#Rubix Junior Bear
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ok this is bri w muse number two strikes a pose n trots off to Write
『AXEL AURIANT ❙ CISMALE』 ⟿ looks like GUNNER PAXTON is here for HIS JUNIOR year as a FILM student. HE is 21 years old & known to be LOYAL, RESILIENT, ANXIOUS & COWARDLY. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ BRI. 22. EST. SHE/THEY.
pinterest is HERE.
stats.
name: gunner brick paxton.
age: twenty-one.
gender identity: cis-male.
pronouns: he/him.
sexuality: bicurious (in denial/closeted).
birthday: july 31, 1998.
star sign: leo.
myers-briggs: intj.
year of study: junior.
major: film.
occupation: librarian.
place of birth: laramie, wyoming.
religion: catholic (non-practicing).
background.
fr those who read elias’ bio u kno tht gunner is the middle paxton child w eli being his older brother n wyatt being the youngest!!
they lived at the top of a hill in a trailer in a trailer park neighbourhood in laramie, wyoming so to say the least that fucking sucked for everyone involved
the trailer was so small that all 3 boys ended up sharing a room, gunner and wyatt sharing a bunk bed bc they cldnt fit 3 beds into one room it really was every childs nightmare bt they quickly grew used to it tbh
gunner was always more of an artsy child than invested in sports - though he does enjoy baseball and continued even to this day after their day made him join SOMETHING in middle school - so he never rly earned their father’s respect, but he was always close with his mom since they had the same calm temperament
he also gained a list of mental health issues that their mom had as well, including social anxiety and major depressive disorder
their father always encouraged pretty volatile behaviour and it caused a lot of physical fights and arguments between the brothers when their dad told them the best way to get over it was to start hurting until someone tapped out, it was just a chaotic and pretty abusive household but no one knew and their mom definitely wasn’t going to say anything about it to their dad
wyatt went missing on a weekend that their parents were gone because of a trip they won, and things just got worse from there
high school was really rough for gunner, his anxiety grew worse as time went on that no one found wyatt, their dad grew more hostile towards them, and their mom just grew sicker, it was rare that she would ever leave her room and if she did it was in fits of random energy where she would do something spontaneous and completely unnecessary to their house as a way of coping
the two years that gunner was at home after elias finally left for school were basically torture and as soon as he could, he was falling his brother’s footsteps in getting out of wyoming to go to school at radcliffe
things are far better now that they’re out of their home situation, but gunner’s going through some more things personally now; the paxton’s were raised in an incredibly religious household, and he’s got some classic Catholic Guilt going on upon realizing that mayhaps he’s not just attracted to women and just frankly refuses to touch on it rly its a whole ass mess
he’s also ‘dealing’ rn which is frankly funny to think abt bc this man is abt as threatening as a care bear bt money is tight between him and eli all things considering, and with the amount of meds he’s on, plus incredibly frequent doctor’s visits, needing to pay for extra epi-pens, inhalers, etcs. bills add up so he’s cutting back his meds n selling wht he can spare which is . so unhealthy bt thts life in corporate america baybee!
details.
is literally allergic to everything. grass, cats, most fruits, milk, most nuts, bees, latex, probably more i cnt even keep up w them its pathetic
u can catch him n eli strutting around campus w matching epipen holders tht he got them fr eli’s 16th bday JKSDNGKLHSDGLK
if things cldnt get worse he also has quite intense asthma so he carries an inhaler with him at all times
n to make matters even WORSE he frequently has dizzy spells n bad memory problems bc of all the concussions he’s suffered from (about 5) as well as consistent migraines that can b literally debilitating sometimes
awkward n jst a bit of a Weirdo to b frank like if it weren’t fr eli he wld probably have one (1) friend he jst cnt converse w ppl
didnt have any friends in high school so took the time to teach himself rly weird things, knows a fuck ton of magic tricks, can yodel, juggle, solve a rubix cube with his eyes closed in under 2 minutes, just extremely weird and specific things
loves 2 film random things at parties, makes him feel more comfortable at them n he makes short films of them all after
connections.
ppl who buy off him?? probs wld have to kno him some way hes too scared to sell to Random randoms KJSHDGKLHSDLG
other film majors :-)
some friends.......... hes awkward bt he means well............
a mans he wld Risk It All fr (aka a guy tht gunner probs acts like a dick towards to cover up Homosexual Feelings)
ppl he has a crush on/unrequited crushes either way wtvr floats ur boat
some enemies tbh much like elias he has a temper n he tends to blow up rarely bt it happens n when it does it actually can b quite scary JKSHDGLHSDG
a muse..... mayhaps?? someone he always wants in his film projects
an awkward hook up i beg of u
anything Ur Heart Desires
#radintro#abuse tw#missing child tw#kidnapping tw#ig..... technically yes#depression tw#anxiety tw#wheezes at these all#SHDLGKHLSKDG
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Run To Me | Sequel to Blow A Kiss, Fire A Gun | Prologue!
PART ONE IS OUT AND HERE!
{Y/N} - I apologise if the read more doesn’t work on the origional post!
The therapist stared the small girl down. Little brown curls littered her forehead like springs as she fiddled with the teddy bear in her hands. It was a little bit tattered at the edges, a certain spot of fur matted together but it was the little blue bear that she’d had since birth, the one that hid at the bottom of her junior school bag because she refused to go to school without it… some days. Some days she preferred the small, white and slightly creepy looking cat that she’d carry around by the tale.
Her hands. Red, raw, bloody. Your own daughter, falling apart right before your very eyes.
“Rosie?” The therapist asks, trying to come to eye level with your daughter but it was difficult. Despite her blabbering on about how independent (without actually using that word) and brave she is, she struggled to even look into the eyes of a stranger.
“Rose?” You whisper, bobbing your knee up and down to get the small girls attention. “Can you talk to the lady please?”
“I don’t want to be here.” She mumbles, bottom lip falling into a pout. “I wanna go home.”
You take one of her hands in your own, thumb gently running over the little pink and white hello kitty band-aids. She doesn’t seem to notice, looking at the pile of kids toys that sat in the corner of the room.
“Harper just wants to help you like she helps me.” You try to prevent your voice from shaking and almost fail too if it weren’t for a quick side eye from the therapist. “She’s nice, sweetheart.”
Your daughter was never difficult, on edge definitely and you partially blamed yourself. She’d been bought up seeing you hide in a shell both of your old self and one of pure fear and terror, merely smiling and sometimes not even leaving the bed. On those days your daughter would lay next to you, a rerun of teen titans or how to train your dragon on Netflix. She surely heard your screams in the very middle of the night and saw you freak out whenever she was too loud.
“No, mum.” Your daughter looks up, her glassy eyes finally off of the teddy bear. She begins wriggling around in your arms, the small girl grunting as she fails down your lap. “I wanna play with the toys.”
You were unsure but eventually sigh, letting her go. The near-five-year-old jumps down, little legs making their way towards what children would call ‘Heaven’. There were lego pieces and board games and the odd Rubix cube but your attention was directed towards her little hands, the size of a large tomato but that didn’t worry you, what did was the fact that her hands were the color of one.
The therapist coughs gently, leaning forward in her seat. “So from what you’ve shown me I definitely see signs.”
You weren’t surprised, not even batting an eyelash. “What can we do from here?” You ask, foot tapping gently against the carpeted floor, a nervous habit.
“There’s nothing you really can do, neither can I considering her age. Rosie is young, this could easily just be a phase.” She almost shrugs it off casually, black glasses slipping down her nose and she was quick to shove them up again, eyelashes hitting the frames.
“So you just want me to-” You begin, with no success.
“You can bandage them, give her toys to play with and keep her nails short but that’s about it for now-”
“You want me to let my daughter keep doing this to herself? To sit back and watch?” You feel your eyes prickle and Rosie seems to ignore your sudden outburst. Either she was listening carefully as she often did, focusing despite your knowledge or she was completely oblivious, focusing purely on the game pieces.
A wave of anger washes over you, as well as fear and guilt. The system was screwed up, sure, but you didn’t know how bad until then and there. Your hands trembled, afraid that you couldn’t stop this, you couldn’t be the mother Rosie needed.
“There is nothing I can do. I’m sorry, I know it must be hard but you can help, even just by talking to her about what she’s doing.”
You grit your teeth, hands clenching around the arms of the chairs. If you gripped them any harder you fear the wood breaking off, snapping beneath your fingertips and causing a magnitude of splinters.
Rosie listens, wondering why the two adults were talking about her while she was in the room. The little girl was notorious for picking up things she shouldn’t and at that moment she was trying to decipher what they were saying and why her mum looked like she was about to cry.
Her chubby fingers toy with a Rubix cube and while she had no idea what she was doing, she adored the bright colors. However, they clashed with the pink and white that decorated her hands. The hello kitty ones were her favorite, definitely better than the wiggles band-aids that’d been forced on her last week by the teachers at school.
What was wrong with her?
{ Tom }
“I don’t care what you have tomorrow, We need to have a fucking meeting.” Tom spat into the phone, face red hot with anger. “Your girlfriend can fucking wait. This is important.”
His hands gripped the very roots of his hair, anger racing through every phone as the man on the other end tried to get out of it. Tom couldn’t completely blame him, he’d do the same if he was about to lose his head.
The silence was all that could be heard through the other end of the phone between heavy, nervous breaths and the mobster already knew that he had this one in the bag.
“I can try-”
‘Try’ wasn’t good enough, nowhere near it for the mob boss who had already been pushed past his breaking point by the same client multiple times. He was ready to get his hands dirty again, paint the town red and grey and make those that deserved it fall to their knees.
Tom turned towards his desk, fingers clenching around the cool gun, the metal making goosebumps arise. “You will be there or I swear to god-”
“Okay! Okay, I’ll be there.” Wilson muttered, pursing his lips together in defeat.
Tom almost laughed at the nerves that were visible through even the phone. The guy's voice shook with fear.
Tom hung up the phone, slamming it down on the desk in pure anger. People that messed with him and his business didn't get off the hook easily and this guy was no different- the fact that he thought he was made Tom’s blood boil. It made the wheels in his brain spin with different possibilities and ways he could show the client who the boss was in this situation.
“He’s coming?”
“He’ll be there.”
-
Words: 1524
Warnings: There will be violence, sexual references, and possible smut. (no guarantees) This story will also focus around both Y/N and her daughters struggle with mental illnesses so if you’re not okay with talks/symptoms of PTSD and OCD disorders the this won’t be for you.
Notes: Angels, I think you all deserve this fic after waiting so long. As someone with an OCD disorder (not the one that’ll be portrayed in this series), I’m so excited to delve into mental illness in fiction and do my best to portray it properly and just expand my horizons.
- There are a lot of dad/mafia series, so if this seems similar to yours then message me for credit.
Posting day: Tuesdays.
PLEASE LEAVE FEEBACK!
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#tom holland#tom holland imagines#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland series#tom holland au#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#reader insert#fanfiction#mob!tom
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11-20
I’m finally getting around to answering this. Sorry for taking so long!
11. What was your last dream about? Zaya
12. What would you do if you won the lottery?
Buy a house, car, give some to charity
13. Would you like to build/design your own house?
Not really. I’ve always hated those school activities where they ask you to design your dream house. Such a pipedream.
14. Which form of public transport do you prefer?
Car
15. What talents do you have?
Singing, editing videos, crying on cue
16. Can you juggle?
No
17. Can you solve a rubix cube?
Only like one side
18. Do you have a cherished childhood teddy bear?
I had a pikachu stuffed animal that I think I still have somewhere
19. Are you psychic in any way?
Sometimes… but most of the time it’s just deja vu
20. Are you a good actor?
I hope so. I took drama in my junior year.
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