice.”Tom chuckles a bit as he remembers one pic in particular.”Especially the one where-“ Tuwaine quickly shushes him to save his own skin.Tom slapped a hand over his mouth,but it was too late.You menacingly turned towards you’re old friend.

“You showed Tom Holland an embarrassing picture of me?!”Before Tuwaine could even properly explain himself,Tom was called onto set.He quickly excused himself and told the two of you that he’ll be back in a bit.You watched him exit the trailer,then turned towards Tuwaine once again.He smiled nervously.

“You don’t have to go with him?” You asked,motioning to the door to which Tuwaine explained that he already filmed his scene.He tensed as you moved towards him,not expecting the hug that came after.

“You’re lucky I’ve missed ya ass too much to be mad at you.” You begrudgingly told him.He let out a sigh of relief and hugged you back.

“Oh,thank God.You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

~*~

As the day went on,the three of you actually spent a lot of time together.Even Jake,Zendaya,and Jacob would join you guys once in a while.And let me tell you,your heart was not ready for any of those interactions.You literally almost cried when Zendaya introduced herself to you.During you guys’ down time together,you’d often catch Tom sneaking glances at you.You didn’t want to get your hopes up,so you dismissed it as just him being curious of the person who seemed to mean so much to his dear friend.You really wanted to stay around all of these lovely people, but at around 1:00 in the morning you realized filming wasn’t going to end anytime soon and that you should probably turn in for the night.When you made this decision,it was only you in Tuwaine in the trailer.

“Tutu,I think I’m gonna head to the hotel now.” You announced,using the embarrassing nickname that you first gave him about three months into your friendship.He watched as you started to gather your things.”

Yeah,it is getting pretty late.You want me to come with you?”Tuwaine asked.You looked down with mock shyness and muttered “If you don’t mind.”He rolled his eyes and huffed at your antics.As the two of you made your way out of the trailer,he mentioned that you guys should inform Tom you were leaving.You agreed and the two of you headed towards the set.You made sure they weren’t filming before approaching Tom as he got his suit adjusted by a stylist.He smiled as he caught sight of the two of you,then realized you had you’re stuff in your hands.

“Oh,are you guys leaving?” He asked and pouted at you.His cute frowny face caught you off guard,but luckily Tuwaine answered for the both you.

“Yeah,this one here isn’t really used to being out so late.” He said motioning to you.”Not mention the slight time zone changed has me feeling a little off.” You added.

“Oh,no it’s fine,I totally get it.” Tom said,quick to reassure you that there was no problem.”So uhh,I’ll see you later,man.” He said,dapping Tuwaine off then turning to you with his arms open.”May I?” He asked.You giggled at his politeness and gave him an enthusiastic “Yeah,sure!” The hug was quick,but warm and overall really pleasant.As you were still holding each other,he muttered “It was really nice to meet you.” You smiled grew as you replied “You too,Tom.”

The two of you broke away and you and Tuwaine told him a final bye over your shoulder as you made your way to exit.

~*~

Like the good friend Tuwaine is,he got you safely to your hotel room and made sure you had everything you needed.He planned on staying with you for a bit,then realized that you were quite literally about to pass out.He turned off the lights for you as you plopped yourself down on your bed.Before he could fully close the door behind him.His text tone went off.He unlocked his phone to see that the text was from Tom.

Hey,you still around Y/N?

Tuwaine starred oddly at his phone.

Uh no,she’s passed out on her bed and I’m heading to my room.Why?

Okay,good!I got some questions.

You’re questions can wait,I need a shower.

Tuwaine replied as he set his things down in his own room.

DON’T LEAVE ME!! Tom dramatically texted back.Tuwaine shook his head at the text,threw his phone on the bed,and went to the bathroom to start his shower.

About half an hour later,Tuwaine came out of the shower and picked up his phone again.His attention was brought to a notification of a new text from Tom.

Tom: I hate you 😡

Tuwaine simply rolled his eyes,completely used to his friend’s dramatics. Sure you do.And we were literally in the same place like less than an hour ago,why didn’t you ask your qUeSTIonS then?

Tom: Because she was RIGHT THERE!

EXACTLY SO WHY DIDN’T Tuwaine began to write out,then realized what Tom meant by his text.Oooooh THOSE type of questions.Are they something on the lines of is she single?Maybe even her body count? Tuwaine asked,deciding to tease him.

Tom: SHUT TF UP ITS NOT LIKE THAT

Well maybe the first question...

I truly can’t stand you.

Tuwaine: You want the answer to your question or not?

Tom: 😐

Tuwaine: No she’s not seeing anyone 🙄

Tom: ...Set me up a date with her.

At that moment,Tuwaine really wished Tom was in his room with him just so he could see the look of disbelief on his face. Bruv I know you haven’t been on a date in a while,but that is definitely something you do YOURSELF.

Tom: But she makes me hella nervous!

Tuwaine: When did you start using the word hella?You’ve been spending too much time with Zendaya.

Tom: Can’t really help that when she’s,well,my literal love interest.

Tuwaine: Keep that attitude up and I’ll tell Y/N that you shit yourself in your sleep.

Tom: If you tell her that,you’ll have to say goodbye to my fans for me bc I’d literally throw myself off of the nearest building.

Tuwaine: You do that like every day on set,nothing new really.

Tom: I have to go arsehole.Please just send me her number.

Tuwaine: Sure.Don’t die while doing stunts or whatever.

Tom: Love you too Tuwaine 🥰😘❤️❤️😊

Tuwaine couldn’t help but laugh at the text as he put his phone on his charger and finally climbed into bed to rest.

~*~

Yow woke up at around 8:00am to a text from an unknown number.The text read Hey,it’s Tom!I hope you don’t mind that Tuwaine gave me your number.You smiled at the text and mentally noted to thank Tuwaine later. Oh I don’t mind at all 😊 What’s up Tom?Well I guess filming right?😂 You cringed at your reply but it was too late to delete it.You got a reply in less than a minute.

Tom: lol we actually got a lot done last night so I’m free for the day!

You: Oh cool!You got any plans for your day off?

I was actually hoping I could take you out for lunch? Tom surprised himself at his sudden confidence.He thought he’d end up giving you small hints that he wanted to hang out until eventually you were the one to ask.

You: I’d love to!What time were you thinking?

Tom: Can I pick you up for 12:00?

You: 12:00 would be just fine 😌 See you then!

Tom: See you then!

You were over the fucking moon.Tom Holland,one of your biggest celebrity crushes since CA: Civil War, just asked you out on a date.To say you were freaking out was an understatement.The date was literally four hours away,but you jumped up and started looking for an outfit anyway.Once you finally picked up the perfect outfit,with the limited clothes that you brought for your trip,you threw a hoodie over yourself and headed to the lobby,remembering that you were supposed to me Tuwaine for breakfast.

~*~

“So yeah I got a text that was like “Hey,it’s Tom!” and first my dumbass was like “Who the fuck is Tom?” then I read the rest of the text and I it mentioned you and I was like “Ooooh that Tom!” so then I texted him back and was like-“

“I hate to cut you off,” Tuwaine said,finally deciding to interrupt your rant “But it’s too early in the morning for you to be talking at this speed.”

You knew your friend was mostly just joking,but you sheepishly sunk down in your chair and calmed down a bit anyway. “My bad,I’m just really excited.”

“It’s cool,love.So I’m guessing this lead to him asking you out?”

“Yes!I’m saving my appetite because he’s taking me out for lunch!But that’s enough about my potential love life,how’d you sleep?” You asked and slightly leaned over with genuine anticipation.This brought a smile to Tuwaine’s face.

“Glad to see that you remember you came all this way to see me.” He mockingly told you,but you could tell he was genuinely touched.He went on to tell you that it felt like he was sleeping on a huge slab of stone,but he went to sleep anyway because he was too tired.You two had a long chat and before you knew it,it was time for your date.

(A /N: One thing I’m manifesting for myself starting this December 21st is a better sleep schedule.It’s getting late,but I didn’t want to go back on my word so I just cut it short 😅 Part 2 will be up soon though!)

[whumpywhumper]

Realization

TW: Medical Whump, Depiction of Hospitalized Whumpee, Aftermath of Captivity, Grief/Mourning

Tagging: @misspelledwitch @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @voidwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi  @captivity-whump @liliability @muumimafia @fanastywhump @elisabethrosewrites @unsure-but-alive-752 @jeverest00 @texdoeshalo @fanmanga1357-blog

@0idril0​ @rosesareviolentlyread​ @walkingchemicalfire​ I’m not lying when I say I wouldn’t write without these three, thank you for all your support and enthusiasm. 

Follows directly after: Consequences    Masterpost

V***V 

“What?”

Clint felt an unhealthy sinking sensation in his gut at Kincaid’s stricken expression. A wild, cold fear burst to life as the two law enforcement officers raised placating hands toward him. His wolf stood to attention, instincts cataloguing each and every micro expression, the shifting of their scents to nervous and sorrowful.

They know something about Markus.

“Clint, I need you to stay calm, okay? We don’t know anything for sure yet.” Ben’s placating tone did very little to soothe him or his increasingly restless wolf.

He could feel the growl building in his chest, the subvocal rumble trapped against the increasing beat of his heart. Placing his hands flat on the table, Clint suppressed the urge to stand and loom over the two other men, not wanting to ruin the relationship he’d been building over the last day.

“What don’t you know for sure yet?” The question came out dangerous and cutting, the wolf unable to completely mask the fear fueled rage that was brewing.

Kincaid swallowed heavily, easing himself away from the table and the predator on the other side. In a move too natural to be anything other than habit, his hand went to his waist where his side arm was located. “Clint, I need you to take a breath before we discuss this, okay? We’ll give you all the information you want, but none of us want an uncontrolled were’ in the hospital, right?”

Belatedly, Clint realized his eyes had flashed to his wolf’s golden yellow, the unnatural color sending primal signals of danger to the two officers. Licking his lips, Clint also felt the sharp points of his incisors, the lengthening bone telling him he was much closer to shifting than he wanted to be.

Hissing air through his teeth, Clint closed his eyes and wrestled back control. “You’re right, you’re right,” he said, letting the air out in a controlled exhale. He forced himself to lean back into his chair, trying to trick his body into relaxing with the casual posture.

Ben let out a shaky breath of his own at the gesture. “Thank you, Clint.”  He exchanged a look with Kincaid, the witch taking his hand off of his weapon and nodding slightly for the other man to explain. “I told you earlier about the John Doe, right?”

Nodding stiffly in acknowledgement, Clint felt a black bauble of refusal form in the back of his mind. No, no, don’t say—

“Clint, he looks an awful lot like the guy in your photo.”

Denial rested heavily on his tongue, and Clint’s head twitched on a negative shake. His mouth moved without input from him, a tinny echo reverberating in his ears. “Which guy?”

Clarification. One of the first rules of investigation. Make sure you’re talking about the same thing.

Ben took a deep breath as he slid the phone over, tapping the screen to make the photo appear again. His finger pointed directly at Markus’s face.

Clint’s sharp exhale sounded like he’d been punched. His eyes tripped over to Kincaid, question clear.

Corroboration. Don’t take one person’s word as fact.

The witch nodded, mouth tight with sympathy. “He’s pretty beat up right now, Clint, but I’ve spent some time with him the last few days. I would bet money that it’s the same guy.”

Correlation and Instinct. Don’t ignore your fucking gut.

The smell of magic, Kincaid’s hoodie reminding him of Markus. His gut telling him that the John Doe was important. His wolf howling as he left the nest behind.

It all added up to one thing.

Clint couldn’t suppress his savage snarl as he stood, chair skidding back into the wall with force as that black bauble burst into sharp shards of rage. He barely held back his shift as he demanded,  “Where is he?!”

Kincaid and Ben met his challenge, standing their ground as they stood to match his stance, hands going to their weapons.

“Clint, you need to calm down.”

“We’re not going to keep you from him, Clint: take a breath!”

He didn’t stick around for any more words, long strides taking him into the hallway and quickly outpacing the cursing police officers. He inhaled, nostrils flaring as he scented the air. Bleach and the overwhelming odor of sickness assaulted his nose, any recognizable scents so tangled that it was dizzying to try and parse through. Growling in frustration, Clint pulled around the corner and into the open hospital ward.

He didn’t even notice several of the nurses and visitors freezing as they caught sight of him. Instinctively, he took note of one of the uniformed police officers Holland had put on guard placing a hand on his weapon, posture settling in to move quickly if he proved violent. Clint’s wolf howled at the challenge, daring someone to get in between him and Markus.

Gaze flicking over the details, Clint catalogued that most of the rooms were open for observation, curtains drawn back and glass doors slid open so that the nurses had open access to go in and out. Only one of them was closed off, the curtains pulled to afford privacy.

Holland words floated in. The John Doe was the only ICU patient on this floor.

Still barely a moment, Clint surged forward, stalking toward his intended target. Kincaid’s shout to the uniformed officer to stand down from down the hallway was the buzz of a gnat, Ben’s yelling for Clint to calm down and wait for a minute not even registering to the pissed off wolf. He had to get to his friend.

The only thing that pulled him up short from forcing his way into the closed off room was the tiny nurse that barreled in front of him, arms spread wide as she faced him down.

“Just where the fuck do you think you’re going?!”

“Get out of my way!” Clint snarled at her, pretty sure his face wasn’t entirely human. The only thing holding him back from going through her was the fact that she was tiny and, enraged or not, he didn’t want to hurt her.  The woman barely flinched.

“No! Do you not see the signs on the door? This is a sterile room, and I’m not going to just let you waltz in there like this.” Her eyes blazed, furious and protective as a bear in front of her cub. “What business do you have in this room? Explain yourself!”

Kincaid and Ben finally caught up, almost tripping over themselves as they skidded up the fray.  

“Woah woah woah! Everybody calm down!” Kincaid grabbed onto his shoulders, pushing him out of the nurse’s face, using his own bulk to force distance between the near feral were and the breakable nurse.  

Clint transferred his snarl to Kincaid, the witch not backing down even as the wolf shrugged off his restraining hands. He knew he was being unreasonable, but god, if Markus was in there then he couldn’t stand the thought of being kept from him.

He started to pace, anxious energy burning him up inside. He kept one hand balled into a fist, the other buried in his hair as he fixed his gaze on the people between him and his goal. “I have to see if it’s him, I have to. You can’t keep me away from him.”

Ben held up his hands, trying to regain control of the situation, his affable demeanor imbuing the air with calm. “Nobody is keeping you from him, Clint, let’s just all take a deep breath.”

Clint tried to take a deep breath, but it came in as a barbed gasp for air, his wolf absolutely frothing with the desire to break the door down and get to his friend. He could feel his incisors elongating and subtracting with the internal struggle of keeping even a modicum of control.

The nurse sent a cautious look between him and Ben, her stance never shifting from being firmly in front of the door. “I’m not letting you in this room until I know what’s going on and your relationship to my patient. He’s not going to be hurt or infected just because you’re pissed off.”

“He’s my friend,” Clint howled, the implication that he would hurt Markus making his heart splinter. “His name is Markus, he loves his friends, and he’s terrified of heights. He’s been missing for months, and he’s been alone, hurt, and scared, and I didn’t find him! Please, fuck, just let me see him.”

The words tumbled out of him in a mad rush, anguished and visceral, Clint practically sobbing out the last plea as he faced the nurse.  Her eyes had widened at his tirade, stance softening as his distress became evident. Both Ben and Kincaid came closer to him, preparing to catch or support him if he needed it.

“Okay, okay, Clint,” she said, nodding her head and approaching him with open hands. “You’re gonna get to see him, okay? Let’s just take a minute and calm down, alright?” She motioned at one of the orderlies who’d snuck up, prepared to restrain him if necessary, and he grabbed a chair so that they could force him to sit down.

Clint shuddered but didn’t fight, breaths coming in staccato bursts as he tried to get back his equilibrium. “Please just let me see him,” he repeated, eyes blinking rapidly to force away the yellow.

The nurse squatted in front of him, grabbing a hold of his forearms and catching his eye. “I’m going to let you see him, okay, Clint? You just need to calm down first. Take a deep breath and let it out.” She pulled in a breath, and he matched it, following her instructions as he calmed down. “Good, good job.”

It took him a few minutes longer than he would have liked to regain all of his calm, his hands coming up to cover his face as he finally let out all of the frenzy that had overcome him. “Fuck,” he cursed, “Fucking hell.”

“You can say that again, buddy,” Kincaid huffed, patting him on the shoulder.

“You ready to continue the conversation now, Clint?” Ben asked. Clint nodded, rubbing his hand over his beard before meeting Ben’s kind gaze. “Okay, like I was saying before, we don’t know for sure that it’s him, right? But for you to go in and check, you’re gonna have to get decked out in a mask and gown. You remember what David said, right? He’s not doing well so even if it’s him or isn’t him, you’re gonna have to control yourself and be calm.”

Clint swallowed heavily, taking another deep breath as he climbed to his feet. “Yeah, yeah I got it, Ben. I can do this.”

The nurse, Catrina from her name tag, stepped in front of him, hand resting firmly on his bicep. “Clint, I need you to look at me and listen, okay?” She didn’t continue until his gaze locked with hers. “I need you to be prepared for what you’re going to see in there. From what it sounds like, you’ve already talked to Dr. Decker, right?”

Clint nodded, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically as he shifted from foot to foot. “I didn’t know it was Markus, would’ve asked more questions if I’d known. Fuck.”

Catrina took his cursing in stride, pulling his attention back to her. “I’m gonna take that to mean that you don’t really know what you’re gonna find when you go in there alright?” She paused to let his brain catch up, looking for the understanding in his eyes. “Clint, he is not going to look like himself at the moment, okay? His face is pretty bruised, and he’s heavily sedated so he’s not going to be responsive at all.

“I need you to understand this next part crystal clear, okay? You can’t touch anything. He’s got a tube down his throat, and a machine is breathing for him. He’s got several other drains and tubes that are under the blankets, but they’re all doing important jobs. I don’t care if they look painful or uncomfortable, don’t mess with them. If you have a concern about the equipment, come to me first. Do you understand?”

Clint nodded, hands raising in surrender. “Hands to myself, I got it.”

“Okay, I’m here if you need anything or need to ask any questions.” She handed him gloves, mask and a gown with a tight but sympathetic smile. She was donning her own gear with him, clearly not going to let him be alone with her patient until he could prove himself. He took a settling breath and struggled into the equipment with unsteady hands.

Catrina opened the room up for him, and Clint’s senses were immediately assaulted on all sides. His nose was struck by the sour, muggy odor of iodine, stress, and pain. The beep, hiss, and whirr of multiple pumps drilling into his ears alongside the obnoxious hiss of a suction mechanism and oxygen through a hose that only his sensitive ears ever seemed bothered by.

He stumbled forward as Catrina pulled the curtain back slightly to allow him fully into the room, drawn forward by the inescapable need to see if this was his friend or not. Almost immediately, Clint’s wolf started howling in his head, knowing even before he did that he’d found his lost packmate.

It took him a moment for Clint himself to catch up, to realize what he was staring at as he came to a halt at the foot of the bed, claws digging into the meat of his hands.

Markus.

Tubes and wires snaked across the bed. Hesitating, swallowing back the animal whine in the back of his throat, Clint put a hand on the lump he assumed was a foot. The blanket dimpled under his hand from where warm air was being pumped under the blankets, and he felt the rhythmic hiss thunk of compression devices around Markus’s lower legs.

He took a steadying breath through his nose, eyes burning as he catalogued the machines and devices he saw. He finally came to the head of the bed and flinched.

The bed was half sat up, his friend swathed in blankets, a folded towel protecting his eyes from the light. But there was a familiar black tuft of hair, and pale skin under a mask of multicolored bruises. It was all there, barely visible under a plastic contraption holding a tube in place.

He could hear bubbling over the sound of the machines and braced himself. He knew that sound, it wasn’t a good sound. Swallowing hard, Clint shuffled around the bed, careful of his feet. Fuck, chest tube.

He’d listened when David had outlined the John Doe’s condition, the impersonal words laying out all of the harsh, gritty details necessary for law enforcement and other medical personnel to get a complete picture of what was going on with a victim. He’d pictured in his mind the reactions of friends and family once they’d found out what their loved one had been subjected to. Had even pitied the poor fucker who’d gone through so much only to be faced with the potential of never living free again.

He’d never imagined this.

Inching up the side of the bed, he gently pulled the towel away from the other man’s eyes, taking a closer look at the face hidden under all of the medical equipment.

A wounded noise broke free of his chest when he compared everything he knew about his friend with the face on the bed.

“Fuck.”

Clint heard his voice like it was someone else’s, a pitiful broken syllable that held every tear he’d wanted to shed since Markus had gone missing.  

“God. Fuck.” His eyes were burning, and he couldn’t look away from his friend.

He wanted to throw his head back and release the mournful howl that was building up in his throat, give a voice to the agony churning in his chest, the horror of the fact that this. . . this was the result of his failure. Instead, he bent his head and put his forehead against his friend’s, blinking away the tears as they filled his eyes.

“Markus,” he sobbed, “Oh my god, Markus, no . . . “

~

Holland was the one that came to collect him.

Clint didn’t know how long it’d been since he’d come in to see Markus, he hadn't been paying attention to Catrina moving around the room, his sensitive ears dismissing the shared whispers outside the door. All of his attention had been on Markus. He knew it hadn’t been long enough since he stopped crying for his eyes to be anything but bloodshot as he met Holland’s sympathetic gaze.

The older man looked ridiculous in the yellow gown and blue face mask, the worry lines in his forehead thrown into harsh relief in the fluorescent lighting. His hands were gentle though as he threw his arm around Clint’s shoulders, other hand taking a hold of his forearm to pull him carefully away from his friend.

“C’mon, Clint,” he murmured, normally gruff voice so soft with understanding that it almost set him off again.

Clint stumbled after Holland like a newborn colt, legs uncoordinated jelly as followed the other man’s guidance. He was barely aware of the door sliding closed behind him before he was ripping away the gloves, mask, and gown, needing the scent of his friend’s pain off.

Distantly, he registered that he was shaking, and pressed his palms together, bringing his joined hands to his face.

He couldn’t even think. His mind was blank. Heart numb.

He jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, whirling around with a yellow eyed snarl. Holland was there, his pressed lips together, Ben and Kincaid flanking him, all three of their concern clear. Clint opened his mouth, only to find that his words had deserted him.

He wasn’t the silent type. But this? It was beyond him. They had to see the truth in his red rimmed eyes, but they had a job to do now. They were no longer new colleagues working a case with a consultant. They were cops speaking with a victim’s family member, and they had to be certain.

“Clint, is that Markus?”

He nodded, breath leaving him in a harsh expiration, feeling suddenly dizzy. “Shit,” he gasped, grabbing a hold of his knees.

“Okay, c’mon, let’s get you sitting down somewhere. Kincaid, can you ask David to meet us in the conference room?” Holland gathered Clint up by the shoulders, trying to steer him down the hallway.

“No-wait—I can’t,” Clint’s words went in one ear and out the other, the older man bulldozing over his objections.

“He’s not going anywhere, Clint. He’s in the best hands he can be in now, right?”

Numbly, Clint nodded, running a hand through his hair. When they got to the conference room, he collapsed into the chair he had vacated earlier and looked at the mountain of evidence and paperwork that they’d collected, swallowing back bile when he realized the horrible things he’s been evaluating for the case had probably been done to his friend. It made it real in a way that cases usually weren’t for him.

Holland leaned on the desk beside him, reminiscent of their talk the other night, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Think you can answer some questions for me?”

Not trusting his voice, he nodded again.  “Yeah. . . “ he breathed.

“He’s your friend, and we’re going to give you any information that you want, but does he have any next of kin? Someone with the authority to make medical decisions?”

“He doesn’t talk to his family, closest he has to a sister is Illyn, but, uh,” he rubbed under his eye, “they never changed their medical proxies from Evan when they moved.”

Ben sat down across from him, faint lines standing out at the corners of his concerned eyes. “Is this the same guy from the phone earlier?”

Clint nodded, his stomach sinking. “I gotta call him again. Fuck. . . I gotta call Illyn.”

Holland squeezed his shoulder, exchanging a look with Ben, who nodded. “Kincaid should be here with David soon. Why don’t you get Evan on the phone first? David can answer your questions and you two can make a plan.”  

Clint reached for his pocket and froze when it was empty, looking around at the table.

“Oh, sorry,” Ben murmured, pulling Clint’s phone out and sliding it over. The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile, “I still had it from earlier.”

His hands shook as he took the phone back, and he swallowed heavily as the screen lit up. The picture from earlier stared up at him. Markus was smiling and happy. Completely different from the still, almost lifeless, figure he’d just left.

“We’ll give you a minute,” Holland said, giving him a firm pat as he motioned Ben to the door.

“Thanks guys.” He sucked in a deep breath and clicked on his contacts. Rubbing a hand over his face, he waited for the call to connect.

How the fuck do I break this to him? What do I even tell him?

“Hello?” The sound of barking accompanied his friend’s voice, and it was such a jolt of normalcy that it took his breath away.

“Ev’. . .”

“Clint? I haven’t heard anything from Deanna yet, it’s only been like an hour, right?”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a hell of an hour.” His chuckle was almost hysterical, and he could hear Evan pause. Could practically see the concerned look on his face.

Carefully, his friend responded. “Clint, if this guy already passed then there was nothing you could have done.”

“No, no,” he said, a little too firmly, “he hasn’t passed. Um . . . “ his voice trembled, and he took a small breath, trying to brace himself.

“Clint?” Evan’s voice was filled with apprehension, “What’s going on?”

“It’s Markus.”

“What? You mean you found what happened to him?”

Clint balked at answering, looking up at the ceiling with burning eyes.

“Clint,” Evan’s voice was hard as diamonds, “did you find the bastard that killed our friend?”

“He’s not dead, Ev’,” he answered, words slipping free like a clot, “He’s the John Doe.”

[sleepyhollands]

I’m very sorry for your loss, I’m sending you lots of love. I really love your writing! Can I request a blurb for Tom’s first horn’s first Christmas (the reader is his wife)? thank you

“wanna go wake up daddy? hm?” y/n spoke in a baby voice to your little girl as she hoisted her out of her crib, earning soft giggles and a toothless smile from the five-month-old. rocking her in her arms, y/n walked silently over to her and tom’s bed, where she was met with a sleeping tom.

gently grabbing the baby’s wrist, y/n guided her tiny hand so that she was lightly tapping her father’s nose with her pudgy little fingers. tom awoke with a yawn, opening his eyes to his favorite sight. his family.

“my favorite girls,” he said in a raspy voice, “g’morning, loves.”

once y/n and tom had made their morning tea and their daughter had downed her first bottle of the day, it was time to open some gifts. tom had the child in his lap, bouncing her on his leg as she babbled incoherently.

“my dear,” he cooed, smiling down at her, “it’s your first christmas! and we have some presents for you, darling.”

y/n sent him a loving smile as she opened the first one for her, a tiny stuffed bear for her to cuddle at night. y/n gasped, feigning surprise, “look! your first gift, sweetheart!” the sound of the baby’s laughter filled the room, making them grin even more.

tom handed y/n their little girl as he opened the other gift, a silver bracelet from dom and nikki. “wow, kitted out with some jewelry now, eh?” he laughed. “they really know how to spoil children, don’t they?”

“hey, your parents never had a girl, let them spoil her all they want,” y/n laughed as well.

after exchanging gifts with tom, the three of them spent the rest of the day watching christmas movies snuggled up on the bed, ignoring phone calls and enjoying each other’s company while sipping some hot chocolate (well, y/n and tom did, at least).

once their daughter had fallen asleep in her arms, y/n whispered to tom, “can you believe how lucky we got?”

“y/n, i’ve been asking myself how i got this lucky since the day you first agreed to go out with me.”

she chuckled, “well, i can’t seem to stop thinking about it. look at her, she’s so perfect. what could i possibly have done to deserve the two of you?”

tom pressed a kiss to y/n’s forehead, “i don’t know, but whatever it was, i’m glad you did it.”

y/n smiled fondly at that. “merry christmas, tommy.”

“happy christmas, love.”

taglist: @definitely-not-black-cat @harrysleftchelseaboot @quaksonhehe @darlingspidey @sunflowerhollands @caswinchester2000 @joshuaparkers @billeyun @jackiehollanderr @screamholland @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @tomshufflepuff @solarxmoonchild @peepeeparkerr @the-crazy-fanfictionist @spidey-holland-96 @ifilosemyselfagain @perspectiveparker @parkershoodie @tonguetiedholland @young-romanoff @pterprkr @auggie2000 @hypnotized-so-mesmerized @multifandomlover121 @hazmyheart @1missglum1

[curlystom]

forever — tom holland

The lock clicked open to your shared apartment. You wiggled the key out of the door knob as you pushed the door open. The space felt vacant, lights off and air cool. It seemed like Tom hadn’t be home for a while.

You flicked the lights on to see a trail of rose petals on the floor, leading past the dining room and kitchen to your balcony. Your chapped lips parted in awe as you set your purse and keys down, kicking your heels off at the same time. The cold floor soothed your sore feet as you walked towards the sliding doors. Curtains covered the beautiful view of the city skyline, neon lights coloring the sky like a painting. 

It was a shame you couldn’t admire it longer. 

Twiddling your thumbs, you pushed the heavy fabric aside and immediately spotted Tom with a red rose in hand. You slid the door open with your hand over your mouth as you looked around the balcony. Your heart was pounding harder and harder with every minute that passed. 

Lights were strung around the railing, making the barely lit area a bit brighter. A table was set for two. A vase filled with the rest of the roses was set in the middle of two dishes, a bottle of your favorite wine next to it. The food prepared was one of your favorites as well, a grilled cheese sandwich with some chips. It was one of the few things that Tom was able to cook, but you loved it. This was by far the sweetest thing he had ever done for you. 

Eyes glossy, you sauntered over towards Tom as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You threw your arms around his neck, nuzzling your cheek against his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder. The two of you were so close he could hear your heart pounding against your chest. A few tears fell down onto your cheeks, your smiling stopping them from streaming.

A few minutes passed and Tom was the first to pull away. The smile on his face was still present as he wiped your still tear. A chuckle escaped before your lips tugged a smile of their own. 

“What’s the occasion?” You wiped underneath your lower lash line to rid any other tears.

“There has to be an occasion for me to love and appreciate my fiancée?” He tilted his head to the side, smirk present on his face as he held your hands. 

“It’s just,” You bit your lip to contain the growing smile, shaking your head in disbelief as you looked around. “You’ve never done anything like this before.”

Everyone knew how busy Tom was. With filming two movies back to back and being called away to attend an event or charity, it didn’t allow him to spend much time with you or his family. It broke your heart, of course, but Tom loved what he was doing and you loved seeing him so happy. You just wish you could be more apart of it sometimes.

“What, you saying I’m not a romantic?” Tom joked, kissing your temple. “Come on, let’s go eat before the food gets cold.”

His hands left your waist to pull out the chair for you, heat rushing to your cheeks at the simple act of chivalry. You graciously sat down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before placing the folded napkin on your lap. Tom rolled up his sleeves a bit as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started playing your favorite playlist through the bluetooth speakers. The ache in your cheeks was definitely present due to the constant smiling.

Tom sat down in front of you, his face illuminated from the string lights in the best way possible. There was just enough light to showcase the faint freckles on his cheeks underneath the flushed skin. You always believed them to be like the constellations in the sky, mapping out the few ones you were familiar with. Eventually you trailed up to his eyes, or what you believed to be a cluster of stars that were too beautiful to be with the ones up above. The gold flecks in his brown eyes glimmered even in the dark setting and you couldn’t take your eyes off them. Sighing in admiration, you rested your chin on top of the palm of your hand, elbow leaning against the edge of the table. 

Moments like these were ones you wished you could live in forever; a world where there was just the two of you. No phone calls, no filming, no goodbye kisses. Just the two of you. Despite how unrealistic that world was, it was something Tom tried to give you and you loved it dearly.

“Darling?” 

Tom’s voice snapped you out of your daze. You shook your head as you blinked a few times. “Y-yeah?”

His lips were pressed into a loving smile. You couldn’t get anymore adorable, he thought. “You dozed off, love.” He grabbed your unoccupied hand, the warmth of his palm making you ease into his touch. Tom cocked his head to the side slightly, the infamous tight-lined smile still displayed on his face. “What were you thinking about?”

Suddenly embarrassed, you took a deep breath and took one more good look at the man in front of you. “Jus’ our future together.” Heat rushed to your cheeks as you bit your lip. You couldn’t help but cover your face with your hands as well. It wasn’t your fault that thinking about the two of you made you giddy. What you believed to be your future with him was promising and your heart skipped a beat at each thought. “I just can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He peppered little kisses all over your knuckles. The action made your heart beat even stronger, if that was even possible. It was like you had fallen in love all over again. With a man like Tom in your life, it was hard not to get caught up in the love he showered you in daily. From simply wrapping his arms around your waist to spontaneous getaways across the world, the butterflies in your stomach never seemed to leave. There were sparks flying everytime the two of you were together. Some may call it rare, but you just called it lucky.

There were no other guys like him.  

“You’re such a sap.” Tom smirked. You retracted your hand from his to throw the napkin on your lap at his face. The annoyed expression on your face didn’t last long though. You couldn’t stay mad at him either.

Nearly finished with dinner, you swirled the tasty red wine in your glass with your lip between your teeth. Tom was finishing up the last of his dinner but he made sure to keep his eyes on you. How was he so lucky to have someone like you in his life? The effortlessness in your beauty stunned him everytime he looked at you, and it was amazing how you continued to do so even after all this time. His cheeks were always flushed because of you and he wasn’t ashamed of showing it. 

You could feel his eyes on you, leading you to trail your eyes up to look at him. He had the most childish grin on his face and it was hard for you not to smile back. Tom reached out to grab your left hand and proceeded to rub his thumb along the band of your engagement ring. His heart swelled at the reminder that you were going to be in his life for a long time. 

Tom stood up with your hand still in his and led you away from the table. The confused expression on your face emphasized the crinkles near your eyes as he took both of your hands and started to sway side to side. A wide and bright grin arose along with that contagious laugh of yours, making Tom’s heart beat 10 times faster. He just couldn’t get enough of you.

The music playing faded into the background. Everything surrounding the two of you disappeared as you swayed on the balcony from what seemed like forever. His hands eventually made its way down to your waist as your arms naturally wrapped around his neck again. You stared at each other, both trying to contain the genuine and bright smiles you had. Tom didn’t bother to hide his though. 

“You going to be mine forever?” Tom asked. Pressing your lips into a tight line, you nodded before nuzzling your cheek into his chest once more. “Always.” You whispered. He left a chaste kiss on the top of your head before resting his cheek on the top of your head. 

Everything you wanted and needed was right there in front of you, and you couldn’t believe how in love you were with him. There was nothing that could ruin this moment in your life. Nothing.

-

Tissues and empty beer bottles were sprawled out across the coffee table and couch as Tom dropped his suit jacket on the floor, too exhausted to properly put it away. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual, eyelids puffy from the crying and heart aching every minute or so. 

He loosened the black tie around his neck, allowing it to hang before dragging his feet along the floor to the bedroom. The sight in the mirror he passed wasn’t a pretty one. The once neatly, slicked back curls were now unbrushed and frizzy. He hadn’t taken a proper shower in days.

His favorite picture of you stood on his nightstand, your grin bigger than ever as you cupped his jaw with your left hand, perfectly displaying the diamond on your finger. Tom had nuzzled his face into your neck and peppered little kisses along your shoulder. His lips were cold compared to your warm skin, making each kiss tickle more than usual. The both of you had never been so happy. 

Tom’s bottom lip quivered at the memory. It’s not fair, he thought. He sat on the edge of the bed before grabbing the picture and throwing it at the wall, no doubt breaking the picture frame and glass. Sporadic, silent sobs erupted from his throat, making his chest pound and heart ache. He clawed at his stomach, wanting to scream as loud as he could. Nothing came out. All that could be heard was the irregular hiccups involuntarily escaping Tom’s lips as he gasped for air. 

The pain was too much for him to bear, but in no way did it compare to what you felt. His whole body felt like it was on fire, yet at the same time he felt numb. His eyes were closed shut to prevent more teardrops from leaving but it was no use. They streamed one after the other, in no way stopped anytime soon. He was afraid to open his eyes, too scared to be reminded of you if he looked around the room. You were everywhere. All he could do was fall asleep and let the pain die down.

A few hours later, Tom had managed to calm down a bit. The tears had slowed down, but the ache in his heart was still evident. He was laying on your side of the bed, trying to remember the scent he looked forward to every day. His arms were wrapped around your pillow, similar to what he would do every morning when he woke up. That hole in his chest just seemed to get bigger and bigger. 

He sniffled as he took in a deep breath, reaching for the box of tissues on your nightstand but accidentally knocked them down. Tom steadily removed himself from his position to pick them up before noticing a piece of paper on the ground as well.

This surely wasn’t there before, he told himself. Totally forgetting what he was doing, Tom took the paper in between his fingers and slowly opened it. It was like his heart sank even more when he realized what it was. 

His chocolate orbs scanned the written words on the folded up paper. There were many crossed out phrases and different variations of what you were writing. It was surely a draft, but he knew this must have been the main one. 

Tom, you are my best friend, my partner in crime, my everything. You are caring, funny, brave, genuine, and loving. All things that I love about you, but surely not the only ones. I truly don’t know what I would be doing if it wasn’t for you.  You’ve shaped me to become who I am today, and I am so blessed to have you in my life. From being best friends in middle school to roommates to now, I never want to give any of those moments up. I will cherish all those memories forever because my favorite ones are with you. I was so lucky to call you my best friend, but now I’m even more lucky to call you my husband. I love you forever Tom, and I always will.

His eyes welled up with more tears as he pressed the paper against his chest. The heartache he felt was now bearable and his chest no longer felt so tight. Although Tom’s breathing was still irregular, a small smile managed to surface as one single tear streamed down his cheek. He nodded slowly, imagining you there with him again as he closed his eyes.

Forever, he thought. And always.

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

The Bromacker Project Part IV: Diadectes absitus, A Project-Saving Fossil

This post will be the first of a series focusing on notable fossil animals discovered in the Bromacker quarry. I selected Diadectes abisitus, a member of the ancient group Diadectomorpha, to present first because, had it not been discovered in the first year of the collaborative field work, the project might not have continued.

Dave Berman and his colleague Stuart Sumida (California State University, San Bernardino) joined Thomas Martens for five weeks of field work in the summer of 1993. They dug a quarry over six feet deep in their search for fossils, while working in a mix of hot and humid or near freezing temperatures, with plenty of rain. It wasn’t until the second-to-last day of the field season that the Diadectes specimen was discovered. By then, as Dave later told me, he was so discouraged by the lack of fossils that he assumed this would be his first and last field season in Germany. I should mention that Stuart had previously uncovered a few small vertebrae, but because the vertebrae resembled an animal described from the Bromacker in 1991, the team was not very excited about the discovery. They couldn’t have been more wrong in their field identification of the vertebrae, however, but more on that in a later post.

The 1993 quarry shortly before discovery of Diadectes absitus. Pictured are Stuart Sumida standing in the quarry and Thomas Martens crouched to his right. The Diadectes fossil was found in the corner opposite Stuart’s left shoulder, which is out of sight in this image. Photo by Dave Berman, 1993.

The team’s collective attitude changed when Stuart knocked off a chunk of bone-bearing rock from a bench in the quarry corner while shoveling away rock rubble. Careful examination of the fragment revealed part of the top of a roughly five-inch-long skull. We have since joked that Stuart gave it a lobotomy. While collecting the large block of rock containing the remainder of the skull, another piece of rock popped off the the edge of the block adjacent to the quarry wall. This piece had vertebrae in it. The team then realized that only the front portion of the animal was in the block freed from the quarry. The rest of the fossil skeleton remained in the quarry wall. Thomas later excavated the rest of the specimen and shipped it separately to Carnegie Museum of Natural History (CMNH).

You can watch Dave and Stuart excavate the fossil-bearing block by clicking on the video link at the end of this post.

Based on the shape of both the exposed teeth in the broken skull and the exposed vertebrae, Dave and Stuart were able to identify the fossil animal as the genus Diadectes. Thomas had already collected a juvenile skull and other bones of Diadectes before his collaboration with Dave, but the specimen discovered in 1993 was by far the most complete and best preserved.

Skeleton of Diadectes absitus. Some of the limb bones are preserved on the underside of the block. Photo provided by Thomas Martens.

Once my preparation of the specimen was completed, which took a little over a year, Dave, Stuart, and Thomas begin their detailed study and description of the fossil. They determined that it represented a new species, which they named Diadectes absitus. “Absitus” is Latin for distant or far, in reference to the species being the first occurrence of Diadectes outside of North America. The generic name Diadectes was coined in 1878 by the famous paleontologist Edward Drinker Cope, and is a combination of the Greek “dia,” meaning crosswise, and “dēktēs,” meaning biter, in reference to its broad teeth. Other species of Diadectes occur in similar-aged rocks in the American southwest, and a few specimens are known from the Tri-State area of Pennsylvania, Ohio, and West Virginia.

Diadectes is a member of the group Diadectomorpha, which has oscillated between being considered a member of Amphibia or Amniota. Amphibians lay their eggs in water, which then hatch into tadpoles that later undergo metamorphosis. Today this group includes frogs, salamanders, and caecilians (limbless, worm-like burrowing amphibians). In contrast, amniotes either lay their eggs on land, like reptiles and birds do today, or the embryo develops sufficiently in the mother for live birth, as in most mammals. Except in rare cases, the type of developmental pathways of fossil animals cannot be determined because they are rarely preserved with their eggs or fetuses. Paleontologists instead study a variety of preserved features to determine group membership. As an example, amphibians typically have four fingers, whereas amniotes generally possess five.

Diadectes and its close relatives were herbivorous, that is, they ate plants. Their spatulate, incisor-like front teeth project forwards and were adapted for cropping vegetation. Longitudinal, parallel striations on their broad cheek teeth suggest that Diadectes could move its lower jaw fore and aft to grind plant matter against its upper jaw teeth, a motion called propalinal.

Skull of Diadectes absitus in right lateral (= right side) aspect. Notice the forward-angled front teeth and the bulbous cheek teeth. A black pen was used to mark the boundaries of individual bones in the skull, which aided study of the animal. Modified from photo provided by Thomas Martens.

The presence of an enlarged torso and teeth adapted for grinding tough vegetation are evidence that Diadectes absitus likely consumed a diet of high-fiber plants. Animals that eat high fiber plants, such as cows, have enlarged torsos framed by a rounded rib cage to hold large guts for processing plant cellulose through fermentation by microorganisms.

Diadectes absitus lived at a time when herbivores were just beginning to evolve. One of the oldest known herbivores is the diadectomorph Desmatodon hollandi, which lived about 305 million years ago, whereas Diadectes absitus lived roughly 290 million years ago. We discovered a surprisingly high number of herbivores at the Bromacker.

Teeth of one of the oldest known herbivores, the diadectomorph Desmatodon hollandi. This specimen was discovered in Pitcairn, PA by Percy E. Raymund (Assistant Curator, Section of Invertebrate Paleontology) in 1907 and named in honor of Dr. William Holland, the second Director of CMNH. The teeth of Desmatodon are very similar to those of Diadectes absitus. Photo by the author, 2018.

A cast of the skeleton of Diadectes absitus is exhibited in the Fossil Frontiers display case in the Dinosaurs in Their Time exhibition. Be sure to look for these once the museum re-opens. And stay tuned for my next post, which features another diadectomorph, Orobates pabsti.

Photograph of a model of Diadectes absitus made by the Museum der Natur, Gotha exhibit preparator Peter Mildner. Photo provided by Thomas Martens.

Dave and Stuart excavate the fossil-bearing block (video)

Amy Henrici is Collection Manager in the Section of Vertebrate Paleontology at Carnegie Museum of Natural History. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

[adz]

in case you were needing it, here is my attempt at creating a comprehensive, mostly chronological list of every song sufjan stevens wrote/released as a solo act

A Sun Came We Are What You Say A Winner Needs a Wand Rake Siamese Twins Demetrius Dumb I Sound Wordsworth’s Ridge Belly Button Rice Pudding A Loverless Bed (Without Remission) Godzuki Super Sexy Woman The Oracle Said Wander Happy Birthday Jason Kill Ya Leil A Sun Came Satan’s Saxophones

Eye of the Beholder All Delighted People

8.21: A Blue Bunny Compilation Woman at the Well Far Physician’s Son

Seen Unseen Damascus

Enjoy Your Rabbit Year of the Asthmatic Cat Year of the Monkey Year of the Rat Year of the Ox Year of the Boar Year of the Tiger Year of the Snake Year of the Sheep Year of the Rooster Year of the Dragon Year of the Rabbit Year of the Dog Year of the Horse Year of Our Lord

To Spirit Back the Mews God’ll Ne’er Let You Down Bushwick Junkie I Can’t Even Life My Head

Michigan Flint All Good Naysayers For the Widows in Paradise Say Yes! To M!ch!gan! The Upper Peninsula Tahquamenon Falls Holland Detroit Romulus Alanson, Crooked River Sleeping Bear, Sault Saint Marie They Also Mourn Oh God, Where Are You Now? Redford Vito’s Ordination Song --- Marching Band Pickerel Lake Niagara Falls Presidents and Magistrates Wolverine

Hope Isn’t a Word Borderline

Metaphysics for Beginners How Can the Stone Remain?

Seven Swans All the Trees The Dress Looks Nice on You In the Devil’s Territory To Be Alone with You Abraham Sister Size Too Small We Won’t Need Legs to Stand A Good Man Is Hard to Find He Woke Me Up Again Seven Swans The Transfiguration --- I Went Dancing with My Sister Waste of What Your Kids Won’t Have Illinois Concerning the UFO Sighting The Black Hawk War Come On! Feel the Illinoise! John Wayne Gacy, Jr. Jacksonville A Short Reprise Decatur One Last “Whoo-Hoo!” Go! Chicago! Go! Yeah! Casimir Pulaski Day To the Workers of the Rock River Valley Region The Man of Metropolis Prairie Fire That Wanders About A Conjunction of Drones The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades They Are Night Zombies!! Let’s Hear That String Part Again In This Temple as in the Hearts of Man The Seer’s Tower The Tallest Man, the Broadest Shoulders Riffs and Variations Out of Egypt

NPR single The Lord God Bird

The Avalanche The Avalanche Dear Mr. Supercomputer Adlai Stevenson The Vivian Girls The Henney Buggy Band Saul Bellow Carlyle Lake Springfield The Mistress Witch from McClure Kaskaskia River Inaugural Pop Music No Man’s Land The Palm Sunday Tornado The Pick-Up The Perpetual Self For Clyde Tombaugh Pittsfield The Undivided Self

Mews Too Opie’s Funeral Song

Songs for Christmas ---I We’re Goin’ to the Country! It’s Christmas! Let’s Be Glad! ---II Put The Lights On The Tree Only at Christmas Time ---III Come On! Let’s Boogey to the Elf Dance! That Was the Worst Christmas Ever Ding! Dong! All the King’s Horns ---IV Hey Guys! It’s Christmas Time! Did I Make You Cry on Christmas? (Well, You Deserved It!) The Incarnation ---V Get Behind Me, Santa! Christmas in July Jupiter Winter Sister Winter Star of Wonder The Winter Solstice

The Believer In the Words of the Governor

The BQE Prelude on the Esplanade Introductory Fanfare for the Hooper Heroes Movement I: In the Countenance of Kings Movement II: Sleeping Invader Interlude I: Dream Sequence in Subi Circumnavigation Movement III: Linear Tableau with Intersecting Surprise Movement IV: Traffic Shock Movement V: Self-Organizing Emergent Patterns Interlude II: Subi Power Waltz Interlude III: Invisible Accidents Movement VI: Isorhythmic Night Dance with Interchanges Movement VII (Finale): The Emperor of Centrifuge Postlude: Critical Mass --- The Sleeping Red Wolves

Single: Sofia’s Song

All Delighted People All Delighted People Enchanting Ghost Heirloom From the Mouth of Gabriel The Owl and the Tanager Arnika Djohariah Side D

The Age of Adz Futile Devices Too Much Age of Adz I Walked Now That I’m Older Get Real, Get Right Bad Communication Vesuvius All for Myself I Want to Be Well Impossible Soul

Silver & Gold ---VI Lumberjack Christmas The Midnight Clear St. Benjamin the Bearded One Barcarola ---VII Christmas Woman Happy Family Christmas Mysteries of the Christmas Mist Behold! The Birth of Man, the Face of Glory Ding-a-ling-a-ring-a-ling Mr. Frosty Man Make Haste to See the Baby Eternal Happiness or Woe I Am Santa’s Helper Even the Earth Will Perish ---VIII Christmas in the Room Particle Physics The Child with the Star on His Head ---IX X-mas Spirit Catcher ---X Happy Karma Christmas Justice Delivers Its Death Christmas Unicorn

Carrie & Lowell Death with Dignity Should Have Known Better All of Me Wants All of You Drawn to the Blood Eugene Fourth of July The Only Thing Carrie & Lowell John My Beloved No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross Blue Bucket of Gold

One Night Stand #1 Harsh Noise

Exploding Whale single

The Greatest Gift Wallowa Lake Monster The Greatest Gift The Hidden River of My Life City of Roses

CMBYN Singles Mystery of Love Visions of Gideon

Tonya Harding single

Lonely Man of Winter single

The Ascension Make Me An Offer I Cannot Refuse Run Away with Me Video Game Lamentations Tell Me You Love Me Die Happy Ativan Ursa Major Landslide Gilgamesh Death Star Goodbye to All That Sugar The Ascension America

Live Only Majesty Snowbird The 50 States Song Many Guides Maple River

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Serial Killer Gap Year: Road Trip

(From a Shades of Magic AU I did for @writersmonth 2019! I just kind of feel like posting this here, too. Characters are from A Darker Shade of Magic / the Shades of Magic trilogy by V.E. Schwab. The full AU challenge is available here on AO3)

CW: Noncon touching, noncon kissing, intimate/creepy whumper, murder threats, referenced/implied noncon, whumper POV

“Can’t I just stay out here and put gas in the car?” Holland asked heavily, pulling up the tiny convenience store. “And why couldn’t we get something less conspicuous than this?” He gestured broadly forward. They were parked at the gas station’s third pump in a bright red two-door sports car the twins had stolen and put fake dealer plates on at least three states ago.  

“You’ll go in with Athos, like usual,” Astrid said brightly. She had her feet up on the dash in the passenger seat, bright red toenails glinting in the Arizona sunshine, wearing a pair of black shorts that were more underwear than clothing and a thin black tank top that had red lace peeking out of it along the shoulders and back, daring men to look. Athos was fairly sure at least a few had. Those men were dead. “I wanted a red car, I got a red car. Athos picked a good one, too.”

“We take what we want,” Athos said from the backseat. “Sports cars, liquor… you.” He leaned forward, putting a hand on Holland’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth along that little bit of bone that stuck out just before the curve of his shoulder began. Holland sat very still, the air conditioning still blowing icy chill at them.

Holland always wore sunglasses when he drove these days, and the only part of him that gave away his thoughts was the corner of his mouth, where Athos could see it turn down, just slightly, as his jaw tightened up.

“If I go in, you’ll just make me steal,” Holland said carefully, not moving, keeping his hands on the steering wheel, gripped around it so hard his knuckles were white on one side. His right hand was closed more loosely, fingers splayed awkwardly. “We have the money. Let’s just pay for everything this time.”

“We always pay for the gas,” Astrid pointed out helpfully.

“No you don’t.”

“Oh. Well, we mostly pay for the gas, anyway.”

“No,” Holland said flatly. “You don’t.”

“We’ll pay this time,” Athos said soothingly. “Come on, it’s our first road trip together! It’s been fun trying to visit every state with you!”

“Has it?”

He couldn’t quite use his right hand as well as he used to, not since he’d tried to signal someone for help. Now he used his left hand instead.

“Well, I’ve been having a great time,” Astrid said brightly. “Go in with Athos, Hol. You know what happens if you don’t listen.”

There was a moment of silence and then he dropped his hands from the steering wheel. “Fine. Get your feet off me. I’ll go in with him. At least say we all wear shoes this time.”

Astrid laughed, and Athos smiled at the sound. He loved to hear his sister laugh, and Holland made her laugh so much. A pity they’d never come across anyone like him before. An even bigger pity that this couldn’t last forever, that sooner or later he’d be too much trouble to keep around.

Astrid slid her feet back into her flip-flops and the three of them got out of the car, Holland sliding the front seat forward so Athos could climb out.

Athos was wearing a black tank top and old jeans that had faded into something nearly colorless by now, his own white-blond hair blowing loose in the hot wind. Holland’s white T-shirt looked terribly out of place with the two of them dressed in black, but Athos liked him like that, and so did Astrid. Their opposite image man.

“Hey, Hol,” Athos said softly, reaching out to brush his hand against Holland's stomach. “You’re looking good today.”

“Don’t,” Holland said tightly, but he fell into step with Athos as the two of them walked inside, Astrid staying out for the moment to put gas in the car. She watched them go in a pair of cherry-red sunglasses shaped like hearts, perfectly paired to match the red lace of her bra and the paint on her toenails, her white-blonde hair in a braid that ran halfway down her back, tendrils pulled free to hang just so around her beautiful face.

There was an immense cruelty in that face, and Athos loved her without reservation. She was his twin sister, and they had always been exactly the same, two halves of the same whole. They kept Holland and they loved him, too, in their own way.

Holland might not have called it love.

“You know the drill,” Athos said as he held the door, letting Holland walk in ahead of him. The other man said nothing in reply, only kept his eyes on the ground as the blast of air conditioning hit them with a brick of ice compared to outside’s dry, oppressive heat. “You say a word to anyone, we’ll make everyone in this place fuckin’ regret it. If anyone dies today, it’s on you.”

Holland was silent, but he followed Athos obediently enough. He picked up a bag of chips, looked it over, slowly put it back. "What," Athos said brightly. "You don't like Takis?"

Holland didn't answer, picking up a bag of cheddar and sour cream chips to hold onto, wandering towards the soda case. Athos watched him, enjoying the sight of the thin white T-shirt slightly damp with sweat in the center of his back, the muscles in his arms and his wrists. He held his right hand closer to himself, Athos noted, protectively. He never took off his sunglasses.

While Astrid waited outside for the car’s tank to fill, Athos and Holland picked out chips, sodas, some bottles of water. There were people in here; a mother with two small children arguing over gummy bears, the cashier looking emptily off at nothing, what looked like a truck driver staring fixedly into the beer case as though it would simply embrace him if he stood there long enough.

Holland didn’t speak to a single one of them. He knew better by now. He only held the things that Athos handed him - chips, beef jerky, a six-pack of beer clutched in a right hand that wouldn’t quite close all the way - and followed him, did as he was told.

He’ll do, Astrid had said, and they’d both thought he might last a week, maybe two. But it had been nearly three months now, and Holland was still here. They couldn’t bear to kill him and sure as fuck couldn’t let him go.

Athos let his fingers touch the damp spot on Holland’s back, watched him stiffen. “Don’t,” he said again, in the same tone as he’d said it outside; flat and not quite hostile. “Not here.”

Astrid was signaling to him from outside that she was done, and Athos smiled at her, holding up one finger. She must have been able to see it, because he saw her climb back into the passenger side of the car, keys in hand.

“We’re going to check out now,” He said quietly. The two children were still arguing, the sound like ice picks in his mind. “You’re going to put some chocolate bars in your pockets and walk right back out there.”

“Don’t make me steal,” Holland said, quietly, not quite pleading. “It’s stupid. We have the money.”

Athos took everything from Holland's arms, smiling. Cold beer in the backseat of the car was going to be amazing. “I don’t care if we have the money. I want you to steal. Are you going to do what I tell you?”

Those mirrored sunglasses (a $600 designer gift from Astrid, even though Holland had never once shown any sign of appreciating her generosity) reflected his smile right back at him, even as Holland's mouth narrowed, just a little, in bitter rage. “Yes.”

“Good.” The arguing of the children suddenly got more intense, louder, and Athos narrowed his eyes in that direction. “I fucking hate kids. I should go over there-”

“No,” Holland said softly, glancing to each side, then stepping slightly closer. Athos watched with pure and unadulterated joy as Holland tilted his head so his hair fell over one eye the way he knew they liked. "Ignore them. We're about to leave, anyway. Don’t worry about anyone else. I’ll pay. You go back out to the car.”

“I can’t let you alone,” Athos replied, patting the side of his face gently. “You’ll tell someone.”

“No, I won’t,” Holland said softly. Someone else came in, and Holland pulled back, looking back at a rack of state maps, rubbing uneasily at the back of his neck. “I won’t tell anyone. I won’t.”

“I’ll stay with you until we’re done paying. Now put something down your pants to steal.”

Holland chose some candy, and Athos raised an eyebrow when it wasn’t the chocolate, but chose to let this one slide. Let Holland have his little rebellions. He only got to have them in the daylight, after all.

Athos paid, not even trying to make conversation with the cashier, who looked brain-dead anyway. He could have killed everyone in this gas station and made Holland watch. They’d done it before, made Holland watch when Athos felt the itch. Astrid thought that was its own great fun. Then they drove away, and never stayed long enough to see the crime report.

There were no bulletins on the national news. They’d seen no Wanted posters. They kept moving, and they were careful who they killed, picking people like Holland with no family to miss them and very few or no friends at all, and no one knew to watch for them.

If they took out people here, though, they’d be on camera. These people probably had someone who would miss them. Athos wouldn’t mind, he’d always wondered what it would be like to lead cops on a merry chase, but Astrid would be angry. She wanted this wonderful summer to last as long as possible. They were going to visit every state in the country, after all, and you couldn’t rush that sort of thing. You had to have fun with it.

Astrid and Athos had left at least one body in every state so far. Holland’s roommate had been state number 7, and he’d been with them ever since. There'd been a kid back in… oh, Michigan or something, and they'd almost tossed Holland aside for him. Just a redhead walking down the road by himself, a teenager practically asking to be abducted. Holland had talked them out of that one, although ‘talked’ wasn’t exactly the right word for how he’d convinced them, and Astrid had never wanted anyone but him since.

They must be on state 30 by now, right? Only 20 to go, and part of Canada.

Athos was really interested in how many bodies they could leave behind them in Western Canada. They’d have to steal a new car, though, if they didn’t want to be conspicuous and end things too early.

He wanted this summer to last, too.

They walked back out, Holland just ahead of him as always. Athos stayed just close enough to be oppressive, and he could tell by the way Holland’s shoulders hunched that he was very much aware that it was on purpose.

“Can I take a break from driving?” Holland asked, quietly. “I’m tired. I need to nap.”

“Yeah,” Athos said after a moment’s thought, and watched Holland’s shoulders relax, just a little bit. “Astrid can drive. You can sit in the back with me.”

The shoulders tensed again.

“Y-you could sit up front-” Holland started, and his voice sounded younger, worried, and Athos felt a thrill up his spine.

“I don’t want to. I want to sit with you.”

He could see it, even though Holland’s sunglasses always hid his eyes. He could see the remaining fight in him, how he wanted to throw a punch and try to run, even though this gas station was the only thing for twenty miles in any direction in the scorching, blistering Arizona heat.

He could see that Holland wanted to run back in, beg them to call the cops.

He could see Holland think better of it, remembering the times he’d tried, the people who had suffered. He could see him force himself to relax again, and all of his emotions were sweet as sugar in Athos’s mind. What kept Holland alive, he thought, was that there was still fight in him. It was stuck down deep, but it was in there, and Athos would never let him die until all of it was gone.

Astrid was happy enough to drive, sliding her sandals back off to press the pedals barefoot. She smiled at Athos in the rearview mirror as they threw up gravel pulling out of the parking lot and he smiled back. This summer had been so amazing, so perfect, so beautiful. It had been everything they’d dreamed it would be, and they were getting away with it.

Holland leaned his head against the window, sitting as far away from Athos as possible, though he couldn’t go far in the car’s tiny bucket seats.

“Take off your glasses,” Athos said softly. Holland hesitated, then did as he was told. His eyes were shadowed, haunted, and very, very green. He had a pretty wicked black eye ringing one, still healing, a mottled mix of blues, purples, reds, and yellows. Athos thought he looked like a painting. He was furious, and furiously beautiful. “Good. Your eyes are so pretty, I like to look at them.”

Holland said nothing, only stared out the window as the landscape blurred by.

Astrid fiddled with her iPod as she drove, scrolling through songs until she found one she wanted, only half-watching the road. Somehow, nothing was ever in her way. Somehow she never swerved or had an issue. Somehow, it always worked for her.

Music began to blare through the speakers, a crooning female voice layered over crunching, industrial metal guitar, singing in Swedish. She settled back into her seat. “Do it,” She said to Athos, the cherry-red hearts over her eyes making her look, Athos thought, like a movie star.

“Can I?” Athos asked.

Holland knew what they were talking about, and his face went white. “No,” he said quietly, but neither of them listened. They never listened to Holland, unless it was to throw his pain right back in his face

“This road is nice and flat.” Astrid’s voice was bright and cheerful. She was the center of Athos's world, and he would have done anything for her. He knew, without ever having to ask, that she would have done anything for him.

Holland had been her choice, but he'd really been a gift for Athos, and both of them had known it from the first time they saw him.

“Go ahead," Astrid said brightly. "I’ve got my music up and I’ll keep my eyes on the road, I promise. I had most of the fun last night, you deserve a turn.”

Astrid turned the music up until it was so loud the lower notes vibrated in the frame of the car, settled back, and watched the highway stretch out before them.

Athos grinned and leaned over, unbuckling Holland’s seatbelt. “C’mere,” He said, and his voice was soft and warm .

Holland hesitated. It was the hesitation that Athos loved; watching the pain in his face, and the anger, the defiance that fought to rise to the surface, turn gradually into resignation. Most of them they killed at that point, but something about Holland had kept he and Astrid interested longer than ever before.

Holland hadn’t given up hope; not yet, not all the way, and Athos could almost taste it. His hope was keeping him alive; just not maybe the way he might have thought.

Finally, he looked at Athos and said quietly, “What do you want me to do?”

Athos grinned, sitting back. “You know what I want you to do.”

He watched Holland’s left hand close slowly into a fist, then just as slowly open back up again. "Can I put my sunglasses back on?"

He and Astrid met gazes in the rearview mirror, and he knew the blue of hers behind those sweetheart sunglasses would perfectly match the color of his own. They were two halves of a whole, had always been. She'd always given him exactly what he needed to be happy, and he had always been there for her just the same way.

"No," He said, and his smile changed. "I want you to look me in the eyes this time."

This had been the best fucking summer of his entire life.

[rambling-at-midnight]

A Handmaiden’s Lies: Part 1

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Tom is staring moodily into the fire, tossing twigs and stones into it occasionally. Harry and Haz watch him by sneaking glances in his direction and thinking they’re being sneaky. The heat is brutal from where he’s crouching, but he can’t leave the firepit. If he does, he’ll see her. The girl he’s been infatuated with for months. The girl he knew he didn’t ever have a chance with. The girl he just saw kissing George in his tent.

Zendaya.

Maybe they’re doing a little bit more than kissing now, he thinks pissily, flicking his eyes to his friend’s tent before turning around with a firm resolution not to think about Z again—at least for tonight. It’s none of his business, anyway, and he’s never let a hint of what he feels for Z show. It’s not her fault and it’s not George’s either.

He’d never really had a chance. Not really. Not after George and Z had met and their words had burned. He’d known. It was self-preservation that had kept his lips sealed.

It still hurts.

And he knows he’ll see her in the morning, all golden and glowing, and it’ll hurt a bit but he’s her friend so he won’t say anything.

A commotion distracts Tom from his brooding. Everyone looks up at the sound of someone yelling, another sobbing, and other people grunting.

Zendaya and George stumble out of their tent to investigate the commotion. Tom glances at them, sees the way their shirts are rumpled, and can’t breathe until a group of seven people break through the tree line and approach the fire’s circle of light. Five of the men are Tom’s. They’re manhandling two servant girls.

Servant girls. From the castle? What the hell are servant girls from the castle doing in my camp?

“Paddy, what happened?” Tom asks, his voice equal parts amused and worried. His brother’s shirt has a large red stain down the front of it along with the lower part of his face.

“We found these two spying on us,” a boy older than Tom answers. His name is something like Anthony.

“The one with y/h/c hair headbutted him,” another boy, William, explains with glee.

“Got me in the balls too,” a brunet called Tomas adds, prompting a chorus of cries from the scandalized camp girls and both laughter and slight scolding from the boys.

All the while during this conversation, the girl with the palest white-blonde hair Tom has ever seen hasn’t stopped sobbing while the other girl is ramrod-straight. Tom almost likens her to a statue.

“Z, you and your girls get the…” Tom waves a hand limply at the crying servant girl. “All sorted out.” No way she’s a spy; no spy acts like that when they’re caught. She could be acting, but she would have to be a very good actress to do that and women aren’t allowed to act nowadays anyway.

No, the girl Tom is more worried about is the stoic girl who apparently knows how to fight. He beckons for the men to bring the girl closer into the firelight so he can examine her.

The first sight of you hits Tom in the chest like a donkey kick. His men should definitely have warned him about your appearance. You have to be a faerie of some kind.

Luckily, Tom gets his wits about him before he looks like an idiot by gawking at you. When he speaks, he focuses on your ear lest he lost his train of thought by focusing his eyes on your face.

Damn, he got over Zendaya fast. Too bad his men kidnapped you and you’re probably scared out of your mind right now. That’s probably not the best way in the world to start off a courtship.

“Why were you spying on my men?” he demands. Tom can tell you’re staring directly at him.

“To see what they were doing,” you reply. There is no inflection in your voice, nor any emotion in your face. You really are a statue-girl. Tom wishes he could be as stoic as you, but his arm burns and he flinches.

“Well, what did you want from them?”

“An adventure, so thank you for delivering.”

Tom doesn’t know what to say to that. He opens his mouth and closes it, pursing his lips with slight irritation. The blonde’s cries have stopped, leaving only the fire to fill the silence with crackling. Finally he manages, “Why were you interested in my men?”

“Holland and his men have been a thorn in my queen’s side ever since you arrived in Avenge,” Statue replies. “I hoped I could persuade you to leave.”

“Your queen is a joke,” one of Tom’s men calls, eliciting jeers from the crowd of men watching.

“And how do you propose to persuade us to leave before we want to?” Tom asks, amusement curling his lips at the thought of your one-woman army persuading him to leave. Your bravery is admirable but fool hardy, and you will undoubtedly be killed by that trait.

“As the queen’s personal assistant, you can understand why she wouldn’t let me go alone—I am her closest friend and confidant,” you brag. “So I brought with me her Chief of the Mystic Arts, Sir Benedict, and Chief Dame, Lady Scarlett.”

Tom swallows. Everyone has heard of the Chiefs of the kingdom of Marvel, which was why his men had been hesitant about coming to Avenge, Marvel’s capital. It was said they could do things normal people couldn’t. Sir Benedict’s powers were especially mysterious, as disaster could seem unavoidable until he would appear, his necklace would glow, and all threats would disappear, despite no one noticing anything between those moments.

“You think two Chiefs could take down Holland’s entire group?” Haz sneers.

Your lip curls. “A group of reject bastards without a day of training? It wouldn’t even take one,” you spit.

Haz surges forward—his heritage and abandonment have always been a sore spot—but one of the boys holding you tangles his fingers in your hair and yanks your head back. Your hand flies into the air, a closed fist, and Tom recognizes a ‘hold fire’ command.

“I think you’ll find I’m quite unkillable,” you mutter to the boy with his hand in your hair. Despite your low tone, your voice carries. “You, on the other hand, are toeing the line quite dangerously.”

“Let her go!” Tom barks.

“Come on, mate, you don’t really believe she brought two Chiefs with her,” Haz snaps, eyeing you with loathing. You smirk at him.

“Do you really want to risk it?” Tom replies. “She did say she’s the Queen’s personal assistant.”

“An assistant,” Haz repeats. “She could just get another one.”

“I’ll pretend you all didn’t hear me,” you say loudly. “I am unkillable, and you are rapidly approaching the point of no return.”

“Let her go,” Tom mutters.

“What?” Haz exclaims, like he really thinks he misheard him. Like he is allowed to speak to his superior like that.

“Let her go,” Tom repeats, louder. The look you give him does something weird to his stomach but he can’t afford to call your bluff just in case you are telling the truth. Only a Marvellian privileged assistant with two Chiefs at her back would waltz into enemy territory boasting loudly about her connection to the Queen. It paints too large a target on your back.

It’s either you’re telling the truth or a complete idiot. And as Tom meets your steady gaze, shadowed by the dancing flames of their campfire, he doesn’t see an idiot. He sees someone confident, used to getting their way, overzealous and brash, abrasive and aggressive, but he doesn’t see an idiot.

William and Paddy let go of your arms, albeit reluctantly. With a simple flick of your head, you reduce them to less than lumbering bears. Tom marvels at the way his boys aren’t crushed under the weight of your disapproval.

He’s heard this is what it feels like at first, but people disagree about whether or not the feeling gets weaker or stronger over time.

He is so screwed.

“Would you like to go somewhere private?” you ask with an unreasonable expression.

This isn’t what Tom had pictured. He’d pictured saving a girl from some rogues with less morals than he. He’d pictured meeting a girl in a tavern. He’d pictured buying something from a pretty vendor’s stall.

(In most of those scenarios, he’d pictured Z as the girl he flirted with)

But he never pictured her captured by his men and brought to his camp. He never pictured her as a servant in the Marvellian palace.

And yet, for some reason, he’s not disappointed. It does explain the mysterious half-sentence branded onto his right forearm. For years he’d puzzled over that phrase. For years he’s been wondering under what circumstances someone would say that to him.

For years Tom has been waiting for the one person who will love him unconditionally.

He nods and leads the way to his own private tent. Your soft footsteps follow him and he hears you close the tent before he turns around. You’re pulling your tunic away from your collarbone.

The once-black words now shine a glimmering gold in the lantern light from where they sit on the protruding bone. The handwriting is the same, even if the color isn’t; all soulmate marks are written in the same font until one meets their soulmate. That font is the type used in newspapers. It would have changed, except Tom doesn’t know how to write. His education hadn’t lasted that long. If he learns to write, Tom wonders, will the writing change too?

In return, Tom rolls up his sleeve, exposing his forearm and shivering as goosebumps appear. Belatedly, he sees your thin tunic and pants but you don’t seem to be bothered by the chilly night air.

He’d felt the burn but barely bothered to believe it. The once black, uniform letters have changed to a deep rusty red, like drying blood. The font has changed to a neat, small cursive that somehow doesn’t seem like it would be your handwriting. Tom had pictured large, looping letters to match your loud, strong personality, but perhaps that’s what happens when you’re educated in the palace.

He loves it anyway. It’s just another sign that no, Tom’s not unlovable, and the universe cared about him enough to give him someone to love and be loved by.

“It doesn’t matter,” you then say, smoothing the tunic down so the words are hidden again. “My loyalty is to the queen and her kingdom. In this time of political uneasiness one cannot afford emotional connections.”

Tom just beams at you. He can hardly believe the most beautiful girl in the world is his soulmate. And it doesn’t matter what you’re saying right now. Tom would wait a thousand years to meet his soulmate. Waiting until she’s ready for him won’t be (too) hard. He’d certainly comforted Zendaya when she was fretting about George this past week enough to know that there are always doubts. You’ll come around. You’re Tom’s soulmate.

“So tell me before you go,” you say, leaning forward to rest elbows on knees and chin on hands. “What do the foreigners think about my queen?”

Tom looks at you with confusion. “What?”

“It’s best to know what the enemy is saying,” is your stiff reply. “Might as well take advantage of the opportunity.”

“I’ve heard a lot of things about your queen,” Tom replies, leaning back and folding his hands over his stomach. He doesn’t miss the flutter of your eyelashes as you give him a quick once over and satisfaction pulls his lips up into a smirk. “That she’s a child. Weak. Stuffy for bringing back the old traditions.”

Secretly, Tom agrees with those rumors. The new Queen is a year younger than his nineteen years of age. Sure, he’s the leader of his men, but that’s much different than being the ruler of a whole kingdom. Plus, despite how no one has seen her in public for years, she decided to bring back the old Marvellian traditions of wearing a mask and not speaking in public. At this point the kingdom has no idea what their queen looks like despite her more frequent public appearances.

You might, though. If you’re her ‘closest confidant’ and ‘friend’.

“I’ve also heard,” Tom continues, “that she is so frail she sleeps frequently during the day, though I’ve also heard lazy.” He grins, enjoying the scowl that’s creasing your forehead. “And,” he admits reluctantly, “that all Marvel rulers are connected to their kingdoms with magic, and the queen is no different.”

You nod and lean back in your chair. “You and your men are thorns in her side.”

Tom doesn’t know if you mean that figuratively or literally. And frankly, he doesn’t care. He wants to talk more about you. He’d gotten you to scowl whilst insulting the queen, which means you’re not quite the statue he’d thought of you as.

And that means you can smile, too. You can laugh—Tom realizes for the first time what he would do to hear you laugh—and, most importantly, you can love Tom.

“That brings us to the true nature of my visit,” you say with a stern look like you blame Tom for distracting you. “Leave.”

“Wait, but…” Tom sits up straight. “What about…” he touches the words on his arm reverently.

“As I said before,” you say, visibly irritated, “there is no time for that.”

Tom takes a deep breath. “I can’t concede to you. Not without all my men knowing.”

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, how the governed rule the governors. That sounds like your problem, not mine.”

“I will come back,” Tom promises.

Your lip curls. It hurts him more than it should, especially considering he’s known you for about an hour at the most. “Would you really wait if I told you to? If I told you it would be years of loneliness? If I told you we might never—”

“Yes. You’re my soulmate.”

You scowl and turn away. “Hmm.”

“Wait!” he says desperately. “Don’t you… would you like an escort? On your way back, I mean?” Would you like just a little more time together?

You let out another unamused laugh. “Who would escort me? The one whose nose I broke or the one I kicked between the legs?”

“I could—” Tom begins hopefully but you hold up a hand to silence him. He doesn’t appreciate speaking to your back.

“I already have two Chiefs watching after me,” you say shortly. “And I know perfectly well that you and your men pass through this way every year. If you refrain from… Only take from those who can afford it,” you grit out. “Tell your men no destruction. And you may stay for the rest of your visit.”

“Will you be back?” Tom and his men only pass by Marvel once a year. Seeing you, his soulmate, just once, and then leaving for a whole year sounds like hell. “Just once. Tomorrow night.”

You shake your head after a moment of contemplation. Thankfully you’re still turned away so you don’t see the clear disappointment on his face. “That will just make it harder and you know it.”

He does know it. But can you blame Tom? He just met his honest-to-god soulmate.

“Doesn’t this mean anything to you?” His voice cracks.

“I can’t expect you to understand.”

“But I want to.”

“We’re all part of something bigger,” you say quietly. “And I can’t be selfish. Not right now.”

Tom stands. “All right.”

“R-what?” You turn around, pulling your eyebrows together into a frown.

“I’ll be back and you know it,” Tom promises. He brings one finger up to your cheek and barely touches the smooth skin. It feels like fireworks and the tent is suddenly entirely too hot. “And I hope you’ll be sorted out by then.”

“You’ll be better to find another girl,” you say quietly, swallowing noticeably but not pulling away from the caress. “Some camp girl who’s always with you. A girl with a choice.”

“I don’t care about any of them,” Tom insists and you snort.

“What about the beautiful girl with the large hair? It was obvious in the way you looked at her.”

All Tom notices from that remark is that you were watching him closely too, probably studying him as he’d done to you.

“Not a one,” he insists. “And even if I was, she found her soulmate a week ago when he joined the group.” You shake your head a tiny bit, a jerk he would’ve missed if he blinked. “If you change your mind we’ll be here until Sunday.”

“Find someone else,” you repeat, backing away and bumping into the side of the tent. “I won’t—I won’t come calling again. Don’t—” your fumbling fingers finally find the flap in the tent that is its opening. “Don’t get your hopes up,” you conclude, lunging forward at Tom. For one glorious second he imagines you’re going to kiss him, but then you’re tugging his sleeve down to hide his words. “I’ll—I’m not good enough—just find someone else.” And then, cheeks blazing, you slip out of the tent.

Harrison ducks in moments later after seeing both you and the white-haired girl off. Tom greets him with his sleeve pushed up again, fingers tracing over the beautiful cursive words. “Hey, Tom—holy shit!”

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[cherry-holland]

Amor Prohibido - Chapter 1

Pairing: Mob!Harrison Osterfield x Mob!Latina!reader

Warnings: some violence in the beginning, mild language, just overall Latina sass, and Haz being a cocky lil shit 🙃

A/n: WELL HELLO YALL. I know it’s been a minute since I’ve said I was gonna finish this 🙃 but this time of year has been really hectic for me, and I haven’t had the time to finish it like I wanted to. BUT, it is finished, and here for y’all!!! Huuuuuge s/o goes to @the-southernbelle for helping me with getting this to be a coherent piece, and @beautifullydisconnected and @osterfield-holland-andcompany for being just fucking gems 🥺 enjoy the first chapter! 🤗

You heard the door slam open, and various different voices shouting in Spanish and English, blending into one. Your mom held onto your hand tightly while the other held a shiny pistol, shielding your tiny frame.

“Mama, what’s going on?” You asked, lip quivering in fear.

“Shhh, mija, it’s gonna be okay. Just keep quiet, mi amor,” your mom whispered, running her free hand through your hair.

You nodded as you tried to keep your mind off of the chaos happening upstairs. Unfortunately, it was impossible to do so because of the ferocity of everything going on above you. You snuggled closer into your mom’s chest, covering your ears to aid in easing your nerves, but when gunshots rang out, you gasped softly, your tiny ears not used to the sound being so close to you.

There was one particular loud bang that shook you and your mother to the core, and then...

silence.

“Mama, is it safe to leave yet?” You asked after a long string of silence, looking up into her eyes.

“I’m guessing so, mija. Just be quiet and stay close by me,” she replied, and you noticed a flash of fear and anxiousness cross her eyes for a split second before her gaze grew back to the same look of bravery and boldness you knew her to wear.

You two quietly crept up the stairs from the panic room, and immediately you smelled the gunshot residue that thickly hung in the air. Once you reached the top, you saw a pool of red on the floor, and your eyes widened.

“Close your eyes for me, mi princesa? And tell me your dream from last night, the one with the unicornios and the Maceta de oro?” Your mom said calmly as she surveyed the scene in front of her, squeezing your hand that she was holding in reassurance.

“Okay, mama,” you chirped, “but what’s that red stuff on the floor?”

“Oh, just some paint. I think your papa got into a little bit of a mess this time, there’s paint everywhere,” she whispered. “Now, go ahead and tell me the story.”

You nodded and rambled on about your dream, until you heard a blood-curdling scream from your mother. Your eyes flew open to find your father on the floor, surrounded by a massive puddle of red, similar to the one you saw when you exited the panic room. He had these odd little holes in his chest that were covered in crimson, that same crimson trickling down his unmovable body. A chill ran up your spine at the sight, but you had no clue why.

“Mama, why isn’t papa breathing?” You asked, examining the sight in front of you.

Your mother turned to look at you with the same fear and anxious look, but with an overwhelming sense of sadness that was flooding out of her flawless face. Sobs wracked her body as she saw your face change from innocence to understanding, her heart slowly breaking at the realization that her precious little girl is no longer going to have a normal childhood after all of this.

“Mija, papa is gone.”

“Y/n!”

You snapped out of your thoughts at the shrill sound of your sister, Marisol, calling out to you, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

“Yes, Sol, what do you want?” You snarled, running your hands through your hair, ruby red nails peeking through your thick strands.

“Well, I wanted to go over with you just a couple of things for tonight,” Marisol responded sternly, igniting your annoyed mood.

An exasperated sigh left your lips as you looked up from your once-clean desk to face your right-hand woman. Her dark brown hair was perfectly curled and half-pulled back in a bun, the loose strands shining in the morning sunlight. Her black button-down top was rolled at the sleeves, black dress pants crisp and clean. Her bright red lips were a stark contrast to her olive skin, pursed as she waited for you to continue her daily update.

“Alright, go ahead,” you grumbled, leaning back into the sleek, black leather chair, crossing your arms over the long-sleeved red dress top you were wearing.

Marisol nodded as she continued, “First, we have the girls coming in at six to get ready for tonight. Second, that shipment of Bacardi is on schedule for this afternoon at twelve. And…”

You quipped a very nearly polished eyebrow at her, impatiently waiting for her to continue. “And what else, Marisol?”

Marisol cleared her throat, her hardened expression weakening before she replied, “The Osterfields will be in attendance.”

You rolled your eyes yet again as you placed your hands on your desk, folding them timidly. You’d heard about this other mob family that originated from London, and how they didn’t play well with other families. How they practically ran them out of the city, forcing them to either disbandon or flee from London and into the countryside. How their tactics were borderline sinister, and how they would stop at nothing to get what they want.

Unfortunately for them, you were not one to just give up.

Your family moved from New York to London after the huge success of your father’s underground strip club. Your father started the club when you were little, using it as a front to sell the most expensive drugs to the variety of dealers that surrounded the tri-state area. It went undetected for years, his connections with the NYPD being the massive benefactor to the success and longevity of the club and his deals.

However, the success came to a halt when your father was brutally murdered in your family home, with several of your uncles becoming casualties. Forgetting that day was nearly impossible since it was on replay all of the time, remembering the somber look on your mother’s face when she saw you father’s body, her clutching onto her swollen belly as she caressed your father’s face before his body was taken away by the coroner.

After that day, you were groomed to be the next boss of the family. Your mother took over most of it until you were 16, and since then you were running all operations - the club, the deals, etcetera. No one dared to speak out against your ascension to power out of respect for your father, and seeing how you dealt with the business--you had equally earned their respect. Just like your dad, you showed no mercy to those who try and cross you - if anything, you were less forgiving.

“Well, alright. If they want to scope us out and see what we’re made of, let’s give them a show, shall we, Sol?” You smirked, folding your hands neatly across your lap with a wicked glint in your eye.

“Y/n, need I remind you to not cause so much trouble tonight. We’ve only just got here to London, and we have yet to get these cops on our side,” Marisol warned. “So don’t do anything wild, loca.”

You let out a sharp laugh as you leapt out of your chair. “Sol, you know I show our camaradas the best time, don’t you worry.”

Marisol pursed her lips at your comment as you made your way out of the brightly lit office, the open windows streaming with golden light. “Alright, but no funny business.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you turned on the heel of your red-bottomed stilettos mid-walk with a quirked brow and a devilish smirk as you made your way to your room to get ready for the evening, thoughts brewing for what was to come.

~

The flashing red lights and the booming bass of the bachata music that was flowing from the speakers of the club was fueling your excitement as you and your hijas arrived. You were thankful there was a line out the door that wrapped around the block, filled with posh Brits who wanted a fun night out at the new and intriguing club. Posh Brits with money to blow - you favorite kind of people.

You always loved being able to christen a new club opening - club goers anxiously waiting outside to see what kind of concoction they are in store for, the girls twirling around on the poles with wads of cash peeking from their underwear, the feeling of everyone not being able to pry their eyes away from you. The various mobsters you had come in contact with within the past eight years always acted the same - they saw you were a woman, and thought they could run you over or intimidate you. Unfortunately for them, they all found out quickly you were not to be messed with. It usually starts with a mild form of violence, a nip of the ear there and nearly strangling them to death there, but what really gets them is when you say who you are, and whose daughter you are. Your family name was not one to be messed with, and everyone knew it.

Entering in the club, you smoothed down the red, leather bodycon dress, long hair sashaying in the wind as you made your way through the massive crowd of people. Marisol was close behind you, her navy blue, off-the-shoulder bandage dress looking nearly purple under the vivid lights that illuminated the dance floor. You looked around to see everyone’s eyes glued to you and your ladies, and a wicked grin crept onto your face.

Got them right where I want them.

You made it to your secluded corner of the club, the bouncer unhooking the burgundy velvet rope to let you and your crew in. You took a seat on the cool white leather of the lounge chair as you immediately began discussing business with Marisol and the women that encompassed your circle when you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You look up from your girls with a furrowed brow. Who the fuck would interrupt me like that? You thought as your eyes land on the culprit.

His dark blonde hair was neatly styled, the curls gently resting atop his head. Your eyes traveled down to his icy blue eyes, which were bearing a quizzical yet stern expression that could send even the toughest mobster shaking in their Italian leather shoes. He was wearing a cerulean three-piece suit with a crisp white button down, and the blue made his sparkling eyes stand out.

“My, my, my, what an honor it is to meet the Y/n Rivera,” The man draws with his accent thickening the tense air. “Really, it is an honor that you and your family are here. Never had such royalty in these streets before.”

You give the man in front of you a skeptical look as you get up from your seat, sauntering over to him with your infamous poker face painted on. “So you must be Harrison Osterfield, then. Never took you for a charmer.”

Harrison chuckled, looking down at the floor as his jaw goes slightly slack, a cocky expression encompassing his face. “In the flesh, darling.”

You pursed your lips and jutted your head towards the two men that were behind him, one with slicked back, dark brown curls, and the other with wild, auburn curls. “Who the fuck are they?”

“These are my right-hand men. Miss Rivera, this is Tom,” he gestured to the brunette on his right, “and this is Harry,” he turned his head towards the boy with the auburn hair. “Been with me from the start - they go where I go.”

The two men gave you a simple smile in response. You nodded your head with fake enthusiasm, and you stared at him unamused, waiting for him to continue on. “So, Mr. Osterfield, what is it that you’re here for?”

Harrison’s mouth twitched into a wicked smirk as he turned to Tom and Harry, and set his eyes back on yours. “What do you think I’m here for, Miss Rivera?”

“Well, I know how your operation works, Mr. Osterfield. You come in, intimidate the competition with your wit and confidence, and you think you can get anything you want with a snap of your fingers,” you demonstrated by pressing your fingers together, the snap echoing throughout the room, even with the loud music playing.

“But let me get things straight. You may have been the one to run these streets here, but now that I am here, this no longer applies. I am not one to be fucked with, do you understand? Not with your boyish charm, your looks, your money, or anything. Nothing you will ever say or do will ever get me to back down or even consider working with your family,” you snarled, getting up in the mobster’s face, which was red with anger. “So, Harrison, enjoy the fucking party. And if you ever try to pull this fucking shit again, your head will be on my silver platter. Understood?”

Everyone around the two of you was silent. Harrison’s henchmen were close behind him, chests puffed out and ready to defend their leader. Marisol was also beside you with the rest of your familia, guns out just waiting to be used. You studied Harrison’s pissed off expression, but you noticed that there was something else that he was hiding within the look he was giving you. Something almost… soft.

Harrison broke the silence as the anger immediately washed off his face, his smug look taking over. “Oh, darling, you’ll need me someday, I just know it. Because, like it or not, I know these streets like the back of my hand. And you’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

He turned to face Tom and Harry, who were silently glaring at your family to give them a knowing look, the two backing off with a nod. “We will be in touch, y/n.”

You watched the three men walk away, your nails making half-crescent marks in the palm of your hands. Your temper was through the roof at this point, steam nearly coming out of your ears. Your blood boiling, and it felt like it was about to overflow in your body. Harrison Osterfield was not about to get off that easily.

And you were going to make damn sure that he would regret testing you.

Tagging some mutuals whom I love 🤗 @farfromhaz @peterpxrxer @eeyore101247 @angelhaz11 @hoforhaz @hollandraul @heyhihellowhatsup0