#the only way to be a parent innit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

Talk. || baby daddy!Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 2.2K~ Pairing: dad!gaz x mother!reader CW: canon-typical violence, events of MW2019 (references), CHILD DEATH (mentioned), pregnancy, underage!! pregnancy, some cultural/religious judgements regarding underage/out-of-wedlock pregnancy, birth (references). Tags: you/your pronouns, (reader implied female because 'mum', 'mama' and other nicknames are used + mentions of pregnant!user), hurt/comfort, fluff?, military inaccuracies I'm sure. Summary: Gaz and the reader are co-parents of a 10-year-old girl (the result of a teen pregnancy). Gaz calls home to talk to his family and he's having a bit of a breakdown after a mission. a/n: This happens in the MW2019 game timeline, somewhere after the Butcher's interrogation. NOT PROOFREAD, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN.

“SIMISOLA RUBY GARRICK, I WILL NOT CALL YOU AGAIN, GET DOWN HERE!” You shout at the top of your lungs, your voice reverberating all the way to the upper floor of your small townhouse.

“IN A MINUTE!” The girl’s voice calls out from upstairs for the… umpteenth time in the last 10 minutes.

“I swear, Kyle, this girl will be the death of me one of these days.” You tell him. “I’m not well-equipped to deal with a teenager.” You grumble as you look at Kyle’s face on the phone screen.

“She’s not a teen yet, lovie.” He retorts with a little smile. “She’s only 10.” He reminds you.

“She’s teenager enough for my taste. Bloody ignoring me whenever I call her!” You reply with a bit of a huff.

“She’s gettin’ older.” He says simply. “You tellin’ me you obeyed your mum every day at her age?” He asks.

“No, but…” You trail off and sigh, dejectedly. “I hate when you make sense, you know that?” You retort, glaring right at him with your best attempt at the ‘mum stare’, but it’s not as effective through the phone.

“Sorry, mama. One of us has to.” She adds with a mischievous smirk on his full lips. He knows how much you like it when he calls you that.

“Shut it, Garrick, I don’t want to hear it.” You retort and you can hear, and see, him giggling on the other side.

From the way the area around him has gotten progressively darker as you spoke for the last 30 minutes, you can tell he’s somewhere out East, somewhere where the sun is starting to set, since in Birmingham it’s only 3 P.M. and still fully bright outside.

“How’s the OP goin’?” You ask despite knowing that he’s not allowed to say anything about it so he simply shoots you a look before raising his fingers to bring a cigarette to his lips, taking a good long drag.

“It’s goin’ fine enough.” He adds and shrugs, before looking off to the distance just off-camera. He’s… lying. You can tell from the way his eyes furrow and his scarred cheek scrunches in frustration.

Turning your head back up, you aim your eyes at the stairs. “BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL, SIMI, DAD’S ON THE PHONE FOR YOU!” You announce to what, at this point, has to be the ghosts that kidnapped your daughter because she refuses to come downstairs.

Your ears pick up on the sound of her bedroom door flying open and her feet taking her through the carpeted hall and down the steps.

You watch her coming through the vintage, little pass-through window in your kitchen. “Did’ya say dad?!” The dark-skinned girl says as she comes sliding around the corner and into the room.

“Oh, THAT lights a fire under your arse, innit? But not all those other times I told you to come down? What if I was dying, huh?” You scold her and she immediately smiles the same impish smile your baby daddy is sporting on the phone screen. He loves seeing you be maternal.

“Sorry, Mamsie.” She says while showing absolutely no regret at all in her young features. Shaking your head, you pass the phone over to Simi, whose face lights up at the sight of Kyle. “Dad!”

“Oi, kiddo!” You hear Kyle say through the phone as Simisola takes the phone with her down to the sitting room and parks herself on the sofa, talking about all sorts of things with her dad.

You watch her for a moment through the pass-through window. She’s bouncing excitedly, talking about school, her mates, her grades… It’s not often she gets to talk to Gaz, less even that she gets to see him.

Sometimes you wonder if the unpredictability of his job is going to mess her up one day. I mean, her chances of that are already high enough considering the two of you are merely 28 and have been raising her since you were still kids yourselves… But the fact he’s more gone than around in her day-to-day life is bound to mess her up too…

Maybe you should get her into some therapy, just in case.

But then again, she seems surprisingly unaffected by all of this. She’s healthy, smart, sweet… a bit of a smartass (she takes after her dad in that)... And above all else, she seems... happy.

All things considered, of all the blokes that could’ve gotten you knocked up at seventeen, Kyle Garrick was the best option… And your daughter was the best outcome possible.

Sure, you weren’t official or anything back then (nor are you now, really... though you share a bed and a home and you kiss and-), the pregnancy had been an unforeseen consequence of a tryst in the back of a car after drinking at the local pub… But looking back, you got lucky.

Either way, you were both too young, too eager, too needy, too… stupid. Neither of you thought of condoms, hoping the ‘trusty’ pull-out method would suffice.

It didn’t.

You still remember the way you had a panic attack in a toilet stall at school, you and a girlfriend skipping class to pop over to Tesco and buy a box of pregnancy tests… She took one with you, just to ease your worries… And then yours came out positive.

The fear and absolute dread you felt was paralyzing, the way you stayed holed up in the loo while your friend tried to console you and used her fuschia Motorola Razr to text your other friends to come to the toilets after class.

From there, your girlfriends texted his mates, and by the time you noticed, Kyle was elbowing his way into the bathroom, past the group of waiting students, all of them mutual friends of you both. He spotted you sitting on the dirty tile floor in the corner, eyes glued on the pregnancy test in your hand. You were ugly crying, snot all over, and hyperventilating.

Even back then, Kyle was already years ahead of any other teen you knew. He was mature and calm, collected… He sat beside you, rubbed your back, and told you it’d all be okay. You know deep down that he only held it together to calm you down but once he was alone he probably cried like a baby too.

His parents are Nigerian immigrants. In their minds, there was an order of doing things and their only son getting a girl pregnant before marriage (or before hitting maturity, really) was NOT it.

And your parents, well… They weren’t very happy about it either. Not that any parent ever is when their daughter comes home and drops the bomb that she’s expecting.

That was a bad moment for your lives… You both lived with your parents and you had to go back and forth between school and baby appointments… Kyle was by your side the whole time (or as much as he could, considering he had enlisted as soon as he hit 18) and both your parents tried their best to be supportive… But you never quite earned Mr. and Mrs. Garrick’s affection. Not even now, 10 years later.

At first, they didn’t even want to believe the baby was Kyle’s. Your father ended up having some very heated choice words with Mr. Garrick, defending your honor, and almost bringing the house down screaming that you weren’t a slag.

You were on edge and depressed back then. Once the news spread, most of your friends stopped hanging out with you out of pressure put on by their own parents… They still smiled at you and showed encouragement to you whenever you saw each other… But they didn’t come over anymore, barely spoke to you in the halls…

People stared in the streets… Whenever you went into a baby shop or the diaper aisle at the supermarket… You were stared at. The whispers of “Look at her, such a slag”, “So young and already up the duff…” never came, at least not that you heard them, but you found yourself clutching your mum’s arm particularly hard whenever she managed to drag you out of the flat and to the shops.

You don’t like looking back on the pictures of that year in sixth form. As much as you love your child, seeing the way your face became hollow and sad, your eyes weighed down by dark circles as your belly grew consistently until nothing you wore fit you right… It still stung.

You wonder how you managed to retain enough mental faculties to not earn yourself a post-partum depression diagnosis. Whatever your brain did, it did it well...

With her skin all wrinkly and red and screaming at the top of her lungs, her little fists shaking, eyes all glossy, and a little clump of dark hair on her head slicked back by the amniotic fluid… You fell in love with Simi the moment the nurses set her against your bare chest.

And Kyle did too. You could see it in the way his eyes softened, his lip trembled and his nose and chin scrunched up to contain a wail. As soon as he held her in his arms for the first time, so small against his chest, her little body wrapped in a blanket against his fatigues... you started openly weeping at the sight, blaming the hormones, but the fact of the matter was that she was so small, so tender, so… perfect.

You tune out most of your daughter’s conversation with her father as you go about preparing dinner for the two of you, moving about the kitchen, lost in your own thoughts.

Your ears perk up when you hear Kyle ask Simi if she can pass the phone back to you and let the two of you have a conversation. The girl complains a bit about how much she misses him but ends up acquiescing to him. Daddy’s girl, she is.

She rushes over, her mini twists bouncing with each step as she drops the phone onto your hand and then waves an exaggerated “See you soon, dad!”. You watch her bounce away and trot back up the stairs before you look down at the phone.

Putting on your earpods, you set the phone down on the counter, propped up by the flour container so you can still be in frame as you go about breading some thin chicken cutlets.

“What is it, Kyle?” You ask him softly and raise your brows at him. His face is a lot more grim and he lights a second cigarette.

“We lost a kid.” He replies softly. “A little boy in Urzikstan.” He adds and sighs loudly. Your whole face twists lightly into sadness. “Some… fuckin’ plonker of a terrorist…” He trails off.

“Did you kill him?” You ask him and he nods his head solemnly. You’ve learned long ago not to give your input too much on these topics… He’s chosen to keep you and your daughter away from it all…

He once mentioned that asking to be let in would be like 'dipping your pinkie toe in a pond, never knowing if something would be reaching up to pull you in'. You swore he got that quote from a John Wick movie, and then you both laughed… But you knew he meant the sentiment of it.

“I had to stoop down to his level first.” He tells you as he takes another drag os his new cigarette. “Threatened his wife… his son… to get him to talk.” He trails off and sucks in a sharp breath.

Even with the progressive darkness that has set in now, wherever he is, you can still spot the way his nose scrunches as he tries to hold in his crying… His voice is still steady, but his eyes… Always so expressive… You’ve learned to read them in 10 years of co-parenting.

“Every time that bloody barrel even went slightly near that kid’s face I-” Kyle trembles out a breath and rolls his shoulders. Then, he goes quite.

“Anyways…” He says, trying to deflect his feelings away from the things he’s had to do. “I… I miss Simi… And I miss you.” He adds.

“We miss you too, Kyle.” You reply, trying your best to be positive for him. He needs it. “She can’t stop talking about you, counting down the days ‘till you walk through that door and come wrap her in one of those alledgedly ‘annoying’ bear hugs of yours.” You quip and a genuine smirk forms on his lips.

He nods and you notice him through away his cigarette and move somewhere else. As he walks you notice the space is brighter, the camera is facing upwards, and you can see the ceiling and ceiling lights… But above all else, you see his handsome face, the light wisp of a mustache and a goatee, the scar on his left cheek, his tired eyes, and disheveled hair.

He crosses a threshold into another darkened space, but this one is much quieter. You hear some shuffling sounds and even though now you really can’t see shit, you know he’s there, staring at you… And you know he’s lying down.

“Lovie… Can I ask you a favour?” He says as he sighs deeply and slowly.

“Yeah, what is it?” You end up saying as you set aside the breaded cutlets and wash your hands.

“Tell me everything I’m missing. Tell me everything that Simisola did and said… Tell me about your day… about work… share all the gossip you’ve got…” He requests.

“Just… Just talk my bloody ear off.” He pleads. “I just need to hear your voice.” He adds, his tone a lot more gentler. “Please…”.

#ikea writes 💚#kyle gaz garrick #gaz deserves respect #baby daddy!gaz #father!gaz #fatherhood #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #teenage pregnancy

213 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

Note

Hi hun, would you be in the mood to write something about dadrry dealing with his kids terrible twos pls

The Terrible Two’s.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - something about lhh being a dad does something to me i simply cannot describe so enjoy my loves…!

word count - 1.4k

in which, travelling with your husband around europe hasn’t been the most smooth sailing, especially when your daughters currently experiencing her terrible twos.

Faith Anne Styles.

After dating your boyfriend Harry for just over a year, you fell pregnant at the lovely age of nineteen and now both of you are at the age of twenty one and had a beautiful baby girl.

The perfect mix of both of you.

But life wasn’t all that swell.

As you stand backstage at the One Direction concert in Oslo, Denmark ,the pulsating excitement of the crowd seeping through the walls from the support act McBusted.

You watched as your boyfriend, the charismatic Harry Styles, attempts to navigate the treacherous waters of your two-year-old daughter Faith's terrible twos.

It seems that tonight, the tantrum monster has reared its head, threatening to disrupt the carefully choreographed chaos of the concert.

Great timing there, Faith Baby.

You glance around and notice Niall, Louis, and Liam, all observing the situation with wide eyes and amused expressions.

Harry, ever the doting father, crouches down to Faith's level, his brows furrowing in concern.

"Hey, baby love," Harry cooed gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of the chaos. "What's got you feeling so gloom and doom, eh?"

Faith's tiny face contorts, her little fists clenched tightly as she lets out a shrill cry. The sound reverberates through the backstage area, drawing amused glances from the rest of the band.

Louis, unable to resist a cheeky remark, leans over to Liam and whispers, "I think little Faith here is giving Harry a taste of his own teenage rebellion. Karma's a funny thing, innit?"

You never knew Harry in his pre teen years, however from the stories that you had been told by his family and fellow bandmates, he was a bit of a cheeky chappy.

And you couldn’t help but think that Faith, at just two years old, had developed some of his cheeky persona.

Before going down for naps, she would negotiate about how she wasn’t tired and then proceed to jump out of her crib, running through the house the same way that Harry would.

If you ever went to the shops or the park, then you would often catch her talking to random strangers as she held onto your hand or sat in her stroller, waving at them and being the kind girl she is and due to her father most likely doing the exact same thing.

You knew your two year old shouldn’t be interacting with strangers but she was just simply too adorable.

Liam chuckles and nods in agreement, but their attention is quickly pulled back to the unfolding drama.

Harry tries a different approach, his voice filled with patience and understanding. "Faith, darling, let's try to use our words, yeah? What's making you so upset?"

But Faith's wails persist, growing louder and more intense with each passing moment. She falls to the floor, kicking and flailing her arms, her cries echoing through the backstage area.

You watched as Harry ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, you could see slight stress lines appearing on his forehead.

He took it exceptionally hard when Faith would be upset, no parent liked to see their child sad but Harry absolutely hated it. He would always sit with her until she felt up for talking and although she was only a two year old and could hardly form a coherent sentence he would nod his head and listen to every word she said.

Faith idolised him.

Niall chuckles, watching the spectacle unfold. "Well, she's certainly giving us a show, isn't she? The drama of the terrible twos."

Tell you about it.

Harry shoots Niall a slight glare, finding absolutely nothing about the situation taking place funny in the slightest,before refocusing his attention on Faith.

He kneels down beside her, speaking softly amidst the cacophony. “Hey, my love, I know it's frustrating. Let's take some deep breaths together, okay? In and out."

But Faith's tantrum continues to escalate. She starts throwing toys and objects around, her frustration seemingly endless. The backstage area is filled with the commotion, drawing curious glances from the crew members and dancers nearby.

One thing you hated was gaining unnecessary attention.

Louis leans closer to Liam, a mixture of amusement and awe on his face. "I never thought I'd say this, but Faith might just give us a run for our money in the energy department."

Liam chuckles, nodding in agreement. "That she does. But Harry's got this. He's a patient one, that lad."

Harry tries different tactics, attempting to distract Faith with a toy or a silly face. But her cries persist, and the tantrum shows no signs of abating.

The band members exchange glances, a mixture of amusement, sympathy, and mild concern. This is uncharted territory for them, witnessing Harry deal with the full force of a toddler tantrum.

Harry's voice remains calm, though a hint of exhaustion seeps in. "Faith, sweetheart, I understand you're upset. Can you tell daddy what's wrong?"

But Faith's words are muffled amidst the tears and screams, her frustration rendering her temporarily speechless.

She continues to lash out, her tiny body wracked with sobs.

You step closer, offering your support. "Harry, maybe it's best if we take a break. Find a quiet spot for her to calm down."

Harry nods, his eyes filled with determination. "You're right, love. Let's find a quiet room where she can settle."

Together, a crew member leads you as well as Harry and Faith away from the backstage chaos, seeking Together, you lead Harry and Faith away from the backstage chaos, seeking refuge in a nearby dressing room.

The familiar scent of hairspray and the faint echoes of music provide a contrast to the storm of emotions still raging within Faith.

Gently closing the door behind you, you find a comfortable corner where Harry can sit with Faith in his arms. The room is dimly lit, allowing a sense of tranquillity to settle in.

Harry cradles Faith, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Shh, my love. We're here in our little haven. Take your time, sweetheart. We'll wait until you're ready to talk."

And if it was up to both you and Harry, you would both wait an eternity.

Faith's cries gradually subside into sniffles, her breath hitching as she tries to regain control, gripping a strand of her fathers long curls whilst the other grips onto the hem of his shirt.

Harry's soothing presence provides an anchor in the midst of her emotional tempest.

You sit beside them, offering a comforting smile. "It's okay, Faith. Mommy and Daddy are here for you. We love you, no matter what."

Faith looks up at you, her tear-stained cheeks glistening in the soft light. Her eyes search yours, seeking solace and understanding. You gently stroke her hair, allowing the silence to envelop the room, giving Faith the space she needs to collect herself.

Minutes pass, and the tension begins to dissipate. Faith's breathing steadies, her tiny frame relaxing against Harry's chest.

The storm of her tantrum has run its course, leaving behind a weary calm.

Harry speaks softly, his voice a comforting lullaby. "Sometimes, my love, we get overwhelmed. It's okay to feel angry or frustrated. But remember, we're always here to help you through it."

Faith nuzzles closer to Harry, finding comfort in his words. She wraps her tiny arms around his neck, seeking solace in his embrace.

The best father daughter duo.

The door creaks open, and Niall peeks inside, his eyes filled with concern. "Is everything alright?"

You nod, a sense of relief washing over you. "Yes, No, Faith just needed some quiet time. She's calming down now."

There was no doubt that Niall was Faith’s favourite uncle when it came to the four boys.

Niall steps into the room, his face softening as he gazes at the scene before him. "You're doing a great job, you guys. Parenting isn't easy, especially in the midst of all this craziness."

Harry smiles, gratitude and weariness mingling in his eyes. "Thanks, Niall. It's a learning process for all of us. But moments like these remind us why it's all worth it."

The sound of music drifts through the door, a reminder of the support act performing still in full swing. The energy of the crowd and the rhythm of the songs pulse through the walls, but in this small sanctuary, you find a moment of calm amidst the storm.

As Faith's breathing evens out and her grip on Harry loosens, you lean in and plant a tender kiss on her forehead. "We love you, Faith. And we're here for you, always."

Always and forever.

For eternity.

588 notes · View notes

vhstown · 4 months

Text

hobie brown ★ general headcanons

content/warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of violence, implied abandonment (?), depictions of fictional dystopian govt + police

a/n: it's about time innit 😭😭😭 a couple little thoughts about the guy that has taken over my brain for the past 6 months give it up for spider punk ‼️ very much inspired by @qiupachups's hcs go check em out here

Hobie tends to code-switch a lot depending on who he's around. At the Spider-society, he tones his accent down so people can understand him, but speaks in his natural accent around the mandem & people he likes (e.g. Miles 😁) He's the menace EVER though so he dials the Cockney up to 100 when he's fighting cops outside of the East End because they don't understand it 💀

Even though his handwriting is... atrocious, it's actually because he's picked up the style of ransom notes. In his universe, any sort of communication can be intercepted, so it's better that he can't be identified by his handwriting. That's why it's always changing, and he's half-decent at forgery too.

Speaking of writing, he can do a bunch of pen tricks. It's almost annoying how good he is at it, and if you were to ask him how, he'd just shrug. He's just that guy, you know?

His universe's Aunt May is a lovely lady from the West Indies and she runs F.E.A.S.T in Camden. They're not actually related, but he'll always see her as his aunt. She definitely helped him out after a rough patch in his life, and he volunteers often at the shelter. Everyone there has just accepted the 7ft punk walking around a couple days a week giving out breakfast and coffee.

Hobie is also bizarrely resourceful. He has a LOT of plants in his boat, and some of them grow vegetables! He knows all about gardening and makes the best preserves and soups. It's a good time to be at F.E.A.S.T when Hobie comes in with his little cloth bag full of veggie goodness.

About the rest of his family, Hobie's parents... He doesn't even know who they are himself, to be honest — not like he wants to. However, he does have siblings and a few close cousins. They're all separated, but Hobie does his best to find them. He's the oldest of them all (so far, at least?) and though they don't see him much like a brother at first, he makes sure they're taken care of, regardless of how much younger they are than him. They're always running around F.E.A.S.T, so on the days where Hobie isn't there, he can be sure that Aunt May has a few little helpers (though they're quickly growing taller than her...)

Good with animals. Even the ones that seem a bit rabid warm up to him after a little while. He knows when to leave them alone, when to give them attention, what to feed them, etc. That's why it's not unusual to see them following him around, and a bunch of kittens at his feet eating while he eats his own lunch.

Not actually a big drinker. I like to think he only has a couple of drinks or is just an insane heavyweight because there's no way he's gonna be dismantling the dictatorship if he's piss drunk. There's been a couple times where he's knackered after a night out, though. Just another reason to hate mornings, it looks like.

Most of the stickers on his guitar are from different shows and rallies he's been to, and/or organised, but only a few out of the hundreds he's been to (there's only so much space on a guitar, after all.) It's almost like a little look through his life since he joined the punk scene. Besides, who wouldn't want to beat your local government-made villain over the head with a picture of a cartoon dog?

Absolutely, utterly, undeniably terrible at singing — or is he? Not exactly. He can hum just fine, so singing should be a piece of cake, right? He's alright at a few songs, but "happy birthday" isn't exactly something you'd be performing at the Royal Opera House (he does anyway, but that's a story for another day. Fisk's 56th birthday goes just swimmingly with Spider-Punk on the front of the news.)

Despite that, he's not particularly fond of being known as "Spider-Punk". His Spider identity isn't really meant to be identified, despite how loud his whole get-up is. He's got a lot of people depending on him, and he's careful to never leave a trace of his real identity. That also means, however, that pretty much every punk in the area has a target on their back — let's just say Hobie's got a little "BEATING UP BLUE BOTTLES 101" on a Saturday morning for all his punk friends.

Since the government's got little recording devices and cameras everywhere, Hobie's taken it upon himself to... "borrow" them. He's got a couple mates good with tech, so he's on the scene pretty fast with his own crime-tracking network — pretty sick.

In fact, Hobie's friends (in his universe and others) are pretty useful for more than a few things. For pretty much every situation, he "knows a guy", whether that's related to tech, music, clothing, art, putting together a bunch of random stolen parts to make a dimension watch...

iN CAse

it dON'T

WoRK ouT

— HoBie

🎸💫🕸️

@phoenixinthefiles (since i alr tagged chewy lol)

hey hey hi these r a bit shorter than usual but i just wanted to put these little thoughts out there ^^ might make a part 2 if i have any more thoughts idk we'll see!

rbs super appreciated have a good day and check out my atsv masterlist here!

#hobie brown #hobart brown #spider punk #hobie brown headcanons #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv headcanons #vhstown

225 notes · View notes

vide0-nasties · 10 months

Text

Going to be rambling insanely about Ghost and probably what his feelings on the monarchy would be, coming from one deeply damaged povo to another.

Anyway, specifically around the time the parasite in chief in her idiot hat (thanks Eccleston lub u) died and passed said idiot hat on, I was seeing a lot of (fun and gentle-ribbing, mind you!) posts about Ghost getting razzed about the queen croaking and maybe him being sad about it or something - I don’t really remember bc I have shit for brains and I just latch onto what bits my adhd will allow.

SO. I really don’t think Bruv Innit gave two shits about Liz buying the farm, bc he grew up working class in a working class town to a drug addicted, drug peddling dad, and a fairly nondescript mom who likely didn’t have a way to get her and her kids out of that shit situation (per ‘09 MW lore and some presumption). I imagine dude was dragged around a shitload of council estates and his dad’s friends’ shitty crash pads, no stability whatsoever, where food insecurity was a big ass forever-looming deal, mom had no idea if her 20 year old vauxhall was going to make it another trip to her minimum wage part time job, and school was forever on the back burner bc when it came to school supplies/trips vs eating and keeping the lights on. You can guess which one won.

If we’re also going with him being about 35-40ish, he would’ve been 10-12ish or so around Diana’s divorce and then her death. So, here’s this starving, horrendously abused kid, with his starving, horrendously abused mother and little brother, drowning in a system that is pretty much just letting them sink to the bottom, nothing is being done about the evil sperm donor that ruins everything for them, and he’s obliterated constantly by TV coverage and tabloids and radio DJs talking about this goddamned family’s stupid fucking drama. Charles cheated, Diana left, her poor boys in their fancy private schools with their endless wealth and glowing skin and brand new clothes that don’t stink of consignment shops are sad.

Sorrows - sorrows, prayers. 🫶

It’s a story he’s seen countless times, the only difference is money and coverage. And, realistically, the women in the stories he knows aren’t killed in car wrecks, they’re killed by their infuriated husbands who think they’re owed something catching up. Maybe that’s why his mom doesn’t leave the cocksucker that trapped her, she could’ve ended up another council house Diana that no one gave a shit about.

He grows up, becomes a butcher’s apprentice, joins the army. Straightens his brother out, makes sure his mom is set up nice, finally beats the shit out of his dad. And all the while, there looms the most fucking pointless, parasitic family in England: living off taxes taken from the public, god knows how much land and how many castles, even owning all the fucking swans on the island.

Relics, vampires, leeches.

But, you know, twenty years down the road, he’s pushing 40, his services to the country are done in the dark, the family he tried so badly to save were brutally cut down anyway, and when he goes to Tesco, the price of a fifth of piss Smirnoff is insane, and he’s still got Soap swimming in his head mid-rant bc his mam’s fucking knee replacement appeal has been denied for the third time and she can’t even walk anymore, Gaz is moving for the second time in a year bc he just can’t afford to live close to his parents even on his salary, meanwhile there was a stretch where it looked like Philip was surviving solely by being pumped full of virgin blood and straight stem cells.

So, yeah, if anything he probably said cheers when the news broke and cracked a couple extra jokes that day.

“What d’you call one dead Windsor? A good start.”

Edit: This is picking up some traction. @50cal-fullauto-astarion is my CoD blog if you like my Call of Bullshit stuff, this is my main and I don’t really go into CoD here

#simon ghost riley #modern warfare ii #ghost cod #call of duty #mw2 #ghost #I’m mentally ill and I love that he is also mentally ill and probably looks at the monarchy with disgust #if he can vote depending on whether he’s legally dead or not he voted no on brexit #some rando at base is like ‘how can you make a joke like that think about the children they lost their nan’#and he just goes ‘I’ll hunt those little shits for sport’

312 notes · View notes

urlocallesbiabs-reblog-sideblog · 11 months

Text

it's interesting how comedy shows will have early-series horrible characters blame all their horribleness on some stupid thing, thus appearing shallow and blame-shifting, and then later series come out and it turns out that actually the character was right and that thing did fuck them up in the most serious and life-affecting way, it's just that they didn't know how to talk around their trauma and it came out all jumbled, and no one around them took any looks further because hey, who wants to mess with a messed up person?

like, rimmer's entire deal of "my high-class parents weren't high class Enough and didn't send me to the academy and that's what stopped me from success i so rightfully deserve" is just his best, albeit terribly distorted, way of saying that throughout his entire childhood he was unloved, uncared for, repeatedly demeaned and lowered and abused and physically tortured by his very own closest family, and that left him terminally uncapable of processing emotions or failures or human relationships in a normal way.

or eleanor shellstrop from "the good place" (warning for spoilers ahead): there was a bit in season 1 whe she still thought this was the good place and had an awkward dinner with a demon and "the real" "eleanor", where that girl told her the long-winded story of how she went through every earthly suffering imaginable and still came out kind and righteous, so that prompted the demon to ask just what could've happened to our eleanor to render her so callous and egoistic and a terrible person, and all what she had to say was that her parents got divorced, which sounded like the worst most pathetic excuse ever heard.

well so. later it turned out that it Was her parents who fucked her up. but not only the divorce - it was the neglect, the utter lack of care and love, the honest to god mental and physical abuse through them ignoring the needs of a literal small child; it all ran so fucking deep, it genuinely harmed her. but she was unable of articulating any of that, because she had to convince herself that her childhood was normal in order to carry on. she gave them her best, working, lacking-any-self-empathy version of events, and no one asked her further. some people are just bad because they're bad and making up excuses to hide it, so what of it?

if you're not a perfect victim, if you're ugly and struggling and hurting (yourself and others), if you can't articulate your trauma in a logically consistent, easily processable, emotionally touching way, no one's gonna listen to you. but also no one owes you any listening when you're being a difficult, horrible person, causing problems for everyone. who's to say that the people who hurt you weren't imperfect victims, hurting themselves and others?

there's no coherent moral to this post, tbh. life's just unfair, innit? and comedy shows have a good way of portraying that.

#vikarambles #red dwarf #media analysis

346 notes · View notes

im-notbean · 8 months

Text

Headcannons of; Quackity x Greek! Male! Reader

On god bro. I just really want somebody who speaks Greek on the QSMP. So in orderto cure this fantasy of mine I have now created this, sorry if you dont like the fact that Y/N is greek but I had to do it. Sooner or later okay-

⚠︎ Warning ⚠︎

Swearing

Some cultural things you might not understand

Might not be accurate to the cannon QSMP

This post has both Q!Quackity and CC!Quackity

Grammar mistakes

Characters might be a bit off to you

Mentions of Homophobia

Author kinda pools info about greek food-

If anything bothers you from above please, don't read!

CC!Quackity

・Your accent>>>>>>

・I'm sorry but he just loves it, especially when you pronounce certain words.

・Like saying yogurt and bread shit like that you know?

・If you say Alex in greek he gets scared- (Άλεξ [Álex] might not be accurate lol)

・Praise. Him. In. Greek.

・He get's so mad if you don't, goes full on Mexican on your ass-

・Quackity definitely respects your boundaries, so he'd ok with you not wanting to be public about your guy's relationship

・Especially with Twitter and shit (I refuse to call Twitter "X")

・Makes the funniest jokes and yall know those corny ass pick up lines

・Like "I wish you were my Xbox, cause I wanna play you all~~ night ♡"

・He definitely does those daily

・He can't cook for shit, so you have banned him from the kitchen

・It's always akward explaning that to your parents...

・Quackity loves it when you cook for him

・Especially Greek deserts (I'm just gonna fanboy over greek food for a hot minutes)

・Like tiramisu or like those almond cookies

・OR FUCKING BAKLAVA

・OR EVEN LOUKOUMADES

・Incase you don't know what I'm fanboying over, Tiramisu is an Italian dish so I'm not gonna go over it in much detail

・Basically a layered desert with espresso innit

・Baklava is one of the MOST iconic Greek deserts, it's layered with phyllo pastery, melted butter, and nuts!

・The most common are pistachios and walnuts by the way and theirs a layer of cinnamon-orange syrup pored over it once it is baked!

・Loukoumades are the Greek version of fried dough, their normally topped with honey, cinnamon, and walnuts.

・Anyway...

・He loves then sm

・If yall decide to make your relationship public, he wants you to decide how to do it.

・I personally believe you take over his stream one day as his "Special Guest"

・A cooking stream because y'know- it's iconic

・Your baking a classic greek disk.

・Gyro (Pronouced Yee-ro by the way)

・Basically Gyro is a dish that is a mix of lamb and beef (sometimes chicken too) that is made to fill pita bread.

・The sauce that is paired with is called tzatziki (it's really fucking good.) it normally has tomatos and onions and paied with greek fries.

・So your cooking the meat and stuff and Quackity just comes up behind you and you turn around right cause you know he's their

・So quickly, you bend down and kiss him.

・A little smooch before you kick him out th kitchen-

Q!Quackity

・You guys met on the train to the island.

・He tried talking to you but he seriously could not understand you, it wasas if you were speaking another language.

・When the government had paired people up, you didn't get a partner :(

・You also didn't really want an egg either, but you didn't mind babysitting them!

・Phil is so greatful for this-

・Quackity had heard about your egg sitting and decided to leave Tillin (I think i butchered this ngl) in your care

・Tillin loved you, she also liked the fact that she could understand you and offered as a translator.

・When Quackity came back he was surprised to see his own child translating what you were saying

・Once the new members joined you were assined partners with Tubbo (I am not sure if the new members have assigned parners ngl so...also are we getting new members today?)

・(Not even joking- ANYWAY LMAO)

・So y'know how Tubbo can get info out of Curchuro (prob butchered that again lol)

・You can do it also, sence your the only person on the server who can speak greek and not English he thinks the info he tells you is safe.

・You get Tillin to translate to Tubbo about what Curchuro tells you >:D

・Quackity learns about this and then he realized what the fuck is happening

・The he realized one day, you were gone.

・Along with the eggs.

・He never realized how much he liked you until you left...

・Quackity tried looking for you and the eggs

・But he never got far

・Tubbo also tried to help look for you, to no avail

・Not gonna lie, you and Phil got locked in a cage togther 😂

#im-notbean #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp quackity #quackity #qsmp #qsmpblr #qsmp headcanons #qsmp quackity #quackity x reader #x reader #y/n #x male reader #male reader #quackity x male reader #quackity headcannons #q!quackity #quackity x you #quackity x y/n

108 notes · View notes

kelloggsenthusiast · 6 months

Note

please could you do a carlos alcaraz smut where he brings you to meet his parents and you have a good evening and after he rewards you with sex?

Permanent fixture

Post Cincinnati masters innit

cw: Trash Spanish translations (thank you Duolingo), smut, breeding kink, p in v, hella teasing, dirty talk (it's Carlos alca-rizz pls). Minors dni.

You had met Carlos' family before. That in itself wasn't new. The difference was that tonight you had gone to dinner with all of them, whereas you had only properly interacted with his mum or younger brothers during the time you used to play tennis yourself.

The dinner had gone objectively well, with your boyfriend holding you hand under the table every time he sensed that you were even slightly uncomfortable. That little gesture made your heart melt for him more.

By the end of the night, you were feeling more comfortable seated between Carlos and his older brother, chatting animatedly with his family comfortably.

Back at your hotel, as he watched you brush your hair and get ready for bed, Your boyfriend couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to make you a permanent part of his family. He thought about getting a beach house with you in the south of Spain, with some beach in your backyard. He thought of a dog or three that you would pick. Most importantly, he thought about you being pregnant, your tummy round with his children and him taking care of you.

"a penny for your thoughts, guapo?" she you ask as you turn in your seat to look at him.

"ven aqui," he says, tapping his lap for you to go sit, which you dont hesitate to do

you straddle him and he wraps his arms around your waist, making you comfortable in his lap.

"i was just thinking about how good you looked tonight with my family, and my younger siblings. it made me want to start one with you," he said as his hands go under the oversized Duran Duran t-shirt you were wearing. his warm touch made your stomach turn sweetly. you looked into his soft brown eyes and found sincerity in them, one that you had not been expecting to find.

"do you want me to give you children, mi amor?" he asks ans he lightly juts his hips into yours. you knew what he wanted. you had wanted it too. all night in fact

"yes, carlos," you say breathlessly

his hand comes to the back of your neck as he presses a sweet kiss to you lips. your hips begin to rub against his, making his grip on your waist tighter. you moan into his mouth as his tingue tastes you and his hands run down your body to the hem of your shirt

he reaches under your tee shirt to try and get you out of the cloth and pulls away fromthe kiss to lift it over your head. he looks at you, bereft of clothing exept for your barely covering it underwear.

his hand lifts to toy with your nipples, gently tugging and squeezing the engorged bud. you like.it so much that it makes you bdy arch towards him. his mouthr cobers your other nipple, nibbling and licking and sucking on the taunt flesh. making you hotter. making you weter. making you cry out his name.

"fuck, thats the prettiest sound ive ever heard in my life mi amor," be cooed as he played with your breasts. you began to grind against him with more fevor, making him groan against your chest

"more, please more," you whimper helplessly, desperately trying to get him where you needed him the most, and its like your prayers were answered because he immediately detached from your chest and went to kiss a spot on your neck that he knew drove you mad, all while his hamds made their way down to the hem of your thong. his fingers hooked the silky fabric and began to try and himmy it down your legs. when he realised that this was taking him nowhere, he decided to rip the fabric clean off, making you gasp

unable to hold himself back anymore, he flips the both of you overand kneels at the foot of the bed, pulling you towards him and making himself level with your glistening pussy

"carajo, muñeca. eres tan perfecta," he says before sucking on your hard nub, dragging his tongue against your bundle of nerves.

>"oh my god, carlos,"you moan out as you drag your fingers through him soft dark curls. he looks up at you as he continues his ministrations. he absolutely loved seeing you like this, all flustered and delirious. the total opposite of yourusual composed and calculated self. he loved hearing you beg and scream and moan. he especially loved that he was the onewho did that to you.

you began to grind your hips against his face, despereately searching for more friction until his hands squeezed your thighs, holding them in place. one of his hnds went between your legs to collect some of your wetness on his fingers. need to keep you wet as i can he thinks to himselfas he curls his fingers up inside of you, making your hips stutter. it was driving you mad, how close you were

"come on, bebé, you can do it," he encouraged as he thrusts hisstill curled fingers in and out of you. with a strangled cry and a shuddering body, you came all over his fingers and face. he fingered you through it, whispering to you how good you were for him and how it turned him on to see you like that, at his mercy

he pulled away to undress himself as you came down, but you still watched his every movement. it never got old to you

oncwe he was fully unclothed, he ran his fingers over your wetness, collecting some of it and using it to stroke himself. he looked so painflly hard and ready. it made you wet all over again, seeing him do that.

he ran the leaking head of his cock obver your slit, ccoating t with his warm precum. it made you let ouf the neediest , most pathetic whimper ever. god, you were so embarrased by it that you bit your lip.

"dont do that, hermosa," he chide as he leaned down to kiss you on the lips."i want to hear all the pretty sounds you make."

his words made yoyr head light, or maybe it was the head of his cock slowly entering your tight pussy. whatever it was, you were enjoying it

"ah, fuck," he groans as he grabs the sheets with his fist. you moaned as well, grabbing his biceps for purchase as he slowly bottomed out in you

"i love you," he whispers as he enters you completely. the sincerity of his voice makes tears spring into your eyes

"i love you," you respond as he begins to slowly thrust into you

his strokes were slow and gentle at first, making you get used to the stretch and intrusion, making you relax so hecould give you what you wanted. your hips began to move against his, meeting his thrusts

"tan bonita, tan preciosa, todos para mi," he groans as he picks up speed, rutting into you with purpose.

your breathing got shallower the closer he brought you to your orgasm. you felt so in love inthat moment as you stared up at him with rose tinted irises. you clech around him as you come for the second time. he continues to thrust into you, this time flicking your clit with his thum. the overstimulation makes you clench and jerk uncontrollably as you cry out his name.

"asi, mi amor, you can do it again.you can give me one more," he groans as his th rusts pick up more speed

"i- i- "you choke out. you feel him getting to you, his fingers on your clit, his thrusts against that ribbed spot inside you, his cock twitching with every thrust

"i cant," you cry out as you feel him get closer and bringing you along with him.

"you can mi amor. you can do it," he grunts. "come on, just one more. i know you can."

your breath catches as you feel your third orgasm wash over you, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. your body trembles and yoir pussy clenches, making carlos release his large hot load in you with a groan. you stare up at him as you try to regain your breath.

"i love you, he rasped as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"i love you," you respond , holding him close

#carlos alcaraz x reader #carlitos alcaraz #carlos alcaraz imagine #tennis x reader #carlos alcaraz smut

108 notes · View notes

imsobadatnicknames2 · 11 months

Text

I think I had already posted about this, but child liberation seems to be a popular topic on here lately and seeing some of those posts got me thinking about it again:

One of the most ridiculous things about ppl who argue in favor of hitting your children is that like. If one of my friends, or a coworker, or the cashier at the grocery store, or any other adult I interact with messed up in a way that affects me or inconveniencies me, or was a little bit rude to me, and I immediately responded by physically attacking them, I think everyone would agree that that's not morally okay, right? Like, most people would be like "man that's fucked up, that's assault".

But if the person who messed up or was rude to me was not another adult but instead my hypothetical child, then suddenly a lot of those same people would agree that physically attacking them would be not only morally okay, but even mandatory to do. Like a lot of those people would argue that it would be morally wrong NOT to physically punish them. Despite (or, I suspect, maybe BECAUSE OF) the fact that a child generally is less capable of physically defending themselves than an adult, attacking a child for a perceived transgression is seen as not only more morally okay than doing the same to an adult, but also even morally imperative, as long as I'm considered to have parental authority over said child.

Fucked up, innit.

87 notes · View notes

girlsdontlove · 1 year

Text

𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐬!

He was going to write back to you but he didn't know what to say. "Writing a letter are you" Bash asked "yeah....I don't know what to write her" Gilbert replied "its a girl" Bash asked "yeah she's back in Avonlea" Gilbert explained "why do you have a problem on what to write her" Bash asked "she just basically said she loved me in her letter and that she might be moving soon and I don't know what to do" Gilbert explained as he handed Bash the letter over. "Where is she moving to" Bash asked "to Charlotte town which isn't to far from Avonlea but it's still far..i'd have to take a train back and forth to see her if I wanted to" Gilbert explained "you want to see her" Bash asked "of course I do" Gilbert said as Bash handed him back the letter. "So tell her how much you like her if you do" Bash said as Gilbert took his writing utensil. Gilbert smiled as he wrote the note for you.

You had just walked in late to school, your eyes had very very light black circles under your eyes. Gilbert was worried sick but he wasn't surprised. Because the day before you two had got into an argument about something silly.

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫

-he walks up to you the minute he sees you get uncomfortable

-puts an arm around your waist and says "hey buddy so what's going on?"

-the guy ends up walking off and once he does Gilbert smirks and he kisses your cheek

Gilbert had recently told his friends that he was dating someone. "Well whoever this mystery girl is she is very lucky" Charlie said as the boys smile including Gilbert, 'She really is' Gilbert thought as he looked at you as you talked to your friends.

Gilbert was calling the wedding off for you, he had just realized that he wanted you. That he has always wanted you. "You can only know something when you know it" Gilbert told the blond haired girl. "There's another girl innit?" She asked "y-yes.....there is" Gilbert answered which only made her cry more "but it's basically unrequited love" Gilbert said trying to ease her crying, she gave him a pity laugh. "This is happening to me for unrequited love" She scoffed. N with that Gilbert ran his way to your place, he didn't care at this point if you didn't love him back. He had to tell you, he needed to tell you.

𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱

-missed you ALOT

-finds excuses to talk to you, you dropped something? He'll pick it up for you and make conversation. Your parents need help with something around the house? He'll come over and try to be near you, might make conversation.

-Bash basically made a plan on how to get you two back together

-Gilbert finds out and he thanks Bash

-you two end up getting back together but it's kind of awkward at first

Gilbert laughed softly as he talked to Bash, "you must like her" Bash said to him "eh....I mean she is lovely and her smile is just gorgeous and it's stupid how she hides it because she thinks her teeth make her look ugly but I don't....." Gilbert muttered as he realized. He liked you. He liked Y/n L/n. "You don't what" Bash asked "I like her" Gilbert mumbled as Bash made a small noise that he always made when he was right about something.

He watched as you talked to someone, "can you take the hint I'm dating someone" you said to the guy who was flirting with you "who" the guy asked, you pointed to Gilbert "oh" the guy muttered before walking off. You two just started dating and he hadn't gotten used to it. His heart fluttered at your actions, he was still trying to process that you were his and that he was yours.

The guys watched closely as Gilbert walked up to you, "with you go out with me" Gilbert asked as he smiled at you "I don't know" you muttered. All of the guys were watching you and the girls were too, you didn't want the only female friends you had to hate you because of some stupid and gorgeous, the most absolutely handsome of your school. So you said this to him, "don't tell anyone but I will but" you said strictly "but" Gilbert repeated. "It has to be a secret and I have to get to know you first" you told him making him smile but he quickly hides it "what do I say to the guys" Gilbert asked "tell them I said no" you replied.

#girlsdontlovework’s #gilbert blythe #x reader #gilbert blythe x reader #anne with an e #my giffs

197 notes · View notes

hardcandycigarette · 1 year

Text

Long Way Down Part Four

Word Count 3.5K

Okay kids, here's Part Four. In Part Five we conclude our story. I can tell you this story has two endings. I will probably post both endings but in separate posts.

This part has a little mystery, a small bit of dad!rry and some angst.

Warnings: Language and implications of death

“But I don’t want to, Dad.” Archer swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Le’ me see, Arch.” Harry lifts the boy’s foot, while he examines it.

Harry notices that Archer's foot is swollen and not moving properly, which leads him to conclude that the boy needs a doctor. "Well, lil' man, we need to go to the doctor."

Archer starts to cry.

Harry leans down to look the boy directly in the eye. “Told ya you were gonna get hurt, and here we are brother.” Harry clears his throat and lowers his son's foot. “I know you don't want to, but we have to. Auntie Gemma’s comin’ and we’re all goin’ to the doctor. Mr. Liam’s goin with us too. It's going to be okay, son," Harry says as he sets his son's foot down. "It's nothing a little bit of care won't fix." Harry smiles at Archer. "We'll get you fixed up in no time. It's gonna be alright."

Harry walks to the closet and pulls down a hoodie and some jeans. He hands the items to his son. “I need ya to get dressed, I’ll get ya sister ready, and we’ll go. Once you two are taken care of, we can finally enjoy that ice cream I promised you."

Harry exits the room and heads next door to Lola’s room. Harry sees Gemma talking to the baby in a gentle, soothing manner and he smiles, feeling a warmth in his chest. He watches as Gemma carefully dresses the baby and he notices a deep bond between them.

“Arch is gettin’ dressed. When he's ready we’ll take off. Poppy's taken care of already. She’s in there with Liam reading. Can’t get caught up with the police and looking for Y/N until I get the kids to the doctor. Won’t be able to take care of it once the police get here.”

Gemma looks up. “Told you I could take them.”

“Parents are the only people who can authorize treatment. Maybe if we consulted with our regular doctor, they would work with us, but we have to go to the after-hours clinic. Let’s just head out and do what we need to do.”

Gemma sighs and shakes her head. “Need to change that at some point.”

“I know, but today that’s how it is. Jeff and Liam have already spoken to the clinic so they're expecting us."

###

“It's like a broken record, innit? The same questions bein' brought up over and over again with no resolution. How many more times are you gonna have to ask me these questions?” Harry asks as he pushes his hair away from his forehead.

The investigator doesn't look up as he continues to write, but says, "Sir, we need to be certain we're not missing anything. Let's see, we've established she withdrew $4,000.00 from her private bank account prior to her disappearance. Does that seem like a normal amount for her?"

Harry shrugs. "Dunno. It's her private account. I have a certain amount transferred to her every month for her to spend as she wishes. I've never asked if or what she spends it on. Don't even know what she has in there. We have a household account and credit cards for anything she might need for the house or the children. Of course, it goes without saying that she can call if I’m gone and ask for anything, and she’ll have it.”

"Right, and her phone was found, as you know just a few blocks from the Baby Gym. Are you sure she doesn't have another phone?"

"No, no other phone that I know of." Harry walks around, eyes looking at the floor. "I told ya everythin'. I told ya 'bout her tattoos, her moles, her scars. Ya talked to everyone she knows. Ya spoke to m' family, m' friends, and m' work colleagues. Dunno what to say."

The investigator watches Harry’s movements, as he searches for some clue. He's done all the necessary checks – interviewing people who know her, scouring social media, bank accounts, credit cards, tracking her phone. Although, just as before, nothing about Harry suggests that he is lying or hiding a misdeed. “And there is no place you can think of where she might’ve ended up. Maybe the holiday she wanted to take?”

"No." Harry shakes his head and tugs at the corner of his bottom lip, looking up at the ceiling. “I admit, yes, she was unhappy when she left, and yes, her mood was out of character for her, but there is nowhere she would want to be without her kids."

"In relation to the trip she talked about, what do you think about it?”

A long breath escapes his lips as he looks at the ceiling. “Ya lit'rly just asked that. Ya talked to the people she was gonna go with. Ya called the hotel they were plannin’ on stayin’ at. So, with all due respect, that seems ridiculous."

“Does it?”

“Yeah, yeah it does. M’ wife is missin’ and to keep askin’ me questions ya already know the answers to is asinine.”

“We are just asking.”

Hands on hips, Harry turns to the detective. “Well, I’d ‘ppreciate ya goin’ ‘bout ya day and lookin’ fer her.”

As the detective stands, he gathers his papers, and gestures towards the door. "I think that's it for the time being, Mr. Styles. We are sorry you and your family have to go through such a delicate and challenging situation. Please be assured that we will do everything in our power to find Mrs. Styles.” He leads Harry to the door.

“Y/N. Her name is Y/N. She's much more than Mrs. Styles.” Harry opens the door and enters the hallway, The muted gray walls, the fluorescent lights, and the scuffed white floors make him feel uncomfortable somehow. He never expected hot pink walls and colored lights, but it's awful, like a hospital.

When he passes through the office his heart rate picks up a notch, and his chest tightens as he hears murmurs. Harry holds his head down to avoid additional unwanted attention. The officer takes Harry to the front door of the station. “Sir, we will find your wife. Would you like an escort to get you home?”

He shakes his head. "No." He places his sunglasses on his face. His half-dried hair tumbles over his forehead as he walks outside into the cloudy day, despite the sun trying to peek out from behind the clouds. He’s aware paps and fans are taking photos, but he continues to walk to his vehicle. The wind feels cool against his warm skin, as he looks at his phone to see if he has received a call. No missed calls. Sarah sent a text.

Sarah

How’s it going?

Harry

It’s not. Useless fucking wankers.

###

Inside a large conference room in an empty office building friends and family have gathered. This is a location no one had heard of yet, so they were using the space as a kind of headquarters to gather people and information. It was advisable to keep the paps away from the actual investigation for as long as possible. They were out to exploit Y/N's disappearance. He's already given a press conference. He has nothing else to say right now.

Harry steps into the room. Several people wander around-friends, family, colleagues.

Nick Grimshaw is near the door when Harry enters. He grabs Harry as soon as he steps in. "So sorry Harry. Just wanted you to know I’m here. We’re talking about it everywhere. We’ll find her.”

Harry holds Nick tight. “I love her so much. Can’ be without her. Where is she?”

Tears fill Nick’s eyes. He shakes his head. “Dunno, mate. We all love her and you and the kids.” He releases his hold on Harry. “I also want you to know I won’t share anything about this location or anything the investigators tell me.”

Harry wipes the tears from his own face. “I know. Give me a minute, alright?”

“Of course,” Nick replies. He hugs Harry once more before he walks away.

There are people from his security team, a detective, as well as the private investigator he’s hired.

The room buzzes and hums with activity. Maps hang from the walls, empty paper cups of cold coffee are scattered around, and crumpled napkins litter the tables. There is a sweet scent in the air, maybe that of pastries or donuts. Harry is unable to identify it. And someone's vape emits a puff of smoke.

A few feet away Harry sees Joe Alwyn walking toward him. Once Joe is in front of Harry, he shakes his hand and pats his shoulder. “We both wanted to be here, but Taylor is back in the States. Jeff said it would be okay. I know we aren't close mates, but I wanted to help. Hope I am not out of place.”

“Course not. We can use all the familiar faces, and friends that want to help.”

“Look, anything Taylor or I can do for you just say the word. She mentioned it at the show last night.”

Harry gives a half-smirk. “So that’s an extra 12 million people who know.”

“Maybe a few less than 12 million.” Joe follows Harry’s lead with a small smile of his own. Joe turns to walk away. “I’ll let you get on with it, but I’ve got the day to help in whatever way you need.”

Harry nods. “Thanks. Thank you so much. It’s really kind of you to come. Tell Taylor thank you as well.”

“I will,” he replies, then walks away.

A short, bald detective approaches Harry. "I'm glad you're back. Do you mind if I ask a few questions?" he asks.

The man opens a pad of paper to reveal a fresh sheet of pale green, lined paper. “So, is there anyone you can think of anyone at all who might know where Mrs. Styles could be?” He looks up from the pad of paper, his gaze intense as he waits for an answer.

"Didn't I just answer this question with that Reeves fella at the station? And her name is Y/N. Stop calling her Mrs. Styles, and no, you dumbass, I don’t know of anyone else!” The roar that comes from Harry’s reddened face shakes the entire room. Harry throws his arms into the air and shouts, “Stop asking me that fuckin' question! All the resources that ya have at yer disposal, all the money that ya can spend, but ya continue to ask the same God damned questions.” His hands hit his hip. "Swear to God, I'll knock yer block off if ya' ask me that again."

“C’mon, let’s go over here, my man.” Pauli steps in with a firm but friendly request.

Harry pushes Pauli away. “Get ya hands off me.” Harry's tone of voice is stern. It’s clear that he means what he says.

Pauli steps away.

Harry turns to face the room and marches into the group of people. His voice booms through the space as he says, "Every one of ya's here tryin' to help ya don't know." He charges toward a trash bin and snatches up the dirty cups and napkins, tossing them into the trash can. “Why are you treatin’ this room like none of ya ever been indoors? Throwin’ yer napkins and cups all around.” He throws the bin across the room, and it crashes into the wall, its contents spilling onto the floor. His voice echoes across the room as he roars, "None of ya have any idea," Harry shouts. He stands in the middle as everyone slowly forms a circle around him. “None of ya’ know. Ya’ don’t know what she smells like fresh outta the shower, or the way her nose crinkles when she laughs at certain jokes. Ya’ don’t know what she looked like when she gave birth to my babies, the glow on her face. Ya’ don’t know. You think ya' know Y/N, but she’s mine!" Harry drops to his knees, his deep pink face floods with tears. “Mine!” He beats his fists on the floor and sobs, unable to stop himself.

As Jeff approaches Harry, Glenne quickly follows. He wraps his arms around Harry's neck and rests his head next to Harry's. "Let's get some air, man."

"Harry, we love you sweetheart," Glenne says in a hushed tone.

Jeff and Glenne guide Harry to stand. As he clutches the couple, he is shaky on his feet. The two escort him to the door with his arms around them. Harry takes a few tentative steps out of the room, knowing he's in safe hands.

###

"Oh no dear I'm sure it's her. It's the lady in the papers," the old woman says.

The officer asks, "And when did she arrive?"

"Sunday. Early Sunday morning. I know because I left the key for her to let herself in while I was at church. I usually arrive back by 9AM, and she was here when I got back."

"Did she give you a name?"

"Yes, Laura Lash," she says.

"How did she pay you?"

As she stammers, the woman replies, "You see that's the odd thing. She contacted me and said she knew it was against Airbnb rules but could I trust her and let her pay cash and reserve the room privately offline. Said she was traveling to visit a sick relative, maybe her mother? I can't recall. Anyway, and that she had lost her credit and debit cards. She told me she just needed to decompress. The phrase "decompress" was repeated several times, so I remembered it."

"Right, ma'am. And is she still there?"

"Yes, and she has only been out of her room for the shower, and toilet, maybe the kitchen a few times. The day she arrived, she contacted the market up the street. She offered to pay extra if she could pay in cash, and the market delivered her food. Since some of it is missing from the fridge, I assume she ate it, but I haven't seen her much. I've heard her cry many times. I thought she might be upset about her mother, but I didn't pry, though I did make her a cup of tea this afternoon. She came to the door of the room, said thank you, took the tea and closed the door."

"Ma'am this might sound like a strange question, but have you noticed if she's pumping breast milk?"

"Oh no, dear I wouldn't know. As I said she's only been around me a few times, but I'm certain it's her. We've had a few brief chats, and I do mean brief, less than a minute or two each time. She always keeps her head down. She's very odd."

"And how did she arrive?"

"I'm not sure. She was here when I came back from church as I said, but I can tell you there's no car here."

"Ma'am thank you for the information. Can you give me your address?"

The woman provides her address. “Okay ma'am we are going to send an officer who will call you when they are a few minutes from you. We'll have them meet you somewhere so that if it is her, she won't be scared off."

"That's fine dear. I will be here waiting. But hurry because who knows when she might decide to just leave."

One hour later no one has arrived. As minutes pass, the woman gets more and more anxious, constantly looking at the door expecting someone to arrive. She checks her phone repeatedly in case she's somehow missed the call.

She decides to knock on the guest room door. There is no answer. She knocks again, still no answer. She announces her presence before she opens the door. Y/N appears to be asleep, but she calls her name. "Laura. Laura.” She does not wake up. She shakes her a bit while continuing to call her name. She decides to check for any signs of life, like a pulse in case Laura has fainted or has any medical condition. She also checks to see if there are any other signs of distress in the room, such something to indicate an accident. Less than a minute later she is on the line asking for an ambulance.

###

Harry looks down at his youngest child and rubs her back. "I know it's beyond her bedtime, Mum, but I just want to hold her for a while," he says to Anne.

"It's OK," Anne replies with a tender smile. "It's moments like these that you need right now."

Harry knows that these moments are fleeting, and that his daughter will grow up before he knows it. He wants to make sure he cherishes every moment he can with her while she's still so young and innocent.

"Harry, you know how they are. One day they're ill, the next they're playing like nothing's happened. She'll be alright. Wasn't as fussy today. It's Archer and Poppy you need to worry about."

As he closes his eyes and nods, he says, "I get it, but I'm not sure how else to explain it to them without scaring them." Y/N has been gone for days now. He knows she's out there somewhere, but he has no way to know if she's okay. He worries about his children, who don't understand what's going on. He's overwhelmed by the responsibility of protecting his family, and knows he has to find the right words to ensure they feel safe and loved.

Anne reaches out for Lola. "Oh, let me take her dear." Harry hesitates to give the baby over. "They don't know why the police keep coming and going," Anne says. Anne pulls the baby close to her, and sways. “I think you should call your therapist. She’ll know how to talk to them, and you need someone to talk to also. No matter what the outcome Harry, even if she walks in the door tonight, your family will need someone, a professional."

He sighs. "I know, guess I just thought I'd figure it out."

"It's OK if you don't have all the answers," she says. Anne touches his shoulder. "You're a wonderful man, but you can't do this alone."

####

"Thanks, we'll be there as soon as we can." Investigator Reeves disconnects the call. Determined to resolve this issue quickly, he calls his partner, John. He needs to get to Y/N as soon as possible. He knows the longer it takes, the more complicated the situation will become.

"John, think we found Y/N Styles. Care for a trip to Old Holland?" Reeves asks.

"Scotland?"

"Yep."

"How the fuck did she wind up in Scotland? She must have had a good reason for going there, but what could it have been?" John asks.

"Don't know, guess we'll find out."

"It must have been something really important for her to make that journey, and to put so many people under this kind of stress."

"Alright, meet you at the station."

Before they leave the station the men agree not to contact Harry or the family. They must know it's Y/N and they must know what happened before they speak to anyone. They can't rule anything out until they learn more.

288 notes · View notes

zimthandmade · 4 months

Note

Ok first, hello :D.

I don't know if it's just me interpreting it that way, but from the little you showed, L in this AU is more "human" so to speak, like at least he shows emotions, and is a bit cringey in some ways (I love that ). Will you show more of him? (I'm not demanding, I'm just asking, sorry), like, does he care about these children? Did he feel bad about Beyond's death at the hands of Kira? Is he autistic or just way too weird?

I would love love love to show more L!! The thing is I’m having trouble finding things about him and thinking of scenarios for him to act out. L is super inactive in general. I can only see him sitting there, thinking, talking, not even changing facial expression. And that’s some pretty boring stuff to draw, innit? I’m also having a hard time imagining L having some sort of everyday life that would allign with what people normally do. That makes him absolutely unrelatable. Do you guys have any headcanons or scenarios for L that would be interesting to draw without being too out of character? If you want me draw L, give me something to work with!

The way I put it so far, yes, he absolutely cares about the kids at Wammy’s. He wants to give the kind of help to them he needed when he was younger. That doesn’t mean he’s doing a good job but at least he tries. Something that always kinda bothered me with how people see the relationship between L and the Wammy’s kids is how L is often portrayed as being a cuddly dad-like figure. The way I want to portray him is that L is not and never intends to be some sort of parental figure for any of the kids and the kids don’t view him as that either. Nobody is having soft feelings for L and they for sure ain’t cuddling when they meet. The contact between the kids and L is always professional. Friendly but always with a respectful distance. Keep in mind that all of these characters probably don’t like their personal bubble invaded and have a weird relationship with physical contact. L is just “some dude that smells funny” to the kids. And L sees the kids as “hyperactive tiny adults with sticky hands”.

L probably didn’t feel remorse about Beyonds death but rather about everything that happened before. About all the things that made Beyond become what he was.

And yeah, L is 100% autistic. He kinda falls into the adorkable aspie trope, if you’re familiar with that. A bit like Sheldon from Big Bang Theory or Sherlock Holmes. Like, all of his weird traits are portrayed as quirky instead of annoying, distracting or otherwise negatively.

#death note #l #ask

28 notes · View notes

icdrawings · 8 months

Text

Corpse puppet au

By @sketchquill

Chapter 2

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Gold's pov

Aunt Nell rang the door bell as the butler opened it showing us the Pillar's. I tilted my head down because of how intimidating they looked before aunt harshly nudged me with her shoulder making me pick my head up quickly to not cause anymore fuss.

"Oh, my goodness,oh ,such grandeur such impeccable taste! Oh, beautiful, innit?"my aunt said excitedly in a fake polish accent "it's not as big as our place, dear, Mm, a little bit shabby, really, isn't it?" Uncle stated only to get wacked by aunt Nell "shut up" she said

"Why you must be Mr. Pillar, oh, yes, I must say you don't look like a day over 20" uncle William attempted to compliment him only for aunt to hit in again."smile, darling, smile"Mrs. Pillar said a bit too loud "well, hello, what a pleasure, welcome to our home" Mr. Pillar said with a crooked smile and somewhat cheerful tone, I know that we aren't welcomed here but my aunt and uncle thought otherwise "Oh-oh-oh! Thank you!" Aunt sounded pleased "we'll be taking tea in the west drawing room, oh, do come this way"Mrs. Pillar said as we followed them.

"Oh I love what you've done with the place, who is your decorator?"a sad attempt of a aunt trying to make small talk "nice tiles, shame about the drapes"uncle said "oh, my husband says such foolish things, ignore him"aunt Nell said trying to shut him up. Un announced to them I stopped walking to gaze at the grand piano they had, it looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. The more I looked at it the more I remember Coin, how he would make sure he'd play his instruments almost every day.

~ Flashback ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Age 6 at old home)

I was taking some figs for Coin in the music room since he has been playing for hours now, I didn't want him to get hungry. The music grew louder as I got closer, holding the figs I gently knocked on the door as a way of getting his attention without startling him and waited "come in" I opened the door to see Coin writing down some sheet music "hi Coin I brought you something to eat"I said holding up the figs "Figs!my favorite!oh, you shouldn't have, thanks Gold" he said excitedly as I gave him the figs before leaving "hey Gold" I turned around "why don't we share" he said patting the space next to him on the seat "okay" I said taking a seat as we each grabbed a fig and started eating. It was a comfortable silence as I looked around the music room taking notes of all the different instruments before turning behind me to look at the piano, "hey coin can I ask a question?" I said "shoot" he said "I just wanted to know, why do you play your instrument almost everyday?" I asked out if curiosity.

Coin finished his fig before placing a hand on my head "because if I don't how will I know my music would be appreciated" he said with a smile as I looked at him in utter confusion "if I don't use my instruments then why have them if not to create something that brings me joy, by the use and well care of the instruments shows the appreciation of the musician and their music" he said as he rubbed my head "that's why I play so much to show how much I thank the instruments and my talent to be who I am in every song i play" I looked at him in awe understand how much he loved being a musician " could... could you teach me a melody " I asked stunning him a bit before he chuckled rubbing my head more " sure how about the piano I got just the melody " he said as we cleaned our hand before turning to play the piano.

~ Flashback ended ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I swiped the dust off the seat before opening the covers of the piano, taping out each key to make sure each was working and surprisingly they were before starting to play that same melody Coin taught me many years ago.

🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛

Howdy's pov

I finished fixing my hair before rushing to meet with my parents only for piano music to be playing, I know for a fact that no one in this place knows how to play the piano it was only for an aesthetic choice to make my family look richer. I wanted to see who was playing. Quickly but quietly walking to see who was playing surprised me, looking down the stairs I saw that it was my soon-to-be partner Gold Treasure and I must say they look gorgeous in that dress and played beautifully. I got closer gently going down each step.

I walked behind them trying to think of a way to announce my presence when seeing them reach for a key so in excitement I pressed it but that was a bad idea because once they caught sight of me they flinched hard "o-oh do forgive me I was lost in the melody" they said trying to get up "you play beautifully" I said mentally slapping myself for scaring them "I-I do apologize, Mr. Pillar, how rude of me to... well..." They tried to continue but kept stuttering "Mother won't let me near the piano" I said giving them a break "music is improper for a young man, too passionate she says" I explained as they looked at the piano sadly "I wouldn't think so, my brother loved to play music as if it was a part of his soul even the melody I play now it was his original creation" they said getting me curious "your brother plays, that's amazing and what you were playing just now, he made it, then I must meet him, will he be there at the wedding?" I asked excitedly hoping to finally learn how to play the piano "sadly he won't be with us at the wedding" Gold said in a more quiet tone making me feel guilty for asking, thinking of a way to change the subject.

"If I may ask, M-Mr Pillar...where is your chaperone" they asked catching me off guard "perhaps in-in this view of circumstances, you could call me Howdy" I said "oh, yes, of course, well... Howdy" they sounded nervous "yes... Gold" I said in a similar nervous tone "to... tomorrow we are to be... m... m... Mm" "married" I finished their sentence. "O-oh, yes, m... m... married" they finally were able to say it, I finally decided to sit down next to them but they moved away a little which is understandable, we have only just met "since I was a child, I've always dreamed of my wedding day, I always hoped to find someone I was deeply in love with, someone to spend the rest of my life with, silly isn't it" I said rubbing the back on my next with my top right hand, top left hand tapping the seat, and my bottom hands fiddling with each other.

"Oh, no, that doesn't sound silly at all"they said surprising me as I looked at them, as they looked down at their hand "it wound be a beautiful thing, a wonderful thing" they sounded sad, I tried to comfort them by gently holding their hand as we made eye contact before they quickly looked away looking more sadden as they pulled their hand back.

"What improperly is this" we turn to see that it was my mother "you shouldn't be alone together, here it is, 1 minute before 5 and you're not at rehearsal, Pastor Galswells is waiting, come at once" she scoulded us as Gold shut the piano case and walked to follow my mother without saying another word making me quick to catch up.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Gold's pov

( 3 hours later )

"Master Treasure, from the beginning, again" the pastor said in annoyance "with this hand, I will lift your sorrows, your glass will never be empty, for u will be your wine, with this candle, I will light your way in darkness, with this ring, I ask you to be mine, let's try this again" the pastor said as I felt guilty for not being able to do it right the first couple of times "yes, yes, sir, with this candle..." I said said try to light it but it wouldn't"this candle..." I kept trying but it didn't work "this candle..."I kept trying "shall I go up there and do it for them" I heard aunt say "don't get alflutter, dear" I heard uncle as I turned my head around to see the Pillars giving me a harsh glare making me flinch turning back to the pastor coughing, looking to see that my candle was lit.

"With this candle..." I said taking a breath to calm myself down but instead it blew out the candle "Oh!" I heard aunt "CONTINUE!" the pastor shouted making me flinch, then we heard knocking "get the door, Emil" said Mr. Pillar to his butler "let's just pick it up at the candle bit" the pastor said "only for the butler to come back holding a card with a lady of pink skin, orange and yellow horn, golden hair, and wearing a velvet dress make ng me gulp. "A Lady Julie Joyful, sir" said the butler "I haven't a head for dates, apparently I'm a day early to the ceremony" the lady named Julie said "is she from your side of the family?" I heard Mr. Pillar asked his wife "I don't recall, Emil, a seat for Lady Julie"Mrs. Pillar said to the butler, once gaining a seat she immediately sat down before saying "do carry on".

"Let's try this again, shall we master Gold" the pastor said "yes, of course sir" I said more nervous than ever as I lift my right hand "with this h... hand"I started off holding Howdy's hand making me uncomfortable "I.. with... OH!" I hit the table by accident "three steps, three, can you not count? do you not wish to be married, master Gold" the pastor said with anger "no,no!" I tried to explain "you do not" Howdy said shocked "I-i mean of course I do" I said quickly as I tried to calm my shaking body so as not to anger anyone else "have you even remembered to bring the ring!" The pastor said "of-of course, the ring" I said grabbing it out of my pocket but dropped it due to how undsteady my hands were "oh, no they dropped the ring!" Mrs. Pillar cried "this child doesn't want to get married" the pastor said shocked as I tried to get the ring only for it to roll near Mrs. Pillars dress "I'm so sorry ma'am" I said grabbing the ring, getting up only to smell smoke.

Smoke? I looked down to see that Mrs. Pillars dress was on fire, the fire, so bright and hot, too hot, TOO HOT! I felt myself shaking quickly backing away only to bump into Howdy. I couldn't see anything only the fire as it was bright and orange, I tried to breath but my lungs felt as if they collapsed, I felt as if I was gonna fall. Covering my face trying not to cry as I felt 4 arms rapped around me as I heard someone trying to calm me down but it wasn't working. It was utter chaos until Lady Julie found a bucket of water and pourd it on Mrs. Pillars dress "Enough! This wedding cannot take place until they are properly prepared" the pastor said pointing at me as I pushed away Howdy "learn your vows" he said as I tried to look at him, any of them but nothing it was so blurry I couldn't breath, I needed to leave, I have to leave!

Backing up again only to feel the door I rushed out and ran as far as I could after hearing Lady Julie said "well... their quite the catch, aren't they" making me start to cry.

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Eddie's pov

I kept wondering how Gold was doing, hopefully alright, I would have to find a way to thank them for giving me this cloak thought it's really warm and better then what their family gives me. I was about to doze off until I heard shouting from inside. I got off the carriage and was about to run over to make sure nothing happens to Gold only to see them rush out crying and running straight to the woods. I knew something bad had happened to them as I rushed to follow them not caring that my bones ached I didn't care

"I'll be damned if I let those idiots hurt my kid"

----------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3

#o/c #welcome home #welcome home oc #wally darling #wally darling x o/c #wally darling x reader #wally x reader #corpse puppet au #@sketchquill #howdy pillar #julie joyful #eddie dear

49 notes · View notes

gummybearzgocrazyagain · 1 year

Text

kinn/porsche fic rec

Fake Dating AU

Tell Me That You Love Me (even if it’s fake) by @whitewalkers [luuuuuv me a fandom as ripe with fake dating trope as kp, it never quite loses it’s charm innit. kinn has a high school reunion to attend, and of course why not use it as a ploy to sway his most annoying bodyguard into confessing his nascent feelings... well-done, tis a rec]

Vigilante/Special Agent AU

Deep Like a Coastal Shelf by @Lilla_Torg [aight so this is an author with the very distinguished storytelling pattern, that i can not help but appreciate, their world-building and characterization is usually top notch, and this particular babie is not an exception: porsche and chay were brought up by someone from the syndicate that targets organized crime, and now that people, who used to call themselves their parents, are gone, Porsche is left with the ominous List, and a black leather vigilante suit, to keep their legacy alive. korn and gun are dead, Main and Minor fams are combined, tankhun has taken over as the Leader. kinn handles their overseas ops. amazing quality of storytelling, as always. DNI if you can’t handle pairings other than kp, as this is a multi-pairing piece, as it is customary for this author. but again, the story is so good, i didn’t even skip kimchay/vegaspete bits, which is a feat on it’s own. max kudosssssss]

the house don’t fall (when the bones are good) by @bytheriveriwept [i often say that i luved some works, but there are works i luved, and then there are works i LUVVEEEEEEDDDDDDDD with my whole-ass heart, this bit of genius masterpiece is the case of the latter. kp are special agents, colleagues, parts of the same organization, cohesive unit, and all that. only until porsche decides to take on risqué assignment, and go undercover. will they still be them, when he is back....? what can i say, this was sooooooooo up my alley in so many ways, i don’t even wanna say no more, if you haven’t read this.... what the hell is you even doing]

Third person POV

First Impressions by @AirgiodSLV [oooohhhhh how i luv me some piece of delicious 3rd person pov, yummmmm, Bank is a new hire for the Major fam, and this is the first time he is present at the meeting between the families.... yumm👌]

Alternative Meeting AU

stumbling to the edge by @FireRisingOverTheHills [absolutely delightful and underrated series for those who is not looking for heavy feels: it is light-hearted, sweet, well-written and entertaining, all without being angsty or plot-twist-heavy. despite the alternative meeting, it is still pretty much in-universe compliant. kp meet at a bar under different circumstances, but end up pretty much in the same compromising position that we all love to see them in. much kudos🙏]

the less i know the better by @mslunita [yummmmm, delicious morsel of tinder hookup-turned-softness, i really enjoyed this one: kp initially meet on the apps, and yet, being themselves, immediately turn this motha all soppy and lovey-dovey, - extremely canon-complaint, if you ask me. exactly the kinda content i am here for🙏 super-well done]

For Want of Fighting by @Mara [this fandom sure does luuuuuuv it some alternative meetings aus, huh, and i ain’t about to complain. great short piece, Businessman AU, first meeting is not too drastically different to canon, but the context does slightly differ. very entertaining and def a rec]

Sports AU

Salt by @ronadnhermy [oh. my. god. what a fucking catch, luv luv luved ittttttt, so well-written, so entertaining, there is plot, there is emotional turmoil, morally dubious kinn, maybe the younger versions of them is not exactly my jam, but with such quality, who cares... porsche is like 18-19 and on the Thailand National Taekwondo team, kinn is in uni, and sees something he likes, thangs spiral from there... super recommend, ah-mazing, allllllll the kudos]

bar owner!porsche AU

like real people do by @motherfleckers [Kinn is a celeb, Porsche owns a tiny bar in a tinier fishing town, simple premise with a delightful resolution: eyebrows, usual canon levels of audacity, motorcycle rides, and, most importantly, kinn’s dick is not small. it’s very very good (the fic, not kinn’s dick, although that too). major kudosssssssss]

Now make your bed (now lie in it) by @deliciousblizzardshark [2-for-1 tropes sale, apart from bar owner!porsche, you get accidental babie acquisition, my beloved <33333 fair warning, one must brace themselves for being gutted with longing, as well as general adorableness of kinn going “i’ve only had this random babie for 1,5 days but if something happens to her imma end everyone in this establishment and then myself”, adored this one sooooo much, prolly one of my personal faves, sooooooo many kudosssssss]

Cabin crew AU

before i leave, i want it a thousand times by @mslunita [despite somewhat disparaging reputation real-life cabin crew have acquired in my city, i clearly have no issues reading porsche being one slutty flight attendant, and hey, when your client is kinn anakinn theerapanyakul, who could actually blame him for slightly loosening his morals up on occasion, right? certainly not me, you go boiiiiii]

Historical AU

Love and the Art of War by @fortunehasgivenup [oooooowwwwww yassss, this is sooooo far up my alley it ain’t even funny. first of all, this author is everything, man, love all their fics, must reads, all of them. this specific babie is sooooo precious though: set in some nebulous middle ages, it’s a war camp setting, kinn has been away from home for months, and upon returning from some battle or other, gets an unexpected visitor waiting for him inside his tent. ngl, i would have read 200k of this, but author gave me 4, and i lapped them up like a man starved. perfection, truly. not to mention the use of “anakinn” in any context just does it for me🤷‍♀️]

Sex worker adjacent AU

escort AU by @Oscarian_Flame [Porsche joins the same agency kinn has been a long-term client of, and the universe expands from there. well-written and fun to explore, with interesting oc’s, worth a read for sure!]

Cliff Jump by @AirgiodSLV [ooohhhhh yeahhh babie we talking with this one💅 soooo.... vegas is using the same agency, and it kinda triggers kinn’s competitive side, earning him a certain... reputation. once every twink is bangkok is so exhausted that ain’t noone is able to deal with his over-the-top shite no more, the agency sends someone who has enough stamina to withstand the lengthy bounds of athletic... interactions. yeahhhhh, you guessed it. so very entertaining and plot-twisty. so very delightful]

even though you’re not mine, you’ve got that look in your eyes by @fortunehasgivenup [highly highly doubt there are people left in this fandom who have not read this masterpiece, and yet could not exclude it from the recs, it’s that spectacular. if one must create escort-by-misunderstanding AU.... do it to such level. spectacular work, allllll the kudos]

Night Call by @ziusik [one of my fav pieces in this fandom no cap, if you know this author, you know, i obvi adore every single word of both mileapo and kp this author has everrrrr written, and this particular stripper!porsche au with absolutely helplessly besotted idiot-kinn is outa this worldddddddd great. it’s like if “under the influence” by cb was a fic, the vibe is simply immaculate]

Comedy/Crack

Wilderness Camp by @housseao3 [wholesome and endearing piece of fun, i lichrally cackled multiple times, i meannnn, tankhun with his rompers, chan/tay, sugarplum/chicken, unforgettable ken/groundskeeper....? adorable, entertaining and praise-worthy attempt at light-heartedness and humour, super-well done]

School/Uni AU

let there be no barriers (between you and i) by @anakinn [being both adorable and hot is a general qualifier for ending up on my rec page, so here it goes as well. porsche has had a crush on one of his classmates for the better part of their university journey. one day being bored in class, he decides to test some random online advice, and see whether anyone of his mates is a mind-reader.... you guessed it folks, one particular person just might be. short and to the point delicious morsel of general canon-appropriate kp horniness for eo <3]

i gave a second chance to cupid by @haeseolar [omnomnomnom *chomps down on this fic with gusto* you know the feeling you get while consuming media, this overwhelming regret that the magnificent piece of work you’re currently devouring has already been perceived by you, and you never get to experience it for the first time ever again...? big time my energy while reading this one, what a mind candy, i reeeeeeeeeally enjoyed it🙏🙏🙏 kinn is 39, he is teaching lit at a private school, when the new 24yo PE teacher joins their roster fresh off uni... i dunno what to tell you, this author just gets it, when i say all the kudos, i quite literally mean all the possible kudos for this one]

Various in-universe AUs

The One Where Porsche and Kim Are Gym Buddies by @fortunehasgivenup [oooiiii, what fun, what funnnnnn: kim and porsche are both in the fights, and occasionally meet at the gym... reluctant comradery ensues. they talk to each other about their respective crushes, none the wiser that they have been railing each other’s nong and phi... what else is there to say, the author is so good i even attempted to read kimchay, which is practically unheard of, lich-rally all the kudos]

Here With You by @Yeetyeetbroski [daaaaaaaamn sonnn, the tension, the tensionnnnnn..... “scrumptious” is an understatement for what a treat it was. thank you dear author, much much MUCH kudos p.s. while you’re at it, i’d recommend to go through this author’s whole catalogue, their rendition of kp dynamic is a delight to read]

The Aftermath by @Yeetyeetbroski [yippy, the softness <3333333 So this is an Ep 6 aftermath, an AU for Ep 7. absolutely lovely and adorbs. soft besotted kinn is universally accepted as one of the fandom fav versions of kinn, so in regards of delivering on this front this fic is def up there. awesome read]

Post-canon

Storm to Weather by @archay [it was soooo good, i luv this typa vibe, bitter-sweet, but hopeful <333 the theerapanyakul empire is done for, and kinn and porsche are out to fend for themselves in a real world. tis a rec]

Whittled Down by Another War by @rageprufrock [i... are there even words... abso-fucking-lutely legendary piece, the way theerapanyakul bros dynamic is portrayed in this.... damnnnnnnnnnn, if there is anyone, literally anyone left who has not read this yet... what the fuck are you doing with your life, GO READ THIS ABSOLUTELY MINDBLOWING FIC]

fell in love with the fire long ago by @builtempires [wieeeeeeeeeeee, what a tasty treat: kinn is away on business, and a certain head of the minor family decides that sending his partner some racy pics while separated by thousands of miles would help the situation... it both does and doesn’t. very entertaining, super hot, much kudos]

Magic AU

Instinct by @the-wayside [ohhhhh this bloody gorgeous muthafuckin thang.... i remember being so overwhelmed after reading initial chapters that i even dmed the author, cause it was cloying at my skin, the story is superb. not everyone, but many people got an instinct living inside of them, and what do you think happens when kinn goes to some random underground fight held at some random seedy club and his instinct meets porsche.... yeppp. something about reading how the most animalistic, primal part of kinn wants and longs for what is his is just.... maaaaaaaan, If you haven’t read it yet and there is still an opportunity for you to experience it for the first time, i am so fucking envious no cap]

Poring Down Crimson Fire by @Lilla_Torg [whatttttttt, this was fucking insane, like...??? the world-building??? i fucking can’t, off the charts, insert chief kiss emoji size of a sun. i don’t even know how to rec something like dat, just... insanely devastatingly interesting story, and yeah, technically it’s not even kp fic per se, cause the whole fucking gang be giving off main character vibes. must read]

bonus:

MILEAPO

......................................................................................................................

disclaimer: realizing how tricky the whole topic of rpf might seem, i myself have not dipped a toe in this pool in a long, long time, therefore do completely understand and accept any potential discomfort anyone may have with using names/likeness of real people for fanfiction writing purposes. kindly, if you are uncomfortable with the topic, do not proceed any further, thank yew. p.s. also, as it has been noted so many times before, if you didn’t want us to write/read fanfiction about you, maybe you shouldn’t look at your work colleague like dat, bruv, just saying

......................................................................................................................

Starting Ambitions by @iffervescent [abo rpf, fucking masterpiece, luv this story sm]

Marked by @oliviacirce [yeahhhhhhhh... this. this was... an experience. they are about to film the scene in pete/porsche’s room, but the special effects person is out with the stomach flu, and there is no one to apply the fake hickies to apo’s neck. mile comes up with the brilliant idea that saves the day. no words, only squeals and cheers]

Whole New Kinds of Weather by @archay [short, sweet, hot and to the point 👌 after the NYE 2023 the whole team comes back to Tong’s for an after-party (for the live of me, i dunno why is it always Tong in the fics, tis has become some kind of established fanon by now), and thangs transpire in his bedroom (sorry, phi!!! pls don’t kill them)]

obviously, every single word @ziusik has ever written, especially Limerence, your lips in the street lights, and of fucking course, just a step away, which is definitely one of my fav ma fics everrrrrr and forever fandom classic

and finally...

said you’d be coming back this way again, baby by @concernedlily [this is what i’d call an ultimate ma fic, jokes aside, if there would be a limited amount of fics a person is allowed to read in they lifetime, this would make the cut every time for me. no matter how many wonderfully written, extremely talented ma works are out there, this would always be the ma fic for me, absolutely fandom-forming, i can never praise this work enough]

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche fic rec #mileapo #mileapo fic rec #kinn/porsche

106 notes · View notes

legends-of-apex · 2 years

Text

‘Only If For A Night’ Ch. 4 | Tangerine x Reader

{Click here for series masterlist}

Rating: M for blood, injury detail, profanity, mentions of a pet rat dying

Word Count: 3,750

Chapter Summary: You finally reach your destination: The Sunrise Hotel. Despite reaching the supposed place of luxury and safety, tensions are still running high and Tangerine’s arm still needs stitches. Lemon heads out to get some food for the three of you, leaving you and Tangerine alone. The reader is not referred to as being any specific gender

A/N: Just realised I forgot to mention before the start of the last chapter! Momo is a character from the Bullet Train book who wasn’t in the film and Maria is Ladybug’s handler, in case anyone was wondering <3 hope you enjoy

‘Don’t look at me like that! Keep your eyes on the bloody road, you bellend.’ Tangerine grumbled.

Lemon just grinned with about as much glee as a Cheshire Cat upon witnessing his brother's unusual softness. He’d seen the way he shrugged off his jacket and immediately used it to shield you from the cold, how he even reached over to adjust the fabric so it covered your shoulders.

It wasn’t like him. Tangerine never showed anything other than contempt for anyone but his brother. Yet here he was using his precious Saville Row jacket to shield you from the chilly morning air. It wasn’t like him but it suited him, Lemon thought.

It was morning by the time Lemon pulled the car up at the base of the hotel. The clouds took on a pinkish hue beyond the hulking building as the sun crawled her way through the sky. The hotel was a detached building of about a half dozen floors encased in solid grey stone. The rain had clearly worn away most of the details that would have once stood proud along the ledges but some nestled beneath thick ledges kept their engravings.

Right at the top, in bright white and curly neon letters read ‘The Sunrise Hotel’.

Tangerine surveyed the empty parking lot, his elbow bent out the open window so the cold chewed his forearm. ‘Bit of a shithole, innit?’

‘Just cause it’s not your glass fuckin’ fishbowl of a penthouse?’ Tutted Lemon, tired and irritable having driven so far for so long. He needed his eight hours of rest which he sorely did not have.

‘Well, look at it!’ Tangerine blew smoke from the corner of his mouth so it dissipated out into the morning air. ‘The place probably has rats crawling about everywhere.’ And yes, he also missed his glass fishbowl of a central London penthouse. Not that there was anything in it to miss, really.

Lemon gasped only to be shushed by his brother for being too loud as you slept. ‘Everywhere has rats crawling about everywhere! Don’t you remember Stevie?!’

Lemon couldn’t believe his brother referred to rats so distastefully, least of all when they themselves made a pet out of a rat that lived in their shared bedroom when they were seven. He wasn’t a pet by nature but they made him one by feeding him bits of stale crackers they found at the bottom of their schoolbags.

‘Fucking hell, Lemon. Course I remember Stevie, God rest his soul.’

Tangerine was offended Lemon thought he’d ever forget the poor sod. How could he? The clever thing had somehow survived the rat poison set down on almost every inch of the cramped apartment by their foster parents, or at least he did for a month or two. The twins had a funeral for the rat in a patch of grass around the corner from their home. They played football on that green after school most days with a patchwork ball so haphazardly taped together that it couldn’t really be considered round anymore.

Lemon had been so upset that he couldn’t do anything except sit on the grass, clutching the makeshift coffin in his tiny hands and weep. Meanwhile Tangerine, through his tears, dug a crude little trench with a flat-edged stick.

Stevie was laid to rest within a cardboard Nokia phone box in a grave about as shallow as a child’s thumb. But the twins were only little, they couldn’t have known the importance of digging graves deep in a neighbourhood full of urban foxes with painfully hollow bellies. They still left wilting buttercups on that spot every day until they had to move homes again, even after foxes desecrated the grave.

‘Exactly. So shut your mouth and go wake up sleeping beauty.’

When you awoke it was to Tangerine gently shaking your shoulder. ‘Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey. That’s us here.’ He spoke quietly, his lips and moustache upturned at your grogginess.

It was time to say hello to The Sunrise Hotel.

‘Hi, there! You alright?’ Lemon waved to the receptionist as he approached the desk. ’We have a booking for room-‘

‘Room 601. Correct?’ She asked abruptly, barely even looking up from her paperwork.

Tangerine’s hand flew to his gun instinctively. But he didn't draw it. The way the woman smiled when she looked up made him falter.

‘Uhm, yeah…how’d you know?’ Lemon asked, thick eyebrows raised above calculating eyes. The old vinyl record blasting through metallic speakers seemed to wobble as he spoke, as if it too was nervous.

From his tone of voice, Tangerine could tell his brother was immediately suspicious and probably analysing the shit out of the woman as he spoke. He waited for a signal that something was wrong, even going so far as to step in front of you slightly to keep you out of sight of the woman. But the signal never came.

‘I was told to expect two dashing gentlemen and their acquaintance possibly arriving today.’ She said simply, stepping out from behind the smooth wooden desk. ‘Follow me. Let me show you to your room.’

‘Dashing?’ Lemon mouthed to his brother who simply shrugged his shoulders before wincing from the wound on his arm. Neither of them had ever been accused of being dashing before.

Tangerine let his hand fall back to his side, away from his gun. Instead, he shoved his hand in his pocket, sliding his fingers inside the knuckle duster that nestled there. Just in case.

‘Stay close.’ He told the both of you, quietly.

Tangerine was just as on-edge as you were, his entire body tensed. He eyed every corner of the hallway, every doorway, like he was daring some potential threat to step out and try something. Even the passing bellboys were not immune from his analysing stare, despite their friendly smiles. It was nice to have someone else so fiercely paranoid around even just because it meant you weren't the only one worrying about danger lurking around every corner. Lemon seemed calm, as he always did. He had a quieter was about his suspicion.

The receptionist led you to the elevator, its edges encrusted with shimmering brass. ‘So what brings you to the area? Business or pleasure?’ She asked, awaiting the ding.

‘Bit of both, I suppose. You know how it is.’ Tangerine replied, his tone overly friendly. His mouth upturned into a forced, closed-eyed smile before dropping back to normal the second she turned around. He was overcompensating for the strange way he had his jacket hung over his shoulder like a cloak to hide his arm’s bloody stain.

After ushering you in before her, the receptionist pressed the button for the sixth and final floor with the tip of her nail. Her ring and middle finger were cut shorter than the rest, you realised. Her other nails could have almost been mistaken for neon pink talons, like they would slice anything they touched.

‘You’re very lucky, you know. We have prepared the finest suite for you.’ No one replied so Lemon asked her about a mini bar to put an end to the uncomfortable silence.

You stood beside Tangerine and he looked over as you fidgeted lightly with your hands. When you caught his gaze he blinked slowly and smiled just a little, like he was trying to reassure you that you were going to be okay.

And you were going to be okay if he had anything to say about it.

You found his attempt at reassurance odd only because he seemed so on-edge himself. He didn’t believe that you were safe and yet he wanted you to feel like you were. Maybe it was just wishfull thinking? He probably just wanted this job to be over.

What set this particular hotel apart from others was the carpets. They weren’t patterned in gaudy tones or uneven beneath your feet. In fact they were immaculate and beautiful to the point where you almost felt bad walking upon them. The carpets didn’t look like they were supposed to be tread upon. The entire hotel didn’t really look lived in or occupied at all.

It was an older building. Her bricks reminded you of some Hollywood actress from the 1930s in that they were old but forbidden from ever showing it in anything except wisdom. The same could be said for the dangling light fixtures dotted like golden willow trees along the flowering ceilings. You wondered just how much of a pain they must have been to clean.

When the receptionist ushered you all inside room 601, the space opened into a wide room with couches crowding around a deep-set fire pit on one side and a kitchenette on the other. Right at the room’s centre hung the biggest chandelier they could have possibly crammed into the room. Its size made the endlessly high ceilings almost look small in comparison, the crystal daggers hung and twinkled so grandly that you had to avert your eyes lest they feel like burning.

‘If you need anything during your stay, please don’t hesitate to ask. Dial number one on the room phone for the front desk and ask for me. My name is Alicia.’ She tapped her name tag with a single pink talon. ‘Dinner is from 5 pm in the restaurant on the ground floor. Come at your leisure.’

With that and a soft click of her heels, she was gone.

‘Don’t hotels usually ask that you book dinner?’ Lemon questioned no one in particular.

No sooner had the door shut behind her did Tangerine’s phone ring. He excused himself and walked into the nearest bedroom, closing the door behind him.

‘Well done.’ Their employer's voice grated through the phone as Tangerine dumped his travel bag on the bed closest to the window, peering outside at the view.

There were two beds in the room, both generously-sized doubles with fine white cotton covers and inviting pillows. It felt strange that he and Lemon suddenly had the privilege of staying in such places only after they started killing people for money. It felt even stranger that such a beautiful looking room came with an escort job, they never usually had such perks. But you were a high-value target, he supposed.

‘I was a piece of piss, really. I told you we’d handle the journey.’ He picked up his bag again and instead placed it on the bed closest to the door. It was childish but he liked being closer to the door in case anything nasty came knocking. It was a habit he’d had since he and Lemon were kids. ‘It’ll be keeping the package safe here that’ll be the hard part.’

His employer hummed, a frighteningly deep sound that didn't match his flowery accent. ‘You let me worry about that. Your work here is done. I shall transfer you the rest of the payment once you’ve left the hotel. It was a pleasure doing business with you.’

Tangerine frowned, dragging a hand back through his hair before wincing as the movement stung his wound. ‘So that’s it then? We’re just supposed to leave?’ He cleared his throat to hide the hiss of pain, his voice now stern.

‘That is what I paid you for, yes?’ The man sounded impatient but robotic. Tangerine couldn’t have cared less about his annoyance.

‘No. You paid us to keep the bloody target safe.’ He heard his voice rising as his arm kept stinging. The wound must've opened up again due to the lack of stitches. ‘If we leave, what’s stopping the Blackjacks or any other fuckin’ gang from waltzing right here in and blowing their brains out then eh?’

‘Because I own the hotel.’

That gave him pause. Tangerine had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about the bricks.

‘I couldn’t give a rats arse if you owned the fuckin country, mate. That doesn’t make the place invincible.’ Tangerine flexed his fingers in irritation. ‘My brother and I have a reputation to uphold and dead packages don’t look good on our resume.’

The hotel just looked like any normal high-end hotel, even if it was a bit quiet. He couldn’t understand why their employer was so sure that you would be safe here.

The line was silent for a moment. Their employer sighed, his breath heavy. ‘What do you propose?’

‘Have us stay until you get here. I don’t see any security running about and I doubt your fucking bellboys would be any good in a tussle.’ He heard a sharp intake of breath over the other end of the phone, a sign of wilted patience. ‘Look, we’re not asking for any additional payment. We just like making sure the job’s done proper.’

At the promise of not having to fork out any more cash, the man caved. ‘Very well then. I suppose I shall see you soon.’

‘Yeah, I guess you will.’ Tangerine hung up the phone and chucked it on the nearest bed.

‘Arsehole.’ He uttered.

In the meantime Lemon had been going through a nearby restaurant’s menu with you since he heard your stomach growl. It would be hours until dinner so when Tangerine came back he slipped out to get some food for you all. Tangerine disappeared into the bedroom again, leaving you to get settled in your own.

After setting your bag down on the large oak desk at the foot of your bed, you got changed into some more comfortable clothing and looked around the room. It was set up in an older style, not as old as the hotel herself but still older. Most of the furniture looked like it cost a small fortune with its detailed etchings and fine finishes. The sprawling bed at the room’s centre looked especially expensive with its curved frame, dark wood and solid. Thankfully it didn't creak when you sat upon its edge.

What an insane twenty four hours you’d had. You’d gone from staying on your own in your tiny little safe house, alone and afraid, to being driven to perhaps the most luxurious hotel you’d ever been in by the Twins. You’d been shot at and hunted but most importantly you’d been protected and despite everything, you allowed yourself to feel just the tiniest bit safer than you did by yourself.

About a half hour later, you sought out Tangerine, calling out his name from the open bedroom doorway.

‘In here!’ He called out, his voice disintegrating into a groan. You frowned and walked inside.

The first sight that greeted you was the bed where his clothes lay folded pristinely next to his open travel bag. There was a gun nestled atop the perfectly pressed fabrics. The other bed housed Lemon’s belongings, strewn neatly but more carelessly than his brother’s.

‘Everything alright?’ He called out and you kept walking until you reached the bathroom’s entrance. White light streamed out of the ensuite doorway, casting golden rays on the opposing wall.

‘I just wanted to make sure your arm was okay.’ You offered.

He just laughed. That was funny given the blood coating his hand.

He stood so his wounded arm faced you but that wasn’t the first thing you noticed. His waistcoat lay discarded on the sink’s edge and he only had one arm in his shirt. The fabric hung off him almost like a side-cape, his wounded arm and half his bare torso were fully on display before you.

He peered into the mirror, a needle and thread clutched between his fingers as blood seeped down his arm and slicked his hand. His dress trousers hung low on his hips and every thick, deep ridge of his chest and stomach was evident beneath the harsh white light. The skin stretched tightly over the muscle there as he moved and flinched. You tried not to let that distract you.

He jolted suddenly, eyes scrunching shut and sucking air in through his teeth. His golden necklace swung back against his chest as he moved so sharply, the pendant twinkling in the light.

‘Do you need some help with that?’ You asked.

He spared you a glance, giving you the once over before looking back to the mirror. He looked like he was irritated by your question, his eyebrow raised. But something you would soon come to learn about Tangerine was that was just the face he made when he was thinking a little too hard about something, he just happened to stare disapprovingly at the nearest thing in his field of view.

He was thinking about letting you be that close to him, about how much he liked the thought.

‘I’m alright. Thanks, love.’ But as he said it he winced and fumbled the stitching again.

‘Here, let me.’ You touched his forearm gently, reassuringly before you moved to the sink.

Such a gentle touch made his stomach drop. He didn’t protest as you washed your hands and took the needle from between his bloodied fingers, just quietly observing. It looked like he’d dipped his hand in a tin of red paint, blood collected in vein-like vines along the surface of his golden rings and pooled slightly at their base.

He leaned back against the sink so you could get a better look, inviting you into his space. He clutched his forearm to keep himself steady for you, his bare chest bulging as he did.

Again, you tried not to let that distract you.

Instead, you stepped in even closer to him, examining his arm. You were close enough to smell his cologne and the faintest hint of the cigarettes he smoked. He must have bought the expensive kind of both because the smell wasn't at all unpleasant.

‘You’ve made a right mess of yourself.’ You huffed.

‘Yeah, I never was the best at fixing things.’ He usually preferred to be the one making a mess. He said it like he was talking about sewing a button back on, not like he was stitching up a gash in his own skin.

‘Stay nice and still for me?’ You requested and he did so without hesitation. You felt his body tense as the needle pierced the torn skin but he didn't so much as utter a curse. Lemon always said he never listened but he found himself listening to you like a song. Stubbornness seemed to drain from him with each word that left your lips. It was probably just the blood loss.

You decided to keep talking just to keep his mind off the pain. ‘Stitches are less of a permanent fix and more of a helpful nudge in the right direction,’ You reassured him. ‘Your body has to handle the fixing part all on its own and yours looks like it’s had plenty of practice.’

The numerous scars that littered his upper body hadn’t escaped your notice. One in particular on his shoulder caught your eye as it intersected with one of his tattoos. A scorpion stretched from the flat part of his shoulder with its tail etched in a beautifully straight line along the sharp edge of his collarbone. The tail flickered over his shoulder and about a quarter of the way down its dark, curled tail sat a jagged scar where something had once cut deep into his skin.

His tattoos especially longed to be touched, to be appreciated for how beautiful their penmanship was. Where you were standing you could only see an English bulldog with a monocle, a swallow on his forearm and the scorpion on his shoulder. There was one of his ribs too but you dared not let your eyes linger any longer in case he noticed.

‘This line of work was never without its- fucking hell.’ His eyes widened as you drew his skin together tightly like a corset. He gripped the bathroom sink with his free hand, knuckles white, and swallowed a groan.

‘I know it must be really sore. I’m sorry,’ Your voice was soft, gentle. It wasn’t a tone he was used to being on the other side of. You placed a hand on his arm again in comfort and he liked it being there. The touch let him focus on something other than the pain.

Between tattoos and bullet wounds, his skin was used to the cold sting of a needle. That usually didn't mean stitches ever hurt any less. But he was surprised at how little your needlework hurt and how gentle you were until now. He barely felt anything compared to the times he’d tried to stitch himself up or when Lemon helped.

‘If I’m still alive after all this, I owe you one for that.’ You pointed to his arm, the stitches now tied off.

‘Just another to add to the collection, love. And it’s when not if.’ He corrected you. ‘I have absolutely no intention of letting anything bad happen to you.’

You looked up at him just for a second as you dabbed some blood off his arm. He was sincere, it seems. As you found he always was. ‘It's not your intentions that I’m worried about.’

‘You don't trust our employer…’ He trailed off in thought.

Lemon didn’t either and he was always the intuitive one. Even if he did have to relate people to cartoon steam engines, he was never wrong about the feeling he had about someone. Ever. Tangerine trusted his brother’s judgment significantly more than his own.

‘And you do?’ You asked him. Of course you didn't trust the guy who paid to have you kept safe when everyone else wants you dead.

He dodged the question only because he sensed that wasn’t really what you were asking. ‘I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise.’

‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to make promises you might not be able to keep?’ You asked, daring to look up and catch his gaze again. The blue in his eyes swam the way warm oceans did when kissed by the sun.

‘I don’t.’ He replied and he meant it.

There was something in his eyes then that you couldn’t place. But it was gone all too quickly as you both heard Lemon’s muffled voice through the walls shouting to say he was back and that the food was still warm.

You stepped away from Tangerine and he from you.

Tangerine tag list: @icy-spicy @simpingforclaudette @cockete @padfoot-1959 @revenstaz @family-video @multifandomfanfic @robertdowneyhiddlesbatch @ashyyslashy @ifilwtmfc @ayoyouyo @noz4a2 @jo-noodles @vi0letblu3s @thelooneytoon @4ng3l-0n-34rth @sjprongs @stardustworlds @willowpains @chanooopy @elizabeth-skywalker @queenofstarsanddarkness @vampire-teeth7 @andfreeshipping (please feel free to let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list <3)

#tangerine x reader #bullet train #tangerine bullet train #bullet train 2022 #aaron taylor johnson #only if for a night #series #fic #mywriting #k.exe

336 notes · View notes