#what a dapper lad he is

[bug-eyed-bum1234]

YEESH hes looking fresh.

Paul Dano & Brian Tyree Henry | Actors on Actors

[my-mom-named-me-duck]

i fucking love waddle doo

hes such a handsome little fellow

he looks very polite

[hippie-self-shippie]

what i find really funny about kingsley is that he wears seven variations of the same outfit

like look at this!!! it’s the exact same thing!!! cartoon character lookin ass /silly

[thatsdemko]

the devils on my shoulders - c.sainz & l.norris

threes company masterlist

masterlist

part two - coming soon

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader & Carlos sainz x fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + mentions of oral ( f + m receiving) + plot twist at the end

the tasteful dinner in front of you, is rather boring.

the cocktails and small conversations are yawn worthy, as you sit in between your father and his business partners.

they toast to another successful weekend. another yawn escapes your lips.

you’re so thankful your eyes catch something more entertaining than the snotty rich business men.

a classy pair of gentlemen dressed in suits. one dapper in black and the other in blue. one with curls and the other with soft thick brown locks.

you feel your heart pounding out of your chest. their enigma pulls you in. curiosity strikes, as you shift upward in your seat and excuse yourself.

you brush past the two gentlemen. your hand lingers on the elder looking one, and when you walk past you make sure you give him a quick glance over your shoulder.

you’ve reeled him in.

“she’s hot.”

you step up to the bar. reaching into your purse, it’s fake out move, he swoops in and slams his card down. you had no intentions of paying, either one of them wouldn’t have wasted the time, and it seems the younger one stepped up to the plate first.

“who are you?” he shifts towards you as the bartender is off with his credit card. no introductions, no nothing. he’s straight to the point.

“what do you want me to be?” you tilt your head upward to eye him when his mate steps up beside him. the one you original made a move on.

he looks over at the elder one and back at you, “what do you want from us?”

—

Carlos and Lando are their names. Formula 1 drivers are their professions. you’ve seemed to land yourself another rich snotty man men.

they were a duo— at least claimed to be a duo.

they weren’t a package deal, you visited one more often than the other but it never meant you were exclusively seeing that lad.

he’s dressed in bright orange, the other in bright red, as they enter your hotel lobby. it doesn’t take long for them to spot you, you’re in the corner booth cheering another successful weekend. that yawn escapes your lips.

“come on,” Carlos gestures for lando to follow into the hotel restaurant. they take a seat at the bar directly across from your table. they have a perfect view you in your tight mini black dress.

from the corner of your eye you see the two of them seated at the bar. both accompanied by drinks in front of them. Carlos is talking to the bartender, his index finger points at your table and you feel the heat instantly rush to your cheeks.

you can’t make out what’s being said, but when the bartender walks away from Carlos you catch him flash you a wink and settle into his seat.

“excuse me, miss,” your waitress taps your shoulder making you turn towards her. the chatter of the business men die down to hear what she has to say, “those two gentlemen sent you this drink.”

she sets the napkin down first and you recognize the handwriting on the bottom of the tiny cloth. it’s the room number that lando was staying in. Carlos must’ve wrote it down for you, like he thinks you haven’t been in that room enough times this weekend.

“tell them thank you.” you say quickly pocketing the napkin into your purse and sip on the rather strong cocktail.

your eyes flicker over at the two of them, cheeky smiles on both of their lips you’ll make them pay for.

—

“happy for you to join us.” lando’s bright smile is the first thing you see when he opens the door. you want to wipe that smile clean from the embarrassment those two gave you.

“you realize the men I was with are my dads business partners and potential clients? you could’ve got him fired!” you push past lando to find Carlos cozied up in the hotel bed, your missing pair of expensive lacy pants lay beside him neatly folded.

“ay, we’re sorry, amor.” Carlos sits up from the bed, his hand gently cups your shoulder, thumb brushing your exposed skin of your collarbone, “it won’t happen again.” his smile is sincere, and when you feel landos hand against your back you see the same look on his face.

you sigh, allowing your stiff muscles to relax, “you two are the devils on my shoulders.”

lando chuckles from beside you. he moves to the bed and tosses you the pair of panties, “you left these at Carlos’ place.”

“no I’m pretty sure I left them with you?”

“you don’t remember that night?” a smile is pulled on lando’s lips. you back away from Carlos carefully before plopping your body down onto the bed. your eyes scan the two boys trying to recall that night. there was too many nights with them.

“lando, help remind her of that night, will you?”

lando sits in the chair in the corner of the room, his hands are placed on the arms of each chair, “well we first started out here.” he wiggles his eyebrows, “you claimed it not good enough for yourself.”

you feel a fire against your skin. you can begin to recall some of the memories of that night.

“this isn’t big enough for the both of us.” you whispered in between kisses. your fingers work undoing the buttons on his shirt, “we need to move.”

“don’t forget me.” Carlos’ hands roam your body. he pulls you close into his chest, hands creeping upward towards your breasts, “did you think I’d let him have you all to himself?”

he presses his thumb gently against your nipple beginning to make circle motions with it, “so pretty you are.”

your body molds against his, butt pressing against his hardness in his pants. a whine escapes your lips while you tilt your head upward, lips sucking on his collarbone.

Carlos chuckles to himself making your head snap in his direction. he’s leaned against the wall beside lando, “what’s funny?” you press, eyebrow’s furrowed together his laughter stops.

“nothing, just remembering an important detail.”

“which is?”

“how you sucked his dick in front of me. took like the good girl you are.”

your back straightens up, the hairs on your arms stand tall. how could such filth be spit out of his mouth? you must’ve been in such a euphoric state to forget sucking landos dick or Carlos eating you out. they seemed to enjoy sharing you more than you would’ve thought.

“so what do you two want from me?” you ask. the question comes back in full circle from the very first night you met them both. the night that seemed to change everything.

Carlos looks at lando with a devilish grin, lando mocks him before turning back to you, “you into foursomes?”

“you boys and your games,” you tsk them shaking your head. it doesn’t occur to you until you stop and think about what they’re asking that they are being serious. they aren’t smirking or laughing like it’s rather a funny hypothetical. it’s very much a real question.

“what do you have in mind?”

tags: @softtdaisy @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13 @ophcelia

[theswedishpajas]

LOSING MY GODDAMN MIND!!!!! THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY OMG I LOVE HIM 💖💖💖💖💖😭💖💖💖💖💖

Little doodle I made based off of @theswedishpajas’s incredible cover of “Pure imagination”! (Minus the hat because I forgot all about it like the Silly Billy I am 🥲)

You can listen to this wonderful cover here!

[queers-gambit]

My Date With the President's Daughter

part one: Blue Bunny

prompt: your father finds out about Tangerine in the worst way during a charity gala before marauders try to rob it.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 6.3k+

note: a little Disney Channel throwback in the title anyone?

warnings: use of Irish names that DO NOT dictate race, more Mafia antics, short smut / interrupted smut (you'll see), NSFW i think, mature content, cursing, chaos and violence, weapons: guns and knives, blood. dead bodies, reader's a Daddy's Girl, abrupt ending, slight angst, more hurt and comfort i guess, author still has no idea what this plot is - revoke her internet access.

The theme of the gala that night was inspired by the Palace of Versailles; regal, royal, glittering and so very, very gold. It was held at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, the entire building rented out in preparation with three different caterers and expensive bottles of alcohol being served. The gala was THE place to be - most people vying for an invitation, everyone who was anyone in attendance; dripping in designer clothes, shoes, and jewelry that sparkled in candlelight.

Every single year for the past 25 years, your legendary father hosted a large charity event that your mother was project manager of - meaning she chose the themes, decor, and the invite list. Only elite persons (both in the public and private eye) with deep pockets were invited, knowing they'd cut a large check if they wanted your father to stay out of their business territories. So, in honor of the richer-than-rich attendees, your mother used grand and golden decorations; creating a tastefully regal atmosphere for those who didn't actually have a drop of royal blood in their veins.

You father, Fallon, meaning "leader" in the ancient Celtic language, looked as handsome and dapper as ever; his tux dry cleaned, steamed, ironed, and tailored, paired with clean and shining dress shoes that had a bright red sole. His hair was slicked back, tattoos on his neck visible from the swept-back style.

Your mother, Maeve, whose name meant "she who rules", looked like she had just walked off a runway. Her dress hugged her slender and impressive figure, the material shimmering under the soft lighting. Her heels were high, hair pinned off her neck to show off bright diamond earrings that matched the thin chain of glittering gems around her collarbones, the sparkling tennis bracelet, and the absurdly large wedding ring on her finger. Her face was lightly painted with make-up, always a woman who didn't need much - if any at all. You prayed to age as gracefully as she.

Your brother, Oisín - pronounced [Oh - Sheen] - meant "little deer"; a cheeky but shy lad at the ripe age of 10. He wore a matching tux as your father, and had an emerald broach pinned on his lapel to indicate he belonged to your family. His au pair was supposed to be watching him so you could mingle with donors, but Oisín didn't stray from your side; a wee hand holding the material of your expensive dress on your hip to keep himself from getting lost.

The gala was crowded. Large event room stifling, requiring the air be turned on. Perfume assaulting the senses in a clash of scents.

The trademark "cha-ching" sound effect echoed in your mind as you shmoozed a few guests into their donations; impressing your brother by how easy you made it look. You thanked each donor with a pretty smile and fluttering lashes, floating around the room to meet other investors; giving them your family's charity's mission statement and explained where their money would go. Most of the people in this room were seedy criminals - similar to your father - and the other few were corrupt politicians who were nestled in the criminal's pockets.

By no means was the night boring, but this was work for you; all business, no pleasure.

The decor your mother chose had a lot of glittering gold details; a few imported busts and statues, an entire wall full of sculpted grass to mimic the Palace's own garden designs; artwork hung in thick, intricate frames, bright crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The event hall was specifically chosen for the floor-to-ceiling windows, sculpted shrubbery planted around the room; banquet tables covered in white cloth and chairs made of white plush - complimenting the detailed golden accents. It was gorgeous, you were impressed by your mother's attention to detail.

You wore a dress made of fine silk, the pretty green hue complimenting your skin tone; hair left down, pinned at the sides, showing off the dangling, expensive earrings your father gifted you on your 18th birthday. You, too, wore heels that forced you to walk taller and with calculated steps; rimmed eyes darting around to ensure there wasn't any shady business transpiring. But when surrounded by people who made their living by being sketchy, it was hard to clock each and every movement; being why your father had hired a very specific (and loyal) security service.

With several checks in hand, you visited your father's banker, a mute man named Bradley, and handed them over for safe keeping; your brother able to practice his sign language. Bradley was happy to reply, your entire family versed in multiple languages, and showed the young lad his process of collecting and documenting the donations. After tallying your new checks to the grand total, he used British Sign Language to inform you and Oisín of the updated tally generated so far.

"Why does Daddy need to do this?" The young lad asked, holding your hand tightly; not being a fan of social interactions - especially to this magnitude.

"To keep business moving squeaky clean," you answered softly, smiling at a few who passed you. "Money makes the world go 'round, don't it?"

He sighed, "Do we know all these people?"

"We do, they're Daddy's associates," you nodded, "and you best believe, they all know us. See, one day, you'll learn their names and what businesses they provide, how Daddy keeps them all employed."

Oisín looked uncomfortable, wondering, "Are they dangerous? Like the guys that came for Christmas?"

You came to a halt around the edge of the room, caressing his head while being careful not to muse his hair out of place. "They're all dangerous, in their own way, yes, lovie. But," you lowered into a squat so you could look your brother in his eyes, "you'll learn, Daddy's much more dangerous. So, we host events like this t'keep everyone happy and in line, you see? It's a power play."

He nodded, glancing around the room of adults. "Do I have to stay the whole time, though? Mommy said I could invite Darrel and Kevin - they're over there," he pointed towards one of the round tables, two of his classmates laughing with their mothers standing off to the side. "And I'm hungry!"

"Oh, you're a hungry lad, is it?" You smiled, watching his head bob. "Well then, in that case, we should feed you, huh? C'mon," you straightened and offered your hand, which he took gratefully. "We'll get yah fed, sweetums, and you can hang with your friends, yeah?"

"Daddy won't be mad?"

"No, I'll tell him you did really well tonight, helping me collect donations," you winked, leading him to one of the catering tables. You made up his plate with different options, carrying it to the table his friends, Darrel and Kevin, were sat at.

The boys - who looked adorably dapper in suits and bowties - greeted your brother happily; letting you set his plate down and greet the mothers kindly to thank them for their attendance that night.

"Oh, Miss!" Your brother's au pair, Lisa, hustled up to you, "I'm so sorry, I lost track - "

"No, no, 's fine, you're all right, deep breath, love," you assured, squeezing her upper arm. "Having a good night so far?"

"Oh, it's magical, Miss, innit?" She beamed, looking around in wonder. "Never been before despite working for your family all these years, I'm grateful for your mother's invitation tonight."

"Oh, we're very happy to host yah, sweetheart," you smiled. "But, uh, you mind keepin' an eye on Oisín for me? I've gotta work a bit more. He just wants t'hang with his friends, think he's a bit tired."

"Of course," she rushed.

"I'd wager you can take him t'bed after Daddy's speech, hmm? I know he'll want Oisín here for that, at the very least."

Lisa agreed, mingling with the other mothers as you pecked Oisín's head and told him to behave, that you were gonna go back to working the gala; which he at least acknowledged before being sucked back into a card game with Darrel. You didn't mind the blow off, liking the idea that he had as normal of a life as possible - a farfetched idea considering your father ran the bloody Irish Mafia and all. He's attended three different schools since he started his educational career, so you were content to leave him with his friends; letting boys be boys.

After making another deposit to Bradley, you visited one of the modern and unique glass bars (one of three stations) while feeling somewhat dejected by the night's missing guest. But speak (or think) of the Devil and He shall appear.

"You weren't kiddin' when you said your family goes all out for events like this. Jesus fuckin' Christ," a familiar, accented voice crooned; a body saddling up to the bar beside you. You first saw his hands clasped together on the bar, recognizing the golden rings and single bracelet, smirking as your eyes lifted to meet that of Aaron - or Tangerine.

"You're late," you mused, locking eyes with the bartender and holding up two fingers; indicating you now wanted two of the drinks you ordered, him nodding.

"Sorry 'bout that, love, yeah, no, Lem and I got caught up in somethin', had ta deal, then get cleaned up for yah. Figured you wouldn't want us walkin' in here with blood on us."

"You'd be right," you hummed, red painted lips stretching in amusement as you both casually leaned on the glass bartop with your forearms. "Doesn't matter, you're here now - thank God."

"That bad, huh?"

"Not like previous years," you admitted, sending a glance over your shoulder at the group of milling socialites. "Since Daddy inducted The Agency, some traction's picked up believe it or not. Seems like a lot of people like the idea of contract killers for hire and investing in the Black Market. Seems like you lot really up the ante, don't'cha?"

"Ah," he smirked, "you're welcome, then. Happy t'be of service."

"I'll only thank you when you make a donation to the cause."

"Yeah?" He smirked. "Well, you got anywhere private for me to write a check, then, love? Can't have anyone knowin' I'm charitable, got a reputation to uphold, know what I mean?" Then he leaned in real close, lips ghosted against your ear and making a shiver shoot down your spine, "C'mon, doll, 's been 3 weeks since I've seen yah."

"I know," you sighed, "but we've been busy tonight. Plus, Daddy would kill you - like, actually kill you - 'cause he's listed you specifically for me to stay away from."

"And yet, here you are, naughty girl, huh? Disobeying orders?" He smirked and put a space between you for the sake of appearances, two glasses of whiskey set before you. "Your Daddy's been preoccupied all night, love - don't think he'd even notice if we pop out for a bit. 'Fraid to admit but if I don't get you alone soon, I might actually lose my shit, darlin', honestly."

"Aaron, sweetheart, my family is hosting this event and we're responsible for collections," you deadpanned, but smirked, "'s a bit inappropriate to abandon such an important night by sneaking off."

"Can't tell me you're not tempted."

Now, you full-on grinned, "I didn't wear panties for a reason."

"You fuckin' tease," he growled over the rim of the crystal glass. When he tasted the whiskey, he hummed in shock, looking at the amber liquid, "Fuck me, that's nice."

"My family may or may not own several distilleries. You're drinking an exquisite, 15-year ol' whiskey, love." You took your own sip, casting another look around the room, finding your brother first, still with his friends before locating your parents. They were pleasantly distracted by an ambassador, making you grin at Tangerine, "C'mon."

"Hey?" He wondered, quickly setting his half-drank glass down as you snatched his free hand to quickly lead him away. He smirked and casted a look over his shoulder, instantly meeting Lemon's eyes - finding him laughing at the pair of you, toasting his drink at his brother in impression as if he knew what you two were up to.

Thanks to Thomas the Tank Engine, Lemon definitely knew what you two were doing - being excellent at reading people.

You lead your lover out of the event hall, checking up and down the empty hall and missing the way one of the security guards clocked your escape. You lead Tangerine into the large, private, unisex bathroom; shoving him against the closed door and instantly latching onto him in a deep kiss.

He was fully prepared, catching your hips; hissing a breath in through his nose, releasing a gentle moan out of sheer relief. When you pulled back, he grinned, "Got no idea how much I fuckin' missed yah, darlin'."

"Missed you more," you whispered in a rush, arms wrapping around his neck as he simultaneously began backing you up. It was a hungry kiss; heated, passionate, teeth clanking from impact, both attempting to make up for lost time. Ever in-sync, both your mouths opened to push your tongues against one another; exchanging saliva and the taste of expensive whiskey.

"C'mere," he panted after having backed you into the sink counter, seizing hold of your silken hips and hoisting you upwards. Your mouths were never far apart, joining together once more now that you were sat at a vantage point. Your hands shoved his navy blue suit jacket from his shoulders, it being set aside to the other end of the counter while you worked on his belt. "Never goin' this long again," he mumbled into your kiss, pushing the material of your dress up to let your legs spread wider in accommodation. Your lover rushed, "Jesus, fuck, feels like forever, don't it?"

You nodded as his hands pushed under the bunched material to grip the plush meat of your thighs; giving a gentle massage before sliding them higher until he met your bare hips. The cold counter bit into your exposed flesh.

"Oh, fuck me, you really didn't wear panties?" He groaned, glancing down as he lifted silk from your lap to catch a glimpse of your bare cunt - ready to greet him.

"Had a feelin' you'd show up, you just can't stay away, can yah?" You smirked, cheekily licking his lips as his belt clattered open. "Thought you'd might appreciate it," your chuckle was swallowed by his moan as the zipper of his trousers sounded almost shrilly to your over heightened senses. "Just need you close, so fuckin' close, please, missed you, baby - "

"No idea how much I've missed you, love, fuckin' hell," he rushed, reaching into his briefs the moment you had loosened the waistband of his tailored trousers to take hold of his cock. "This ain't gonna be nice an' easy, love, yeah? All right?" He checked, feeling you slide to the edge of the counter.

"Didn't think anything else," you grinned, gasping lightly when the head of his cock swept up and down your slit. "Plenty of time for that later, just need you fuckin' close - closer than close."

"Feel how fuckin' wet you are already? Goddamnit - "

"All for you, baby, c'mon, don't tease - "

In a single motion, Tangerine sheathed himself in your warmth, grinning in mischief, "Huh? Sayin' somethin', weren't yah, doll? Go 'head, finish your sentence, 'M listening."

You only chuckled, hands holding his neck and bicep in vice grips to keep yourself anchored as close as possible to him. "Three weeks without yah, and you wanna provoke me?" You whispered, feeling him begin to thrust in agonizing movements.

"Wouldn't be me if I didn't, huh?"

You chuckled breathlessly - gasping when, suddenly, the bathroom door burst open. You were facing that way, looking up from Tangerine's shoulder, only to discover your worst fear. "Holy shit! Daddy!?" You squeaked, Tangerine jolting and cursing in a hushed tone as he instantly yanked out of your wet warmth.

"Oh, you betta be fuckin' kiddin' me," your father seethed. "The fuck is goin' on here!? What the fuck are you goin'!? Who the fuck is that - is-is-is that who I think it is?" He growled, your lover fumbling to tuck himself away and pull his trousers back together - not moving from between your legs in an effort to preserve your modesty. But he had turned slightly to give your father a glimpse of his face, making your Daddy snarl, "Oh, bloody fuckin' hell! You serious? Fuckin' Tangerine, is it? You lost your mind, girl!?"

"Daddy, please," you warbled nervously, tears of anxiety gathering.

"Get the fuck out here - now! Boff of yah's!" He commanded in a roar, stepping out of the doorway.

"Oh, holy fuck," Aaron breathed, latching his belt and looking at you with wide eyes. "Well, was nice while this lasted, huh? Gonna miss yah, pretty girl - "

"The fuck are you - "

"He's gonna fuckin' kill me, sugar," Tangerine frowned, your dress falling gracefully into place when you slid off the counter. "Your father's gonna fuckin' kill me, Goddamnit," he pulled his suit jacket back on. "Think I can make it out that window?"

"He already knows it's you, runnin' now won't help," you sniffled, shaking your head and moving for the still-opened door. "You didn't think to fucking lock the door? Jesus fuck, Aaron..."

He followed after you, meeting your father in the empty hallway outside where the gala was in full-swing. He looked enraged, jaw clenched and wide eyes ablaze, looking the both of you over in disgust. "You out of your bloody mind you stupid girl? Huh?" He demanded, "I told you - very clearly - you weren't to fuckin' see him again."

"Daddy - "

"And this is how I find out? Huh? That my daughter doesn't respect my authority or listen to my words? How the fuck do you think people would react to that? They see you disobeying and get the idea to do the same."

"I'm not yours to command - "

"You're my daughter!" Fallon barked in anger, "My only fuckin' daughter, which means, you are, indeed, mine to command - just like everyone else in this fucking organization! You understand? My word is law - "

"This isn't just some petty fling, Daddy, that I'm engaged in to pass the time! I'm in love with him!" You blurted out, eyes widening when you heard your own words and watched your father's face fall.

"Beg your pardon?" He seethed slowly. "Have you gone mental? Finally fuckin' lost it? Huh? You must be outta your Goddamn mind if you think you love this silly fuck! He doesn't love you back, Y/N, you're just a coveted prize because you're my daughter - it's a thrill to men like him! Women like you, you're just trophies! There's no authenticity - "

"With all due respect," Tangerine interrupted boldly with anger lacing his words, "but you've got it all wrong, sir. Your daughter is the most important person t'me - outside my bruva, of course. She's not a trophy to collect, she's not a dainty object for me to store onna shelf - she's not a notch on my belt. But you're right about one thing," his arm extended around your waist, "she is the most coveted prize - but that's because of who she is, not who her father is. She's my prize, yeah, because she's the end goal men search their whole lives for and for whatever reason, she fuckin' chose me. I consider it the greatest honor - "

"You got some fuckin' nerve, don't'cha?" Your father growled. "You know what, lad? Since it's evident my daughter doesn't take me seriously, maybe you'll be smart enough to heed my warning. You leave her the fuck alone or - "

"I can't do that, sir," Tan refused, "'cause like it or not, I'm mad for her. Absolutely stupid for her. I love your daughter past words, don't even think I've ever loved someone 'cause bein' with her feels so fuckin' different in comparison.

"That so?"

Tangerine nodded, other hand shoving into his pocket to toy with the cool metal of golden brass knuckles. "There's nobody in this world like your daughter, sir. Bein' in love with her is like euphoria, yeah? Makes me think back and realize how wrong I was about my feelings for anyone else 'cause of how I feel for her. I say there ain't no way I've ever loved anyone else 'cause I've never felt this way before - I've only felt this type of love with your daughter. Yeah? She's fuckin' everything to me, so, with respect, I can't stay away. I won't."

"Yeah? Yeah? Fuckin' fine. All right, sure, let's see if The Agency has anythin' t'say about this, huh? When I pull the plug on this deal, I'll be sure to tell your employers why and let them deal with you for ruining this business partnership."

"Daddy," you gasped, rushing when he turned for the event hall's doors, Aaron following swiftly. You caught the metal doors when your father yanked them open and strode into the room, doing your best to catch him before he did anything too rash. "Wait, wait, Daddy, please, just listen, listen to me - I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Didn't mean for what? Me findin' yah fuckin' in the bathroom like a desperate whore?" He snarled over his shoulder, the thick crowd slowing him.

"Well, yes, but I also didn't mean to fall in love with him! All right? But you know better than all of us that it's not a choice, it just happens! Look at you and Mum - "

He rounded on you, Tan at your flank, opening his mouth to scold you when something caught his eye behind you. You didn't have time to question him as rapid shots filled the air, a telltale sign of an automatic gun being fired in the crowded room. You flinched slightly, Tangerine instantly grabbing your waist to cover your body with his; turning to locate the threat, only to discover a gaggle of men in all black wearing ski masks and duffel bags on their shoulders.

"Friends of yours?" Tan snipped at your father, keeping you low as the crowd shrieked in panic - all trying to escape, still being shot at. This caused the seedy individuals with guns to take a stand and shoot back at the intruders, creating mass confusion and limited advantages.

"Bruv!"

"Brian," Aaron panted, people bumping into one another as they panicked in a flood of bodies. He looked down at you and then to your father, Fallon, only to find blood blooming under his white button up. "Oh, fuck," his eyes widened, gunshots still sounding, "right, we gotta move - can deal with everything else later. Here, here, here," Tangerine plucked a cloth napkin from a nearby table and shoved it over your father's wound to help staunch the bleeding.

"They got the doors, mate," Lemon shook his head when you noticed your father's wound. Luckily, it didn't appear to be in a fatal location, his hand holding pressure as the security detail were being gunned down. "The fuck do we do now?" Lemon asked over shrill shrieks.

"What we do best," Tangerine answered, pushing your father into action and brandishing his gun. "Stay close - "

"I'm not leaving without my wife and son!" Your father growled.

"Lem!"

"On it," he agreed, disappearing into the swarm of people.

Your lover kept you close, shoving through the crowd to lead towards a set of heavy metal doors. Several men stepped in your way, Tan sneering, "Right, fuck this." He opened fire.

You squeaked in shock when a different body tackled Aaron from the side to knock him out of sight, your father keeping a hold on you as straggling bodies dropped around you. "There he is!" You heard over the confusion, locating a set of men surging towards you.

There was nowhere to go, leaving you to physically block your father in a bid to protect him - not needing to when Tangerine intercepted the two threats. He didn't have his gun anymore, lost in a stampede of feet on bloody marble floors, opting to use his fists and brute strength against the robbers. The brass knuckles helped.

You had to admit, it was the perfect night to attack considering how much money Bradley was keeping track of. Plus the fact that everyone's guard was down made tonight the perfect opportunity for marauders to act against your family.

However, in a sea of confusion, you were separated from your father's side; losing him amongst the people and feeling a tight hand seize your upper arm. "I got the daughter!" The man in a ski mask informed through the visible comms system. "Moving for the south wing, bring the van around t'the alley."

"Aaron!" You begged, trying to wrangle free but discovering your strength was nothing compared to the 6'3'' goon's. "Aaron! Aaron, please! Help!"

"Shut the fuck up," the man snapped, backhanding you and never releasing his grip. A single trickle of blood oozed from one nostril as the man's ring split your bottom lip. "Fuckin' move!" He barked at you in a thick accent, "Move, bitch, let's go!"

"What do you want!? Please, just - just tell me! I can give you whatever it is - please! Fucking let go!"

Another enemy joined you, sneering, "Oi! The fuck you doin'? Don't damage the goods, fuckin' idiot, we gotta keep her in decent shape for the ransom! Fallon ain't payin' if his daughter's been assaulted - "

But a gunshot boomed and the other man's body jolted before falling flat on his back - dead with a hole in his forehead. You tried to capitalize on your captor's shock, unsuccessful, feeling blood splatter on your back from a different fallen body. You saw your father under the wing of his security, his own gun being used in defense, begging, "Daddy! Daddy, help!"

The one night you don't ensure your thigh holster's filled, of course this happens!

Fallon was only able to watch as Tangerine fought his way up to you struggling in the bulky man's grip; impressed when one contract killer engaged another. "Oi!" Tan barked, "Hands off my girl, yah fuckin' lunatic!" He threw several punches, the goon forced to release you to defend himself. Fallon watched as Tangerine waited until you were freed and a step to the side before opening fire again - killing the man who dared touch you. He realized that Tangerine had waited until you were clear to take the shot - feeling impression plant in his gut. Yet there was no time to dwell as intruders circled him.

"Oh, my God!" You whimpered, bodies left in growing pools of blood; your dress dragging in the tacky substance to paint abstract swirls on the shining floor; trying to avoid being swept up in the streams of panicking people. Your name was barked, another hand grabbing you, but this time, it was Lemon - sprayed in enemy blood.

"C'mon, doll, I got'cha!" He promised, being engaged by another robber. You sobbed in shock when an arm caught you in a headlock and forcefully drug you backwards; heeled feet scrambling in an attempt to keep up and avoid falling over.

"Lemon! Please! Fuck's sake!"

Breathing was hard to do in a headlock, dancing black spots blurring your vision slowly and your heart hammering in fear. A machine gun sounded again. The bicep tightened, dramatically limiting air.

"Fuckin' get off her, arsehole!" Recognizing Aaron's voice was a sheer relief, gasping for air when the arm constricted around your neck released suddenly. However, the momentum made you stumble to the ground at the same time for the goon's dead body to drop right next to you. His wide, dead eyes stared unseeingly at you, forcing a shiver down your spine and for your stomach to knot.

"Jesus Christ, oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God," you panted, scrambling when blood spread closer.

"C'mon, love, c'mere, c'mere," Tangerine grunted, hauling you to your feet and protectively keeping you to his side. Being in front of you now, you could note the blood on his button up, how the robber's own punches had bruised and bloodied his face; figuring you looked somewhat similar. "Right, listen please, need yah t'do somethin' for me, love," he kept a sharp eye out for other threats as he tugged up one of his trouser legs. He pulled out the gun strapped in the holster, handing it to you with the instruction, "Shoot first, answers later. Yeah? Hey?"

You nodded and accepted the weapon, unlocking the safety. "I have to find Mum and Oisín," you worried, men and women screaming as the brutal fight continued.

"Just stay close, love, 's fuckin' madhouse - FUCK!" He snapped, aiming and firing at a man racing for you two. "C'mon, we gotta move, gotta get you out of here - right to the fuck now - "

Your gun sounded, Tangerine watching another robber drop only feet away. He pushed you through the people, both with your heads on a swivel; working in tandem to clear the banquet hall of robbers and direct survivors to get out. Your curly-haired boyfriend held one of the robbers by the neck and repeatedly punching his face into a pulp after the other man had attempted to snatch you, too.

Nobody came remotely close to you again, not when Tangerine was on guard; protecting you, defending you, killing for you. The skin on his bare knuckles had split open, but Tangerine didn't even notice; he just moved on to the next threat.

Soon, the gunfire ceased, leaving a ringing in survivor's ears, and after a quick look around the room, Tangerine confirmed the threats were all eliminated - but so were several guests of the charity gala.

You gasped in guilt, hand slapping over your mouth when you nearly tripped over Lisa's body; bullet holes shredding her flesh.

"Bruv," Lemon panted, approaching the two of you and making Tan flinch. "Woah, hey, easy, 's just me," he held his hands up, your lover sighing in relief and keeping you sheltered behind him. "You two good?" Brian asked, sheen of sweat coating his skin.

"You hit, love? Hey?" Tangerine looked down at you, keeping one arm around you and his body at a protective angle. "Shit, your face - your fucking face, sweetheart, look at me, look at me, lemme see," he frowned, holstering his gun to take both your cheeks in his hands and look for other injury.

"I'm okay, promise I'm not hurt," you panted, hands trembling. "Are you two?"

"I'm good," he nodded, eyeing Lemon. "Yeah?"

"Good, yeah, I'm good," Brian confirmed, "but I got some bad news. Looks like they got the banker. I can't tell if they made off with the money or not."

"They couldn't've, we only accepted checks tonight," you explained. "No cash, no assets to steal."

"Take it that's not public knowledge," Lemon sighed. "Probably thought they could rob y'all blind in one move, thinkin' tonight would have cash donations."

You sniffled, "You seen my family?"

"Uh," Lemon looked around, nodding, "yeah, your dad's over there."

Peering around Tangerine's form, you located your father slowly stalking around the room; taking note of the dead bodies left behind, survivors clearing out into the hallways. Fallon made his way up to you three, your voice trembling, "Daddy? You all right? Where's Mum and Oisín?"

"They're safe, with the paramedics," he reported, instantly taking you in his embrace. "Ah, fuck, lost sight of yah in this mess, had me worried, girl."

"I'm sorry."

"Nah," he whispered, caressing the back of your head, "don't apologize, you ain't do nothin'." He took a breath, keeping you caressed to his shoulder, "Gotta admit, felt a helluva lot better knowin' your man had your six." You pulled back slowly, watching your father sigh and nod at the Twins, admitting, "Thank you for protectin' my daughter, don't know how t'repay yah."

"Wasn't nothin' to it, sir," Tangerine assured, adjusting his suit jacket, "just wanted to protect my woman."

"I saw," he nodded. "You boys okay?"

"Yes, sir," Lemon nodded, Tangerine doing the same.

"Very good... Then I think I owe you an apology," your father told Tan, shocking you - not knowing the last time you ever heard you father admit to an apology.

"Not necessary, sir, I understand," Tan deflected, skin glistening in a thin sheen of sweat, blood dabbed around from the robber's fists, "I'm just relieved your family's safe."

"No, listen, I was wrong," Fallon admitted, "sayin' all that shit to you - about you. You know, makin' my assumptions, goin' based on rumors. You've got a bit of a reputation, I was just tryna protect my daughter from gettin' her heart broke." He sighed, shaking his head, "Can protect her from damn near everything - except the complications of her own heart; the woes of a relationship."

"I understand, sir."

"But seein' you tonight, fightin' for her, fightin' to get back to her... I was wrong," Fallon sighed, offering his hand. When Tan shook it, your father offered, "For what it's worth, you've got my permission to... Continue whatever this is. Any lad willing t'put themselves in harms way for my girl is all right in my books."

"I appreciate that," Tangerine sniffled, meeting your eye and smirking slightly. "Your daughter means a lot t'me, swear I won't make yah regret givin' us your approval."

Fallon sighed, nodding, "Yeah, all right, good. 'Cause she's precious to me, you know? I'll fuckin' gut you if you hurt her."

"I believe it," Tan sighed, a single twinge of nervousness to his tone, "but you don't gotta worry, sir, right, 'cause last thing I want is t'hurt the woman I love. She's precious to me, too."

"Right, good, uh, well... Thank you, both, for helping tonight. Would've been a fuckin' bloodbath without yah."

You frowned, gazing around the marble floors, "Still a bloodbath, ain't it? Half our men are dead, several investors... Daddy, who the fuck were these men?"

"That's what I'm gonna find out," he growled, his surviving personnel taking note of the event-room-turned-battlefield, slowly starting to move bodies. Little known fact: the hotel had an industrial size furnace in the boiler room - somewhere your father could burn bodies without the police being tipped off.

"Th-They said something about a ransom," you told the trio in a trembling tone, "about ransoming me back to you, Daddy. Said you wouldn't pay if I was injured, so they shouldn't rough me up."

"Hey," Tan whispered, pulling you into his side securely, "don't gotta worry 'bout that - know there's nowhere for anyone to hide you that I wouldn't find."

Fallon actually liked that sentiment, watching you nod and for your lover to hold you securely and placing a kiss to your forehead. So, he asked, knowing the answer, "Can I trust you to take care of my daughter, lad?"

"Absolutely."

"Don't make me regret this."

"Not in this lifetime, sir."

"Good. I'll find you lot in the mornin', get gone."

After a brief reunion with your mother and brother, learning they were uninjured and safe, you boyfriend finally opened the door to the hotel room you two had been assigned. Lemon was right next door, and when you entered, your luggage was left on the bed for you both. It was quiet as you both cleaned up and prepared for bed; silent tears trickling down your cheeks, mind replaying the night's events over and over and over... Like a never ending nightmare.

In the shower, you sat on the floor with arms tight around your knees, Tangerine sitting with you as warm water cascaded; cocooning steam around you. Blood washed off in waves of pink, circling the drain; your boyfriend gently massaging your body with a washcloth, discovering a scattering of injury - some still open and weeping. He was forced to blink back tears when your neck revealed a significant bruise; considering it a reminder of his failure to protect you, not knowing you felt the direct opposite and knew, if he hadn't been there, things would've been much, much worse.

When you joined Aaron in bed, the silence continued. Your heads laid on plush, stark white pillows; on your sides to stare at one another with hands clasped together between you. No words were needed, no explanation or thanks necessary, neither feeling the need to speak on what happened that night. Tangerine let go of your one hand, slowly reaching out to caress your cheek and jaw, fingertip tracing soft lines; shuffling closer to rest his cut forehead on yours.

In the dark of the room, over the sounds of the humming air conditioner unit, Tangerine whispered, "I love you, doll."

"I love you, too, Aaron. Thank you for... You know, tonight... All you did."

"You being safe, in my arms, is enough thanks."

"I-I'm glad you were here."

He nodded in agreement, "So am I. Don't know what I'd of done if I wasn't - if I had t'hear about this later... If they had succeeded in snatching you. Might not have been able to forgive myself."

"Good thing we don't have to know." Your eyes danced between his, admitting, "I don't think I want t'go without you, love. I don't think I feel secure unless you're with me."

"Yeah?" He smirked slightly, "That your way of sayin' you wanna spend more time with me?"

"Might be my way of sayin' I wanna spend all my time with you," you whispered, tears glazing your eyes. "And Daddy approves, so we don't have to sneak around anymore, right?"

"Right, get yah all t'myself," Tan agreed softly. "We'll talk in the morning, sweetheart, yeah?" He stretched slightly to peck your lips, encouraging, "Get some rest, Bunny. 'S been a helluva night."

Tangerine made you feel safe, he protected you and killed for you - so while you were unsure how sleep would find you when your mind was plagued with replaying chaotic memories from that evening, you let yourself relax.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[pilot-boi]

crucial question what does your dad think of oscar…the bapby….

“I like him. Nice little guy. He’s a dapper lad. He seems very unsure of himself right now, that’s all.”

-Dad

In conclusion, he likes him :]

[octuscle]

Sun's out, guns out

After the long flight, Philip had gone back down for a nap. After his brother moved from Boston to Wyoming, they hadn't seen each other in over a year. But it was nice that they could finally spend a few days together again. And now he was looking forward to the two of them going out for a bit. Philip was showered and shaved and had put on a fresh blue button-down shirt. His brother was waiting for him in front of his computer in the study. "Dude, are you going to dinner like that?" his brother asked with a laugh. He himself was wearing an old sleeveless T-shirt, dirty jeans and cowboy boots. "Lad, this isn't Boston, and we're not going to the opera!"

Philip was a little irritated. His brother had always made a point of looking dapper in the past. But since he lived in Wyoming, he seemed to put more emphasis on big muscles. And on clothes that showed off his muscles well. Now he had gone into his bedroom, pulled some clothes out of the closet, and tossed them to Philip. "Dude, put this on or the other fellas will laugh at you."

Philip had thought it silly to go to dinner in sweatpants and an undershirt. His brother snapped a photo of him in front of the car in the evening sun before leaving. "Bro, you don't look silly, you look hot." Philip looked at the photo. Oh yeah, he was hot. He didn't wonder about his own impressive muscles. He didn't wonder about the stubble on his just-smooth chin. He also didn't wonder about the fact that he could sing along to all the country songs his brother played on the drive.

After they had a massive burger with a mountain of fries at a diner, his brother commented that Philip needed sensible shoes. "Fucking idea," Phil replied, "I'm jealous of your boots like shit." With a pair of jeans to match and a new tank top, Phil left the store with his bro after half an hour. Phil had still donated hats to both of them, now they were ready to get properly drunk with their buddies. After the second round of beers, the hair on his body started to sprout. A real man couldn't be hairy enough. After the fourth or fifth round, one of the hot chicks who had joined them asked what the tattoo on his left arm meant. Phil had never asked himself that. He was usually hammered anyway when he got inked. "Is Spanish for 'Sun's out, guns out,'" he replied, flexing his biceps.

Phil loved his job as foreman on the farm. It was work for a real outdoorsman like him. At one time he had lived in the city, too. But was only for sissies. Hard work, rodeos, beer and a good fuck in between, that was what a man needed.

Dudes, this is probably the last story that came out of the Wife Beater challenge. @changinghumans, I hope you like it. If you don't surprise me with a new challenge, I'll take a break for a few days. Happy Easter, a peaceful Passover and a blessed Ramadan to you all!

[idv-news-boi]

A few fast knocks are heard upon Laurence's door! Outside, a teen dressed in what looks like wizard robes stands, holding out a half empty basket of candy. The lad calls out the traditional saying of trick or treat, but seems oddly insistant on hearing the answer of the resident inside. What mischief could he possibly be up to?

A muffled voice can be heard from the other side of the door as the footseps get closer and closer after the knock. The person finally opens it, greeting a fella with the dapper costume. What was unexpected is that instead of the familiar blonde hair with glasses, there is a huge TV as his head- he was also wearing a new suit, matching the dark and cyan color palettes of the TV.

But of course, he ends up deciding to take off the TV, admitting that he can barely see anything when it's dark outsides-- oh, it's Laurence.

"Oh hey there! Having fun tonight?" He asks with a smile before handing out a handful of candy into the other’s bucket, "Have some of these, you lucky I got some large sized bars here~" 😋✨️

[mad3lyncline]

𝑻𝑬𝑿𝑻𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑴𝒀 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀 𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑷 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑻 – 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶 . more starters from a variety of real texts that have cursed my family group chat . adjust pronouns as necessary !

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i want you all to know that i just pooped .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] [ name ] is loving swim lessons , all the instructors wear thongs lol

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] that's fucking insane lmao

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] make sure you tell him no dick slapping anyone this year

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] alexa play slipping through my fingers by abba 😭

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] they basically went ' sometimes it be like that , don't take too much advil ' so i'm fucked .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] [ name ] wants us to call him michael jackson from now on

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i feel nothing

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i told a few of my teachers in high school that i was your sister and their eyes would glaze over like they were remembering 'nam

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i think i like sports now

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] did you just have a stroke

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i don't want anything to do with [ name ] 's ass

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] both a solid case for gun control AND the only way i'd consider golf exciting

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] this is worse than the day i found out santa wasn't real

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] bro ur 0 for 2 and the first time i didn't even know what i was doing

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] ur ass is grass

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] what a dapper young lad

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] was everyone's cats glad to see them ?

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] mom's mad at me lmao

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i know way too much about the titanic and way too little about social interaction

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] he would put on the scream costume and construct my earliest traumatic formative memories

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] imagine if you were literate

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] this thread has taken a turn for the worse

[zapreportsblog]

↱ quiet bonds ↰

➘ summary : Koji Koda and (y/n) are two of the quiets kids in class 1A who knew when alone with one another they would have so much to say

➘ summary : Koji Koda x reader, Bnha x reader

➘ a/n : this dapper young lad needs more viewing

Koji Koda and (y/n) had always been the quiet ones in Class 1-A. While the boisterous personalities of their classmates filled the air, they found solace in their shared silence. Both found comfort in observing the world around them, their thoughts often flowing more freely than their words.

Though they rarely spoke up in class, there was an unspoken understanding between them. An understanding that their quietness didn't equate to loneliness or isolation.

They were content in each other's company, finding a sense of belonging in the midst of their introverted natures.

Their bond grew stronger over time, forged during moments of shared eye contact and subtle nods of agreement during class discussions. A single look could convey a multitude of emotions, and they both found a sense of camaraderie in that.

It was after school, once the hustle and bustle of the day had faded away, that Koji and (y/n) truly came alive.

They would find themselves sitting beneath the shade of a tree in the campus courtyard, away from the noise and chaos. The serene atmosphere allowed them to let down their guard and truly be themselves.

Their conversations were a symphony of laughter, sharing stories, dreams, and their perspectives on the world. From the mundane to the profound, they explored every topic that came to mind.

Their words flowed effortlessly, unhindered by the constraints of a noisy classroom.

As they talked, Koji and (y/n) discovered common interests they had never known they shared. Their quiet nature didn't prevent them from being curious souls, eager to learn about each other's lives.

They found joy in simple pleasures: the way the wind rustled the leaves, the patterns of the clouds, and the songs of birds echoing through the air.

While their classmates might have seen them as "the quiet ones," Koji and (y/n) knew better. In each other's presence, they were anything but silent.

Their friendship was a reminder that connections could be built on more than just words – sometimes, it was the unspoken moments that carried the most weight.

As the weeks went on and the months rolled by, Koji and (y/n)'s friendship deepened. They became each other's confidants, sharing their hopes, fears, and aspirations without reservation. The quiet moments they spent together felt like a sanctuary from the world, a place where their voices could finally be heard.

One day, as they sat beneath their favorite tree, Koji turned to (y/n) with a shy smile. "You know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've always admired your ability to express so much without saying much at all."

(y/n) chuckled softly, a warm blush gracing their cheeks. "And I've always admired your kindness, Koji. You have a way of making everyone feel comfortable, even without many words."

Their exchange of compliments brought a gentle warmth to the air, solidifying the genuine bond they had formed. Despite their quiet demeanors, they had found in each other a place where their voices could flourish.

As the seasons changed, Koji and (y/n) began to take small steps beyond their comfort zones. They occasionally shared their thoughts during class discussions, offering insights that surprised their classmates and even themselves. The newfound confidence they drew from each other's presence began to ripple into other aspects of their lives.

One day, Koji proposed an idea that made (y/n)'s eyes light up. "What if we started a small nature club?" he suggested.

"We could explore the campus grounds, observe the local wildlife, and maybe even help with the school garden."

The idea resonated with (y/n), and soon enough, they had gathered a small group of like-minded classmates who shared their appreciation for the quiet beauty of the world around them.

Together, they embarked on journeys of discovery, finding their voices not only in their friendship but also in their shared passion for nature.

Their efforts didn't go unnoticed by their peers and teachers. The transformation that Koji and (y/n) had undergone was inspiring, a testament to the power of friendship and the courage to step outside of one's comfort zone.

Their classmates began to see them not just as the quiet kids, but as individuals with a unique perspective and a meaningful contribution to make.

The journey of self-discovery and friendship continued to weave its threads through their lives. Through every smile, every shared laugh, and every moment of reflection, Koji and (y/n) found a deeper connection that defied the constraints of their initial silence.

In each other's company, they had found a safe haven where they could be their true selves, where words flowed freely and unburdened by expectations.

And as they continued to explore the world around them, their voices grew stronger, their bond tighter, and their friendship an embodiment of the quiet strength that had always existed within them.

[animanightmate]

We need to talk about this bad boy

Émile Bonnaire. Adventurer, mercantile traveller, ladies’ man. Likes a drink, likes a laugh, loves to tell tall tales. Flamboyant, fun, and impressively fleshed out by the tiny, dapper, gravel-voiced charms of James Callis. Even his name derives from the French for “a good time” (or, depending where you look: “good bloodline”).

We first meet him accompanied by jaunty music on his way from the docks to a tavern, tipping his hat to interested women with a smirking flash of big, dark, pretty eyes, before roaring his intentions to pay for everyone’s drinks as he bursts through the door.

A bit of a rogue, Bonnaire. A bit of a weasel too, but a funny one. And he has an excellently aggressive wife.

Bonnaire is the kind of person who gets other people into trouble but always slips free himself. Pay attention - that’s going to be important later.

Once he’s successfully wriggled his way back into the clutches of the Musketeers, he treats Porthos (and us) to the glories of his exotic wanderings, revealing himself to be something of a liar, or just prone to exaggeration and fawning.

So far, so funny.

Except that the people he’s pissed-off have a habit of finding him, and again it’s those around him who pay the price. Our lads drag a potentially mortally wounded Porthos on to Athos’s old house and, despite comedy punching, it’s clear that things have taken a turn for the serious. The music is cluing us in, you see.

And it turns out that being beholden, duty, debts owed, and notions of family and belonging are massive themes here. As well as definitions of humanity, of who gets to be chattel. Of who gets to own the enacted tragedy.

Porthos rails and growls, and Bonnaire defends himself, claiming that the barbaric (“disgusting” - thanks, Athos) acts he’s perpetrating in the name of profit are “strictly business”. Not prejudice. Porthos spells it out for us, time and again: people are not belongings, everyone is free, no man has a right to own and dispose of another living soul. Except Bonnaire is. Except Athos has. Except the King and Richelieu do, and will. Arguably, these men who kill for duty, as Maria Bonnaire threatens for love (and is killed for revenge) are part of that same culture of disposable humanity.

The episode shows us this, asks us to consider a multi-faceted view of people and their motives and actions. People can be noble and be murderers. People can be friendly and polite, and ruthless killers. People can be charming and fun and human traffickers.

We have a problem in this fandom. A pretty big one, and frankly an old one too. Dumas, for example, seemed to be showing us an unredeemably monstrous Milady while simultaneously demonstrating that, in the society where she found herself, she had little choice - drown, or by killed for a witch, essentially. Tragic, noble, beautiful Athos drowns his sorrows under a nom de guerre, and charges at well-armed enemies in a bid to escape from a crime that d’Artagnan labels correctly as murder right from the get-go in the books. And in the show, Athos condemns Milady over and over for the sins that he himself commits, of killing at the command of the powers-that-be, forever drawn to and repulsed by a woman who shows him all-too-clearly what they both are, and have chosen to be. And yet certain facets of fandom cannot see Milady as anything but evil, and Athos as thoroughly blameless. So many adaptations (or perceptions of them) see Richelieu as nothing but a big old panto baddie and d’Artagnan as a beloved puppy who never did anything wrong. Hi. We have some things we need to address. Dumas gave us a raft of characters who are frankly horrible, selfish, violent people, every one of them flawed in some way, every one of them with issues they need to face, sins to atone for. We do the source material an injustice if we reduce them to simply Good Guys and Bad Guys.

And here, in response to an adaptation deliberately rendered for a modern audience, with dozens of layers in every interlocking scene and arc, people persist in seeing Bonnaire as a funny wee guy who was merely a bit greedy. But he’s funny and flash, so no real harm done, huh? Oh, he’s misguided, not evil! 

The late, great Terry Pratchett broke down millennia of debate by saying that evil starts by treating people as things. Oh, it may head elsewhere, become more granular and a matter of opinion, but actually it’s pretty simple: don’t treat people as commodities.

The people who watch that episode and come away uncritical Bonnaire stans stagger me. This one isn’t even subtle - not only does he leave his beloved wife to die; not only does he lie and cheat and slide away from accountability at every turn, but Porthos roars (and later mutters) an absolute and no-holds-barred, emotional and intellectual take-down of the ethical nadir, the moral pit that is perpetrating slavery. He outlines in pitiless detail what it really means to the individuals (“Men, women, and children!”). He show how the long-term effects of that abuse, even once freed, shorten a person’s life, have resounding repercussions through generations. And he must feel so alone - the others holding him back from hurting Bonnaire, Athos telling him “Yes, it’s horrible, but it’s legal, and we have our duty to take this man to the Cardinal,” before ducking out of said duty himself to go on an drinking binge epic even by his standards. The others are more sympathetic, but still follow the course set for them by their superiors.

I want to tell the Bonnaire fans: yeah, he’s supposed to be fun and funny. You’re supposed to pick up that people can be interesting and quirky and ABSOLUTELY, THOUGHTLESSLY EVIL. That evil isn’t just the simple, unattractive thuggery of Labarge et al, it’s men doing ruthless things for the good of their country or for profit or for love or for power. It’s people feeling desperate and it’s people feeling dutiful. It’s not any one thing (except, at root, commoditising people), and just because they sold the role, doesn’t mean that the actor didn’t understand that either.

This is the message that I want them to understand: evil can look pretty. Evil can be charming. Evil can seem absolutely harmless. Evil can make you laugh, feel flattered, feel affection, feel pity. Yes, there are moral grey areas in the world, but human trafficking is not, cannot, and will never be anything other than irredeemable savagery. Slavery is cruel and vile and inhumane. And just because something has never been condemned in law, does not mean it is justifiable if it diminishes lives.

And just because you find someone attractive does not mean they’re the good guy. Come on, now.

[weirdmorefics]

Can I plz request a Bridgerton!brother

who around Benedict age who very nice and charming with everyone and everyone but the Bridgerton’s thinks a flirt and a rake

Doubt

Pronouns- He/Him

Word Count- 1,193

Summary- Y/N Bridgerton announces to the family that he is going to propose to a woman and the Bridgerton family is shocked.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself for family dinner because I know this will be a rough one. Today I announce to my family that I am planning an engagement. Now that may not sound nerve racking to the average lad most families would be ecstatic. However, my family does not think of me so highly they expect that I must be some outlandish rake like my elder brothers just because I am Benedict’s twin. I’ve never understood the twinly stereotype that we must be the same since we were born on the same day. If anything we couldn’t be more different.   

Benedict has always thought with his heart and is only focused on his art I prefer to think with my brain that was until I met her. She has made me feel like no feeling I have ever felt before I want to think with my heart now. My family however assumes me to be an emotional twin of Benedict obsessed with women and hobbies. I try to prove them wrong by being kind and charming but I think it just gives them a worse impression of me.

I put on my nicest clothes and play with my hair a little to long until I am satisfied. I am determined to show my family how serious I am about this girl and it isn’t just a fling not that I would ever see a girl without an escort. I walk out of my room with a serious face to only be stopped by Colin.

“You are looking quite dapper Y/N off to see a lady?” He winks and I roll my eyes in return.

“You know I am the one who called for you all to be at family dinner,” I sigh in annoyance and hold the bridge of my nose.

“What has you knickers in a twist,” he asks.

“Nothing,”I clear my throat and brush my hands on my clothes for the millionth time. 

I walk away from Colin so he would hopefully forget this conversation and dinner will go as smooth as I plan. I make my way to the dining room and inspect the layout of the dishes the maids have set. I’ve even chosen a meal I know my family likes but doesn’t like to much so there is no arguing about how much everyone got. I have picked a royal purple table cloth to represent the riches that come with marriage not that we need her dowry. I just need to show my family that I am serious about this marriage and not the rake they think I am.

The firsts to arrive are Mother, Anthony, and Daphne. I fiddle with my hands because I can already tell that they are in a bad mood from the dirty looks that Daphne keeps shooting Anthony. I pull the chair out for Mother and Anthony makes his way to the head of the table.

“This table cloth is quite decadent I do not recall owning.” Mother ponders out loud.

“And the fine china is out. Are we having any guests tonight?” Daphne adds.

I quickly assure them that I just thought it would be nice for a family dinner and they nod wordlessly. Colin enters chasing Francesca, Hyacinth, and Gregory in. It seems like they were playing a game before they came in but Mother is quick to stop them.

“No running in the house!” She says sternly and my siblings immediately halt and make there way to the table.

Of course last to join us is Benedict and Eloise who reek of cigar smoke which only heightens my nerves because Benedict is not only setting a bad example but this will surely cause Eloise and Mother to fight.

Anthony laughs, “Nice of you two join us.”

I quickly hush him and smile, “They are here that's all that matters.”

Anthony looks at me suspiciously at my effort to keep the peace.

Mother smiles at my words, “You are so right Y/N we will hardly get any family dinners like this after Daphne is married I mean we are missing so many family dinners now due to Daphne being so busy with suitors.”

“Not that busy due to Anthony,” Daphne mumbles under her breath causing Eloise to let out a small chuckle.

I try to find a quick way to change the subject but am unfortunately to late when Anthony is quick to make a daring comment back.

“I am the man of the house you would be nowhere without me! Would you rather the twins be in charge of your season? They are to busy being rakes! They could never take care of this family the way I do! I do not understand why you are being such a brat!” Anthony’s rant feels like it goes on forever and I have to hold my head so I don’t explode due to rage.

Daphne is seething and I feel truly bad for her she is the only one who gets me in this family she takes the time to listen and I think it is because no one listens to her. She actually helped me plan this dinner even though she is busy with the season and she’s the only sibling I have told about my engagement. I just hope she can let this argument go so the dinner can go smoothly.

“Maybe I would rather have Y/N be the head of the household at least he actually listens to me!” She shouts back and I facepalm in response. This dinner is not going to be at all like I planned.

Eloise laughs at the idea and Colin is sitting very awkwardly due to the argument. I sigh knowing this argument will last all dinner so I take a deep breath and come right out with it.

“I am engaged..” I blurt out.

Benedict was mid drink but it is quickly shot out of his nose and on to the once clean table cloth. Eloise is hysterically laughing at my statement and at Benedict while Hyacinth and Gregory stare in utter shock.

Mother’s face is truly one of disappointment, “ That is not a funny joke Y/N.”

“It’s not funny because it’s true,” I say trying my best to stay composed.

“There is no way a rake like you and I Y/N can settle down,” Anthony responds.

“That is your choice to believe that but this woman makes me feel things I have never felt before they are pure feelings that I never want to get rid of. You can either accept that or not be a part of my life but that would disappointment me greatly.” I respond for once feeling heard and assured.

Mother’s eyes are tearing up, “I am proud of the man you have become I only wish you had told me about her sooner. So when can we we meet her?”

Benedict smiles widely at me “Yes, we must meet the Woman that has turned you into a lovesick fool.”

Daphne responds “Oh she surely is quite the woman.”

“YOU’VE MET HER!” The whole family says chaotically and out of sync.

Support Me Here

[lockandkeyhyena]

Anyways Ik you've received a lot of pet pictures already but here's my son James in his handsome little harness because I want to show people pictures of him very badly

(not the best picture but yeah) (Incase you can read the tag that's his dog sister's tag he just needs it temporarily in case he gets out)

AWWWW not to worry, i love seeing people’s pets! what a gorgeous lad! he looks so dapper with his harness on :)

[dystopyx-blog]

their unwilling mistress (2/4)

~Guys~

AUGUST

~ Delusional protective possessive obsessive. He qualifies for all of them except manipulative. Maybe manipulative.

~ Soft boi

~ Out of the guys, Ripley is closest to this one

~ He has been son-zoned

~ "Ripley, do you love me?" "Yes. Like a son."

~ That doesn't fuckin stop him

~ Dresses like a dapper lad, bow tie n all.

~ Good boi, a soft boi

~ "Auggie"

~ Only lets Ripley call him that, gets A N G Y when anyone else does

~ Incredibly silky soft pink hair and large coal black-brown eyes, like a cow's. Really more pupil than anything.

OSCAR

~ Protective.

~ Bitch boi abbsafbnj (Inspo: FOB)

~ Confident

~ Lil prick

~ Flirty bastard

~ You'd be lucky if he actually puts a shirt on

~ Fuckboi alert?

~ Calls August “Auggie”

~ Flirts with the other demons

~ Will say or do anything to get a reaction. Yeah. He's that bitch.

~ Messy wild unkempt pale hair and bright crimson eyes.

~ Could not give less of a shit when it comes to clothing because he thinks its stupid

~ This bastard would go naked if he could

~ (Secretly he and Rip had dated in the past)

ALISTAIR

~ Manipulative possessive.

~ Proud Prince (inspo: PATD/neg)

~ Also confident but less of a prick.

~ "I woke up like this" yeah, clearly

~ Tie undone, dress shirt's a mess and half undone, vest is falling off, shoes untied

~ Why tf is he so smug he looks like a gotdam mess

~ Still, unlike Oscar, he's a charmer

~ Even when he looks like shit.

~ Tho tbf he can't look like shit he's a gotdam demon so no matter what he looks perfect

~ "Here for a good time, not a long time." "You literally can't die wtf"

~ Drinks, smokes, and does a heccin drug even tho it won't do shit to him

~ Party demon

~ But simultaneously also shifty businessman

~ Like EXTREMELY business savvy, and is actually a pretty big deal, with his own corporation in the underworld

~ Don't make a deal with this devil -

~ Elaine and Alistair are a dangerous mix

DAMIEN

~ Protective

~ Gentleman (inspo: Tally Hall & Will Wood)

~ Always dressed to the fucking nines, tophat and all

~ A true gentleman

~ Seemingly uninterested in wooing his mistress?

~ Still refers to her as mistress tho

~ The type to kiss your hand

~ ....

~ Okay you can stop kissing my hand now, creep

~ Would make you dinner if he was allowed in the kitchen

~ Always offering to help.

~ Maybe he means it. Who knows. Ripley ain't gonna risk it

DANTE

~ Delusional

~ Charming troublemaker (inspo: 21 Pilots)

~ Always manages to break out of basement and pops up in public

~ It is as frustrating as it is baffling

~ Has the most chemistry with Ripley.

~ At least he seems to think so.

~ Casual looking clothes. T-shirt, baggy hooded sweater that loosely clings onto his body, torn jeans, combat boots, and big old headphones attached to seemingly nothing.

~ Hair and eyes are constantly shifting colors.

~ Acts pretty casual too, which is pretty fucking frustrating ngl

~ Similar to Saoirse, bit of a masochist; loves to be dominated

[taruruchi]

hi :333

🎒🚶👠 for any and all of ur three kiddos <3

HIIII AND TY KAIII

TWST fankids ask game!

4. 🎒 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How were they on their first day of school?

Answered!

10. 🚶 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ When and where did they take their first steps? (swims??? if a mer??? or i guess you technically could still do first steps)

Ohh this is hard, I'd never think abt this on my own... Okay *rubs hands together* Lia would first walk just at home, trying to reach a book. Cass would do it on a trip to the beach when he wanted to get to the water. Julian also learned to walk at the beach but because he saw his siblings running around and he wanted to join them :)

24. 👠⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What's their sense of fashion? Has it changed over time?

I'm so bad at describing outfits so I'll mostly just give pics of examples 😭😭 And idt their fashion sense would change much over time!

Lia: Idk how to describe this but it's kinda preppy ig? I seriously dk 💀 but yeah this vibe 👍

Cass: Honestly? Just soft (COUGH bf) vibe <3

Julian: He either looks like a Dapper Lad or an Average Guy