#garrick family

[islandtarochips]

Tiala and Gaz’s Children

Ok. I know I haven’t make any love stories about Tiala and Gaz YET. But I couldn’t help but to think about of what their future children would look like! So here is what I’ve been thinking!

Tiala’s x Gaz’s Children: Features

Emelia (eh-meh-lee-ah) Garrick - Emelia is the eldest daughter of Mr. And Mrs. Garrick. She has Tiala’s face and her hair too. She also has Gaz’s skin color.

Jessie Garrick - Jessie is the 2nd eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Garrick. She has Gaz’s face and Tiala’s hair. She also has Tiala’s skin color.

Hōne (hoh-neh) Garrick - Hōne is the middle child. The son of Mr. and Mrs. Garrick. He has Gaz’s face and his hair. Same for his skin color too.

Tiana Garrick - Tiana is the 2nd youngest daughter of Mr. And Mrs. Garrick. She has Tiala’s face and skin color with Gaz’s nose and hair (but longer).

Sina (see-nah) Garrick - Sina is the youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Garrick. The baby girl has Tiala’s nose, hair and got Gaz’s face. She also got Gaz’s skin color.

Tiala x Gaz Children’s Personality and Facts Check:

Emelia Garrick:

- She has both of her father’s and mother’s hardworking personality. Since she’s the eldest. It’s her duty and responsibility to take the role as the older child.

- Smartness is her thing. Got that from her dad. She’s also an A+ student!

-Emelia always helped out most of the time at home and at her mother's bakery shop.

- She really enjoys watching Dr. Who with her dad and would talk nonstop about it with him too!

- She also loves to learn her mother’s native language. So her mom and grandma taught her most of it and she improves it very well!

- Emelia also enjoys hearing about her mother's ancestors and would use it for her presentation most of the time.

Jessie Garrick:

- Jessie has her competitive personality from her dad. Always up for the challenge.

- She enjoys playing sports with both of her parents. Even playing Rugby with her mom.

- She’s the Captain in both rugby and volleyball for girls.

-Jessie is also a rebel against some older folks when she was a little girl. But NEVER and I mean NEVER against her parents. (Tiala had taught her one way of NOT behaving like that)

- Her favorite Uncle is Kanoa and Soap.

Hōne Garrick:

- Named after his late Uncle, Hōne.

- He has his mom’s personality of being judgmental with every person he sees. (Only if he finds them suspicious or weird)

- He even has that protective personality from BOTH of his parents. Mostly being protective with his little sister.

- You’ll be surprised when he grows up he won’t even know why most girls always swoon for him. He didn’t know that he has his dad’s charming looks.

- He always ask his grandpa (Tiala’s dad) to tell him the time when he went in the military.

- Violence is always his answer. Unless it’s necessary. (He either gets scolded by his mom or got an approval from her. His dad approves it sometimes that depends if it's the right reason.)

-Hōne also likes to hang around with his Uncle Sami or Ghost.

Tiana Garrick:

- A mute child who could only respond by writing on her board or doing British Sign Language.

- She’s a bit shy and will always stay beside either with Emelia or Hōne. Whenever her parents aren't around.

- She always gets bully most of the time because of her not speaking (Hōne has dealt with them…he needs to stop hanging with his Uncle Sami and Ghost)

- Enjoys drawing. Was planning to become an artist or making a comic.

-Aunty Agnes and Uncle Soap are her favorite people. Since the two can draw and would LOVE to teach Tiana to know more about it!

- Doesn’t really enjoy loud noises. A bit sensitive to it so she wore her headphones most of the time.

Sina Garrick:

- A baby.

- An adorable little baby.

- Who enjoy naps and being fed.

- Always cry for her mommy.

- Everyone in the family will kill anyone if she’s ever HARMED.

So after of these two getting married. Tiala had retired from being the Captain of the Marines and leave the leading of the WTF to Captain Harrison (Who he was use to be the Lieutenant). While Gaz is still serving in the SAS which leaves Tiala taking care of their kids.

Tiala and Gaz decided to move into London after their honeymoon. Somewhere near the base is at since Gaz is still active on duty. And he was always been called in so he has like a short deployment. So he had tried to spend as much time with his kids and his wife before being departed back to the base.

Meanwhile, Tiala had opened a small bakery and could finally work in peace. That her hands can now use them for making things something wonderful instead of for destroying things. She wouldn't mind for her kids to hang around in her bakery while she works.

The two had finally made a life that they'll live together forever along with their wonderful children. And Tiala had finally found a man who truly love and cared for her dearly.

And that's all I got for now! I might edit it again if I needed too! Thank you guys for reading this far! Love ya, peles!

And now, I must tag these peeps!

@alypink @welldonekhushi @revnah1406 @kaitaiga

@sleepyconfusedpotato @justasmolbard @deeptrashwitch

@dirtfullofwork @imagoddamnonionmason @mutantthedark

@raresvtm @applbottmjeens

[3amfanfiction]

You know what one of my favorite tropes is?

When reader starts dating someone in the 141 and quickly finds out that they’re a package deal.

The first time you meet the rest of them (very early on) they’re hovering around the edges, just waiting to be let into the group, like a pack of shy dogs wanting attention and to be loved but scared of demanding it, scared of frightening you away.

And then you look at all of them, truly look—at this captain who always has to be right. If he’s not right 100% of the time then people he cares about get hurt.

At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.

At this handsome sergeant, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, trying to follow in his captains footsteps, but the steps are so large he scrambles behind, always feeling like he’s never going to catch up.

At this energetic sergeant who has been shooed away again and again, never finding the person with the patience to deal with his attention. Always loud, always restless, looking forward to the next thing.

And you’re standing there looking at them—deciding if you want to let them into your home, into your life.

Because they are a unit, and you can pull one out for a short time but they will end up wound back into the twisted rope before the end.

So you do.

You let them in.

But they are dogs through and through. Pack animals to their core and you’re part of them now.

No going back from here.

[sgt-tombstone]

Thinking about the 141 attending a formal military event—some high ranking officer getting a medal or retiring or some such; Johnny isn’t paying much attention—but their attendance is required (normally when shit like this happens, the 141 either is already out of the country on assignment or can quickly arrange to be).

Unfortunately, formal attendance means that regulations suddenly matter a bit more: dress uniforms, hair cuts, the whole nine yards. For Gaz, none of it is an issue; his default state is well within regs. For Ghost it just means taking his mask off, which he submits to with little fuss or fanfare. He doesn’t even really need to shave or cut his hair because he keeps both pretty short under his mask anyway. Price refuses to cut his sideburns or moustache and somehow gets away with it because… he’s Price and even the higher-ups who care about that kind of thing are willing to make an exception for Price.

Soap, though… Soap has to shave. He might be the youngest candidate to pass SAS selection, but that’s not enough to make the brass turn a blind eye to his carefully curated hairstyle and stubble, both horrendously out of regulation. His mohawk gets cut short, not short enough to stop being a mohawk altogether, but short enough to pass it off as a less conspicuous styling. His face, though, gets shaved completely clean. He complains about it the entire time, even though he’s alone in his bathroom, ranting to his own reflection in the mirror, and the moment he steps out, Ghost and Gaz absolutely lose it laughing, having to hold on to each other for support.

They petition Price to change Johnny’s callsign to “Babyface” and maintain for months that Price was this close to agreeing (the only reason he refused is because he knew that it would get shortened to “Baby” and he didn’t want to give Ghost an official way to flirt with his boyfriend over comms)

[briarmoon1015]

Speedsters :)

[ftl-faster-than-life]

"Speedsters are boring, they're useless they just run fast."

Wrong! Jay Garrick can make sonic bombs by just hitting his helmet at the right frequency. Barry Allen can disassemble and reassemble himself molecule by molecule at will. Wally West can freeze a person in time by removing their potential kinetic energy. Bart Allen can trap entities between molecules. Eobard Thawne can age someone to dust with a touch. Literally any of them can throw a grain of sand with enough force to go through any armor you care to imagine. Speedster abilities are not only endlessly creative, they're horrifyingly OP.

[tojisun]

(quietly) oh god thinking about kyle falling in love with his new neighbour.

How he was just going to crack open a window to let the breeze in only to stop at the sight of his neighbour and her daughter dancing in the rain, twin smiles tugging at their lips as they hop around in their front lawn, feet digging into the muddy parts of their grass garden, letting the water splash out.

Laughter trickles from the two, and it tickles Kyle’s ears, filling him up with such longing he can’t even put a proper name to it.

She is the single mother who moved from another country.

Why she settled in this little suburb, Kyle doesn’t know but he’s thankful of her because there are times when he forgets about many things—himself, for one; the touch of soft blankets and the feel of warm water, for another—but somehow he always finds himself snapping back to his body at seeing her.

At hearing her.

She is beautiful. She is beyond beautiful. She is—

God, how can anyone have that much fortitude and strength and love? How can anyone see the world so optimistically; so full of wonder?

“Oh, you,” she’d murmured, shy, when Kyle had told her of his thoughts, and he watched as her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks at her quiet chuckle.

Kyle’s throat had gone parched—he has never felt this type of yearning before; one that makes him full even when he’s yet to eat anything. One that lulls him to a quiet sleep like his mind and his body have finally found their centre of gravity; like they’re no longer unyielding nor unforgiving. But kind.

Filling. Wondrous.

“It’s because of my little duckling,” she continued, eyes crinkling in her delight. She turned to her snoozing daughter. “I would have been lost without my darling Pen.”

She looked at Kyle then, smiling like he wasn’t just a kind stranger. Like he wasn’t just a nobody.

Kyle stares at the them now, his lips quivering as he watches them dance and splash and giggle to each other. Their laughter sounds like chimes. Like twinkling bells. Like what home sounds.

Kyle stares at them now, wondering if he could ever be part of their family.

(He already is. Have been, for a while now.

Penelope adores Kyle. So much so that she would not stop asking you when could she play agIn with the kind man next door.

She tells you that Kyle is so patient—not in those words, but she tells you that Kyle always asks more about her stories, and asks her who are her friends and which of her collection of toys is her favourite.

And Pen is still too young to understand the word ‘patience’ but she tells you how Kyle is nothing but.

How he never once rejects her tea time invitation, even if the tea is just bottled sweet tea and grocery store cupcakes that you were able buy that week.

How he never once asks why she doesn’t know how to tie her shoelaces, and instead teaches her time and time again. That he never gets snappy even if she keeps forgetting.

She even recounts to you how excited she had been when Kyle showed up for the dad-daughter dance hosted at her school. He’d asked for your permission then, going shy as he stuttered out his, “But I don’t want to impose and you can say no, I swear, and we can just ignore this and—”

“Kyle,” you murmured, your eyes prickling with tears. “I’d be honoured if you were there for Pen.”

He said something to you then. It was a slip of his tongue, clearly something he didn’t want you to hear, and you honoured his wishes but when a man like Kyle—

No.

When Kyle says, “I wish I can be there f’r you too.” What is the natural reaction if not to let him know that he can?

That you want him too?)

(Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He talks funny, like the many others in this new country.

Mama said it’s not nice to say that Mr. Kyle talks funny but Mr. Kyle is not angry. He just laughs with Penny, and says she should hear his best friend, Mr. Johnny, talk.

Penny is told Mr. Johnny sings more than he talks. Penny giggles at the idea of it.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He is warm and he always has toffee in his pocket for Penny.

He also laughs loud, like the one from the belly, and she thinks that his laugh fills their house with how loud it is. Mama said that Mr. Kyle laughs loud so that the monsters under Penny’s bed would leave. Penny cried and said many thanks to Mr. Kyle after that.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He…

He makes mama happy.

Not the way Penny makes mama happy. No one can make mama more happy than Penny could! But he buys her flowers and donuts and- and books! Adults are so weird.

Books are no fun.

Sometimes she wished Mr. Kyle can be her real dad.)

[mikichko]

it’s gaz who gives you the nickname wisp. and it sticks. you’re not exactly sure where it came from or what it means but it could’ve been much worse.

but the 141 know exactly why.

gaz notices first, of course. how different versions of you rotate throughout the day depending on who you're talking to. there are moments where he notices pieces of the real you coming out. telltale sign is your shoulders dropping back, not in the rigid stance usually saved for attention but in relief. like someone's snapped the string that was holding you up. those moments don't last and it's not long before your shoulder's are rigid and pinched the way someone on high alert keeps them.

in his head ghost calls you cam. short for chameleon. just like gaz he notices how you shape and mold yourself to appeal to others. you're not blending in, he realizes, you're mirroring them. reading them and reacting just how they'd like. a quip here, a smile there, a joke about some one-off thing that you'd noticed made their eyes light up. he wonders what it's like to see the real you, what you'd be like if you were in front of your own mirror. he doesn't get to ponder too long, he can see you fading as you morph

you escape out of soap's grasp so many times he thinks his nickname should be yours instead. he thinks to himself one day that it must be natural for the two of you to miss each other. to be lucky enough some days to occupy some square footage of space before you disappear through a doorway, leaving him wanting. even when you're on the same base, hell same missions sometimes, you're never close enough to him. just out of his reach.

price happens to find you when you think you're alone. just like gaz he's privy to the relaxed state of your body, rigid lines becoming softer against the worn material of the couch. he watches the way your hand strokes the skin along your clavicle, thumb pressing down into the dip of your jugular notch. there's a cloudy look to your eyes as you continue to absentmindedly soothe yourself from whatever you're dissecting in your head. he watches for a while, trying to piece together what it is you're reliving. he knows it's time for him to take his leave when your shoulders straighten, even before your eyes blink away the clouds.

you're there for a moment, before you disappear, evading their grasp.

a/n: i got crazy writers block and was trying to force myself to write my wips but instead my brain cooked this up. everyone say thank you to @buttdumplin for making me brave enough to post <3

[baohanhanesel]

Do you mean like fic recs to draw or just ideas?

For fic recs: The Road To Hell (Is Paved With Good Intentions) by @sunshowersanddandelionwine

And for ideas: Ghoap dancing in the rain!

Okay so I am forever grateful for you. I decided to just do both of your recs. Dragon Soap and his hoard. That fic is one of my favorites btw 😭 Hope @sunshowersanddandelionwine sees this 🤷

[melonlthawne]

the chosen speedster

[remiebear]

They all care for Soap 🥺🥺

.

Idk why their head shapes looks weird today sorry 😞

[of-mice-and-idiots]

every time the dc universe resets its because one of those quick little bastards got the zoomies cause they forgot to take their adhd medication and ran so fast they crashed face first into the time stream and it fucked with everyones origin story again

[islandtarochips]

DAD!

Emelia, 13 years old: Dad I’m COLD!😫

Jessie, 11 years old: Dad I’m FREEZING!🥶

Hōne, 10 years old: Dad I’m hungry.

Tiana, 5 years old as she showed Gaz her board of her squiggly writing: ”Dad I’m STARVING!”

Gaz, sweating so much: O-Ok! Ok!

Emelia: DAD!

Jessie: DAD!

Hōne: Dad.

Tiana: “DAD!”

Gaz: OK! *trying to take a deep breath*

Gaz: Can everyone stop saying DAD?

Tiala, just walked in: Everything alright, pele?

Gaz: I don’t know HOW you can handle their crying? I’m struggling over here!

Tiala, smiled a bit: When you grew up in a house with 9 brothers and taking care of your aunties and uncles including your cousins CHILDREN. I’m pretty sure I’m use to it.

Gaz: ……right. Forgot you came from a BIG family. *chuckled a bit*

Tiala: You’ll get use to it. Having 5 kids isn’t a problem.

Gaz: Hehehe. Yeah.😅 Wait…5?

Tiala: …….*showing the pregnancy test with a positive sign on it*

Tiala: Surprise?

Gaz: …..I’m somehow feel HAPPY and a bit SCARED right now.

Characters:

Tiala “Shark” Toa -> Me

Garrick Family

Inspo Vid:

[rejectedbytheempty]

i think sitting on his lap would fix me

[milkydough]

A growing family!

the names of the babies

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, stalking, use of the name "sweetheart", please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: Welcome to the underground, where secrets are currency and alliances are as fragile as glass. Part 1 of our Mafia AU story is here, ready to pull you into a world of shadowy deals, unexpected loyalties, and high-stakes drama. Step carefully, but don’t look away—you won’t want to miss a thing!

Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 1: The Hidden World

The dim lights of the bar flickered, casting a soft amber glow across worn wooden tables and well-worn stools. The low hum of the jukebox played in the background, mingling with the clink of glasses and the steady hum of conversation. The smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke hung thick in the air, a constant reminder of the bar's gritty charm. This was no high-end joint — just a dive, a haven for the forgotten and those who preferred to keep their lives in the shadows. For years, you’d been part of that rhythm, the steady beat of routine keeping the world at bay, making you feel just detached enough to avoid the spotlight.

And then they walked in.

Members of the 141 Mafia.

For months now, they’d come in like ghosts slipping through the shadows — deadly, enigmatic, and utterly out of place in the world most people knew. To the outside eye, they looked like any other patrons, but the air around them was charged, like a storm perpetually on the horizon. The kind of tension that made you realize they weren’t just men who had seen an unspoken battle, but men who carried it with them, like a weight that could never be set down. But to you, they were just regulars, faces who blended into the dim light like anyone else. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

John "Soap" MacTavish was the first to break the ice. His boyish grin and easy banter disarmed you from the start, making you forget, if only for a moment, that he was part of something darker. He’d sling a joke your way or toss a casual flirtation across the bar, a half-finished beer in hand. His carefree nature seemed almost out of place, but when you caught the flicker in his eyes — a fleeting darkness — you knew there was more to him than the easy charm. He often asked you to stay after closing for a drink, and though you’d laughed it off the first few times, lately, you found yourself lingering a little longer, drawn to the mystery behind his laugh..

Then there was Simon Riley — Ghost. Silent as a shadow, he would plant himself in the farthest corner of the bar, a hood pulled low and that eerie skull-patterned mask always hiding his face. No one dared approach him unless invited, but his eyes, constantly scanning the room, missed nothing. His mere presence sent shivers down your spine, though not from fear — it was something else, something deeper, as though he carried the weight of a hundred lives on his shoulders. Whenever Soap got too close, Ghost’s gaze would darken just a shade, his silent watch never breaking, as though ensuring nothing more than words passed between you two.

John Price was different — a man who exuded authority and a weariness that came with a lifetime of hidden battles. He’d sit at the bar nursing a tumbler of whiskey, sharing stories that sounded more like fiction than fact. 

And then there was Gaz. He brought a breath of fresh air to the heavy atmosphere. His laid-back attitude, the way he could light up the room with a joke or a quick challenge to a game of darts, made it easy to forget that he too was part of this group of regulars. He’d always laugh at your terrible aim, encouraging you despite the fact that you’d never win, but that was the charm of it. He had a way of making you feel like you were in on the joke, like you were part of their world, if only for a moment.

But tonight was different.

The bar, usually bustling at this hour on a Friday night, had grown unsettlingly still. Midnight had come and gone, and the usual hum of late-night laughter and drunken banter was absent. You were meant to take your break, but something gnawed at the back of your mind, keeping you anchored behind the bar. There was a heaviness in the air, a stillness that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t quite see.

You wiped down the counter, deciding that it’d be better to call your boss and close up  instead of standing around, casting a glance toward the door. Nothing. No one. Even the regulars had slipped away without you noticing. The quiet was unnatural, as if the bar itself had exhaled its last breath. The jukebox continued its soft, haunting melody, the only sound left in the deafening silence. As you reached for a bottle to busy yourself, your fingers brushed against something cold.

A folded piece of paper.

It sat there on the counter, exactly where an afternoon patron had been sitting earlier. Your heart thudded in your chest as you unfolded it, the jagged handwriting making it somewhat hard to read:

"I’ll see you later, sweetheart…"

Read Part 2

Part 1 just scratched the surface of what’s to come! Thanks for taking this first step into the underworld with me. The stakes are only getting higher, and Part 2 will be here before you know it!

[oocdc-tweets]

Speedsters

may have worded stuff weirdly here but i could care less tbh

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