homeless tom


Homeless edits. pictures not mine I just played with them.

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Homeless edits 

Pictures not mine i just played with them.

@angryschnauzer @anovinebo @vampirewithbedsidemanners @the-haven-of-fiction @clojury @eve1978 @booksandcatslover @clojury @peskipixi @ladywyldfire @snugglyhiddles @heathermc13 @tomforachange @mrshiddelston @damageditem @oeffsee @ancientfinnishgoddess @itsnerdgirl6044 @servent-alearika @ourladybinxthings @prplprincez @quoting-shakespeare-to-ducks @antyc67 @aggro-femme @siyoteodiara @feelmyroarrrr @tinaferraldo @hisfireandblood  @lolawashere @fellowhiddlestoner @jdmookami @munchkin80

Odd Jobs

(Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Epilogue)

Walking out of the coffee shop, large Peppermint Mocha coffee in hand, you see a man leaning up against the light pole, a sign that says “Will work for food” written in very legible handwriting on a piece of cardboard

Approaching the stranger, you bend down and ask, “Hello, my name is Y/N. What is your name?”

“Tom,” the homeless man answers, his icy blue eyes catching you off guard.

“Hello, Tom, it’s very nice to meet you,” you say as you reach out your hand for him to shake, noting his particularly strong grip on your hand.

“Do you have any spare change?” Tom asks.

“I have something better.  Is your sign true to its word?”

Watching his eyes light up, he says, “Yes, it is! I can do yard work, fix-it work, car work, and I even have a creative side.”

You chuckle as a smile breaks out across your cheeks. “Wonderful.  Come to this address tomorrow at 9 am and ask for Sherry.  She will clean you up and tell you where to find me.”

Tom’s gaze follows you as you walk away, and as he furrows his brow, he looks down at the piece of paper in his hands, wondering what he has gotten himself in to.


“Hello, I was told to ask for Sherry,” a disheveled Tom asks the lady at the front desk.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, hun!” Sherry says delightfully.  “Lemme guess, you met Y/N?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh yeah, she’s a big do-gooder around here.  More money than God Himself.  Takes in a homeless person every couple of months.  Cleans ‘em up, employs ‘em around her estate, gives ‘em a good job reference.  I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her.  People ‘round here talk a lot.”

Smiling at her peppy attitude, Tom sits down and feels the hair fall off of his head and away from his face. Sherry’s voice quickly falls into the background as he walks thru yesterday’s events in his head.

“All right, hun, lets have a peek.”  Sherry turns Tom towards the mirror, and as Tom squints at his chiseled cheeks and set jaw, Sherry slips your address into his hand.

“Be good to her, and she’ll treat ya right.  Do her wrong, and she’ll kick ya out.”

Tom thanked Sherry and promised to come back with a tip once he got paid, and as he walked out of the parlor he was so excited to get to your house that he didn’t even hear Sherry’s objections.


Tom stood at the bottom of a rising set of stairs up to a beautiful home.  As he double-checks the house number, you come out onto the porch.

“Well, hello, To-” you say cheerfully before your greeting drops off.  You remembered his striking eyes, but you didn’t know he had such…striking features as well.

Tom bounds up the stairs and holds out his hand.  “Hello, Y/N.  You have a beautiful home.”

“Th-thank you,” you manage to get out.  After the world comes back into focus, you ask, “You said you could do yard work?”

“Yes, I most certainly can,” Tom responds.

“Wonderful.  I have a garden and various flowers planted out back, and weeds are starting to overtake the beautiful things.  I was wondering if you could dig them up and then spray some weed repellent on the affected areas?”

Tom nods his head and meanders his way out back while you head into the kitchen to make up some snacks and lemonade for a little later.  Finishing up the last of your preparation, Tom comes in shirtless and asks where you’ve stored your weed repellent.

And stopping you in your tracks, his torso takes you by surprise as you realize that Tom’s grip is not the only thing strong on his body.

Trigger warning: homelessness, orphanhood

Imagine Loki finding you on the streets of New York, and offers you to stay with him. When you’re in his apartment with a cup of tea in you hand, he asks you how you ended up homeless. You tell him that your parents were killed when you were fourteen. He then asks how your parents died, and when you tell him that they died during his attack on New York, he takes your hand and starts saying sorry over and over again.

Forgive Me

TITLE: Forgive Me


AUTHOR: BarricadeChap

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki finding you on the streets of New York, and offers you to stay with him. When you’re in his apartment with a cup of tea in you hand, he asks you how you ended up homeless. You tell him that..

RATING: General

NOTES/WARNINGS: This is my first fic submitted here please be kind to me. Feedback on my blog is very welcome. Just angsty and Loki talks slightly more casual in this too. I changed her age slightly if that’s okay and my knowledge of New York is little as I’m from Wales :D

It was a cold, winter day in New York City. There was snow on the ground and mist in the air. Loki walked along the streets deep in thought, green scarf around his neck with matching gloves and hat, a black coat, black boots and black trousers. Wondering how he got to where he is and what the hell went wrong. He growled to himself when he thought of Odin and of that fateful day in New York that was the result of his actions. He didn’t blame the All-father for banishing him but that didn’t make him hate Odin any less. He thought of his dear mother whom he missed with all his heart. He shook his head to try and rid his thoughts.

Don’t cry. You’ll look a fool in front of these mortals.

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