frank knuckle

anonymous asked:

what are some underrated movies you think deserve more recognition?

*cracks knuckles* frank, a coffee in berlin, short term 12, a girl walks home at night alone, shame, my own private idaho, antiviral (so visually stunning), before I disappear, bottle rocket, lars and the real girl, ondskan x

A Latté and a Black Coffee

Originally posted by opalcrystals

Originally posted by kurtweller


A/N: Hi all, I’m back!! I was inspired for this one by a post by @imagine-x-everything. This is going to be a 3 part story. I want to make this a series with different Marvel characters; same coffee shop, different story lines. Let me know what you think. If you want to see more, follow my blog or let me know if you want me to tag you :)

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader, Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags- I tagged based on previous requests, or if I saw you comment on imagine-x-everything’s post: @atari-writes @sistasarah-sallysaidso @tanovic54321 @willowtighe @xoxoaudreymarie @romiet-juleo @maddybeck01 @tachibubu @cuddleskitty @thisusernamehasbeentaken @marvel-11 @rimaris

You stared blankly at your coffee, pondering how you let things get this far. You are pretty sure if you searched the bottom of the river, you’d find that asshole. You took a shaky breath and retraced your steps to the beginning.

—–

All you wanted was to have your own coffee shop. But, you struggled to find clients. Not many people wanted to go to Hell’s Kitchen for a cup of joe. That was until Matt, the blind lawyer. He referred all his clients to your small establishment. You appreciated that more than words could express. Because of this, Matt would get his medium latté for free. And the slow trickle of customers snowballed into early morning rushes, late morning commuters, midday lunch meetings and the late night insomniacs.

Matt was part of the late morning commuters. You could tell he stayed up late at night, with the dark circles under his eyes. But he always came in charming and cheerful. He would get his coffee, insist on paying, which you always refused, and he would put the cost of his coffee in the tip jar with a devilish smirk on his handsome face. Matt had a way of making feel like a school girl again. You could swear that even though he was blind, he could tell when your heart fluttered when he walked in the door. You could almost see his head tilt to the side, as if he was listening for you. It’s what you looked forward to in the mornings.

But there was always something to anticipate closer to closing. He would come in, order a large black coffee in a soft, gruff voice, then sit at the corner table. You didn’t need ask for his name, you recognized his strong profile and tell-tale bruising on his face and knuckles. Frank was a loyal customer since you first opened. He came in at 8pm, on the dot and always tipped extra.

You remembered how nervous you were when you first met him. You weren’t sure if you wanted him in your shop- a criminal and all. At the same time, you didn’t blame him for the crimes that he committed. Hell, you even admired the fear he instilled in the thugs in the neighborhood. And it didn’t escape your notice the sudden lack of petty crime that took place on the block of your coffee haven. Your street was noticeably safer than others in Hell’s Kitchen.

Until that asshole walked into your shop. It was 9am, you and your employee Sarah whizzed around filling people’s orders for coffee and pastries. You heard the ding of the bell and looked up to see Matt walking in.

“Hey Matt! There’s an open table to your right. I’ll bring you your coffee after we fill these orders,” you shouted over the line. Matt smiled and took a seat. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell if the uptick in your heart rate was because of him, or your increased working pace. After a few minutes, you walked up to him with a mug filled with a freshly made latté.

“Sorry for the wait,” you apologized, feeling bad for the several minute wait.

“No worries, Y/N. Its good to see this place so busy” Matt replied, handing over a five dollar bill.

“You know I don’t charge you,” you scolded.

“I know, it’s Sarah’s tip,” he replied with a smirk. You smiled and took the bill and went to the tip jar. There was enough of a lull for you to empty most of the tip jar out, save for Matt’s bill and a couple of one’s. That’s when he walked in.

You could smell the booze coming off of him the moment he stepped in. It made you want to vomit. You glanced at Sarah to see she felt the same way. But the petite redhead smiled and asked what she could get the drunkard.

“Whatever your sweet little ass feels like making,” he slurred to her, staring at her chest the whole time. You felt a fire flare up in your chest. No one was going to harass anyone in your establishment. You calmly pulled Sarah aside and looked up at the gentleman calmly. You didn’t notice Matt lean forward to listen behind the customer.

“Hello, sir,” you said in a terse tone. “We offer a variety of beverages so unfortunately, you need to give us a specific request as to what you’d prefer.” You forced yourself to smile, trying to be diplomatic. His smile dropped slightly, and replied, “Whatever’s cheap.”

You turned to fill his order, glad Sarah had left to the supply room. The last thing you wanted was for him to continue to sexually harass your employee. You made a small drip with 1 cream and 1 sugar. You turned and gave him his coffee. He sipped it and then spat it out on the floor.

“What the fuck is this shit?” He exclaimed.

“You wanted our cheapest coffee, so that’s what I made. That will be $2.00 please.”

“I ain’t paying for this shit, bitch!”

“That’s fine. You can leave, and not come back.”

“Listen here, you cu-”

“Excuse me, sir” Matt appeared out of nowhere next to the belligerent man. “You asked for a coffee, she gave you a coffee. Pay her what you owe, and don’t return.” You felt the blood drain from your face at Matt’s dark tone. You’ve never seen him like this.

“I ain’t paying for shit, you blind asshole! If anything, this bitch owes me for harassing a good customer.” The man then reached into the tip jar and pulled all the money that had been left there. Before you could blink, Matt’s hand wrapped around the man’s wrist and he slammed it into the counter.

“You are going to put the money down and leave,” Matt growled. The man glared at Matt’s glasses. You heard the bell of the door ring and you looked up to see the Punisher walk in.

Frank immediately assessed the situation, and his hand quickly reached for his belt. Your heart rate skyrocketed. You didn’t want your little shop destroyed in a hail of bullets over seven dollars.

“Just leave! Take the damn coffee and leave!” You shouted. A tense moment filled the air; Matt’s hand tightened around the man’s wrist, Frank’s jaw twitched and his hand tightened it’s grip around his glock and the drunk glanced between you and Matt.

“This place is a dump anyway.” He wretched he hand away from Matt, grabbed his coffee and stormed past Frank out the door. But before you could breathe a sigh of relief, you heard the thump of the coffee cup hitting the front of the store. Coffee was splattered across the window and sidewalk.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath and counted to ten, calming your nerves. When you opened your eyes, Frank was gone. You were alarmed for a moment before Matt spoke.

“Are you alright?” He inquired. You gave Matt a small smile. “I’ve dealt with worse. You didn’t have to intervene. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” Matt scoffed before a small scowl appeared.

“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that; you or Sarah.” Before you could respond, Matt continued. “This is one of the few nice places in Hell’s Kitchen. I’ll do whatever I need to to help keep it that way.” You were so touched by his words you were speechless. You felt tears of appreciation form as Matt weaved through the tables back to grab his cane. As he walked to the door he turned slightly.

“I hope your day goes a lot smoother, Y/N.” And the little bell rang as he left your shop.

And your day did go by better. But Frank never showed up. When 9:30 pm rolled around, a wave of disappointed filled your gut. You shrugged it off, locked up the store, and headed up the stairs to your apartment above. As you layed in bed, contemplating the day, a thought hit you- did Matt walk through the tables of the lobby as if he could see??

You shrugged off the thought, you were stressed out, not remembering things clearly. You closed your eyes, blissfully unaware of the moral turmoil you would be faced with.

The next morning was like any morning, but sadly, absent Matt. You were getting annoyed with how disappointed you were getting over your customers lack of attendance. Then, it was 8:00 pm.

The door bell chimed as heavy boots thumped into your dining area. You turned after a moment to see Frank standing there, watching you with soft eyes.

“Perfect! Your normal brew should be just about done.” You said cheerfully. You heard Frank chuckle as he headed to his usual spot. You grabbed his normal mug and the filled carafe and walked over to his table. As you filled his cup, you noted the bruise on his cheek and his damaged knuckles. One looked like it was about to start bleeding.

“Missed you last night,” You mused. “You cheating on me with a better coffee spot?” Frank smiled and let out a gruff laugh.

“Ain’t no place better than this, ma'am.” You smiled, but before you could reply, Frank continued. “I had some business to take care of.” He carefully watched your face fall slightly. You felt a punch to your gut. Surely, he didn’t do something.

“Nobody disrespects you, Y/N. Ever.” Frank finished with a sip of his coffee. Though you loathed the thought of what happened to that drunk, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of safety and security wash over you. A feeling of contentment knowing that you have someone watching over you.

“You need a bandage,” you said, indicating his hand. Frank looked down, brows furrowed. “Let me get the first aid kit.” You smiled and walked away. Frank’s eyes never left your figure.

You reached under the counter to grab the little white box when you overheard the reporter on the TV.

“… man’s been missing. His wife reported seeing the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen lurking around their apartment last night. Other eyewitnesses claim that they heard gunshots as saw the Punisher walk down a back alley and disappear.”

You glanced up to see a photo of the same customer from yesterday grace the screen. His smiling face was between his wife and what looked like his son. A powerful wave a nausea hit you. You looked over at Frank. He was looking right back at you, eyes cold.

——

You didn’t know how to feel. You could have sworn Frank did something, but maybe not. Maybe it was the Daredevil. That man was a father and a husband. He was most likely dead. How could you live with yourself knowing he could be dead?

It wasn’t your fault he was an asshole. He was a predator, leering at poor Sarah like a prize to be won. Maybe it was good he was gone.

You didn’t have time to ponder. You heard the door ring as your first wave of customers started coming in.

Music

Does anyone else have just that one band that whatever happens or however long its been they just always feel like home

I have so many
Even when I feel lonely or angry or stressed or depressed I have these people who I’ve never met and don’t even know I exist making me feel better through poetry they probably wrote in the middle of the night while they we’re going through the same things
Sometimes things are so fucked up and music heals so much pain its amazing

I don’t think I’d be here without music

anonymous asked:

I'm not sure if you've done one like this before, but could you maybe do a fic where Karen has been trying to avoid Frank because she has a bruise and or cuts due to investigating too far into something and she knows Frank will get angry, however he finally catches up to her? (Your writing has given me lots of late nights by the way I can't get enough)

It’s a habit she has, gazing at herself in the mirror before bed, trying to find answers in the shadows under her eyes. The bathroom feels strange after she steps out of the shower. Cocoon-like, warm and close. It feels like a time capsule straight from her childhood. The tile here is different though, pristine and white. She tries to focus on the difference, but it’s futile. She can hear her mother crying softly in the echoey bathroom, can see the way she’d gently dabbed at her own cuts and bruises in the soft light. The memory sends anger surging through Karen, and she tries to blink it away, but her reflection doesn’t lie. There are unwelcome flashes of her father swimming in the blue depths of her eyes, a hint of violence simmering just below the surface. It’s hard to push it away, to breathe deeply and ignore what’s been taken from her… what she’s taken.

Keep reading

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D’Angelo - What Is & What Should Never Be

Swords & Kisses

ask : i was hoping you could write an imagine about Frank cuz Frank needs some lovin too. It doesn’t have to be anything specific I just want it to be fluffy !!!

UGH I LOVE FRANK MY UNAPPRECIATED SOFT BIG GUY YES. this took way longer than i thought I hate myself for taking so long I’m sorry. also I hope this is fluffy enough but idk at this point. I’m not a romantic !!

warning : leo mcshizzle bad boy valdez (that’s it bc he’s a jackass but he’s mY JACKASS)

How fast could a normal demigod, who frequently skips sword practice, archery, and usually any physical activity in camp, run?

You hoped fast enough.

“Y/N!! YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD.” You sped up slightly, weaving through the crowd. Camp Jupiter finally came around, which means your boyfriend, Frank, came around as well.

“FRANK!” You screeched, leaping over someone bent down, and landing it. You paused slightly.

Okay, that was cool.

“Y/N?” Frank cocked his head in confusion, and you nearly doubled over in pain from running too fast. Wrapping your arm around his torso, you spun, hiding behind his tall and built frame. “Why are you hiding behind me- what did you do?”

Pressing your face against his back, you sent back a very muffled “Shhh!”

“Zhang! My Roman brother. Have you seen your girlfriend around? She kinda deserves a few bruises here and there.” Clarisse cracked her knuckles, and Frank sighed.

“What did she do this time?” Frank asked, and you dug your nails into his sides.

“It’s not my fault!” You hissed, and you heard a bitter laugh from Clarisse. Your hand was grasped, and a yelp escaped your lips, as Clarisse put you into a headlock, ruffling your (h/c) hair.

“Awe, found her. Thanks Zhang.” You rolled your eyes, and your boyfriend shot you a soft smile.

“C'mon Clarisse. Let her go, I just got here.” Frank plead slightly, and she smirked.

“Why? Wanna be alone with your girl for a while?” Clarisse teased, and Frank turned a lovely shade of tomato red.

“Not like that! I-” Frank sputtered, and you giggled slightly in Clarisse’s grasp. She finally let you go, and you pressed a kiss against Frank’s cheek.

“Uh-I-” Frank smiled sheepishly, as you smiled up at your boyfriend.

“Hey-” Grasping his collar, you looked up at Frank, tugging him down slightly so you were closer to him. A soft smile spread across your face, and Frank cocked his head in the cutest way. “I missed you, Zhang.”

Smiling, Frank cocked an eyebrow down at you. “I missed you too Y/N.” He spoke softly, before pressing his lips against yours.

“YES FRANK!” Leo screeched from god knows where, causing Frank to pull back suddenly in shock. Letting your head fall, you grumbled beneath your breath.

“How do you deal with Valdez?” Frank asked, and a laugh escaped your lips.

“You’d be surprised Zhang. Leo has his moments where he’s not a complete jackass.” You laughed, insulting your close friend slightly.

“I have yet to see it-” Frank grumbled slightly. Shaking your head, amused, you pulled away from Frank’s grasp.

“You haven’t given him a chance. I feel like you two would get along pretty well if you just tried to be his friend.” You beamed up at Frank. It wasn’t hard for him to agree with you, Frank didn’t really enjoy conflict.

“Effort has to come from both ends, L/N. I-” Frank’s sentence was cut short. Percy and Jason both came up, barely sparing you a glance.

“Frank, my man!” Percy pulled Frank into a hug, another hug from Jason following soon after. Laughing slightly at Frank’s initial shock, you watched as the two boys tugged your boyfriend away.

“Y/N! I’m glad I caught you-” Turning around, you smiled, tugging the young daughter of Pluto into her arms. A slight squeal escaped her lips, and you smiled.

“Long time no see Hazel!” You beamed down at her, and Hazel blushed, laughing slightly.

“I didn’t think you’d be so excited to see me, hi Y/N.” Hazel smiled. You wrapped an arm around Hazel’s shoulders, and caught up with Annabeth, Piper, and Reyna.

“Hazel!” Piper pulled Hazel from your arms, and Annabeth laughed, shaking her head. Smiling, you watched the girls reconnect, talking about things you barely knew about. Of course, you were the odd one out, but you loved watching their shared expressions, the laughs, and the shared solemnity. “How about you, Y/N? What have you been up to?” Pulling you out of your daze, Piper wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into the conversation.

You looked warily at the four girls. Who saved the world. Who could rightfully kick your ass if they wanted to. “Me? I uh-” You tried to think, but all you could remember was playing pranks with the Stolls, and avoiding any training. “Slacking, to be honest.” You finally answered, and the girls laughed.

Reyna cracked a smile. “Come on Y/N. Wouldn’t you like to train with Frank?” She teased, and you shook your head, amused.

“I’d like to train with someone more on my level. Like, I dunno, Harley?” You cocked your head, and you heard a familiar laugh behind you, as Leo slung his arms over your and Piper’s shoulders.

“Harley would kick your ass Y/N.” Leo laughed, and you scowled, watching the boys of the quest join the circle.

“Yeah well, at least it would be funny.” You muttered, and you watched Nico appear beside Reyna.

“Frank could teach you how to fight, couldn’t you Frank?” Piper asked, looking up at your boyfriend.

“I mean, sure. But I’m not so good at sword fighting- Percy’s better at that.” Frank spoke sheepishly, and Percy shook his head.

“No, Frank, teach Y/N a bit. You’re good.” Percy reassured his friend, and Frank brightened up a bit. He really looked up to Percy.

“So, it’s a date where I get my ass kicked?” You asked, and Frank blushed.

“A date?” He asked.

“Yes Zhang, a date.” You smiled up at your boyfriend.

Glaring at the sun, you were on your back once more. “This is the best date I’ve ever been on. Very classy.” You muttered sarcastically. Frank sheepishly held a hand out for you to grab, and he pulled you to your feet.

“WOOO GO Y/N!!!” Leo shouted, waving a poster with your name, and a very horribly edited picture of you with a sword on it.

Lovingly flipping the fiery Latino off, you faced your boyfriend once more, wielding the sword again. “I’ll get this, eventually. You know I don’t think I’m cut out to be a demigod.” You shrugged, and watched Frank’s movements.

Frank jabbed first, and you blocked it, pushing him back, whacking him in the stomach with the flat of your blade. Greeks and Romans fought very differently, and you used that to your advantage slightly. “Good one Y/N!” Percy called from the stands. You turned to beam at him.

“Pay attention. I don’t want to cut your head off accidentally.” Frank chuckled, swiping at your head. Ducking, you slashed at his ankles, and he kicked forward, sending you on your back again. Out of air, you stared at the sun.

“Why must Zeus punish me this way.” You exclaimed dramatically.

“SORRY!” Jason called back, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Frank pulled you up again, and shot you a warm smile.

“C'mon Y/N. I know you’ll get it.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss of encouragement to your lips, and you smiled, before pulling away, holding the edge of your sword to his neck.

“Didn’t you say never get distracted?” You asked, and Frank laughed, turning red slightly, his gaze falling to your torso. Looking down, the point of Frank’s sword was digging into your stomach.

“Romans always have a plan.” He smiled at you. Groaning, you stepped back.

“I’m calling that one a tie, Zhang. I need at least one win.”

- nezzie

sleepyaugustus  asked:

I NEED HEADCANONS SARAH

I CAN COMPLY

  • Nico uses the self check-out line in the grocery store every time because it means you’ll have minimal human interaction and he’s all for that. He’s MASTERED the self check out and he’ll actually help other people. Like an older lady is having trouble getting the damn thing to scan her bread and Nico smiles faintly, steps up, and asks if he can be of assistance. The elderly are okay, they’re usually very kind. And she doesn’t care that he has shaggy hair and his clothes are all black. She just smiles and hands him the loaf. Nico does all of the scanning for her and she tells him that he’s a fine young man and Nico is just BEAMING for the rest of the day.
  • Percy and Jason have the same shoe size and they swap shoes all the time. 
  • Frank has the biggest feet
  • “you know what they say about a guy with big feet” “no, what?” “..uh..they say ‘damn you got some big feet’”
  • Hazel always doodles in her notebook during senate meetings- horses, various animals, and the faces of the people around her. Especially Frank, with his strong jawline.
  • Nico is the one who holds the door open for someone like 3 miles away and gets stuck holding the door for EVERYONE coming in and out because he doesn’t want to just leavenow. You can definitely see the indecision on his face and his forehead is creased and you’re just gonna have to drag that boy away
  • Percy does that jingly leg thing and you just have to reach out and touch his knee like dOWN BOY
  • Jason licks his lips a lot
  • like a lot
  • Percy is seriously so talented at braiding hair what the fuck (it’s because of Annabeth and crafts. we all know it)
  • Jason and Percy can quote the entirety of Legally Blonde and 
  • Jason can’t pour anything without spilling it (maybe it’s at the fault of Piper, you’ll just never know)
  • Piper always wears mismatched socks (colorful, patterned, etc)
  • Who has the most shoes in the seven? Piper? Maybe Jason? NAH- it’s Frank. Have you noticed that Rick always adds more details to Frank’s outfit than any other demigod? He does. Frank definitely has more shoes than humanly possible.
  • Nico is the most ticklish- don’t even touch his feet at all. he’ll pee himself right there.
  • Hazel accidentally makes sexual innuendos without realizing it (and everyone always laughs and won’t tell her why)
  • At the house, Percy is a barefoot kind of guy while Annabeth is a socks-on kind of person. (although he’ll wear socks for sock slides with her and he’ll do that white dress shirt sock slide from Risky Business
  • Jason has a springy/bouncy walk like he’s walking on air (HEH)
  • Piper likes to sit on the arm of chairs and couches instead of the actual seat and Jason is all “thAT IS AUTHENTIC LEATHER, PIPER, GET OFF.”
  • She really just likes to annoy him
  • Reyna always has mints or gum in her pocket (trust me)
  • Reyna really just has a sweet tooth and has a whole stash of candy all the time
  • Don’t lie to or near Percy- he will always be able to see straight through you. (remember in SoN when he saw through REYNA? I do.)
  • Percy always bumps into things and apologizes
  • Jason is the one that always rolls coins around his fingers and knuckles. 
  • Frank and Hazel All of the seven always carry change in their pocket to give to beggars and the homeless
  • Jason and Percy take stupid dares/bets for ridiculously small amounts of money. “Percy! It’s just a dollar!” “A dollar buys me 2 tacos at Jack in the Box!”
  • Since Percy always has Riptide, he idly doodles on any piece of paper in front of him.
  • At restaurants, Percy is the kind of guy who will reset the condiments and tidy things up (sally is a wonderful person)
  • Percy is basically immune to brain freezes whereas Frank can’t even drink anything with ice in it
  • Annabeth and Jason have the crazy ability to calculate the total of items in the shopping cart and the tax 
  • No one eats more ice cream and yogurt than Frank after he discovers the beautiful existence of lactaid tabs

wow this is really long, I’m just gonna stop now. 

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: i know frank iero's knuckles spell out "halloween" b/c of his birthday, but sometimes i just think about how, if one were to only look at his left hand, he literally has "ween" tattooed across his fingers. his left knuckles, alone, spell out the word "ween." do you think frank considered this when he got the tattoo?? do you think the thought ever crosses his mind?? does frank iero know his left hand says "ween."

phoenixyfriend  asked:

BEFORE THE BEGINNING

His mom used to call him energetic, shining a tired smile as she pushed her almost too long brown bangs out of her face, the rest secured snugly on the base of her neck. She used to say it lovingly as she helped him with his math homework patiently as he wiggled and bounced in the hard wooden chairs that sat at the kitchen table. His dad would roll his eyes, snagging another beer from the fridge before trudging back to the recliner in the living room, though not before placing a light tap on Tommy’s head and telling him to “settle his ass down”. Mary’s eyes would be adverted, her pale skin looking washed out in her lavender scrubs and mousy brown hair looking greasy.

As he got older the words got less sweet, the look less fond. Frank would still smack his head but Mary would begin to get up, “Don’t touch my fucking son!”

“No?” Frank would spit out, getting up in her face and breathing his alcohol breath onto her, “You’re going to tell me how to discipline my fucking son?”

It was around then that his eyes started getting lighter, going from a dark brown to a hazel until finally settling in a startling green, Mom way too exhausted to worry other than asking some questions at the hospital. When his dark brown hair started falling out, he tried to hide it, wearing hoods and combing it differently but his too small hands couldn’t do much.

“The boy is fine!” Frank would bellow, throwing a beer bottle at Mary and watching it shatter against the wall. Tommy cowered in the kitchen, back firmly pressed against the wall in the small space between the fridge and the wall, the trash can situated in front of him. His legs had started to itch earlier that week, him clawing at them and leaving red welts from bitten nails and trails of blood where his fingers had caught too many times. He would come out later, after he could hear Frank’s loud snores from the other room and Mary’s angry scrubbing at the sink.

He’d walk to the table, slowly, before sitting down and pulling out his homework. He would tap his foot, trying to concentrate as his mom put a glass of chocolate milk in front of him. But then he wobbled a little to much, little arms flailing as his knee knocked into the table and the milk pitched over the edge. He watched in slow motion as it landed on the ceramic of the floor, glass shattering and milk going everywhere.

“Goddamn it, Tommy!” Mary said sharply, turning to him as her black eye was shadowed in the dusk that lit the kitchen, “Can’t you sit still for one minute?”

His lip wobbled, and he felt tears gather in his eyes, staring at Mary until she groaned in disgust.

“I need a smoke.” She muttered, leaving the room. He tried to mop up the milk, glass slicing into little palms and knobbly knees, until Frank found him. His dad stared down at him with stormy blue eyes, before sighing and taking him to the bathroom, painfully extracting little bits of glass.

“That’s not a man’s job.” Frank confided to him, pouring alcohol over the cuts and ignoring Tommy’s hiss of pain.

When Tommy looked into the mirror in the bathroom, after Frank went back downstairs for more beer, he stared at himself with bandages covering his hands and bright green eyes and spotted hair, his legs started to itch more and more.

It all came to a head when Tommy came home with a big fat F on his spelling test, not having be able to focus on it in class with everything going on. Frank had yelled, grabbing him by his almost all white hair and snarling in his face like a wild animal while Mary stood off to the side with her arms crossed. She looked angry, clutching the paper with a white knuckled grip. Frank let go of his head, raising one arm and getting ready to strike.

And Tommy moved. He saw it come down in slow motion, a carefully practiced arc coming straight for his head. He didn’t want it to hit him, didn’t want to have to lie about the bruise on his face to teachers who actually didn’t care that much. It was taking forever to get to him, so he turned on his heel and ran.

They found him later that night, huddled under his bed and shaking with sobs. Though, he did notice that his legs no longer itched.

He could hear Mary grab her car keys, saying she needed to go on a drive. And he could also hear Frank, hissed like a poison, “A fucking mutie.