#charlies angels thin man

[manyimaginativemuses]

Lend Me Your Voice (Thin Man/Anthony X Original Character) - Chapter 4

Chapter Warnings: N/A

Read on AO3

Tags: @vereorr @werewolf-on-high @labyrinthphanlivingafacade @stainedlilac @c0ffinshit @milton-dammers

For the first time in a long time, Miranda was happy. True happiness was something that was very fleeting in her life. Any time she thought she was happy, it was only for a brief moment before the normal mundanities of life crawled back into view. And Miranda’s current source of joy was the tall, skinny man she rescued off the street.

Anthony had been living with her for about a week by this point, and despite them being in such close proximity, Miranda barely got any information out of him. In contrast, she talked her head off and amazingly Anthony actually listened. He didn’t really have many friends, being an assassin he tried not to have too many connections as it was. But having a friend that was like him, someone who shared many of his mental and sensory problems, was just the thing he needed to really be himself. Unfortunately, the more he healed, the more he knew he’d have to leave her soon. He was almost tempted to injure himself just to have an excuse to stay with her, but he knew Miranda was smart enough to figure out what he was doing.

One evening when Miranda was at work, Anthony knew it was time for him to leave. He was almost completely healed by then and he had contacts who could take the stitches out for him, so he didn’t need to be with her anymore. He already liked her enough as it was, and he knew that if he stayed with her, he’d get closer to her, and if he got closer to her, she’d be in far more danger than if he left at that moment. He also knew that people were beginning to talk in the assassin circle. News of his actions against the Angels and O’Grady were spreading, and given some of the messages he was getting on his phone, he needed to go back to work before people started looking for him. Anthony sighed heavily to himself as he gathered up all his things and wrote a note for Miranda.

“My dearest Miranda,

Thank you for saving my life. I must admit, I was more than willing to die that night. My life has been nothing but chaos and pain, but you came in and changed everything. You saved me and you showed me there was at least a little bit of sunlight in all the darkness. Thank you for your hospitality and your kindness. Unfortunately I had to take the clothes you gave me, as I didn’t have anything else to wear since you cut my suit off, but one day I’ll repay your kindness tenfold. If you should ever need to contact me for any reason, I have included my phone number at the bottom of this letter.

Thank you once again for brightening my dark little corner of the world.

Sincerely,

Anthony”

He sighed again as he placed the note on Miranda’s bed that he made before he left. Leaving her was one of the most difficult things he had to do in a while, but he knew it was necessary to keep them both safe. He ended up going out through the fire escape as he didn’t want to get caught on camera, and once he had his feet on solid ground, Anthony vanished into the shadows like he always did. He didn’t want to hang around to hear Miranda’s reaction to his note.

Once he’d left Miranda’s apartment, he headed straight back to his home. Using his contacts in the mercenary community, he was able to find reliable and silent transportation back to his house. He lived in an extremely wealthy, extremely high end, and extremely protected neighborhood. Most of his neighbors were shady black market dealers of some variety and it was very much a “don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t snitch” kind of environment. Anthony enjoyed it that way as it meant he didn’t have to talk to many people. When he was dropped off, he smiled softly at the sight of his large house. He was glad to be home, despite the quiet ache in his chest from missing Miranda. However, when he walked inside, the sudden smell of familiar cigar smoke made him roll his eyes.

Why the fuck did I give him a key? He thought to himself as he walked towards the source of the smell. The moment he turned the corner into the library, a small throwing knife whizzed past his head, lodging itself in the wall behind him. Anthony growled in annoyance as now he had to fix the dent in the wall, but he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his friend lounging in the leather chair.

“You missed, you cyclops.” Anthony signed in ASL. The man in the chair snorted a laugh and took a puff of his cigar. He was a rather handsome man despite the eyepatch over his right eye. He was decked out in almost full leather except for the white undershirt he wore. His hair was coifed and just as dark as the rest of his outfit.

“I did not miss. I just did not want you dead. After all, according to rest of the group, you are already dead.” The man spoke with a thick Scandinavian accent but Anthony understood him perfectly, “What is with the clothing, my friend? I have never seen you in sweatpants as long as I have known you!” He asked and Anthony chucked, shaking his head.

“It’s a long and complicated story, but knowing you Nikolai, you have nothing but time.”

“I do my job right, of course I have time. Get the job done quick, I can be free to enjoy life to the fullest.” Nikolai replied as Anthony lit up one of his own cigarettes and flopped into the matching leather chair beside his friend, “I am glad to see you again. I knew you were not dead, you’re too quick and smart to let yourself be killed by a moron like Seamus O’Grady.”

“Surprisingly he did put up a good fight, I hate that I have to hand it to him.” Anthony pointed to where he’d been stabbed, “He caught me off guard but he got the death he deserved for it.”

“I heard. His corpse was found stabbed and crushed in nearby dumpster.” Nikolai chuckled, “Although his death lacks your usual polish, if he caught you off guard it makes sense.” Nikolai blew a smoke ring with his cigar as Anthony finally relaxed. However, his mind couldn’t stop thinking about Miranda. He felt bad that he had to leave her, it broke his heart imagining how she’d react reading his letter, and he must’ve been showing his emotions on his face because Nikolai clocked him immediately.

“Alright mager jævel, how you say, spit it out? Something is troubling you, and even though I am not best at reading emotions, you are upset. Tell me before I have to rip it out of you.” Nikolai asked, leaning closer to Anthony on his chair. Anthony merely leaned over and blew a puff of cigarette smoke into his friend’s face.

“Then you will have to drag it out of me kicking and screaming. It is none of your concern. All you need to know is that I’m back now, nothing else matters.” Anthony angrily signed back. Nikolai scoffed and smirked, settling back into his chair in thought.

“Well then… whatever it is must be important to you… now I am even more curious.” Nikolai hummed to himself, coming up with a plan to find out just what exactly Anthony was hiding.

[werewolf-on-high]

[milton-dammers]

Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle (2003) Thin Boy

[stainedlilac]

Thin Man's always watching

REDBUBBLE-PRINTS-COMMS-ETSY

[stupidocupido]

Growing up is admitting that Crispin was hot as the thin man in Charlie’s Angels.

[labyrinthphanlivingafacade]

having a normal one w the charlie's angels movies lately

[pascaloverx]

SILENCE

Summary: You are a secret agent embarking on your first solo mission to track and gather information on a peculiar man known as Thin Man. Intriguing challenges undoubtedly await you on this daring assignment.

Author's Note: By request, I am writing my first fanfiction featuring Thin Man, set in the universe of Charlie's Angels (2000). As such, none of the characters belong to me. This fanfiction will include adult content, inappropriate language, and violence. @dipyouuinhoney this is for u.

ONE

A restaurant, surrounded by civilians. Couples attempting to rekindle the spark of a failing marriage, husbands with their mistresses, families forced to gather to celebrate some trivial achievement. All of them share the same space as you, while you wait for your target to arrive. Charlie, your elusive boss, has assigned you to a solo mission. Typically, the agency operates with three spies working together, but this task is straightforward: identify the target and investigate his routine.

The man in question has been described as peculiar—jet-black hair slicked back with plenty of gel, impeccably tailored black suits, and an extraordinary skill with weaponry. He’s become entangled with a dangerous group of criminals. Your mission is to understand this man deeply enough to identify his weakness and, in turn, use it to sway him into working for Charlie and the agency.

The man you were tasked with observing, known as Thin Man, finally arrives at the restaurant. From what you’ve gathered from a distance, he frequents this place before heading off to meet a mysterious woman. His presence is so anticipated by the staff that a table is always reserved for him—a table conveniently close to where you’re seated.

A glass of red wine rests before you, a prop to make it seem like you’re here for an ordinary dinner rather than anything suspicious. The menu in your hands serves as a façade as your eyes follow the man you’re meant to be surveilling. His piercing blue gaze locks onto you with an intensity that feels predatory, his sharp nose and pale, distinct features made even more striking as he strides confidently toward your table. Without hesitation, he pulls out the chair opposite you and sits down as though he were your invited companion.

"I’m sorry, but this seat isn’t available," you say subtly, feigning a sweetness that doesn’t truly exist in your voice, as if oblivious to the audacity of his actions.

He says nothing, his gaze fixed on you, studying you with unnerving intensity. A low "hmm" escapes his lips as he leans forward, picking up your glass of wine and downing it in almost a single gulp. Without a word, he retrieves a cigarette from his pocket, holding it delicately between his fingers, and extends it toward you as though daring you to take it.

You hesitate briefly, unsure of his intent, but decide to accept the challenge. Placing the cigarette between your lips, you watch as he smoothly produces a lighter from his pocket, igniting the tip with a deliberate flick.

"Don’t worry," he says, his tone calm and laced with quiet amusement. "The restaurant is used to me smoking here—not that you didn’t already know that. Now tell me, who hired you to follow me?" You take a long drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke deliberately into his face. He doesn’t flinch—on the contrary, he seems to enjoy it, the faintest trace of a smirk forming on his lips.

"Why should I tell you?" you reply, your voice steady, cool. "It seems you already have all the answers." With that, you cross your legs deliberately, adjusting your dress to reveal just enough of your thighs. If seduction is a weapon, then now is the time to wield it.

"Ah, a woman of little faith," he muses, his tone laced with superiority, almost as though toying with you. "There may yet be details I haven’t uncovered on my own. As you can see, I’m a very busy man."

"And what are your occupations?" you ask, holding his gaze as you take the cigarette and stub it out on the tablecloth, right in front of Thin Man. His sharp eyes remain fixed on you, intrigued by your deliberate defiance.

"That," he replies, his voice smooth yet dismissive, "is what you’d like to know. But since I fail to see how it could possibly concern you, I’ll keep it to myself." With a slight motion, he signals for a waiter to clean up the mess you’ve just made, his composure entirely unshaken, as if your actions were merely another part of the game.

"Then I suppose you'd prefer to enjoy your meal in peace. If you’ll excuse me," you say, rising from your seat. You pick up the handbag resting on the table and let your hair down from its restrained style, the strands cascading over your shoulders. But as you begin to move away, he grabs your arm with surprising strength, halting your departure. Though lean, his grip is firm enough to keep you in place, pulling you slightly back.

You pause, wondering what he intends, but then he surprises you. His fingers slide into your hair with an almost unsettling gentleness as he leans in, inhaling deeply. The intimate gesture sends a shiver through you, though you hide it well. He brushes your hair back fully, tugging it lightly but deliberately as he leans closer.

"Sit down," he murmurs near your ear, his voice calm but commanding. "Have a meal with me, and only leave when I say so." The scent of wine on his breath mingles with the proximity of his voice, making it harder to keep your thoughts straight.

For a moment, his closeness is disorienting. You tilt your head to the side, almost leaning onto his shoulder, before responding coolly, "I’ll sit because I’ve just remembered I haven’t eaten yet. But if you think your threatening tone will work on me, know this: I don’t even need a weapon to hurt you." You fix him with a steady gaze before pushing him back slightly and lowering yourself back into your chair. As you settle, you catch his soft murmur: "Good girl."

You refuse to let him feel so in control, so you take the initiative, signaling for the waiter and promptly placing your order. Meanwhile, the man in front of you doesn’t bother—his usual choice is evidently well-known. The waiter swiftly takes the menus away, returning moments later with a full bottle of wine, a gesture of courtesy from the house.

As the waiter prepares to serve, Thin Man makes a subtle but firm gesture with his hand, taking the bottle from the waiter in a manner that is both gentle and commanding. In the next instant, he’s pouring the wine for both of you, his eyes never leaving yours. That arrogance of his—it’s infuriating.

"Why did you speak to me?" you ask, taking a deliberate sip of wine. "I was told your style is more… ‘embrace the silence.’"

He leans back, the corners of his lips curling into a sly, almost wicked smile. "Some people can grasp simple truths with nothing more than a gesture. Words, after all, are often wasted on the wind. But for some reason, I thought you might need to hear me say it to understand—I’m not playing games with you." His remark stings, and the amusement in his expression only deepens as he notices your offense.

"So, you’re indirectly calling me a fool," you reply sharply, setting your glass down with a touch more force than intended. "I see you’re a man who knows how to charm a woman. It makes me wonder how far that enchanting personality of yours has actually gotten you." Your tone drips with impatience as you finish the rest of your wine, not bothering to hide your irritation.

"My sexual performance is what you wish to discuss?" Thin Man asks, sipping his wine, his piercing gaze locked onto yours.

"If that’s what you understood, then surely it’s what I meant," you reply with a subtle smirk. "But if the topic is too sensitive for you, we can wait for our meal in silence." You adjust yourself in your chair, letting your eyes wander briefly around the room, feigning disinterest. The silence that follows stretches—seconds, perhaps even minutes—laden with tension.

"I am efficient in everything I do, I assure you," he finally says, his tone calm yet cutting. "But to learn more, you’d have to be far more interesting than you’ve been so far." His words drip with indifference, almost insulting in their casual dismissal.

"If I seem uninteresting to you, it’s because there is absolutely zero chance I would ever be interested in you in that way," you reply, your tone sharp as you attempt to mask any trace of intrigue with feigned disinterest.

"In that case," he murmurs, his voice taking on an oddly seductive—though unsettling—tone, "perhaps we should put that to the test." The audacity of his words leaves you momentarily stunned. What is this man’s deal?

Before you can retort, he slides his chair closer to you with a precision that’s unnerving, as though the bustling restaurant around you doesn’t even exist. His long, thin hands—cool to the touch and unexpectedly firm—find their way to your thigh. Your eyes flash with defiance as you meet his gaze, waiting, daring him to make his next move. Slowly, almost experimentally, his fingers begin to trail upward, and your breath hitches, not from fear but from a calculated anticipation of what you’ll do next.

His fingers halt just shy of your inner thigh, his piercing gaze locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. "I’ve barely touched you," he murmurs, his tone low and deliberate. "And yet, you’re trembling, visibly aroused. I am so certain of your interest in me that I don’t even need to move my fingers higher to know exactly what I’d find."

He leans closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and deliberate. "The only question that remains," he continues in a voice barely above a whisper, "is what you’ll do when you’re dripping wet, with no one to make use of it." Your breath catches, his proximity leaving you momentarily at a loss.

But before you can retort, the waiter arrives with your meals, shattering the tension like a stone through glass. Thin Man withdraws gracefully, his movements as smooth and deliberate as ever. Neither of you speaks, but the charged silence between you is undeniable, your eyes locked in a prolonged exchange that promises this is far from over.

You finish the meal in silence, Thin Man’s audacious words echoing in your mind, unraveling the composure you prided yourself on. With a final sip of wine, you rise, addressing him with deliberate indifference. "I am taking my leave. I sincerely hope I do not encounter you again anytime soon."

He watches you as you make your way toward the counter to settle the bill, his expression unreadable. Ignoring his presence entirely, you stride purposefully, silently reprimanding yourself for losing focus. You’re a spy, for heaven’s sake, you think, lightly patting your cheeks as if to snap yourself back into professionalism. Yet, as you near the elevator, there’s an inexplicable pang, as if you’ve left something behind.

The elevator arrives, and just as you prepare to step inside, his voice cuts through the air behind you. "You shouldn’t leave someone dining alone." You freeze but refuse to turn, your voice clipped and firm. "For someone who finds me so uninteresting, you seem remarkably determined to follow me."

The sensation of something sharp grazing your neck makes you stiffen. Before you can react, you hear the faint snip. Your hand flies to your hair, and your stomach drops as you realize a lock of it is gone. "You bastard!" you hiss, spinning on your heels and delivering a slap with such force it splits his lip.

Thin Man doesn’t recoil. Instead, he licks the blood from the corner of his mouth, his blue eyes gleaming with something unsettling. "You’re proving to be far more intriguing than I initially thought," he purrs, his tone dripping with amusement. The sharp scent of your hair fills the space between you as he holds the cut strand to his nose, inhaling deeply before letting out a low growl. You feel the elevator doors open behind you, but you’re rooted in place by his audacious display.

"I’ll keep this as a souvenir until we meet again," he murmurs, his gaze locking onto yours as he steps backward into the closing elevator. Even as the doors seal shut, the tension lingers in the air, the memory of his wicked grin burning into your thoughts. You’re left standing there, shaken but resolved, knowing this encounter is far from over.

[weaponizedmoth]

Sketch of Dylan and the Thin Man from Charlie's Angels.

[bunnyybundy]

『 Cʀᴇᴇᴘʏ Tʜɪɴ Mᴀɴ 』

From Charlie's Angels

Crispin Glover is a great and Handsome actor 💙🔪

[manyimaginativemuses]

Lend Me Your Voice (Anthony/The Thin Man x Original Character) - Chapter 2

Chapter Warnings: N/A

Read on AO3

Tags: @vereorr @werewolf-on-high @peanutbutternun @labyrinthphanlivingafacade @stainedlilac @c0ffinshit

Miranda had to sit in her bean bag chair for a good half an hour to finally get her body to self regulate. Sudden change and extreme situations like that often sent her into a meltdown, but she had tools for this and she used them. When she was able to stand up without shaking or crying, she approached the man’s side. He was fast asleep from the morphine and, although she hadn’t checked and was a little mad at herself for not checking, his breathing seemed even and healthy. Grabbing her stethoscope just in case, she listened to his breathing as he slept. Miraculously, it didn’t sound like he’d punctured a lung. Whatever pierced his chest had not only missed his heart and any major arteries, but it also missed piercing his lungs.

“You are one lucky motherfucker…” She whispered, shaking her head before she noticed her hair. The chunk he had ripped out earlier was fisted tightly against his face where he had been rubbing it. She wondered what his thing was with hair, but maybe she’d get a chance to ask him in the morning. It was also at this point that she really got a good look at him. Lean was the best descriptor Miranda had for him. He was tall and thin but surprisingly muscular despite his appearance. He didn’t have any real abs to speak of but he was definitely toned. She snorted a laugh at the thought of this man’s workout routine. The strange thing was that he was covered in scars. His porcelain pale skin was littered with scars, some appeared to be former bullet wounds but most seemed to have been made by a blade of some kind.

“What happened to you, Mister? Who are you?” She wondered aloud as she started to pull off the clothes she was forced to cut off him. Miranda had never felt such a finely made suit before. It was lined with silk and the outside was a beautiful pinstripe pattern. It was also while pulling it off the bed that she noticed he had another chunk of hair sticking out of his pocket, this time the hair belonged to a redhead.

“You just keep getting weirder and weirder…” Miranda left his side once she was sure he was breathing so she could text Darius and Jade to tell them the situation. This was, by far, the craziest thing that had ever happened to her, atleast from her perspective. Amazingly her boss and coworker were remarkably understanding, telling her to call them if needed and to stay safe. She gave a heavy sigh when she finally was able to relax, peeling off her work clothes. She looked over once again at the sleeping stranger in her bed as she pulled on her pajamas and tied her hair into braids.

“Well, I guess I’m getting the couch. Please just… don’t be dead by the morning, Mr. Stranger.” Miranda said softly as she hopped onto the couch, swapping out her work earplugs for her sensory headphones, and preparing for a long damn night.

And surprisingly, it wasn’t as difficult as she imagined, despite getting up and checking to make sure he was still breathing every half an hour. She had one of her favorite YouTubers on in the background so it made the night a little easier and she tried to catch naps when she could, but she knew she needed to be awake enough just in case something went wrong. When he finally started to stir, she had already eaten breakfast and taken her medication to make sure all her faculties were up and running to take care of him.

“Good morning sunshine.” Miranda said softly as the man started groaning awake, probably still in pain of course, but he also most likely still had a little morphine left in his system. She almost gasped again when she saw how beautiful and haunting his blue eyes were, but she forced herself to stay calm.

As soon as he realized he was awake, Anthony started rubbing the hair against his cheek, needing the sensory input and the smell to get him back to himself. He heard a voice speaking to him as he groggily awoke, the morphine making his entire body feel like it weighed 1000 pounds. But when he looked up and saw the stranger that had rescued him, it oddly wasn’t fear he started to feel, it was relief and a feeling of peace.

“You gave me quite a scare last night mister. You’re incredibly lucky, whatever pierced you missed all your vital organs and vessels, although you definitely do have some broken ribs and you might walk with a limp for a while given how your legs look. But you’re alive, that’s all that matters.” Miranda started, “What’s your name so I can stop calling you mister?” She asked with a laugh but Anthony blinked as he watched her. He definitely didn’t have the energy to attempt to speak, so he sat up as best he could, grunting in pain from the effort, and made a writing motion in the air.

“Can’t you speak?” She asked and Anthony shook his head.

“Huh, never met a mute man before.” Miranda thought out loud and Anthony rolled his eyes. He wasn’t mute, he could speak, it just took a hell of a lot more effort than most people to do so. However, Miranda left and quickly returned with a pen and notepad, handing him the materials as she got more pillows to put behind him so he could sit upright.

“Where am I?” He wrote and Miranda raised an eyebrow.

“You’re in my apartment. I’m Miranda, Miranda Sullivan. You requested no hospitals last night, and I live across the street from the club where I found you, so it was either bring you here and fix you up or you die.” She explained with a shrug as he started writing again.

“No one told you to take me here? Did anyone see you bring me here?” His questions were strange and Miranda was even more confused as he frantically wrote out questions rather than answering hers.

“No? Why would anyone tell me to take you in? Why the hell would it matter if someone saw anyway? It’s not illegal to help a stranger off the street is it?” Anthony let out a sigh of relief through his nose, but he was still nervous that this was some kind of trap for when he was most vulnerable. However, the woman in front of him seemed truthful, and her body language didn’t suggest deception of any sort. He paused for a moment and nodded before writing out something else.

“Anthony. You may call me Anthony.” The simple sentence made Miranda smile but he was right back to asking more questions immediately afterwards, “What happened to my clothes?”

“I unfortunately had to cut them off you as I didn’t know the extent of your injuries and you weren’t capable of telling me what was wrong. I left the scraps in my kitchen in case you wanted to take them with you once you’re better. Oh, that reminds me.” Miranda left once again before returning with a flip phone, “I found this in the pocket of your suit. You should probably call or text any friends or family to let them know you’re alright and that you’re going to be staying here for a while.”

“Staying here?!” He asked.

“I mean, where else are you going to go? You said no hospitals and given everything I’ve been able to gather just from your suit and looking at you, I don’t think you have many other places to go or am I wrong?” She stated bluntly and he froze, locking his jaw and sighing again as she had read him like a book. That was when he turned and tried to stand up, causing Miranda to rush to his side as he almost immediately fell from his legs giving out under him.

“Ok Anthony, alright buddy, I’m assuming you probably have to go to the bathroom.” The look he cut her made her almost snort a laugh, “What? You didn’t go all night! Atleast the bathroom is right here so you don’t have to go far!” She helped him to stand upright and she handed him a cane that she kept in her closet for the days when her chronic pain was a little too much. Amazingly he could still walk, just with a bit of effort, and she helped him into the bathroom as she stood outside.

I feel like a child again, this is so fucking embarrassing… Anthony thought as he relieved himself, hating that Miranda was correct on all counts. Who was this woman and why was she being so nice to him? If she didn’t have any ulterior motive as it appeared she didn’t, why was she trusting him with not only her home but also herself. He made note of the windows in her bathroom just in case he needed an escape later, but for now he was content with staying. And as he looked at himself in the mirror once he was finished, he could barely recognize himself. His face was beaten and bruised, there was a large bandage covering his chest along with a matching one on his back, and his hair was a complete mess. The fact that it was in his face and not slicked back was definitely irritating and he started rubbing Miranda’s hair on his face to soothe himself.

“You alright in there?” Miranda called as she knocked on the wall, making him roll his eyes again as he limped back out into her bedroom. The sight of her apartment was quite overstimulating, with color and plushies almost everywhere he looked. If Anthony didn’t already know this was a grown woman’s home, he would’ve assumed this place belonged to a child given all the childish items. It was then that he also noticed she had changed the towels on the bed and laid out an oversized tee shirt and a pair of boxers.

“You didn’t have any other clothes with you, so you’re gonna have to settle for the shit my exes left behind. Given the silk on the inside of your suit, I grabbed the softest feeling ones that I could find.” Miranda explained as Anthony limped back to the bed, reaching out and touching the shirt and boxers. The shirt was acceptable, definitely far worse quality than he was used to, but when he touched the boxers he yanked his hand back as if he’d been burned and made an audible gag noise.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, peaking her head back into the room since she’d gone to grab something. Anthony pointed at the boxers, made a disgusted face and shook his head, “What’s wrong with them?” She asked and Anthony groaned with annoyance, grabbing the notepad and pen again.

“Bad texture, feels uncomfortable.”

“Oh! Oh shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you had sensory issues too! Lemme try to find something else!” Miranda ran past him to dig through her closet as Anthony stood there stunned. No one, not even the nuns who raised him, had ever believed him when he complained about a bad texture. Certain fabrics like crushed velvet or certain cotton blends made him feel like he’d rather peel his own skin off than wear it for long periods of time. Unfortunately no one ever listened to him and forced him to wear uncomfortable clothing or touch uncomfortable things when he didn’t want to. Hell, he often did the only thing he could do and screamed at them to try and get the point across but they only forced it on him even harder then. This woman, his random stranger who saved his life and took him in without a second thought, was the only person in his entire life who didn’t question him when he complained about a fabric texture. She didn’t laugh at him, she didn’t force him to wear the uncomfortable boxers, she apologized and went to look for a different pair. Anthony almost felt overwhelmed with emotion just from this simple act of kindness, but he couldn’t let it show, especially to someone he didn’t know or trust.

“Here, feel these. Not sure if they’ll fit but they’re the closest I’ve got to your size.” Miranda said as she returned with a pair of red pajama pants. He reached out and touched the pants, a gentle smile crossing his face when he realized the texture was actually really nice. He nodded and took the pants from her. He’d been wearing nothing but his briefs from the previous night since Miranda cut his clothes off, so this would definitely make him feel less exposed. She watched as he put the clothes on, helping him when necessary and making sure he didn’t hurt himself even more, before she gave him a warm smile once he was back in the bed.

“I already ate my breakfast, but you definitely need to eat something if I’m going to give you more pain medication later. Do you have a preference of what you want to eat?” She asked and he paused for a moment before nodding. She told him to write down his order as she was preparing the kitchen and Anthony still couldn’t believe this was his situation. The previous night he was on the brink of death and now here he was wearing another man’s clothes in a gorgeous stranger’s bed being taken care of by said stranger. The best he could do was take advantage of this and use it like a mini vacation to relax. He had always healed faster than normal anyway, so he’d try to stay out for the count as long as he could so he could give his brain a break.

However, giving his brain a break was proving to be exceptionally difficult when Miranda kept approaching him with a smile and her decently large breasts that he had tried to ignore up until this point. Despite having his own “idiosyncrasies” as the nuns had called it, Anthony was still a man who was attracted to feminine bodies as well as masculine ones. So when presented with a beautiful set of tits like the ones attached to Miranda, he couldn’t help but stare. And he was incredibly embarrassing when she caught him doing so.

“Ummmm, hey Ant, my eyes are up here.” Miranda teased when she caught his stunning eyes staring at her chest. He made a face at her nickname, causing her to laugh at how his angular face changed with disgust. She laughed again when she saw his order, her eyebrow quirking when she met his eyes again, “You’re very particular about your food too, again much like me. Given the thing with the hair that you do and your reaction to the clothes as well as this, I wonder if you’re autistic like me. Maybe you’ll tell me when you’re ready, but regardless, you are once again in luck. This is my favorite coffee brand too, I have to order it online since it’s so special, and I’ll get this started for you ok?” Miranda gave him a big genuine smile before heading to the kitchen and Anthony lied there processing what she had said.

He had heard of autism before, some of his coworkers mentioned it whenever he was around but he never thought they were referring to him. He would have to look it up later to really understand what it meant, but at that moment, he remembered the flip phone that she handed him. It seemed like she hadn’t checked it for any texts or calls which was good. He didn’t want this woman to accidentally get on any kind of hit list for knowing something she shouldn’t. She was innocent in all this, just a random kind soul who decided to help him. When he opened the phone, there were a few texts from his employers, mostly asking if he wanted to take a job or two. There was one text from a colleague, letting him know the Angels might be onto him and his history, but he didn’t really care much about them right at that moment. He did care about Dylan though… Dylan Sanders, the wild child of the Angels. He had saved her life, kissed her, and had almost been murdered trying to force himself to speak to her. He had cared for Dylan for quite a while, ever since they first fought. He had assumed she was out of his league, but given the way she kissed him back and the way she took some of his hair and mirrored him, maybe she wasn’t as far out of his reach as he first assumed.

But despite what he might’ve felt for Dylan, what he was starting to feel for Miranda was already far stronger. Not only had she saved his life when he was on deaths door and was letting him live in her apartment to heal, but she also respected his problems with fabric and didn’t judge him for it. She wasn’t demanding answers for anything, atleast not yet anyway, and at that very moment she was making him breakfast to help him regain his strength. If Anthony was being honest, he would’ve genuinely thought he was hallucinating because there was no way life would’ve been blessing him with this much kindness. He had fallen off a building after all, maybe this was his brain’s way of soothing him before he died from massive internal organ failure. Regardless of if this was real or not, Anthony let out a deep sigh as he leaned back into the bed, the pain starting to set back in.

Miranda, meanwhile, was still in disbelief about her current situation. Here she was making breakfast for a stranger she saved the previous night and she knew nothing about him other than his name. Plus he didn’t speak so that was something else she had to contend with. But before last night, she didn’t know what she was going to do with her life. Things had been stalled for quite a while and her depression had been worsening. She felt quite stuck in a rut life wise. And then this stranger comes out of nowhere and gives her not only something new and different, but he also helped her feel like her life was worth something. Even if it was something minor, he gave her some kind of purpose because without her, he would’ve been dead. And that thought alone made her smile as she put his breakfast on the tray and walked back to him with it.

“Here you go, handsome. Made it exactly how you said. Trust me, I know how fucking annoying it is when people make your order wrong, especially when you have sensory issues like me. There’s also some pain medication there for you as well, which I have a feeling you’ll need.” Miranda said with a warm smile as she suddenly heard her phone ringing in her back pocket, “Let me know if you need anything!” She called before leaving the room to take the call.

“Hello?”

“OH THANK FUCKING GOD, BITCH I THOUGHT HE KILLED YOU!” Darius almost screamed over the phone, causing her to yank the speaker away from her ear, “You left me hanging last night and didn’t respond yet this morning! Way to give me a heart attack!”

“Thanks for making me deaf first thing this morning, Darius, good morning to you too.” Miranda replied sarcastically, “And I’m sorry I didn’t respond yet, I’ve been dealing with our mystery man. His name is Anthony, but he hasn’t told me much else. He also doesn’t speak so we have to communicate in writing which is a little inconvenient but I can handle it.”

“You’re safe though right? Motherfucker hasn’t tried to kill you?”

“No, no he hasn’t, although he did rip a chunk of my hair out but I think that’s because he needed to stim. I have a decent hunch that he’s autistic like me.”

“There are other ways for him to stim that don’t involve hurting you.”

“And I am well aware, but I’m giving him a pass this time since he was almost dead and mildly delusional. All in all though he’s actually quite sweet, atleast from what I can tell so far. Hopefully he’s telling his friends or family where he is so they can come pick him up or something… unless he WANTS to be stuck with me until he gets back on his feet.” Miranda chuckled, “Darius I can practically HEAR you rolling your eyes over the phone. What’s going on?”

“Bitch you have a whole ass man in your house who you are feeding and clothing and you know nothing about him other than his name and that he can’t talk. You better start asking some damn questions before I come over there and ask him for you because I’m not letting that weirdo rape you or something.” Darius replied with a huff.

“We both well know that if he tried anything, I’m much stronger than I look, and I could easily take him down. There is literally nothing to worry about, Darius. I’m gonna be ok, I promise.” Miranda tried her best to soothe his fears but she knew Darius better than anyone. He would make sure that she was safe even if it meant him being annoying about it.

“Ok, just make sure you keep me updated and don’t die, that’s all I ask.” Darius said before Miranda said goodbye and hung up the phone. She peaked through the doorway into the other room and spotted Anthony practically scarfing down his food. He must not have eaten in a while and the thought that she was helping him by feeding him made her smile. However, she must’ve been louder than she thought because Anthony looked up and met her gaze.

“You doing ok?” She asked and Anthony nodded. Miranda slowly approached, sitting in the bean bag chair beside her bed and grabbing the weighted Cinnamaroll plush that was on the floor. As Anthony sipped on his coffee, he looked over at her and examined her head to toe. She was a beautiful woman, that he couldn’t deny, but her strange and childish behavior was completely contradictory to how she had acted the previous night. How could a woman be able to save his life but also hold onto such childish things? But then again, he himself could be considered strange, given his whole hair thing.

“What happened to you last night?”

Her question threw him out of his reverie, his eyes suddenly shooting up to meet her gaze as he processed her question. Miranda saw the look on his face as he stared at her. It was one of fear and regret, an expression she had seen in the mirror way too many times. Anthony paused as he thought of how to respond, grabbing the notepad and writing down his answer.

“I was saving someone. It went wrong. I almost died, but you saved me.” Miranda’s expression softened as she read his reply, her heart breaking for him.

“Did you save them?”

“Yes, but I ended up getting stabbed and fell off a building.” His answer had Miranda’s jaw dropping.

“Oh my god… well that explains the stab wound and why your ribs were broken. But how the hell did you manage to make it to the front of my club? Did you crawl or something?” At her question, the sound of his gentle laughter had a chill running down her spine. He could still make noise, and quite beautiful noise at that of his laugh was anything to go by. Miranda would do anything to hear him laugh again like that.

“I had adrenaline leftover from the fight and the fall, so I just ran for as long as I could before I collapsed in front of your building. I just got lucky that you were there.” He wrote and Miranda reached over, touching his hand. Anthony tensed for a second at her sudden touch, but he softened almost immediately. He didn’t realize how insanely touch starved he was until she grabbed his hand.

“I’m glad I was there too.” Miranda paused for a moment, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand, “Did you call anyone with the phone I gave you? Are any of your friends or family coming to pick you up?” She asked, causing Anthony to pull his hand away from her gentle touches and shake his head. She blinked in confusion and shock, cocking her head as she processed his answer.

“What do you mean no? Do you just not have their numbers or….?” Anthony started scribbling on his notepad as she was in the middle of speaking.

“No friends. No family. I’m by myself.” His answer left her stunned and heartbroken.

“I’m… I’m so sorry….” She whispered.

“It’s ok. I prefer it that way.” Anthony replied and Miranda looked up into his ice blue eyes once again.

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me your story, Mr. Mystery Man.” She joked, “Look, I don’t have anything to do today and I don’t go to work until later tonight, so you’re gonna have to deal with me atleast for today. We can talk if you want, but I’m down for just good old silence too.” She admitted, tapping the bed before getting up to change.

The rest of the day was pretty much a blur for Anthony. He was in and out of sleep due to the pain medication, which he was extremely grateful for, and the times that he was conscious, he spent them watching Miranda. It was almost like going to a zoo and examining an animal close up. He didn’t often take jobs that had women as the target, and with those he did the women he killed were nothing like Miranda. Honestly, in his eyes, he’d never met anyone like Miranda. Here was this stunningly beautiful woman with childish interests whom he assumed would’ve ran as far away from him as possible, and yet she stayed and took care of him. Not to mention the odd quirks about her he noticed. She kept playing with a ring on her finger, spinning the small metal item round and around at practically all hours. She would also chew on her own hair whenever she seemed to be in intense thought or when she was frustrated about something. The thing that Anthony was most fascinated by was the large pair of baby pink headphones she wore most of the day. They had plastic cat ears stuck to the top and he wondered if she was playing music in them or if they were being used to silence everything else.

As day turned to night, Anthony woke up yet again from one of his medication induced naps to the sound of Miranda humming. Looking over, he spotted Miranda pulling her shoulder length teal hair into a ponytail. However, the shocking thing about the sight before him was that Miranda was no longer wearing the beautiful pastels she was dressed in earlier. Now she was sporting a dark purple blouse and a pair of fitted black trousers. He sat up in bed a bit too quickly, groaning in pain and alerting Miranda.

“Morning sleepyhead.” She teased until she noticed the concerned look on his face, “What’s the matter?” Anthony immediately grabbed the notepad and paper and began writing.

“What the hell are you wearing?” His words were shakily and hastily written, and Miranda almost laughed at how quickly he had written them out of concern.

“Anthony, this is the kind of thing I wear to work. I’m a bodyguard and a security guard.” She explained, causing Anthony to relax but also raise a confused eyebrow.

“YOU’RE a security guard? You? You certainly don’t look like you’d be a successful one.” He wrote, his blunt words making Miranda smirk and cross her arms.

“That’s the whole point. It’s fun making people think I’m this weak, helpless little girl who can’t defend herself, only for me to then beat their asses within an inch of their lives.” Miranda giggled softly and Anthony stared at her in awe. He didn’t even respond as Miranda finished getting ready. He just watched her grab her things and slide on her shoes before approaching him once more.

“So I won’t be back until later tonight, but I left my phone number right here.” She tapped a small piece of paper on the side table, “I also have cameras set up around the apartment, just in case, but don’t worry I’m not spying on you naked or anything. You get some rest and I’ll see you later.” Miranda smiled and waved at him before she left the apartment, locking the door behind her. And for once in the last two days, Anthony was completely alone in Miranda’s apartment.

Despite how exhausted he was, despite how much pain he was in, Anthony was absolutely going to use this solitude to his advantage. Using every ounce of energy he had left, he stumbled out of bed and firmly grabbed onto the cane. Miranda’s apartment was decently sized, despite only housing one person. She had one bedroom, one living space, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and an absolutely tiny balcony off the bedroom space. As he began to look around, Anthony couldn’t help but laugh at how Miranda kept her apartment. Compared to the place he called home, Miranda’s home was covered in clutter. Pastels covered every square inch he could see, plushies and figurines on her shelves indicating that she had a particular fondness for the brand Sanrio. He winced as he started limping around the room, doing his best to stay upright while also keeping himself safe and examining the place from top to bottom.

Her closet was surprisingly contradictory, one half full of the rainbows and pastels that made sense, the other half all black and dark colors. Given what she walked out of the apartment wearing, he assumed those were strictly her work clothes. Anthony had a strange thought that he really didn’t like seeing her in her work clothes. When he hobbled into the living room and the kitchen area, his eyes widened in awe. There were quite a few bookshelves full to the brim with both collectibles and books of all varieties. There was also what appeared to be a small set of workout equipment in the corner which threw him for a bit of a loop. But if she was a security guard as she said, it made sense that she needed to be physically fit.

A devilish thought that he’d love to watch her work out one day flickered through his mind and made him shiver. The thought of her body moving and sweating with the effort of physical activity made him growl quietly in his chest. He stored that particular thought for later when he spotted his sliced up suit folded on the kitchen table. His suits were all bespoke, as he had plenty of money to afford them, so it was a bit heartbreaking to see one of his favorites in this condition. But luckily for him, Miranda hadn’t dug through all of his pockets, as he found his cigarettes and his lighter in his hidden pocket. He silently thanked whatever god was out there and limped to the balcony for a smoke. The odd thing, Anthony thought, was that he didn’t really pick up smoking as a stress relieving habit, he picked it up because it felt right in his mouth. He’d always had a bit of an oral fixation, so when he found cigarettes, they scratched that very specific itch he had for holding something in his mouth and his hand at the same time.

Taking a huge drag of his newly lit cigarette, Anthony looked out over the city. Despite the intense pain in his chest from the broken ribs and the stab wound, Anthony let out a sigh when he blew out the smoke. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about both Miranda and Dylan. He had saved Dylan’s life for a reason, he had kissed her believing that she was just the same level of fucked up as he was, and she had kissed him back which all but confirmed his hypothesis. But she also didn’t go looking for him after he fell. She didn’t bother to check the alley for his body after Seamus fell on top of him. She and the Angels just left him there, assuming both he and Seamus perished. Anthony made sure Seamus didn’t make it out alive, that much was certain, but when he ran out of that alley and didn’t see even a flash of her beautiful red hair, his heart broke a little. Whatever possible hope he had for them working out vanished when she did. Anthony had been completely ready to die on that sidewalk, heartbroken yet content with his life.

But he hadn’t died. He had been found by his beautiful blue haired savior. Miranda saved his life and took him in and now Anthony didn’t know what to do. He was already healing faster than a normal person, so he could probably leave in less than a week or two, but the idea of leaving Miranda alone was gnawing at him. He took another deep drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out angrily. Why was he already feeling this way over a woman he barely knew? Atleast with Dylan he knew a little about her, hell he knew exactly what both Knox and Seamus knew about her, but Miranda was a complete mystery.

And that’s when he realized that that was part of what drew him to her. She had no idea who he was. She was completely innocent and pure in all of this. None of his enemies knew she existed and no one had any eyes on her. He was also presumed dead at this point. He could fade into the shadows, live a normal life at this point if he wanted to. But Anthony didn’t want to be normal. He enjoyed being an assassin because he was able to take out the guilty and the evil people of the world that the law just let slip under the rug. He had that job for a reason and he was good at it.

But Anthony still wanted to see what Miranda was all about. And since she wasn’t on anyone’s radar, he didn’t think it’d be too bad for his career if he played the helpless victim for just a little while longer. Anthony smiled to himself at the thought of staying by Miranda’s side. She had similar quirks to his own and he liked not being alone in that regard. And as he put out his cigarette, Anthony continued to smile and shook his head. Maybe he needed a small break from his world of darkness and blood and shadows. Maybe he could use a little fun time amongst the sunlight and the pastel rainbow.

He chuckled to himself as he crawled back under Miranda’s white and pink comforter, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes before rubbing the chunk of blue hair along his cheeks to comfort him.

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all… He thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep once more.

[trulygreatfanfiction]

[CHARLIE'S ANGELS]

Wet Red

Dylan Sanders is being followed.

Though he doesn't think she realizes it. He walks so softly, blends in so well with the shadows that she can't see him when she peers back at the dark, rain-swept street.

By Syn

Teen

Here

[milton-dammers]

Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle (2003) Thin Man

[stainedlilac]

Please tell me you still draw The Thin Man/Anthony from Charlie’s Angels? I need more fanart of that gorgeous sexy man and there’s barely any out there lmao

I DO! I actually did a piece somewhat recently but haven't gotten around to posting it, based off of some photography that was done of his actor :)

[bumblegumprincess]

So, I watched Charlie's Angels(2000) and Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle (2003) and I'M OBSESSED.

Also, the Dylan/Thin man thing is a bit strange but, I actually am obsessing with it.

And, RODRIGO SANTORO IN THE SECOND ONE.

[labyrinthphanlivingafacade]

this came to me in a dream

[pascaloverx]

new chapters of babyboy (nicholas chavez x reader) and starve (marcus acacius x reader x lucius verus) are now available, soon the fanfics 'moonlight' (edward cullen x reader) and 'careless' (aegon ii x reader) will be updated too. i also wrote a fanfic with a character from crispin glover, thin man (charlie's angels), for anyone who is interested.