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Hi and welcome to my little roleplay blog!
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@snowandstillwaters
SHAMELESS 1.10, “Nana Gallagher Had An Affair”
doing risky shit because you lowkey wanna die
-happyface
Kitt was so tempted to drown this American in the Chao Phraya or kick his smug face in. But he wasn’t stupid enough to rush a guy pointing a gun to his head. He gave a few more exaggerated yanks of the handle, ensuring the audible thunk proved that he wasn’t screwing with him. It was just a marvel that the rough handling hadn’t set off any alarms from the car.
A crowd gathered in the distance behind Matthew as the auction house of dangerous men and women spilled out into the street. They were too far away and too obscured by other things in the alleyway to be of any help. And if Kitt had any hope of grabbing the antique hairpin without contest, he couldn’t rely on them.
‘With what, dumbass?’ Kitt bit his tongue again, wincing at his inability to look at Matthew without breaking character. ‘I mean, you have the gun. Why don’t you use the butt to smash the glass?’
If Kitt had been feeling generous, he might have made it easier. Cars like this had ways of opening without force. Electric central locking could always be worked around.
‘No, wait.’ Kitt’s shoulders dropped. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. But if he didn’t want someone overhearing this and killing them both for the antique, he had to go against his instinct. ‘Hold on.’ He checked each door just in case before getting on his back and shimmying under the chassis. His pristine white suit was definitely ruined, now.
Every moment he lay there dragged on like an eternity. The crowd out front were beginning to disperse but it also meant that some stragglers were beginning to wander.
Kitt cursed as he tried and failed again. He was starting to think smashing the window would have been the right call until he heard the telltale thunk of the doors unlocking. ‘I didn’t think bartenders could afford customs like this,’ Kitt said, dragging himself out from under the car.
When he emerged, he stood face to face with a sneering, white-toothed man aiming his gun at the back of Matthew’s head. ‘Oh look, it’s the Tancharoen kid and his foreign boytoy.’
‘Fuck.’ Kitt smiled tightly at the white-toothed man and tried to remember his name. Top always liked to call him ‘Shark’, on account of looking like his mouth was crammed with too many teeth and his love of biting his victims.
‘Why didn’t you hear him?’ Kitt glared at Matthew. They really should have just smashed the window…
Matthew couldn’t stop an ice-cold shiver from running down his spine as he felt the familiar sensation of a gun pressed against the back of his head.
While White Shirt had been busy pulling some hacking stunt under the car, the stranger had apparently managed to sneak up on him as silently as a ghost.
What a damn fine mess he’d gotten himself into...
Matthew rolled his shoulders to calm himself down, but still didn’t think it necessary to lower his own gun. It remained aimed at Kitt.
“What kind of fucked up situation is this, huh?” Out of the corner of his eye, he tried to make out the man behind him, but he couldn’t see a thing in the dark. It didn’t really matter anyway, because the guy clearly wasn’t going to help him throw Kitt into the car.
“Are you his papi, or is that your car we were trying to steal? We can talk or just let it go, you bastard.”
it’s so funny when people tell me “don’t play with me” bitch i’m fucking worse
me? using sex as a coping mechanism? it’s more likely than you think.
you know what's crazy? me, so stop playing with me.
my loved ones talking about me in a true crime documentary after I’m murdered: he was a miserable bastard. he had a way of pissing people off by standing there. the police asked if he had any enemies and we said ‘everyone’
You ruined my childhood with your filthy hands.
—M00wd
