#2 Fast 2 Furious Crime

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 2

Part One

...I ended up writing more for that Reluctant War AU...Like. Wrote this before work and started on part 3 with plans for part 4 more.

this was supposed to just be a brain worm what happened (also thank you @catastrophic-crow for the AU name <3 <3 <3 Also, also: welcome to the cult of Ancient of the Speedforce Elle! Membership includes nonsense, shenanigans and chaos haha)

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Gotham had always been a place for ghosts.

Every corner haunted by death and tragedy.

Every street stained red at least once in its many years.

Every dark shadow holding the faint shadows and shades of the dead.

Gotham was, before all else, a grave yard.

Jason had known that his entire life. Every kid born and raised in the Alley did. Death came fast to Gotham’s streets. Especially for those the rest of the city turned its back on. He did his best to lighten the reaper’s load when it came to the people that called Crime Alley home. Well, mostly. He’d certainly added names to old Death’s list before, when the occasion called.

When the armies of the dead descended upon Gotham, the only surprise Jason could feel was that those white wearing pieces of shit had dared to try and hunker down in his city.

It was a sentiment shared by most of Gotham’s fine citizens. By the city itself - herself? Something to ask later, if there was a later - even if the impossible, living shadow that rose up out of Gotham’s many dark corners was anything to go by. He knew, almost instinctively, that the entity - skin of cracked pavement, mouth a bridge suspended too wide across the face, eyes of CCTV camera lenses and body built brick by grimy, bloody brick of the sharp skyline - was Gotham. Not a ghost but something bigger, greater. Something awfully, terribly alive in all its horrible, noble glory. His city, manifest in the shape almost human beneath the green glow of the torn apart sky above.

Phantom’s armies arrived without warning as they had everywhere else, and their enemies poured out in unforgivably unmarred white suits to meet them. Horrible and garish against the Gotham streets. How they’d ever managed to slink by unnoticed while being so blatantly, clearly not of Gotham Jason wasn’t sure he’d ever know.

If either side thought this would be like the battles they fought before, they were mistaken.

Gotham was a place for Ghosts.

A place the dead piled up, lingered well beyond their deaths. A place where the rules were different from everywhere else in the world. Where crime was rampant and chaos reigned but at the end of the day people said their thanks that they were born to this hellhole and not so cursed to call anywhere else in the world home.

The dead came to fight

And Gotham, a thing so alive it was sickening to look upon, rose up to fight right along side them all.

The agents were ready and prepared for the incursion of the dead. It’d been two weeks since the first volley of attacks. Two weeks spent shoring up defenses and ramping up weapons and strategizing ways to kill what was already dead. They were, as best as they were able to be considering how endless the armies that came for them, prepared.

They weren’t prepared for Gotham.

Weren’t prepared for the city itself to rise up and take spectral, eldritch shape. Jagged building spire and shattered glass teeth bared in a snarl that spanned miles. Screaming rage in a voice made of gunfire and the concussive boom of explosions and the shrieks of a furious crowd.

Weren’t prepared for its people to ignore the gentle ushering of the dead trying to push them away to safety and instead press forward to fight shoulder to shoulder with the ghostly armies.

Weren’t prepared to have brick and bottles and trash and debris rain down upon them from the jeering living. Weren’t prepared for dirty faced children with hard eyes to light up rags stuffed into chipped beer bottles filled with gas and kerosene and throw them with more speed an accuracy than any professional baseball player. Weren’t ready for Gotham’s motley crew of terrifying Rogues to band together with the citizens they so often accosted and worried and bring down wave after wave of chaos and Goons.

Weren’t prepared for Red Hood to swap out his rubber bullets for the real deal and start mowing the fuckers in white down, his own crew at his back, the rest of the Outlaws on their way.

The Justice League was trying to find a peaceful resolution. Trying to play go between to the US Government and the infinite dead. Too wound up in US politics to side with the dead outright, too disgusted by what the American government had done to ever want to stand with them. All it had gotten them was spun wheels and confusion and the slow creeping realization that the time to try and play negotiators had well passed.

Red Hood wasn’t a member of the Justice League.

He had no obligation to try and find a way to talk things out.

What he had was a grave he’d dug his way out of, enough ammunition to arm a sizable country, and a burning need to make things right.

Gotham had always been a place for ghosts, and Jason had long accepted that he was one of them.

Haunting the streets he’d survived as a child, the city he protected as Robin, the family he’d loved and lost a thousand and one times before and after his death.

The sky cracked open above his home, and it was not an invading army that came rushing out but a native one. Friends, neighbors, strangers on the street you caught from the corner of your eye. The people of Gotham knew their own and fought for them. Only Gotham was allowed to fucked with Gotham and they’d been screwed over enough by the government themselves to know what side they were on.

He lifted his guns and fired, teeth bared in vicious satisfaction beneath his helmet as white was splattered bright red.

A hissing electric whine of a weapon, a flash of green from the edge of his vision.

“Down!”

He was thrown bodily to the cracked and ruined street beneath him, the body shielding him warm and living as one of the agent’s weapon fired a blast of energy right where he’d been a second before. He’d seen that same weapon reduce one of the raging dead to dripping green and screams of agony the dead should not be capable of making.

Before he could shove himself up and respond in kind, the body above him was in motion and the air above him cracking with the snapping-popping-roar of a gun of a much higher power than even what he had. The fucker in white that had shot at him dissolved into a mist of red viscera, body seizing and shuttering in the briefest moment it had before it was obliterated completely.

“Watch yourself.” He looked up - and up - and wondered at the lovely, fierce face he found staring down at him. “Even without shooting at them you’re Liminal enough to trip their sensors.”

She was tall enough to be an amazon, six inches in height on him at least. Body strong beneath the pitch black armor she work - as deep and dark as the depths of space, etched with starlight, a familiar crest upon her chest in the dizzying burst of a supernova - she held herself with confidence. Strands of hair the color of a warning sunrise escaped out from beneath the helm she wore, bright against her pale skin, warming the glass-sharp teal eyes that had pinned him in place.

The hand not holding the gun she’d just used to delete the asshole that had just tried to shoot him - a strange, impossible thing that made him taste lightning at the back of his throat to look at it - stretched out to help him up.

He accepted it.

Something pulsed to life in his chest. A piece forgotten where it’d been left behind, half buried in grave dirt and broken pieces of a casket he’d clawed his way out of. It burned like a hot coal in his chest, froze him with the same aching cold of a blizzard, crackled his nerves to life with lightning even as his brain popped and fried with the same sizzling energy.

On his feet, hair on end and body and Core pulsing with the need to fight, to rend and tear and scream for all done to him, his people, his home, he met the eyes of the woman before him. Her cool gaze softened, just a moment, just a second as she seemed to realize what had happened. Her hand, lighter than the armor she wore should allow it to be, tightened on his just a moment, mouth tilting from determined frown to soft understanding.

Gotham had always been a place for ghosts.

Jason had long accepted that he was one of them.

---

Part Three

[welcometololaland]

FERAL THOUGHTS ABOUT 5 X 01

(hello yes do I even still go here? don't ask questions)

- judd why are you taking that photo in landscape pls you look like an ipad aunt

- pan out shot with owen walking one way, carlos walking the other was iconic (cue craig david)

- tommy def knows tk's first name and i'm so sure it was at their wedding

- robbers are giving fast and furious love that for them hate that for austin texas

- mateo forgetting to stop the stopwatch is both a crime and incredibly relatable. takes me back to playing the stopwatch game where you used to slam your palm on the button to get the shortest time

- ASS-falt

- battering ram parallel wow I see you 1 x 01 (preparing myself for this season to be an homage to LS - i'm not crying you are)

- group assignment vibes alert! campbell and reyes

- tommy's workout clothes are slay that teal is werkin for her

- marjan RAM rodeo i'm here for it

- ring gate but it's PAUL help im screaming

- i'm gonna keep grindin because judd ryder told me to

- BABE. STOP. COME ON

- "tk you're a genius" - murder mystery husbands ugh I'm sick for it (even if tk is low-key doing it on accident)

- carlos reyes looking up through his eyelashes should be illegal

- carlos' new friend (?) calling him a pain in the ass - go off king you're right (we love u carlos)

- lou 2 does not want to eat whatever tk is giving him, is it a STICK??!

- that call was so inaudible I simply cannot what did you SAY SIR?! maybe just say "hello there's been a train derailment" next time

- UGH I AM EXCITED FOR NEXT WEEK

cc: @rmd-writes who had the unfortunate task of hearing these thoughts in real time

[enrosadiraanisaaa]

Underground Alliance

.Chapter One.

Been wanting to write a street racing fanfic with RE2 Leon for the longest time. It is loosely based on the first Fast and the Furious movie while interweaving actual events from street races from my childhood. Hopefully, some car girlies enjoy this, but even if you're not into cars, please enjoy it! It takes place in 1999 when the Racoon City incident has not occurred yet but the events are still happening. Please comment, tell me if you love it or hate it! To those who waited a long ass time or have moved on from RE, I really hope you enjoy this! And yes, I'm still planning on finishing Within Session.

This story is purely written with RE 2 (Remake) Leon in mind. Yes, my puppy dog boy is all the focus in this one.

Takes place in 1999, Racoon City is not in flames yet!

Yes, I'm terrible at uploading fast, but believe me when I will finish this with the other one!

Loosely based on the first Fast and the Furious movie with real life stories mixed in from my childhood.

I have not decided yet on the rating but expect: Car Sex, Betrayal, Penetrative Sex, Manipulation (sorta), Public Sex, Violence... And more to come!

Summary

         After a series of recent hijackings of Umbrella equipment, Leon Kennedy is sent undercover in the street racing scene to find a notorious perpetrator named to be orchestrating these attacks. Leon struggles with his visage as a street racer while upholding his own morals as a police officer. As a young street racer, you aspire to reign and topple the influence of a major corporation that has its clutches on Raccoon City. Yet, plans are thwarted when an ambitious blonde tries to join the ranks of the most skilled racer.

Please enjoy~ Anisssa أَنِيْسَة

The Colors That Mark You

“Speed, power, and pure chaos now dominate the streets of Raccoon City, a surge of street racing along with other rising trends in crime in recent months—Terri Morales with Raccoon 7 News. Sources have reported 5 hijackings of lab equipment from Umbrella Corporations within the last 3 months. Umbrella truckers are now pointing direct blame at street racers. The recent hijacking is costing Umbrella Corporations billions of dollars and threatening the careers of truckers. Raccoon City Police so far, have no comments on the surge of street racing and the unlawful seizure of Umbrella equipment during transportation. On other reports, the mysterious disappearances on Arklay Moun-” 

                  With one click of the TV remote, the screen abruptly becomes black. Every single day, the consumption of the morning news seemed to blend in with his mundane morning routine before work. The surging crime that continues to transpire around Raccoon City was nothing new to Leon. Hell, the recent murders and disappearances that occurred around the Arklay Mountains last summer are what compelled him to join the Racoon Police Department straight from the police academy.  Now, several months passed in a blur since his orientation day in September, and the adjustment in his career has been everything but exciting. Among his colleagues, Leon was regarded as the rookie, an errand boy to the other officers in his division. Nonetheless, the escalating crime pressured Leon to prove his merit.

       His fingers measly slip each button into the slits of his uniform, proceeding to adjust the blue fabric until he became content with his overall presentation. There he stood before his dresser mirror, the same worn blue eyes staring back at him while his lips managed to form a smile. Truth be told, Leon rather remained tucked under the covers to pretend there were no responsibilities that dictated his adult life. Yet, the paychecks were more than necessary to live in this measly town. Nonetheless, Leon convinced his feet to trudge right out the front door of his apartment to depart for work.

         The sight of the city welcomes Leon to the streets filled with trash, and the homeless camping at nearly every corner. Tourists would assume that the recent crime rate may have driven this city downhill, but Raccoon City was always a sore sight for its residents and outsiders. Leon often wondered if the breakup with his ex-girlfriend before moving into the city was worth the nights dowsing in alcohol. In the end, Leon achieved the career within the RPD he so sought. 

              Rock music plays on the radio while Leon manages to traverse his Jeep through morning traffic in the city. Aside from the occasional honks and cut-offs from other cars, he drove to the police station with ease. Inside the station, the lobby was nearly chaotic since the sightings of cannibals roaming the streets and parts of the mountain only escalated. Plethora of sounds from the police radios, telephones, and the chatter amongst officers only blend in an echo in the main hall. Leon had to admit the station was bustling more than usual.

          Yet, there in all her glory was the Goddess statue standing tall upholding a flag in hand to greet him every single day. 

          “Rookie!” 

   That utterance of that nickname prompts Leon to scrunch his nose, however, he whirls his attention to Eliot in the doorway of the West Office. “Lieutenant Branaugh requires your presence,” He sneered, gesturing with the tilt of his head to accompany him into Marvin Branaugh’s office. As Leon strides behind Eliot, the other officers at their desks perk their heads to glance at Leon walking past his desk. Eliot knocks on the open door to alert the lieutenant of their presence. 

        “Kennedy… the person I wanted to see this morning,” Marvin greets him once he notices the messy blend of dirty blonde hair entering his doorway. The aroma of coffee permeated the air of the small office as Leon was directly in front of his desk. 

      “Sir…” Leon addresses him immediately, his voice holding a level of utmost respect.

       “At ease rookie, take a seat,” The lieutenant extends his hand to the chair behind Leon while Eliot closes the door. Now, a certain heat crept in his uniform as the silence weighed in the enclosed office. Leon spurred thought of possible mistakes he could have made, yet none surfaced that would be worthy of reprimand. 

      “I’m sure you are aware of the rise of hijacking of Umbrella equipment in these past few months…” Marvin eyes the rookie, pulling out several files from the filing cabinet, and spreading them on his desk’s surface. 

     “The truckers are in uproar, and Umbrella is threatening to pull out of Raccoon City if nothing is done to cease the hijackings. We do not want a pharmaceutical company taking matters into their own hands….” Marvin warns, slipping out several photos and documents from the files. 

        Leon nodded along with every word, remembering the report from the morning news. “They speculated these hijackings were orchestrated by street racers…”

“That’s precise, rookie…” Marvin trails off, lining out the photos on the desk to allow Leon to view them clearly. “Which is why I am assigning you to this case…”

        Three photos were aligned perfectly beside each other on the desk. With no context, Leon would have been puzzled at the images. Two pictures displayed skid marks on the road obviously from the crime scene, and the third revealed a truck driver sustaining various bruises on his body. What kind of street racers were these? 

        “The truck drivers have described the exact modus operandi of the vehicles involved, three black 2D coupe cars with red underglows: a 1991 Toyota MR2, a 96 Mitsubishi Eclipse GSX, and a Mazda Miata MX-5. And the lab provided the latest skid marks identical from every scene, Toyo brand tires.”

   Marvin flicks his eyes to the rookie while Leon examines the contents of the images to memory. 

       “These are all JDM cars…” Leon finally comments, bringing his blue eyes to Marvin’s face.

       The lieutenant nods at the blonde’s observation, “Which is why we have indication someone from the street racing scene has organized these recent attacks. A name without a face, someone who is referred to as El Jefe…”

    El Jefe.

     “Doesn’t that mean the boss?” Leon questions, curling his pointer finger underneath his chin.

       “Yes… Kennedy, we want you to investigate him undercover in the racing scene. Pinpoint who he is, integrate into his circle and observe his activity… and reveal the identity of this bastard.” Marvin leans back into his chair, carefully lifting the coffee mug to his mouth. After a satisfied slurp, he sets the mug on his desk with a soft thud. 

     This was the ultimate opportunity for Leon to prove merit to his lieutenant and to the whole precinct. A major case of a circle of street racers responsible for the recent hijackings brought down by an undercover rookie resonated as a great headline on the front cover page of Racoon Times. Only a grin formed on Leon’s lips as his fingers ghost over the photo of the bruised truck driver. “How soon can I start this investigation, sir?”

   “How good are your driving skills, rookie?” Marvin inquires, piquing his eyebrow.

   Snickers are heard behind Leon, prompting the blonde officer to whirl his head to Eliot leaning against a tall filing cabinet. He had nearly forgotten Elliot’s presence during this debriefing. Now his fellow officer was finding means to poke fun at him.

     “This rookie may have scored excellent in everything else , but God his driving… He would crash a parked car somehow,” Eliot taunts before laughing and slapping his knee.

     Leon frowned at the officer with a flustered face and Marvin merely rolled his eyes. “That's enough Edwards, this is your partner during this whole operation.” Marvin sips his coffee, flicking his eyes between Eliot and Leon. “Since Leon is a fresh face, he would blend into the scene.”

     This comment from Marvin seemed to cause the older officer to glower, yet it was directed at Leon. “Hey! That's saying I'm old. Pretty boy here is gonna get him snuffed out like a block of cheese to a rat.” Eliot crosses his arms, slumping against the filing cabinet.

     The lieutenant adjusted his throat, ignoring the blatant complaint from his subordinate. His hands then pull out an additional two photos, two different cars. “These were confiscated a while ago from drug dealers. Now they belong to the department. Rookie, you have the first pick of your ride.”  Both cars were exotic, modded, and designed with decals. However, Leon was oblivious to the model and make of the cars. To earn the attention of El Jefe, it was crucial to learn all specs of the car. 

   “Uhh sir, I honestly don’t know what exact cars these are…” Leon trails off before taking one photo from his desk. A black car with GTR in small letters in the front along with Skyline imprinted in bold letters on the back bumper. 

   “Oh, that one? That's a Nissan R34 Skyline, imported illegally from Japan,” Marvin comments, pointing at the picture. 

     Only a tilt of Leon’s head could be noticed by the lieutenant, impelling Marvin to explain details on how a vehicle could be illegal in the states. “Certain car models like the R34 Skyline have a 25 year import rule, meaning the vehicle has to be 25 years old to be eligible to be imported to the US. It was recently passed into legislation, and you can thank the major American automakers for pushing that law into place,” Marvin clarifies, offering a smile to the rookie.

       Leon returns the smile, nodding with an understanding to the situation of the vehicle. But then the idea struck him with the Skyline.”Maybe this is the vehicle to catch the attention of El Jefe since it's so rare…”

     “Not a bad idea, Kennedy. The Skyline will be your vehicle…” Marvin nods in agreement before flicking his eyes to the other officer behind Leon. “Elliot, your vehicle is the Mitsubishi 3000GT. You boys take care of these vehicles. Tracking devices will be installed, so no funny business!”

       Elliot lets out an audible grumble for getting second pick, reaching over to swipe the other photo from Marvin’s desk. His eyes examine the body of the vehicle before peering at Leon’s pick. Another audible huff escaped through his teeth once he realized that Leon had the superior choice.

      On the other hand, a wide smile seemed to be permanently plastered on the rookie’s lips. This was his first major case, and a case that was notorious around the city. He could barely contain his excitement despite his efforts to remain professional around his colleagues. 

        “On Fridays, there are reports of organized street races around the industrial district of Raccoon City. El Jefe is one to not miss opportunities to win money, so Leon, you will attend these street races. Blend with the crowd, and the most important… Do. Not. Blow. Your. Cover,” Marvin emphasis with each syllable, and word. A pang of anxiety forms in Leon’s chest, almost squeezing the air. While he was ecstatic, this mission could go south if he was careless or cocky… Like Eliot.

    Leon assures his lieutenant with a nod,”Yes, sir. This case is important to find out the bastards who assaulted those truck drivers…”

        That assurance leads Marvin to stand from his chair with two driver licenses in his possession. His hand extends one license to Eliot and the other to Leon.

     “These are your new identities! No longer Eliot Edwards or Leon Scott Kennedy but Eliot Smith and Leon Santoro. You boys will forge an identity and stick to it.” Several heavy steps creaked the floorboards and Marvin returned to his seat.”Both of you are dismissed… the cars will be ready by the evening.” 

     Both officers nod to their superior before finally stepping outside the small office, the door softly clicking behind them. They were just assigned with a profound investigation, but not as Leon Kennedy and Eliot Edwards, but as two racers ready to join the ranks of one the most notorious street racers. Leon realized the urgency in apprehending this savage gang, especially for the safety of those truck drivers.

     Elliot huffed beside Leon, clicking his tongue as he leaned over the rookie’s shoulder near his ear. “Don’t fuck this up for both of us, rookie… or we end up missing like some of those S.T.A.R.S members in last July. Hear me?” He mutters low enough for only Leon to hear. 

      Leon’s fist clenched at his sides, staring forward despite the words whispered from behind. The audacity from Eliot…

      Eliot struts away from the rookie to his desk, a cocky smirk plastered on his face when Leon glances at him. Everyone else was oblivious to the exchanged glares between the officers, engrossed with their own stacks of paperwork on their desks. It was no surprise working with Eliot would be provoking, but Leon was determined to solve this case by any means.

        Raccoon City soon was engulfed by the darkness of night once the orange gleam from the sun soon settled down, replaced by the crescent moon in its place. The Skyline was honestly more than he could handle when he arrived at the auto shop where the car was kept. Something that Marvin failed to mention was that the driver’s seat is on the right side instead of the left and the car is a stick shift, not automatic. This was the night street racers crept out onto the desolate streets, no denying that El Jefe was probably already at one of these spots. 

        Eliot’s pick, the Mitsubishi 3000GT, was held at another auto shop in town to deter any suspicion before the partners were to meet up at the races. Pretending to not know that prick was an easy task for Leon, but he honestly desired nothing more than to be the first one to secure the trust from El Jefe. 

          As Leon traversed the Skyline from downtown Racoon City into the industrial district, his chest weighed with heaviness. Between abandoned old factory buildings, a surplus of exotic cars filled the parking lot. Various music from techno to rap blasted from speakers, cliques of people forming around them. Women dawned in mini skirts and tank tops, leaving nothing to the imagination, gyrating their bodies along with the rhythm. Leon had to use one hand to adjust his pants as he stationed the Skyline besides another car.  

     In the distance, he can hear the revs of engines and tires screeching as several cars raced. Once he stepped out from the driver’s seat, eyes were immediately on Leon. The watchers were murmuring amongst themselves, plenty of them snickering. Being a fresh face, they were hyenas scoping out who this new meat was…

      Now Leon braved a cocky smile, knowing he obviously drove in with a rare vehicle, illegal nonetheless. To fit the role of a youngster seeking to street race, he wore a simple windbreaker and jeans with high tops. 

      “Who the fuck invited this cream puff?”

 Leon ignores the blatant insult from the crowd, walking directly to one of the nearby people.

     One Hispanic bald guy with a long graphic tee with sagging pants leaning on his car, the police’s profiling of a thug off the streets. But Leon was here to make friends, no arrest yet. 

     “How long is the line to race El Jefe?” Leon inquires with no hesitation. 

     The guy scoffs, glancing around his surrounding peers with a snarky chuckle. His posse of men and women follow suit in laughter, shaking their heads. “Hey kid, this ain’t no video game. Fuck off,” He iterates, pressing his attention towards his crew.

    Well, that didn’t work, but Leon was not going to surrender to defeat. He pulls out several bands of cash from the pocket of his jacket. “Maybe this would entice him? A few grand…”

    “Please, this shit is monopoly money, but that-” The man points, gesturing to Leon’s R34 parked in the distance, “El Jefe would compete for… but that’s only if you're prepared to lose it tonight, blondie.” 

     How would Leon justify losing a $200 grand car to the man himself, El Jefe, when reporting to his superiors? If El Jefe did not humiliate or kill him, the RPD would surely have him by the badge. 

     “Consider it a race then… I’m not one to back down from a little challenge,” Leon remarks, the smirk never faltering on his lips. Deep down, the rookie knew he was bound to lose this car. 

       As on cue, the crowd suddenly disperse, almost parting like the Red Sea when a silver car slows in the middle of the street. In the distance, the revs of engines cease while everyone is in awe. People then scramble to opposite sides of the car, waiting for someone to climb out.

    “ ¡El Jefe está aquí!” One man announces, and the watchers erupt into a frenzy. 

    Leon waited there with anticipation for the boss himself to step out of his car, but he never did. The guy who Leon approached earlier walks directly to the driver’s side, the tinted window slightly ajar for the man to speak to the person inside. Then the guy directs his pointer finger at Leon in the distance, muttering words that Leon was unable to hear. 

      Leon’s palms sweat as the tension builds, the fate of his career predicted by this moment. Then the window raises up completely before the man stands in front of Leon. 

  “El Jefe wants to know how a kid like you managed to obtain that car…”

     Shit. The words from Marvin echo like a seance, and Leon has to fabricate a whole backstory. ‘…forge an identity and stick to it…’

    “My dad is in the Air Force and imported this car from Okinawa,” Leon spurred without thought and shrugged as if an illegally imported car was no big deal. 

      There were murmurs from across the crowd that observed the interlude exchange of words in anticipation of a race. Yet, Leon’s revelation of the rare vehicle only piqued an eyebrow of the man before he returned to the agape window, enough for him to relay the message. Despite the indistinct chatter, Leon already assumed a deal was being proposed.    

       The man chuckles, peeling away from the car to confront Leon once more. “El Jefe agreed to race… for the pink slip of that R34. Not too late to back out blondie, that’s of course if you’re a pussy…” He taunts, earning the snickers from the observers.

     These remarks tempted Leon to reveal his badge, vexed at the theatrics flaunted in front of everyone. But Leon held his tongue, dismissing the mockery for this one race.

      “I’m not changing my mind, I’m racing El Jefe…” 

          Once those words escape his lips, slurs and hollering heighten as the mob disperses away from El Jefe’s car. With the street cleared of bodies, Leon took the opportunity to scan the car, immediately detecting ‘Supra’ gleaming below the spoiler. If Leon had heard anything about Supras… they were fast as hell.

       His knees wobbled as he strutted to his R34, climbing inside to the driver’s side with a pounding heart. People were already disputing bets, the majority predicting his inevitable fate while a handful held ambition for the new street racer. Leon positions the Skyline alongside the left side of the Supra, halting on the poorly red spray painted line on the pavement. A woman clothed in minimal attire stands between the two cars.

     The roars from the revved engine of the Supra elicited Leon to turn his head at the tinted window, denying him the chance to glimpse the face behind the glass. It strained Leon that he was unable to identify his face. But the sudden movement from the woman standing between the two cars convinced Leon that his priority now was somehow winning this race. A red laced bra dangles from her hand like a flag, Leon now revving the engine of the rare import. In those mere seconds, it became a pissing contest on which engine revs louder. 

     Leon’s hand grips the steering wheel with vice and his other hand settles on the stick shift. ‘I got this…’ Leon mentally assures himself. Without warning, the woman tosses the crimson brassiere into the air, and the Supra instantly takes off. Tires screech, his hand shifting the stick into first gear after his foot presses into the clutch pedal. Poor hand and foot coordination led to a faulty start, stalling out before the R34 could accelerate. Boos resonate from outside his car, utterly humiliating himself before the crowd. 

   “Shit.” 

      Leon exhales through his nose, attempting to shift the gear with precision. It was playing catch-up at this point but this hiccup did not dishearten his spirit.  With a collective breath, his hands shift the gear to 1, finally accelerating the R34 beyond the red line as his ears tune in with the car's RPM. Lo and behold, his front bumper was nearly tailing the back bumper of El Jefe’s Supra.

           As soon as the blue-eyed rookie believed he had an ounce of chance to win this race, the Supra suddenly surged in speed, stranding Leon behind in seconds. Of course El Jefe spared the use of NOS until the last moment. 

     “Dammit! You son of a bitch!” Leon swears as his foot presses the gas pedal within blind panic, failing to change gears. Before his mind can comprehend what occurs, his Skyline janks until completely spinning out on the road. Even when the car ceases in motion, his blue eyes clenched shut and his hands grip the steering wheel. Eventually, his eyes flutter open while his chest heaves along with shaky breaths. Cheers in the distance ensnare the Rookie’s attention, noticing the crowd surrounding the Supra past the finish line.

      He won…

   Leon slumps his head against the steering wheel, the pounding in his ears only intensifying. In his peripheral vision, Leon notices the Supra drift directly beside the R34. Everyone follows suit around the cars, nothing abates their commemoration over El Jefe’s justified victory.

    Despite his defeat, Leon swings open the driver’s door to confront the crowd and hopefully the man himself. After a moment, the Supra’s door widens slightly, a black leather heeled boot peaking on the cold pavement. Then a second heeled boot settles beside the other with a soft click…

       The sight perplexed Leon as he tilted his head, blinking to ensure his eyes were not deceiving him. His lips parted, noticing curves… and breasts? It finally dawned on Leon when a person extended fully out of the car,  your eyes immediately locking on his blue ones with a glare.

        El Jefe is a woman…

[burninlovebutler]

Just an Intern // Part 3

pairing: austin x makeup artist!reader | word count: 8.7k-ish

warnings: angst, smut, FLUFF???, confusing arrogant asshole!austin, one bed, alcohol, hot tub 👀, fingering, play fighting, lots of dialogue, fries lore lol, truth or dare, name calling, physical altercation, yelling, screaming, crying, i am so sorry (but not really), 18+ MDNI

summary: while the set of Bikeriders remains buried under snow, you're imprisoned at the nearest ski lodge, in the last vacancy with none other than your arch nemesis. as the novelty of a packed resort wears off quickly, you find yourself on a drunken adventure led by an unexpected partner in crime... literally.

PART 1 | PART 2 | see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

vibes: just an intern spotify playlist ⛓️

Let's cause a little trouble Oh, you make me feel so weak I bet you kiss your knuckles Right before they touch my cheek

But I've got my mind, made up this time 'Cause there's a menace in my bed

Can you see his silhouette?

A glaring white morning light lulled you from your slumber. You were so warm and comfortable…. too warm and comfortable. Your eyes shot open and your body stilled completely the minute you sensed a heavy arm that was wrapped around your waist and a body pressed against your backside.

What the fuck

Last night’s events raced through your mind, remembering your transgressions with the actor vividly, but the end was quite fuzzy. All you remembered was going to shower then coming out to a completely dark room with Austin sleeping at the far edge of the twin sized bed, facing away from you. Then you slipped into bed, turned the opposite direction and fell asleep.

How the fuck did you end up being little spoon to the man that told you he’d rather rot in hell than sleep next to you. You stared at the wooden wall, following each swirl as if it would give you the answer to get out from this death trap of impending doom. You decided to take the plunge and try to slip from his grasp. A slight sleepy groan rumbled behind you made your eyes squeeze shut, like you were expecting a bomb to go off.

You knew exactly the song and dance it would ensue – some furious accusation and an insult.

Much to your surprise you felt him freeze just as you did then try to escape quietly. The realization hit that he perhaps didn’t know you were awake either. I mean realistically what would he reprimand you for? He was wrapped around you, what was he going to claim? That you forced him to play big spoon?

You chose to keep your place, taking advantage of the predisposition that you were still asleep. Besides it would give you just a sliver of peace before you had to go back to his ‘Intern’. There was a slight tug of sheets, then a cold emptiness when he pulled from the mattress.

He let out another hushed grunt then, “Fuck.” He mumbled to himself silently. You curiously opened one eye to observe him. He rounded the bed going to the dresser, tapping his fingertips across the top like he was looking for something. His hand landed on a pair of black rimmed glasses you hadn’t noticed when you went to bed in the dark. You couldn’t help but prop up a subtle brow.

Wanting to savor this little secret you stumbled upon, you decided to ‘wake up’ giving a performative stretch before cocooning yourself in the duvet. “Glasses huh?” You held back a ‘caught ya’ smirk, then a stifled giggle when you noticed him jump a tiny bit at the surprise.

He turned at the startle and instantly rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been awake not even 5 minutes and he was already annoyed with you. “Yes, I wear glasses, big whoop.”

“Well, I just didn’t know.” You tugged your bottom lip in trying not to laugh at his obviously embarrassed reaction.

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, Intern.” He spat back, turning to the phone ringing – to the tune of… Burnin Love? by Elvis? You were learning more about this man than you cared to know. He snatched his phone so fast, before it even got to the ‘hunka hunka’. Another thing he was clearly embarrassed about.

“What’s up?” While he spoke into the phone you found yourself distracted by the muscular lines of his bare back, just then noticing he was shirtless. His skin was golden and was toned like a swimmer. You followed the curvatures of his body down to were they met small dimples in his lower back then disappeared into blue stripped pajama pants.

His evidently aggravated groan snapped you out of your expedition down his body.

“Fucking great.” Bringing his hand to both temples. “We’re still fucking snowed in. We’re stuck here until tomorrow at least.”

Fuck

“I take it there are no other rooms available?”

“No Intern, obviously not, the roads are closed. Nobody can fucking leave.”

You both went your separate ways and you couldn’t have been happier, finally getting a moment to breathe and relax. There was a tiny café within the resort that you hid in most of the day taking time to catch up on the book you had been neglecting. The snow outside continued to pile up with no end in sight. Your odds of escaping Austin weren’t looking very promising. While it was what you wanted, there was a part of you – the machoistic part of you – that didn’t want it to end, just yet.

Before you knew it, it was evening and you were trying to avoid the hotel room at all costs, not wanting to risk running into Austin. So, you found yourself at the same bar from the Landon incident yesterday. You pressed your palms against the bar ledge that was littered with your coworkers, including Landon out of the corner of your eye. He sent a chill up your spine, but he seemed distracted by some giggly extra.

“Vodka soda please.” You ordered from the rather attractive bar tender. Maybe you could end up in someone else’s bed that night, maybe it would stave off the remnants Austin’s touch left on you. Regardless you had a mission - getting fucking wasted. How else were you supposed to deal with the confusion clouding in your head?

About 2 vodka sodas in, an aggravated sigh came from your left, “You would be here.” Said the exact voice you were trying to elude.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You rolled your eyes turning to him. He wore a plain black shirt that hugged his toned arms, tight dark denim jeans and leather boots.

He shrugged, “You just would.” Evading the question. “I guess I don’t blame you, there’s nothing else open in here at night.”

“Exactly.” You agreed taking a sip of your third drink, sending a warmth through your veins, then down to your core at the sight of his skilled fingers wrapped around a half-drank bourbon on the rocks.

“Last call!” Boomed from the tattooed bar tender.

“What?” You questioned, surprised. You tapped your phone screen to wake the time, “What, it’s only 12?”

“Bar closes at 12 on Sundays.” The worker informed, beginning his closing duties by wiping down the counter.

“Augh.” Austin groaned easily downing the remainder of his drink and harshly landed it on the bar. Without another word he was already out the door, likely at one of the cast’s room parties that had been going on.

You were in no rush to be alone in a hotel room but after a stroll through an uneventful empty lobby you decided to call it a night.

Opening the door to your room you noticed something that had been hiding behind a curtain, a wide open door. Being under the impression that the actor would be in some room party, you hesitantly tiptoed across the room. Your mind ping-ponged between the possibilities.

Maybe a resident had found the wrong room

Maybe you found the wrong room

Maybe the door hadn’t been locked and was swung open by the vicious snowy winds

Maybe it was a ghost

Finally at the door you peered through it from the edge to find… a hot tub? The jetted pool sat on a wooden platform covered by the room above’s balcony. And there sat the asshole right in the middle with another full drink in his grasp.

“Where have you been!” The blonde called out in a playful tune, the alcohol evidently taken over his body. “Did you know we have a hot tub?” His voice almost excited.

“Uh…” The entire scene threw you completely off, you’d never so much as seen this man smile and now, he was lightly playing in the water. “Am I hallucinating or are you actually having a good time?”

“C’mon get in here.” He gestured to join him hurriedly, ignoring your question.

“Austin it’s fucking freezing, you’re insane.” You thought he was even crazier when you realized that he was shirtless, because what else would you wear in a jacuzzi. “I’m not getting in there.” Shaking your head vehemently.

“It’s warm in here c’mon.” His gestures even more exaggerated through the steam that brewed above the water.

You shifted from one foot to another and chewed on your lip weighing your options. What else were you going to do? And who were you to turn down a hot tub?

“Augh fine.” You huffed, peeling your shirt over your head and unzipping then dropping your jeans. A blast of cold wind hit your bare body, covered only in a bra and panties. Your arms immediately wrapped around yourself shivering as you shuffled across the wood slats and up the short stairs.

You let out a relieved sigh once your shoulders were below the warm water across from him. “You’re fucking crazy.”

He gave you his signature eye roll, “Loosen up will ya? You’re always so stiff.”

You couldn’t help but let out loud scoff, “Me? Nah, that’s all you Actor.”

He let a chuckle as he lulled his head back, his arms resting on the edge of the tub. “Yeah, I guess I could stand to loosen up a little.”

“That’s a fucking understatement.” The edges of your lips tied into a smile.

“Hey,” He furrowed his thick brows at you, his face only illuminated by the blue tone of the pool. “That’s not very nice.” A light flick of water propelled at you from his fingertips.

“Hey!” You dodged the attack, “That wasn’t very nice.” Splashing warm water back at him.

“Oh, I don’t think you wanna play this game, Intern.” He brows propped up throwing another wave of water at you.

“Oh, I think I do Actor.” Swimming diagonal from him giving you a new angle to battle him with a rush of water.

He feigned surprise, “You’re goin’ down.” Mimicking your actions, getting you good that time, soaking you completely.

A giggle left your mouth as you attempted to swim in the opposite direction splashing him back once more. You heard another foreign laugh from him matching yours. “No, you’re goin’ down buddy.”

In some miscalculation you ended up near him and mid splashing war you felt familiar sizable hands take hold of your waist pulling you into his lap.

What kinda twilight zone were you in when this menace was play fighting and giggling with you?

After the initial stun of the move, you caught your breath your eyes meeting his. The ebbing waves from the tub reflected into his aqua eyes, the ripples of the water seemed to swim in them.

Silence fell between you both as the laughter had dissipated and the only communication was in your stare. You tried to place his thoughts by analyzing his eyes. At that point you had gotten fairly good at reading him though this sight was new, and you had no clue at what was behind it.

His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, the proximity of him now very apparent. The scent of bourbon laid thick on his breath. Your own air lodged in your throat as you took in the sight of him. Under the glow of the moon, he looked so soft, a lens you’d never seen him through before. He was so exquisite like that - flushed rosy cheeks, drunken glossy eyes and all.

Your entire body froze when his lips met yours, his arms wrapping around your torso. Whether it was the alcohol, the moon or your genuine desire, something let yourself melt into it fully. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss. You expected him to escalate it with his tongue the way he did before, but he didn’t, his lips just took yours in completely.

You decided to take the plunge and slide your tongue against his bottom lip asking for entrance and he complied. His hands slid up your sides pulling you closer and your hands tangled into the little curls at the nape of his neck. The entire experience was different than any other time you’d hooked up with him, it mirrored his current demeanor – soft, gentle. He wasn’t groping and squeezing like he normally did, he just held you as your tongues danced together.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and found a not surprising prominent bulge beneath you. A groan rumbled in his chest when you pressed your panty-covered warmth against his boxer-covered erection.

As you grinded against him, the feeling of his tip nudging your bundle made you so desperate to relieve the rampant buzzing in your core. It was making you weak and was distracting you from the kiss. You reluctantly pulled from his soft lips and fell onto his shoulder letting out tiny whimpers as he rocked his hips against you.

He pressed full kisses in the curvature of your neck causing a churning in your tummy that wasn’t arousal, but something different. Something familiar but you couldn’t quite place. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled into your shoulder, his voice deep and dripping in liquor.

A short breathy whimper involuntarily escaped you, “You think so?” Your inner voice taking no time in reprimanding you for seeking validation from such a douchebag. His names for you weren’t normally so kind, nevertheless a compliment.

“Mhm,” He hummed against your shoulder, his hand tangling in your hair as he peppered kisses across your skin. “The prettiest.” He whispered below your ear, unleashing a kaleidoscope of butterflies throughout your chest, your ribcage locking them in. You knew it was the alcohol talking but you clung to every word.

You were so needy for him that only small moans left your mouth, “Please Austin, I need your cock.” You breathed out, your heart beating so hard you thought it might pop out. Your hips rutted against his length the wet material of your panties allowing your lips to part around his shaft, teasing him with your entrance. “Please?” Exaggerating your whine.

He groaned at your actions, fingers harshly digging into your thighs. “No.” He said simply, his touch now gliding up your thighs, “Let me take care of you.”

His response took you by surprise, “W-what?” You stuttered but didn’t pull from him. A hand drew up your inner thigh, scorching the skin it passed, then fingers up your panties.

“Let me take care of you baby.” He repeated, his fingertips easily pulling your panties to the side and rolled the pads of his fingers around your clit. A gasp left your lips at the sudden pleasure.

“Fuck.” You faintly muttered against his neck and leaned into his touch. “Please. I need you.” Your right hand tugging at his hair and the left curling into his shoulder.

“I wanna try something, do you trust me?” He asked, the question throwing you off, both at what he could possibly be thinking and whether you knew the answer. It occurred to you that it was the second time he’d asked you that impossible question, the first time in the saloon on set. You wondered on what planet he was living on where he had given you any reason to trust him. If anything, he should be the last person on earth to trust. And yet, you lied, “Hm- Yes.” Curious to find out his idea.

He purred against your shoulder and gently lifted your hips off of him then placed you across his lap. With one hand he slid your panties down your legs and draped it over the edge of the pool. You held onto him by an arm around his neck as his hand slid up your thighs again and spread them wide.

The pads of his fingers once again found your core, rounding your swollen nub then down dipping into your entrance. “Fuck.” You breathed out as his digits curled into your sweet spot. You let him float you to the edge of the tub, it was unclear to you why until you felt the strong stream of water from one of the jets. A sharp gasp fell from your lips at the immediate pressure.

“Oh my god,” Your chest was heaving, and your nails dug into his back. While the jet took care of your clit, his fingers were taking care of your core, fucking you in a way you never thought fingers could. It was rhythmic like a choreographed dance, every pump into your pussy landed in a curl into your g-spot and you never knew you could feel so much pleasure from so many areas at once. Your heart was thumping in your throat with a tight knot in your stomach threatening you to unravel already. “Oh my god Austin.”

“I know baby, I know.” He continued his plight on your neck, trailing passionate kisses all over it. “Feels good doesn’t it?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah- Fuck.” You could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears. His little experiment with you was overriding every nerve, waves of tingling pleasure washing through you, even causing your toes to curl. “Fuck Aus, I’m close I’m so fucking close.” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut barely holding on to your sanity. The bliss was practically numbing your brain, every thought was him, only him. His eyes that could make you wet with just one look, his plump lips that stamped kisses all over you, his skilled tongue against your own and even better on your clit, the curve of his neck and collar bone where you’d place your own kisses, his agile hips that allowed him to drill his perfect fucking cock into you. Right then you could’ve sworn he was some Greek god from the insurmountable euphoria that possessed your body.

His mouth pulled your skin into a suck while his tongue swirled over the darkening spot. “Let it out baby c’mon, cum for me.” His deep voice rumbled against your neck. That and a perfectly synchronized hit of the jet stream on your throbbing bundle and his fingers curved into you, set off your climax. The height of your orgasm ripped through you so violently that your moans were completely silent – which you we’re grateful for because you knew your coworkers were just above you. Your nails dug into his shoulder and your thighs clamped around his hand and you heard him let out a sort of entertained chuckle. If you weren’t underwater your juices most definitely would’ve soaked his thigh completely.

Once fully spent, you fell limp on his chest, heavy breaths flowing into his neck, “Fuck.” You murmured. His arm curled around your waist, pulling you closer against him. The act was so intimate compared to… well any other interaction you’d had with him. He was always so cold and rigid, now he was tender and warm. You blinked up at him, his focus on the stars above you. Even his moonlit features were soft compared to his normal sharp edges. “You sure like to use water fixtures as sex toys huh.” You tugged a lip between your teeth hoping the joke would land.

He took a moment to respond, his brows scrunching together before looking down at you, “Huh?”

You let out a tiny giggle, “Because the faucet on set-“

“Oh oh, yeah!” He boomed a drunken laugh straight from deep in his chest, “Yeah, I guess I do.” Looking down at you, for a moment you couldn’t tell the difference between the stary midnight sky behind him and the twinkling navy in his eyes. “Did you not like it? Because it seemed like you did-“ His voice sounded almost insecure, as if he was worried about disappointing you. The hint of insecurity echoed the one from earlier in the hotel room, about his glasses.

“No, no I definitely do.” You laughed, pulling yourself up to wrap both arms around his neck, straddling him once again. “I’ve just never been with someone so… innovative.” Your lips pressed together to stifle a chuckle.

The joke earned you another hearty laugh from the glowing blonde, which made you realize you’d barely heard him laugh before, nonetheless smile. And right now, he was a grinning mess, and he hadn’t even cum. From the lack of stiffness beneath you it seemed that the alcohol had taken its toll. Under any other circumstances, if there was a more competitive game at play, you would’ve tried your hardest to return the favor. But he was giggly and touchy and the nicest you’d ever seen him, you didn’t want to cut it short, so you laid against his shoulder again just taking in his breathing.

“You’re pretty funny.” He said once he caught his breath from laughing.

“Yeah?” You blushed and a giant grin pulled at your lip’s edges, for some reason you felt embarrassed and hid further into his neck. “I’m glad you think so.” You whispered beneath his ear and molded your body further around his, taking advantage of his warmth. He reciprocated, wrapping you up in his arms.

Silence fell for what felt like an eternity and you thought for sure the moment was about to end, and this unicorn version of asshole actor would disappear. But he surprised you yet again.

“I’m hungry.” He stated simply, “I want fries.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “What?”

“I want fries!” He repeated, matter-of-factly. “We should go get fries.”

“Austin, where the fuck are we gonna get fries? The kitchens are closed and it’s not like we can DoorDash in a snowstorm.” You stated the obvious, sitting up in his lap.

You watched the gears churning in his head as if it was a difficult equation before the most mischievous playful smirk spread across his face. Immediately you knew it couldn’t mean anything good. “Austin,” You warned, propping up a cautious eyebrow, “What are you thinking.”

He practically threw you off of him, landing you to be floating alone in what now seemed like a giant empty ocean without him in it. He scrambled quickly into the hotel room, dripping water across the carpet, only in some plaid boxers. Once the blur of the action caught up to you, you followed suit, nearly flying out of the tub into the freezing cold air. “What are you doing!” You called after him as he hastily dried off with a towel and changed into sweats and a hoodie faster than you’d ever seen anyone move.

The mischievous smile never left his face in his hurried actions and stayed focused on his mission. In that moment you realized you were now babysitting a drunken toddler. Like any good caretaker, you matched his speed but soon remembered your limited wardrobe choices. He was already halfway out the door and the only reasonably warm and accessible choices were another hoodie and pair of sweats from his duffle.

“Austin!” You first shouted loudly after him, stumbling out the door trying to slide fully into your sneakers. Then in a more hushed yell, not wanting to wake the entire lodge at 2 am. “Where are you going!”

“Fries!” He threw over his shoulder as he booked it down the stairs.

“Hey! Slow down!” Taking a moment to catch your breath before following him down the two flights of mahogany stairs. “You couldn’t have taken the elevator at least?”

Finally, you caught up to him, standing in front of the restaurant that hosted the rotating buffet during the day. You leaned over attempting to catch your breath gripping your chest, reminding you that maybe a weekly gym day wouldn’t hurt. “They’re clearly closed Aus.” You huffed out, gesturing your arm at the darkened restaurant. The way it was laid out was that the floor was open so the buffet serving areas and seating were open, but the kitchen was locked. He was bent over eyeing the lock. “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”

“Hmmm.” He hummed and stood up to face you, he held his tongue between his lips as he seemed to analyze you, then reached into your damp hair and plucked out a bobby pin you had forgotten was in there. He went back to his crouched position, unfolding the metal accessory in his sizable hands.

“No no no.” You whispered, “Austin you’re gonna get us in trouble what are you doing!”

“I’m opening a door that we found, already open y/n, obviously.” He slid the pin into the keyhole and wiggled it around.

“Oh god you’re really doing this aren’t you.” You brought a hand to your temple.

It didn’t take long for the doorknob to click open, probably because the hotel didn’t think patrons would be breaking in. “Aha!” He proclaimed, flinging the door open and turning on the blinding overhead lights. Relief washed over you when you didn’t hear immediate alarms blaring.

“I fucking can’t believe you’re doing this.” You exasperated, dropping your arms at your sides, “You know there aren’t going to be just magically fresh fries right?”

“Relax Intern,” His mission stayed focused on pillaging the stainless-steel industrial kitchen for his desired snack. “I know what I’m doing.” Waving you off.

“Oh,” You placed both hands on your hips, “You break into kitchens often?”

He shot you an unimpressed look, “No, if you must know,” He somehow miraculously found the frozen fries. “I used to work in a kitchen, I know how to make some pretty fuckin’ dope fries.” He inspected the knobs of the deep fryer and clicked it to a high setting.

“Oh, you mean before you were just an actor?” You sassed, crossing your arms across your chest and popping out a hip.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Believe it or not I was once a struggling actor.” The fries sizzled in the oil when he dunked an obscene amount of into the appliance.

“Ah, I see the humbleness didn’t stick around.” You teased back, walking over to the wall and flipped off 3/4ths of the blinding fluorescent lights, leaving only the one’s above the counters.

He shot you another glare, “Keep talkin’ like that and ya aren’t gonna get any fries.”

You contemplated continuing your defiance but ultimately decided the midnight snack was more important. They were already in the fryer after all, might as well follow through.

He drew the fries from the oil, threw them into a giant silver bowl, and salted them like a pro, tossing them in the air and everything.

You ended up on the floor of the dark kitchen, sat across from him binging on the perfectly golden fries and a random wine bottle you’d found. For someone who was evidently wasted, they were beyond impressive. “Damn, you weren’t lying, these are so fucking good.” You complimented then shoved a handful of salty fries into your mouth. On a first date, you’d never eat like that in front of anyone, but this wasn’t a first date, this was a drunken adventure with an asshole.

“I told you.” He went for another fistful of salted potatoes. “I was the best damn line cook that surf and turf place had ever seen.” He sassed, waving a fry for extra attitude.

Your eyes rolled involuntarily, “You so would work at a surf and turf restaurant.”

He feigned insult with a dropped jaw, “What is that supposed to mean!”

You giggled and shrugged, taking a sip from the wine bottle. “You just give that typa vibe.” You teased, covering your mouth to hide the chuckle that threatened to erupt.

“Well, that’s not very nice.” He picked up a fry and tossing it at you. He shot a smirk at you then stole the wine bottle, taking a long swig. His plump lips molded around the bottle opening, his adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow.

You gasped, “You’re not very nice.” You plucked a fry from the heap and hurled it back at him. His gaze turned to a playful one, moving slowly to the bowl scooping a bundle of fries and heaving them at you.

“You’re a fucking child you know that?” Your tone serious but gasping an equal bit of fries while he was focused on your expression, throwing it right back at him. First the water fight and now this? Who the fuck abducted Actor and who was sitting across from you?

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” He sat up on his knees, taking a fistful of your improvised dinner and aimed a bit too close to your face. Your hands immediately covered your eyes, “Ow!” You whined, sitting back on your legs, “You hit my eye!”

Instantly you heard him move the bowl and wine out of the way to cross the gap between you. “Oh my god I’m so sorry.” The hands that normally had been so rough on you, now delicately holding onto your wrists.

“It really hurts.” You whimpered, not moving your hands from your face.

“I didn’t mean to y/n, I swear.” He said softly then gently tugging at your hands. “C’mon let me see, we can wash out your eyes or something.”

A mischievous smirk spread across your lips beneath your hands, taking the fries that landed on you and smushing them into his chest. “Ha! I gotcha!”

Utter shock softened his face once he realized he’d been played. “That’s not fucking funny, I thought I- that I had-“ He struggled to find his words amidst the swirl of competitiveness and deception. It seemed as though his thoughts had halted as he watched your expression. The silence bounding around the industrial kitchen was haunting, unsure as to whether he was actually upset or if he would counter your move.

While you were attempting to decipher his motives, he abruptly took your cheeks into his large hands and pulled you into a kiss. The way his lips felt pressed against yours sent flutters down into your tummy, but they were different than the usual flurries of desire he gave you, these almost made you sick.

It took no time for your own hands to find a home tangled his hair. He inched forward indicating that he wanted you to lay back and you obeyed the silent request, slowly leaning back to land flat against the thankfully freshly mopped floor.

The kiss was tender, not hungry or ravenous, not even pushing to enter your mouth. In that moment, he wasn’t looking for anything more than that.

Your lips stayed locked for what seemed like a lifetime. A part of you almost grew uncomfortable at the intimacy, reflexively wanting to deepen the kiss. That’s all he’d ever wanted before after all, wasn’t it? You’d never had just a kiss before, with no ulterior motives. Why would he?

So, you wanted to fast forward to the part you knew was coming, not wanting to linger in a meaningless moment longer than necessary. You couldn’t afford to hold onto a fantasy, nor did you want to. But every muscle in your body ceased to function. His hands held your face and drew the pads of his thumbs across your cheekbones gently while your fingers traveled through his hair like a maze.

He was the exactly that - a maze, a human embodiment of one. You followed each path of his thinking you figured the way out, only to find you had no idea what you were doing or where you were going. You were trapped within an impossible labyrinth you never meant to enter.

His lips struggled to demagnetize from yours and hovered above your face. His navy eyes swirled reluctance, seemingly lost in some maze of his own. “I uh-“ He sat back on his legs, scratching the back of his head and eyes diverting from you. “We should probably head back to the room.”

And just like that, you reached another dead end in his labyrinth.

When you woke the next morning, the bed was empty. At first it took you by surprise, then a pit formed in your stomach. It was naïve of you to think that your drunken adventures with a rare Austin would change anything, foolish to think that version of him would stick around in the sober daylight. You wanted so badly to believe that wasn’t the truth, but you knew it was.

It dawned on you, why did that pit even form? This was the shithead that tormented you at work, treated you like shit and called you insufferable. In what twisted reality should you be sad that the illusion of a decent human fueled by alcohol didn’t stay for breakfast. At what point did you decide you wanted that version of him to stay? That’s not really what you want, was it? Of course not.

You brought your palms and pressed them into your eyes in a feeble attempt to clear out the thoughts swirling in your head. In a swift fling of the thick bedding, you unglued yourself from the bed, shuffling over to the window to check on the snow status. Thick snow still coated every surface, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before, which meant that you’d probably be freed from this prison in the next day or two.

“Thank fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, instinctively tucking your arms into your sides when you felt a chill. It was only then that you realized that you were still wearing his clothes. For whatever reason, you did a quick scan of the room as if someone would see you pulling up the collar of the hoodie taking an inhale. It smelled like him mingled with his cologne, a woodsy musk. You mentally scolded yourself when the tinge of longing filled your chest. Why the fuck would you miss him?

Then the memory of you sitting with him on the kitchen floor flashed across your mind pulling a giddy grin across your lips. “Fucking stop it.” Smacking your palm into your forehead. You shook your head trying to shake out whatever fucked up disease had taken over your mind, that was the only explanation for what you were feeling. The best way you could think of trying to remedy this ailment of yours was to take a long, hot shower. Maybe it’d wash it all away.

Once in the bathroom you let out a groan when you noticed all the towels were used and thrown about. “Fucking men.”

You headed down to the lobby and got the attention of a clerk. “Hi sorry to bother you but could I possibly get some more towels?”

“Sure of course! It’s no bother sweetie.” The middle-aged attendant sweetly smiled before heading into the back office.

She returned with a tower of fresh white towels. “There you go hon.” Placing them on the granite counter in front of you, “Your boyfriend use ‘em all?” She questioned in a joking tone.

You reflexively scoffed, “He’s definitely not my boyfriend.”

“Hm.” She pressed her lips together as if she had more to say but didn’t want to divulge.

“What?” You asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well it’s just- well I remembered you both from the night the snowstorm first hit so-“ She seemed to be trying to piece together some pieces of a puzzle in her head.

“…Mhm?” You urged on curious as to where this could possibly be going.

“So, when we had a vacancy open up yesterday, we called and asked him if he wanted to take it.” You knitted your brows together as you now tried to piece together the puzzle. “And well… he declined. So, I just assumed…”

“He turned down a room to himself?” You repeated for clarification, which was met with a timid nod, obviously feeling guilty for sharing personal information. “I uh, I have to go.” You stated shortly, snatching the tower of towels, “Thank you so much!” You thanked while you quickly made it back to the room.

After your much needed long, hot shower you decided to roam the all-inclusive resort. The only perk of being there was that there was decent amount of things to do during the day. From bars to in house casinos, arcades, spas, even a bowling alley. While you told yourself it was because you were bored, in the pit of your tummy there was a part of you that hoped you’d bump into your…enemy?

You wandered around the wooden halls of the resort with a pamphlet of all your options. Each corridor, room and lobby were decorated in typical lodge décor, animal heads on the wall, buffalo print everything, luxurious fireplaces. Everything except the deer heads was stunning, if you visited under different circumstances the mini vacation would’ve been a tranquil little getaway.

Since Austin supposedly hated you, Landon was a creep and Tom had his own friend group, you were alone. There was a door at the very end of the hallway that intrigued you. Once you peered in you saw a much cozier den-style bar, a huge square sectional couch facing a stone fireplace. On the opposite a very quaint bar. As you scanned the room for possible acquaintances you landed on a group of familiar faces.

“Y/N!” Called Tom, “You’re just in time. We’re just about to play truth or dare!”

What we were in 6th grade?

You locked eyes with your resident tormentor, because of course he’d be there. There was a split second where you thought things would be different after last night but when he gave you a warning look to decline the game offer, you knew it was a pipe dream. That gentle, playful man from the hot tub and the kitchen was gone, just like that. Then, the hatred you’d always felt before piped back into you, like a coffee pot filling with molten hot caffeine. Keeping eye contact with him the edges of your lips curled into a cocky smile, “Sounds great.” You sauntered over to the place next to Tom that faced opposite of Austin.

A few rounds of the game ensued, nothing too juicy at first but the game soon heated up when the group had downed a fair number of drinks. It was a stagehand’s turn to dare Austin. The brunette male, who had been working near many of your interactions together, gave him a playful smirk, “I dare you…” His eyes landed on you, “To make out with y/n.”

How fucking juvenile

You weren’t sure why the absolute jarring panic settled into your stomach, but Austin’s expression of immediate disgust didn’t help.

“I’m not doing that.” He said sternly, his tone oddly irritated.

“Oh, c’mon dude, it’s just a kiss.” The stagehand, Ryan, prodded jokingly.

“No. I’m not fucking doing it, give me a truth.” His brows low and knitted, eyes dark and mean.

“Fine.” Ryan, clearly annoyed and drunk, matched his unnecessarily angry tone, “Have you fucked the intern?” The question hushed every person around the fireplace, an uneasy tension filled in the air.

Blood rushed to Austin’s face and a vein pulsed in his forehead. He was trying to restrain his anger, squeezing his fists to stave it off. Your own steaming coffee pot was on the verge of overflowing.

Whether it was the tequila or something else that fueled you was unclear but you balled up your own fists, and before you could stop yourself, the words flew out, “I’m not a fucking intern!” You boomed out louder than intended and shooting you straight up on your feet.

Austin rolled his eyes, sharply pushing off from the couch, “I’m fuckin’ outta here.” He scoffed, headed for the doorway.

“Answer the question you fuckin’ pussy!” Called a way too far gone Ryan. “We already know the answer.” He added in a cocky snide.

Any sinister look you’d ever seen on Austin didn’t compare to the one that bore into Ryan. You were surprised his fist wasn’t bashed into his face already, if there weren’t so many witnesses he probably would’ve been pummeled to a mush.

 “Let’s get this fucking straight.” He hissed, his eyes locked on Ryan, never once glancing at you, like you weren’t even in the room. “I have never and will never put my hands on such a low budget, low level, filthy whore nobody of an Intern.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at his words, a consequential dagger speared right through your intestines. You knew he hated you, he called you insufferable. You knew he hated you, you knew it even after last night, but you never expected him to say such vile words about you. A lump formed in your throat and tears welled in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry there – not in front of all your coworkers, not after being completely and utterly humiliated. Every ounce of alcohol in your bloodstream fueled your stomp over to him and didn’t even realize what you had done until you felt your palm stinging like a bitch from landing on his face. His hand instantly reaching to cover his newly red cheek from your slap, his eyes wide in disbelief, then narrowed with furious realization.

“Fuck you,” You attempted to hide the quiver in your voice, “You fucking rotten, disgusting, repulsive human being.” Your teeth clenched, you knew your little outburst could very well get you fired but there was too much rage and liquor in your body to care.

He did nothing, not a brow raise, not a twist in his face, nothing. Perhaps he’d never had someone talk back to him like that. Without further explanation he just pushed past you, knocking your shoulder back with his weight. The gravity of what just happened settled into your chest, having such a cruel intimate moment in front of all your colleagues was probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. Something you’d never be able to forget, something you could never forgive. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt all eyes on you and your heart began to race feeling the purest form of ‘flight’ mode you’d ever had in your life.

When you escaped there was no sign of Austin in sight. You knew he had to have gone back to the room, hopefully to pack his shit and leave. And if he wasn’t then you would, even if you had to beg to stay in someone’s room. All the way up the elevator your heart thumped against your rib cage, shaking out your hands and taking deep breaths mentally preparing yourself for confrontation.

You unlocked the door and found him standing there, looking like he got there just before you did. The anxiety of the confrontation dissipated the moment you laid eyes on his hardened face. “Get out.” You stated harshly, brushing past him yourself mimicking his actions from before.

“Intern there’s nowhere for me to fucking go.” His voice already raised and ready for battle, “I’m not fucking happy about it either but-“

Your brows scrunched together downwards, steam practically pouring from your ears. “You’re a liar! A filthy fucking liar! Get. Out.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not lying-“ He began but his incessant voice was driving you more livid by the minute.

“I know about the fucking vacant room Austin.” You growled, using his name and not Actor to let him know how serious you were. Just from how he opened his mouth to speak you could tell he was about to lie again so you beat him to it. “The front desk lady told me. Tell me Austin, if you hate me so goddamn much then why didn’t you just take the room? To fuck with me? To take me on some stupid drunken adventure to trick me into thinking you actually have a heart?”

He stayed silent, which only made you angrier. You just called him out on his bullshit, and he couldn’t even react. “Actually no, you know what? I’m the fucking liar. Because out there I called you a human being, but you’re too fucked up to be a human, you’re a fucking cockroach – I try to stomp you out but you keep fucking coming back.” When the words left there was an immediate sense of release, everything that had built up in your system spilled out.

“Oh, I’m a cockroach? If I’m such a cockroach, then why do you keep coming back for more huh?” He hissed, his arrogant scrunched face pissed you off even more. He had no right to talk to you like that after what he did. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I was making you cum.” Purposely using jarring sexual defenses to hurt you.

You thought lava was about to start seeping through your skin, what made it worse was that you didn’t have an answer. “Augh!” You grunted, pacing in a short lap, your fingers curling around air. “You are so fucking infuriatingly heartless it’s nauseating!”

He scoffed, “Well, I may be heartless, but you’re fucking naïve.” He snarled. “Naïve to think I would ever actually enjoy your company outside of your body.”

Your jaw dropped, tears pricked your eyes again realizing how senseless you were to have thought he was anything else but the arrogant, cruel man you met that first day on set. The building rage turned your tears into a terrifying laugh, “Oh, my body huh? That’s funny because out there you said you’d never touch me, when in there” Pointing to the back door leading to the hot tub, “You touched me with nothing in return for you. You were the one who wanted to ‘take care of me’, you held me, you called me pretty!” The ending sounding so pathetic, instantly regretting the vulnerability knowing it would be used as ammo.

He cackled, “Oh c’mon Intern you can’t be serious, nobody ever taught you not to believe the things men say when they’re drunk? It didn’t mean anything, I was drunk, I lied.”

The words sliced like blades and every ounce of restraint drained from your body. “You are by far the worst person I’ve ever had the disgrace of knowing. I wish I never fucking met you. If I could go back in time, I would turn down my apprenticeship. My apprenticeship, because I’m not and have never been a fucking intern!” Your voice raised into a yell, “I would throw away my entire career if it meant I could avoid ever crossing paths with you.”

A few moments passed and he was still there, silent and blank. You couldn’t read him at all, if he was angry or sad or insulted. He could’ve easily turned it on you, but he didn’t. He just stared at you.

Everything from the first day on set to the day of the snowstorm, yesterday and everything in between, compounded in your mind. Every insult, every backhanded comment, every accusation replayed in your head. No one had ever made you feel as low and as shitty as he did. The lump from before reclaimed its place in your throat and tears began to pool in your eyes, finally needing real answers. “Why do you treat me like this huh? Why do you say the horrible things you say to me? Call me all the vile names you do? What did I ever fucking do to you?” While you were holding back tears your voice remained furious and combative. “Why do you fucking hate me!”

His brows furrowed and his sharp jaw noticeably clenched, “You’re just fucking infuriating and annoying and it- it just drives me fucking insane!”

“What does! What the fuck do I do that bothers you so fucking much!” You nearly screamed out.

“You- just-“ He was grasping at straws, “No matter how much I try to hate you I fucking can’t!” His words darted from his tongue faster than he had time to process. His widened eyes gave away how much he regretted his slip up.

“W-What?” You stuttered out confused, that being the last thing you expected him to say. The rapid thumping of your heart accelerated, allowing only short breaths and you even felt a little lightheaded. You were overloaded, angry, confused, hurt, heartbroken, embarrassed. The small bit of control you had left was gone and the tears made their full appearance.

The minute he noticed the tears streaming down your face, Austin’s twisted face softened right before your eyes, even softer than the night before. “I-“ He stepped towards you but you immediately winced and recoiled from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You cried out wiping the tears from your face in an attempt to halt them.

In true Austin fashion, he didn’t listen, and his hands found your own on your cheeks. In an even stranger turn of events, he leaned down and placed a long kiss on your lips. Then he gently pulled your hands from your face, you looked up at him with watery puzzled eyes. You instinctively smacked his arm to push him away, but his strong arm didn’t budge.

He cupped your cheeks in his hands and placed a tender kiss under each stream of tears. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly after each kiss. Every single action he did was like a twisted turn on rickety rollercoaster ride. He returned to your lips, pressed another kiss followed with, “I’m sorry.” He whispered, an extra pillowy light kiss, “I’m sorry.” He repeated, another kiss, another apology. He trailed his lips down to just below your ear, stamping additional kiss there, “I’m sorry.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pressed another sloppy kiss below your ear, “I’m sorry.” No matter how furious you were didn’t stop the butterflies in your tummy. A longer, sloppier kiss further down your neck with a raspy, “I’m sorry.” Sent a buzzing through your chest and directly to your hips.

Maybe it was the same for you, no matter what horrible things he did or said to you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you hated him, you couldn’t. Maybe you were just as fucked up as he was.

“I’m sorry, let me show you how much.” He muttered against your skin, his fingers delicately smoothing down your sides like he was plucking a harp.

The shift from abhorrent to sweet gave you whiplash, not knowing which one was genuine. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing any tears out, the salty liquid dripping off your chin. “Austin, I can’t.” You breathed out, the panic attack-like heaving never left. “Austin, you literally just humiliated me in front of everyone. You called me a filthy whore nobody, in front of everyone.” Reluctantly pulling from his grasp. His once venomous eyes now soft and apologetic, but that’s exactly what he did wasn’t it? He’d wrap you back in his hold like prey, constrict you until you were blue in the face, still hypnotizing you with snake eyes. You were a rat and he a cobra trapped in a 10 gallon tank, and he was still convincing you that he wasn’t trying to consume you whole. “I just can’t. I just- I respect myself too much. And I need you to go. I need to be alone.”

He stepped towards you once more, his fingertips ran down the back of your arms reaching your hands, taking them tenderly into his. “I’m so sorry y/n. I won’t do it again. I promise.” He bargained in a tone so quiet you’d think he was paranoid of people hearing him from behind the walls. “I’ll never talk like that ever, ever again.”

“Austin, I don’t know what you want from me.” You slipped from his hands, “But there won’t be another ‘again’. You were right the other day on set, this shouldn’t have happened.” Your voice cracked, “I need you to leave. Now.”  

His look faltered, a look you’d only ever seen on the faces of defeated Olympians. “Okay.” He said lowly, stepping forward and cupping your face then pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His misty blue eyes looked down at you, “If you ever wanna cash in that apology, you know where to find me.”

Without another word he gathered his things and left to find the other room. The minute he was out the door, every emotion you had suppressed from the event took over. You doubled over gripping onto your stomach as you heaved, rivers of tears pouring from your eyes. Tight twists and knots wrapped around your abdomen, constricting you like the snake he was.

You stumbled to the bed and fell in it, wrapping the sheets around you and like a 15-year-old with their first heartbreak, you wailed into the pillow. You never felt so worthless, so pathetic, so stupid. You were so fucking stupid for letting him slither his way into you the way he did. How could anyone talk about someone like that? Someone who just last night was so sweet and gentle with you. Someone who said they didn’t mean any of it but then wanted to apologize so tenderly?

It made you sick to think how you let such evil into your body. You weren’t even able to say that you missed the red flags, you didn’t, you saw them clearly and raced past them. He showed you exactly who he was, and still let yourself believe he was something he wasn’t.

Yeah, your house was now haunted, but you were the one who invited the demon in.

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author notes:

thank you all SO much for all the love and support on this story, it has truly been overwhelming. i know my numbers aren't as big as others but they're big to me - appreciate EVERY comment, message, ask, etc. i love you guys so much - i never expected this fic to get that much attention so again, thank you xx

if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol

also pls consider giving this a like, comment or reblog ♡

[natp20]

Me trying to figure out the movie references from Never Stop Blowing Up of the movie posters you recently posted

i've got your back!

2 Quick 2 Perilous - 2 Fast 2 Furious

Squeeze - Scarface/Heat (or any movie about organized crime)

Shadow Falcon Protocol - Hackers

Atomic Brunette - Atomic Blonde/Salt

Santo Patron - Casino Royale/007 movies

Tough Kill - Die Hard

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 11

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10

"Jake calm down!" Jake was furious, fuming. If he didn't calm down at this pace he'd turn into a cartoon character with smoke coming from their nose and ears.

Kai was asleep in his room, he insisted on taking Alfie to sleep with him. Kai has fallen in love with that dog. Alfie became his new best friend. You adored it and so did Jake but with the two of them sleeping, the two of you had to tone down.

"How am I meant to calm down, Cobra! He basically threatened you," Jake was pacing up and down the room. You didn't know how to calm him down. You informed Jake about your meet and greet in the hall with Matthew and let's just say it drove your boyfriend mad.

"Jake we have bigger things in mind! There's a bloody killer, swiping us all off and you're here worried about my ex?!?" You were terrified. The whole dagger crew was nearly eliminated. Just you, Bradley, Jake and Javy. Each of the others was knocked down like a pawn in a failed match of chess.

This stops Jake and he walks over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist. His arms delicately rest on your hips as he comes closer, kissing your forehead and reassuring you, "Cobs, I'd fucking die before letting anything happen to you or Kai. You guys saved me and I'll do anything to save you." You nod and pull into his chest.

You were scared, shaking in fear was a way to put it. You didn't know what to do, you were scared for life and your friends were just out six feet underground. You pulled back, and nodded tiredly. He smiled at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before relaying his delicate lips on top of yours. You hum into the kiss before you pull apart.

"Should I clean up?" You wondered, due to the two wine glasses and earlier dinner plates that were still left to be washed. He shook his head, leading you towards your son's bedroom. You stand in front of the frame as he answers. "Go, lay with Kai. I'll clean up and I still have some work. Rest, okay? The two of you are safe."

"And Alfie?"

"And Alfie."

You open the door and step in as Jake heads speeding into the kitchen to reach his phone. Have you ever seen a cartoon character run? You know, like tom, from Tom and jerry. When his legs turn into wheels due to the incredible speed he just took off at? Yep, that was the perfect way to describe Jake.

He rushes over to his phone to quickly send an email. He knew this had to be quick and fast, mixed with a good bribe and paycheck. He looks back over to the door that he sent you into. He knew if you caught him doing this you'd be fuming, absolutely ballistic.

He just emailed Justin to contact Matthew. It was a set up. If Matthew believed that he was going to meet Justin and then magically bumped into Jake's fist nothing bad would happen, right? Just a coincidence. Jake quickly went to his contact list, calling straight to Coyotes number.

'Hello?'

'Javy, meet me at the old factory near the deck in twenty.'

------

After everything that happened, Matthew was out of control at the start. His father was in jail, his brother murder and a lot of more dilemma that nobody cares about or asked for. You simply never thought youd end up in this situation.

You were running through the parking lot. He was on your heels, he was chasing you and wouldn't stop. He was armed as well. You keep running as fast you could until you took the wrong turn. He came out of nowhere. You didn't see him coming. He grabbed your hair and pushed you down. The wind was knocked out of you. The words were taken out of your mouth as you lay flat on the ground and he kneeled against your chest.

"You took everything from me."

Matthew was furious, he held the gun to your head and you were sure he was about to pull the trigger from you more than instantly. He was right, you did just ruin him. But he had taken more from you. His family ruined you, you played their little good girl slave for a while too long.

"You did it first."

------

Jake looked over at the faint body, that was tied to the pole. The man's body, was sat down, legs wide open in a v-shape, arms tied behind his back and neck quite crushed due to choking force. Javy looked over at his friend and didn't know what to say. This was the right thing. Right? I mean it had to be.

"He's not dead properly, he's dying though." Justins voice comes from the darkness as he wears his black gloves with a knive twirling in his fingers. All three men are now standing side by side. They all stare at the still, somehow, alive man tied to the pole. They knew Iif they left it like this, it'd be obvious it was them who did this.

"So you're telling me that thing can still breathe?" Javy asks, point at Matthew's corpse like body as Jake never lifts his gaze of Matthew.

This man was the reason you have lived in fear for years. Each day of your and his marriage was another day of him mistreating you and your future son. He disgusted Jake, how could a man that was kissed by god's blessing, mistreat a woman like you.

"He used to hurt her, you know. After his brother and father, he chose drugs and chugged down with alcohol. He deserved it." Justins words were true, syllable to syllable. But did he deserve it? Nobody deserved to die by their neck getting broken against a pole. Nobody deserved to be strangled by three men on a late nights evening.

But he did hurt you. He tortured you. Used you. He hurt you all your life, in ways nobody knew before. Matthew did deserve it.

"I didn't mean this to happen." Jake was still in a trance. He's killed many men in his days but he has never, never in his full career, felt sorry about it. And now he may, scratch that, he just killed Kai's father and your old husband.

"I know. Look… You two leave. I'll finish the poor bastard off." Javy and Jake just nod and let Justin finish Matthew and take the grown man out of his misery. The two friends walk out. Javy lays his hand upon Jake's back and paths him in reassurance. This wasn't Jake's fault, Matthew threatened you and Jake along with Kai. He was the man who wasted your life.

The sound of something like an atomic drill burst their eardrums. It's like the whole world went numb. Everything went numb.

That's the sound of a machine gun.

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[cinematitlecards]

"The Fast and the Furious" (2001) Directed by Rob Cohen (Action/Crime/Thriller) . . "2 Fast 2 Furious" (2003) Directed by John Singleton (Action/Crime/Thriller) . . "The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift" (2006) Directed by Justin Lin (Action/Crime/Thriller) . . "Fast & Furious" (2009) Directed by Justin Lin (Action/Thriller) . . "Fast Five" (2011) Directed by Justin Lin (Action/Adventure/Crime) . . "Fast & Furious 6" (2013) Directed by Justin Lin (Action/Adventure/Thriller) . . "Furious 7" (2015) Directed by James Wan (Action/Adventure/Thriller) . . "The Fate of the Furious" (2017) Directed by F. Gary Gray (Action/Adventure/Crime) . . "Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw" (2019) Directed by David Leitch (Action/Adventure/Thriller) . . "F9" (2021) Directed by Justin Lin (Action/Adventure/Crime)

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

John Singleton was a renowned screenwriter and director born in Los Angeles, California on January 6, 1968. His 1991 feature film debut, Boyz n the Hood, garnered an Academy Award nomination for Best Director and Best Original Screenplay.

Singleton followed with Poetic Justice in 1993 and Higher Learning in 1995. Subsequent works include 1997’s Rosewood, 2000’s Shaft remake, 2001’s Baby Boy and 2003’s 2 Fast 2 Furious. In 2005, he produced Hustle & Flow and directed Four Brothers.

John’s last creation Snowfall is an American crime drama television series set in Los Angeles, California in 1983.

CARTER™️ Magazine

[jalwyn21]

I’m a little late to the party but I’m seeing the whole stolen masters thing and I just want to know if I’m getting this straight.

The record company that the swifts own a big part of and produce all her stuff owns her masters under that brand. They knew this and were fine with it. They had much more freedom and control over her work than most artists. The company was up for sale and the swifts had the chance to buy the company but did not. They made 15 million when the ownership changed. This new ownership was portrayed as some super villain level crime against women. She’s now re-recording every album, quickly and poorly, as a protest. Shes still making money off the originals, the company sale, and now the rereleases and all of the remixes. We are supposed to see this as a girlboss power move and not some narcissist’s money grab. Also this is all somehow joe alwyns fault.

I think I’m getting that right.

Sidenote: does she even own the masters for the new versions? Will we have to sit through Taylor’s version 2; 2 fast 2 furious? It’d be kind of karmic if the original masters owner could sue for copyright.

Oh, not sure about this..

I think the record company put all the masters at that company, including hers, up for sale. So she wanted to buy her masters, but the record company said no. It's all the masters or nothing. So she chose not to buy. And I thing her dad had shares in the record company, so she made money anyway..

And now she is doing the tv's to make the original masters worthless. Or something like that..

I don't really know or care. She is making lots of money anyway.. 😹😹😹

[bensonstablers]

I was tagged by @sothischickshe (thank you!!! 🥰) to answer 20 questions for writers:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

205.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

609,094

3. What fandoms do you write for?

fandoms i've written for include:

Law & Order: SVU / L&O: Organized Crime

Good Girls

Gotham

Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel

Criminal Minds

Graceland

Stranger Things

The Walking Dead

Riverdale

Castlevania

Preacher

Four Brothers

Outer Banks

Gilmore Girls

while no longer available, in the past i've also written for:

Fast and Furious franchise

MCU / Marvel

Boondock Saints

Hocus Pocus

From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series

DC

(plus more i'm probably forgetting about)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shared History (Good Girls/Brio)

Degree of Separation (Good Girls/Brio)

Milkshakes (Good Girls/Brio)

Deep Sense of Belonging (Good Girls/Brio)

Sacred Art of Kissing (Good Girls/Brio)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i read all of them for sure but i'm terrible sometimes at responding although i do try my best

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ooft, okay. there's probably more than this but the following have major character death warnings that could very well be classed as angsty lmao:

i wrote this little ficlet: Gone (SVU, bensler/EO) in which a raid goes wrong and it's just pain from start to finish and then there's Until Long After She Takes Her Final Breath which is a Good Girls/brio fic in which their reunion at the beginning of season 3 goes very differently.

Why don't we go to Venus? is another Good Girls/brio fic in which the summary is: Rio killed her and that was supposed to be the end of it but Beth doesn’t seem to be done with him quite yet.

that one is probably my angstiest overall but the ending is probably the least angsty bit about it??? haha

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

honestly? i have no idea and i have no clue how to check 😭😂

8. Do you get hate on fics?

there was someone going around the SVU/OC fandom leaving weird hate comments on people's stuff (anonymously) and i got one but while it felt rude, it didn't feel like hate, but also it felt like it was supposed to be hateful, y'know? pretty sure i just deleted it though (i for sure ignored it) 😂

but generally, no. i'm lucky to say that i tend to avoid hate on social media and that includes fanfiction.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i have done and the variety isn't huge but it's there? i guess?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i have done! beyond the obvious (where shows, etc share worlds), i did a boondock saints/the walking dead one (which was also co-written) because norman reedus stars in both 😂

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

again, not that i'm aware of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes! the aforemention boondock saints/the walking dead fic was co-written on ff.net and i co-wrote (with the same person), a fast and furious fic.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

i lost myself a ton in writing olivia/elliot from svu/organized crime as well as beth/rio from good girls so they'd probably battle it out for top spot.

BUT

if i'm being brutally honest, my all time favourite ever to write were fast and furious ships 😂 especially the OGs (specifically vince and leon) with my OCs (although there were canon ships i loved to write too!). it was just so fun and freeing and i constantly think about it.

(i also loved when i wrote random marvel/mcu pairings, winterwitch was probably my number one for them and again, i think about it a lot)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i think it's unlikely i'll finish a lot but especially a degree of separation. i kind of hate it, i'm so sorry 😭😭😭

16. What are your writing strengths?

the thought of analysing my own writing right now sounds painful but two of the most common nice things people tell me is that: 1) they like how i write dialogue and 2) they like my writing style in general

(but of which i highly appreciate!)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i don't do it enough?

nah. true but seriously, there's a ton, however, i do tend to waffle on and write something in several sentences that could have been just one 😭

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't think i've ever done it? if i have it'll be dialogue or whatever that's already in the show/move/etc

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Fast and the Furious 🥰

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

still on ao3: it has to be Why don't we go to Venus? but also Knock First which is a Beth/Rio/Original Male Character threesome fic that was SO MUCH fun

no longer posted: a fic for The Fast and the Furious. it was a Vince/OC story. it was so much fun to write and it was one of my most popular back when i was posting on ff.net and i miss this story all the time (even though it's probably awful 😂) and always think about re-writing and posting it again on ao3

Tagging: @conscience-killer @constant-sinner @astarkey @xstrawmari @blainesebastian if ya like! (sorry if you've been tagged before!)

[beybladeninja]

I’m an avid supporter of the ship Cole x Vania, and I’ve head cannoned for a while that they would have twins if they ever decided to get together.

But then Dragons Rising Part 2 came out, and I wondered… how would they try to prevent another Empress Beatrix?

This is what I came up with.

—————

“YOUR MAJESTY!”

Cole winced as the frantic voice echoed throughout the cavernous hall. He turned around to find the source and took in the sight of a palace attendant rushing towards him, a harried look on her naturally pale face. There were too many attendants in the palace for Cole to keep track of, but he easily recognized this one.

She was the attendant assigned to oversee his sons’ history lessons.

This could not be good.

“What’s wrong?” Cole quickly asked, fully turning to face the attendant as she literally slid to a stop in front of him. “Are my sons okay?”

The attendant took a while to answer, nearly crouched into an upright fetal position with her hands on her knees as she heaved. She had obviously ran very fast from a very far distance, if the sweat streaking her dark hair was any indication. Her condition only worsened Cole’s worry for his sons, but he respectfully waited for the attendant to compose herself before she answered.

Finally, the attendant straightened slightly from her pained position as her breathing started to slow. “I’m… sorry to… disturb you… your Majesty…” She was able to gasp out, still shaking on her feet. “I was just… giving the princes… a lesson in the garden… because it’s such a… a beautiful day… and I… I guess I said… something wrong…? And, well… one thing led to another… and now…” She started babbling, her eyes darting anxiously to his face, to the walls of the hallway. “I-I really am sorry… b-but Queen Vania is in a meeting with the Queen of the Munce and the Geckle Chancellor, a-and… none of the guards can seem to calm them down…”

A small tremor ran through the palace’s marble floors, so slight that one would have missed it if they weren’t focused on it. Cole quickly got the gist and nodded. “Which garden?” He inquired.

“West,” The attendant immediately replied, and that was all Cole needed as he took off in the direction she’d come from.

The palace was a maze of stairways and corridors, but living in it for over a decade had helped him develop a mental map of the place. Marble columns and colorful paintings flew past him until the white fell away into the sprawling green of the West Garden. The tremor he’d felt before slowly strengthened into a steady rumble the farther he went, with regular intervals in which the tremors grew in intensity before leveling out. Cole was starting to get an idea about the type of fight his boys were getting into, and the garden turned into nothing but a multicolored blur around him as his speed increased.

A decently sized rock flew past his head; it was only thanks to his ninja training that he was able to duck out of its way in time. It slowed him down for a split second before he was up to full speed once more. He was getting close.

Finally, the scene of the crime came into view. Lillian, his and Vania’s oldest son, was standing in a giant crater with other smaller craters surrounding him. His fists were clenched at his sides and he was seething as he stared up at his twin brother, Vincent. The younger prince had so far been able to evade his furious brother by using the surrounding foliage as shields. The result was that everything green within a few yards of the center crater was tragically smashed and pummeled. Vincent was currently perched on the last surviving tree within the danger zone. Both boys’ regal outfits, black with orange lining for Lillian and white with gold lining for Vincent, were dusted in a fair amount of dirt. The states of both the garden and the boys’ outfits suggested that they’d been at this for a while.

The gardener is probably going to quit over this, Cole griped, picturing the angry message that would most likely be waiting for him in the morning.

“Take it back!” Lillian was shouting at Vincent, his normally pale face nearly the color of a tomato. His hand instinctively reached for the earth beneath him, causing another chunk of the garden to crack apart and rise to his beckoning. “Take it back!”

“You can’t take back the truth!” Vincent wailed back. His tone was smug enough to hide his true feelings, but they showed through the sweat slicking his forehead and the way he tensed on his tree. A guttural growl came from Lillian and he raised the earthy mass above his shoulder, ready to throw it. Vincent crouched in response, prepared to make the jump to safety.

It was time to wrap this up. Cole took the tense moment as an opportunity to take a deep breath and bellow, “BOYS!!!”

The twin princes jerked in surprise at the sound of their father’s voice. Lillian lost his control over the earthy mass and it fell onto his shoulder, breaking apart and dusting his skin with a new layer of dirt. Vincent lost his balance and fell at least five feet, though his training had him rolling and on his feet in no time. They looked to their father with twin expressions of dread, made of wide eyes and trembling lips.

But Cole wouldn’t allow himself to fall for their sorry appearances. “Just what do you two think you’re doing?” He asked them heatedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve trashed the West Garden, traumatized your history teacher, and from what I’ve heard, probably put a good chunk of our guards out of commission.” He hadn’t seen any wounded guards when he’d run through the garden, but he could see enough chips of armor in Lillian’s crater to know that at least a few of them were in the infirmary at this point.

The boys blinked at their father for a second before turning and gazing at their surroundings. They took in the battered ground, the destroyed greenery, the shards of golden armor, and the state of their attire. It occurred to Cole that they had most likely been so caught up in their explosive argument that they hadn’t even realized the kind of damage it was causing. The realization made him even more curious as to what the fight had been about.

His sons glanced sheepishly at each other before turning back to him, their hands folded apologetically in front of them. “We’re truly sorry, Father,” Vincent spoke up, his eyes closing as he bowed his head respectfully towards his father, the King.

“Yeah,” Lillian added somewhat mediocrely. His eyes stayed open as he stared at Cole imploringly. “Are you mad?”

Cole was about to say yes, but the picture of his sons looking at him with such fear stopped him. He sighed and said instead, “I can decide whether or not to be mad once I’ve heard what the fight was about.”

Vincent was all too happy to provide him with an answer. “Well, our history teacher was just giving us a lesson in the garden when she referred to me as ‘Crown Prince’…” He turned condescending eyes towards his brother. “Which Lillian apparently didn’t like.”

The older twin scowled back. “What I didn’t like was the fact that you didn’t correct her,” He explained, putting an angry emphasis on each word. “We’re twins - we’re both Crown Princes! But no - you just smiled your little princely smile and said ‘thank you’.”

“We may be twins and Crown Princes,” Vincent admitted, though his tone remained haughty. “But which of us is inheriting the throne?”

“I told you before and I’m telling you now,” Lillian growled, taking a threatening step towards his brother. “The only reason you’re inheriting the throne is because you’re a kiss-up!”

“And as I told you then and am now repeating,” Vincent sneered, sliding into the crater so that he could match his brother step for step. “The reason Mother and Father passed over you for the throne is because you’re ugly!”

Lillian froze before showing his father a tense smile. “Which is when I started to pummel him like this!” He reached towards the ground once more and started to separate a large chunk from the surrounding earth.

“Boys!” Cole yelled before the mass could be dislodged . He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired of the whole thing. “We’ve discussed this before - Vincent got the throne because Lillian got the Elemental Power of Earth. Your mother and I just split up your responsibilities!”

Lillian released his hold on the mass, but his expression had turned into one of forlorn. “But why, Father?” He asked, sounding on the verge of desperation. “Why wasn’t I given the throne? I’m the older twin - it’s within my right!”

Cole sighed again. “Lillian, I just told you…” He started, but his son angrily cut him off.

“And I don’t want to hear that trash about splitting up our responsibilities because we’re twins - I may be ten, but I know that’s not the real reason!” He stared up at his father, who was still standing at the lip of the crater. “Please, Father… why was I passed over for king? Is it because…” His voice trailed off as his gaze slid down Cole’s body until it wasn’t on his father at all. “Is it because you and Mother didn’t believe in me?”

A quiet gasp escaped Cole’s mouth. “What…? No… no, that’s not it at all!” He quickly denied, shocked that Lillian would even consider such a notion. His hand instinctively stretched towards his son in an attempt to comfort him. Within the crater, Vincent’s hand did the same as his expression turned from one of smug content to one of guilt-stricken fear.

A bit of heat creeped back into Lillian’s voice as he quietly demanded, “Why?”

Cole hesitated. He wanted to tell them - the words were on the tip of his tongue. But are my sons ready to hear the truth?

He took a long look at his sons - his brave, beautiful twin boys. Both had inherited their mother’s platinum blonde hair and their father’s warm brown eyes, and Cole could already see the shaping of his chin and cheekbones peeking through their baby fat. Though when it came to personality, they acted more like their uncles than anyone else. Lillian was hotheaded and prone to outbursts like his Uncle Kai, while Vincent was more logical and forward-thinking like his Uncle Zane. Neither of them had completely grown into their royal attire, as their sleeves still dropped a few inches past their wrists. Cole had held both of them in his arms, comforted them, attempted to shield them all the horrors of the world. He’d tried to be a good father.

But he was well aware that he couldn’t protect them forever.

It was with this realization that Cole heaved another sigh and sat down on the crumbling lip of the crater - royal attire be damned. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and fixing his sons with a tired smile. “Story time,” He announced softly.

His boys immediately sat down in the center of the crater, knee to knee. Cole smiled at this - regardless of whether they were fighting or not, that all went out the window when their father was about to tell a story. He prided himself on his storytelling abilities and the peace it brung.

Cole looked out over his audience before he took a deep breath. Like most of his stories, he started with a question, “Do you know of the city of Imperium?”

“Of course,” Vincent readily replied. “They’re our closest trade partners, supplying most of our computers’ motherboards and hard drives.”

“What he said, I guess,” Lillian agreed with a shrug.

Cole nodded before continuing with another question. “Did you know that it wasn’t always a democratic republic? Up until a little over a decade ago, it was a monarchy, like Shintaro.”

Both of his sons looked surprised at this information. “Really?” Lillian asked. “What caused them to change?”

Cole hesitated once more before he dove into the main story. “The last Imperium Emperor was a good man. I didn’t know him personally, but I’ve heard that he was content with the state of his kingdom and preferred diplomacy before violence. His allies stood with him by choice as opposed to force, and things were at peace. But the Emperor was also an Elemental Master, and-”

“Like you!” Vincent exclaimed, sounding eager to contribute.

“Yes yes, like your old man,” Cole relented with a slight chuckle. “And also like your old man, he had twin children of his own, two daughters. The oldest daughter inherited her father’s powers, and as was the tradition of the royal family, she also inherited the throne.

“Though it probably wasn’t the Emperor’s intention, he started to show bias towards his daughters. He spent most of his time with his oldest daughter, showing her how to use her powers and how to run the kingdom. So not only had she gained her father’s power and his kingdom - she’d also gained his favor.”

“But what about his other daughter?” Vincent asked. “She must have been so lonely!”

Cole scoffed. “I don’t know if ‘lonely’ is how I’d put it,” He admitted. “The younger daughter had been devoid of any form of power her entire life. She was desperate for control in her father’s kingdom. So when she finally got the chance to get some… she took it.”

As was his custom, he took a pause for dramatic effect. He paused for so long that Lillian impatiently blurted out, “So? What happened?”

“Well, they say that her father died in a hovercraft accident,” Cole explained. “And her sister was imprisoned on charges of treason. With no one left to stand in her way, the younger daughter ascended to the throne.”

Lillian and Vincent were both quiet after hearing such news. In an almost scared voice, Lillian asked, “They weren’t accidents… were they?” As his father sadly shook his head, he seemed to withdraw into himself in order to ponder this revelation.

“The younger daughter finally had the control she’d been denied by birthright,” Cole went on, his tone taking a more serious edge. “But after having a taste of power, she couldn’t get enough of it. She demolished her father’s regime and put her own in its place. Allies and loyalties were gained by threats and violence. Dominance was asserted in the form of military and technological might. Anyone who dared to speak against her faced imprisonment… or worse. Dragon, human, animal… no one was safe from her wrath.

“She ruled Imperium with an iron fist, but it still wasn’t enough for her,” Cole continued, his mouth tasting bitter. “She wanted more. She wanted to do something her father couldn’t - place all of the Realms under Imperium control. And she was willing to do whatever it took to do so.” He took a deep breath through his nose. “Even destroy the world as we knew it.”

His sons looked confused, so he asked another question. “Has your history teacher ever taught you two about the Merge Storm?”

“Of course,” Lillian spoke up before his brother had a chance. “That was the day when the sky tore open in order to allow all of the Realms to come together as o-” He abruptly stopped talking as a new expression of horror dawned on his face. “Wait, you’re saying that happened just because some lady was having a temper tantrum?”

Cole nodded solemnly. He hadn’t been in that particular fight, but he’d felt its effects. The memory came unbidden to the front of his mind, the one of the sky becoming speckled with Merge rifts that sucked everything around them into their depths, then splitting open entirely into the universe beyond. He’d heard later that it was only thanks to his friends that the event had been averted, and he’d been so unbelievably proud in that moment that he’d actually cried. He’d rather die than admit it to them, though.

“She’d created a weapon that could tear open the fabric of the universe itself,” He explained softly, swallowing. “She wanted power so badly that she’d went mad with her hunger for it. I don’t know if her original plans as empress were good or bad, but whatever pure intentions she had were squashed the second she gave into her hunger.

“Fast forward a few years to when your mother and I realized that we would be parents,” Cole went on, a small smile lighting his features when he remembered that much more joyous day. “We were overjoyed when we found out, and even more so when we discovered that we were having twins.” His mouth twisted as the feelings came back to him, and he had to avert his eyes from his sons. “But we were also scared. We knew that whoever was born first would inherit my Element of Earth, and royal law decreed that the firstborn child would also inherit the throne. It was the same thing as what happened in Imperium. We were terrified that history would eventually repeat itself.”

Cole couldn’t speak for Vania, but his feelings that day had been especially worrisome. He’d been terrified at the thought that he may show bias towards his own children, just like the Imperium Emperor did. No child deserved such treatment - especially if it led to that child becoming another Empress Beatrix. He’d resolved to himself that day that he wouldn’t do so, and that he’d love his children equally.

“Father?” Vincent asked gently from outside his field of vision.

He took another deep breath to compose himself before going on. “So your mother had an idea. She wrote and passed a law that decreed that if any Elemental Master married into the royal family, and if they had twins, one twin would inherit the Elemental Power while the other would inherit the throne.” He held out his hands for emphasis. “That way, both twins would have their own semblance of control. And… they wouldn’t feel left out in any way.”

His sons lapsed into another period of silence. It went on for so long that Cole finally mustered up the courage to look at them again. Vincent’s hands had come up to grasp his older brother’s bicep, though he didn’t seem to mind one bit. Their big brown eyes, so much like his own, were filled with tears as they stared up at their father. He got the impression that his eyes weren’t doing much better.

“So… the reason why I was passed over for king…” Lillian said slowly. “Was because… you were trying to protect us?”

Cole nodded, forcing himself to smile against the wave of emotions. “The Imperium Empress let her hunger for power nearly destroy herself and Ninjago,” He told them. “Your mother and I love you boys so much. We couldn’t bear to see the same thing happen to either of you.

“You are both important,” He said firmly, stretching out his hands to his sons. Getting the message, they stood up and climbed the side of the crater so that they could grab his hands. “You are both necessary for this kingdom,” He continued, staring into their eyes. “You are both necessary for Ninjago. You are both regal Crown Princes.” He gripped their smaller hands in his big ones. “And you are both our sons. And we love you both very very much.”

That was the dam breaker. Lillian and Vincent started crying and wouldn’t stop, jumping onto their father and burying their wet faces against his silk shirt. Their combined weight ended up pulling Cole over the lip of the crater, causing them all to tumble down into the center. They became even filthier in the process, but the sobs gradually turned into laughs as they realized their predicament.

“W-We’re sorry, Father!” Vincent eventually blurted out. “W-We didn’t mean to bring back bad memories for you! W-We promise to never bring up the subject again!”

“Yeah!” Lillian agreed; his face and that of his brother were still buried in their father’s shirt. “W-We didn’t know that you and Mother had done it to protect us!”

“It’s fine, boys,” Cole sniffed, his own tears coating his face as he rubbed his sons’ backs. “We were going to tell you eventually, anyway. No time like the present, I guess.”

The family lapsed into a brief period of peaceful quiet, father and sons locked into each other’s embraces. It was Lillian that broke the silence by saying, “So… does this mean we’re not in trouble?”

Cole feigned a dramatic gasp and abruptly pushed his giggling sons away. “Oh I knew it - I knew there was a catch!” He exclaimed in disappointment, even while his own bright smile lit up his features. “Buttering up your old man so that he won’t punish you for tearing up the West Garden? Is that the plan?” They continued giggling, so he decided to play his trump card. “Yeah yeah, laugh while you can - you’re still getting punished. You’re both going to help the gardener clean up this mess!”

The giggling stopped as the boys once again took in the sights of the ruined garden. “Oh come on!” Lillian groaned. “I thought we had a moment!”

“Besides, it… it’s not that ruined!” Vincent attempted to protest.

Cole smirked. “If it’s not that ruined, you shouldn’t have any problems putting it back together,” He replied smugly. At his sons’ persistent complaints, he added, “Oh, you think you’re in trouble now? Wait until your mother finds out about this!”

That surely shut them up. “Y-You’re not going to tell her about this, right?” Lillian asked, searching for any hint of mercy from his father.

“BOYS!!”

The princes winced as the king looked in the direction of the queen’s voice and smiled. “I think she already knows.”

[andmaybegayer]

Project “Let’s watch every single Fast & Furious movie”

The series is still finding its feet and not entirely sure what it wants to be. It has however decided that this one should contain a truly incredible amount of homoerotic subtext.

2 Fast 2 Furious (2003)

We check back in with Brian, who is street racing for a living in Miami now that he is no longer a cop. Ludacris, is here, for some reason. The FBI show up and put our boy over a barrel until he helps them investigate another crime ring, with his car.

The cinematography and general visual language is much more mature, they've figured out how to shoot cars driving and in particular races in a way that better conveys relative position, advantage, and speed. No more undercranked footage, much more medium to wide shots of cars weaving past each other, as well as some complicated composited motion shots.

If you look for this movie on Tumblr you mostly find gifs of Devon Aoki in her girlboss pink Honda S2000. And yeah, I get it, this look kicks ass. The leather skirt and thigh highs with garters or whatever that is really screams 2003.

Right, the plot. Even more so than last time, the core plot is extremely mid. Brian is over a barrel, and needs to help the FBI investigate a drug lord, in exchange for them forgetting about him. He doesn't trust a cop to partner with him so he gets them to offer a deal to his old boyfriend Roman, with whom he had a falling out many years ago. The two of them go undercover smuggling money for the drug lord and eventually work through their differences and get the guy. Big whoop.

Far more interesting is how the interpersonal relationship of Brian and Roman is handled. These two feel like a couple who dated all through high school and broke up over a nasty disagreement when they were 19 and never really got over each other. The first time they meet they physically throw down and it looks like this.

Just straight guy things. I made a crack about 2 bi 2 curious in the last post and I was like "someone has to have made this joke before" and a) not really it looks like only a couple tweets but b) it led me to this short video essay on a bisexual reading of 2 Fast 2 Furious. I don't agree with all its finer points and I think the author completely misread some sections of the movie but you'll find far more agreement than disagreement from me with this one.

Carrying on, there's a lot of the awkward "I want to trust you, and I know I should be able to trust you, but I don't trust you" between these two. It's great, if you want to watch two very pretty guys go insane over each other for an hour and a half, this is a movie for you. I'm going to reiterate a lot of what's said in this video because it's all very obvious.

Before we continue, I need to note that what you don't see, oddly, is really any kind of coherent heterosexual romantic subplot. Like, there's one there, they do parts of it, but it's almost homeopathic. It's purely there to check the box. Monica is an undercover cop who's been with the drug lord for like a year and, in theory, Brian is attracted to her. There's discussion of this, he checks her out, they make bedroom eyes at each other, the drug lord gets jealous, it's a whole thing, but mostly you see that Roman is worried that Brian is going to do something stupid because he's attracted to her.

In the above video the author misinterprets one scene as Brian sleeping with Monica but they do not actually fuck! She shows up in the early morning to tell Brian that he's going to be betrayed but they do not, in fact, fuck! This is important to me because man, there's so little of that subplot going on. This subplot barely develops at all, they don't talk to each other much, and when they do it's only the barest flirting.

At one point Brian does a driving stunt to impress Monica and when he's done, Roman pulls up and goes "oh, he did that stunt? He learned that one from me." which. Come on there's no way to read that that doesn't at least suggest that maybe Roman did it to hit on Brian when they were younger.

Speaking of car stunts, those are used to convey character a lot better in this movie. Dishonorable side characters drive in annoying ways in races to make themselves hard to pass, Brian and Roman do a whole elaborate game of one-upsmanship during their driving audition for the drug lord, and a doubles drag race with high stakes serves as a major bonding moment where they learn to trust each other. There's much, much less plot and character going on explicitly but I think the photography and the storytelling are working together more closely in this movie.

The movie seems to care less about the cars themselves though. The Lancer and Eclipse they drive for much of the movie are not particularly attractive nor particularly powerful cars, and the Challenger and Camaro they pick up later are more plot device than eye candy, unless you're really into American Muscle I guess. The initial race includes Suki's S2000 and Brian's Skyline that both very quickly end up sidelined, you don't see much of them again. There is much less time spent in garages and at races here, which is part of why the core plot feels like a lot of other action movies where the protagonist is a criminal helping the cops. I wonder if some of this is down to appealing to a wider audience who may just not give a shit about the finer distinctions between the Honda Civic EF and EX hatch.

There's a beautiful sunset scene where Brian and Roman just talk it out for a few minutes and settle their differences, come to terms, and finally trust each other again. I know I'm pretty much only talking about this one relationship but it's pretty much the only part of the movie with any depth, and the other parts only gain value in their proximity to it.

The final sequence is a huge endurance run across Florida that is a lot of fun to watch and includes a very funny scene where they scramble like, a hundred cars as a distraction to throw the police off. If you watch you can see that they really just grabbed whatever cars they could find to pad out the shot, there's like three or four PT Cruisers hidden in here.

The final run is mostly a show of the reformed trust between these two, it's great, it's a decent culmination of what's been building up through the whole show, they get their freedom, together, and resolve to move on together.

The whole movie really hangs on this relationship, it elevates it from a solid 5/10 "absolutely mid action movie" to a 7/10 "compelling characters you will think about later" type deal.

[fourdiagnosesinatrenchcoat]

The interesting things about Leverage, to me (having watched 2 seasons):

1. The group leader is the wildcard who everyone else has to keep an eye out for when he inevitably goes off the rails. Usually in team heist stories it's more likely to be the hitter resorting to violence (Firefly, Jayne; Burn Notice, Fiona), or the rookie trying to prove himself (poor Jesse in The Fast & the Furious), or whatever roll Steve Zahn's character has in Out of Sight. When it IS the leader who goes off plan it's more often for reasons of revenge or romance (Danny Ocean) or coercion (Dom in F8 of the Furious).

But Nate is unwell and unhinged, and instead of having him go fully into recovery, the narrative lets him just keep making dicey decisions and forcing the team to choose to support him every time. And they do! They are fully onboard with his very bad plans because he's family. They sideeye him and question him but they don't force him into rehab and in the end they still follow him.

2. This show is the closest network television I've ever seen to being abolitionist, anti-cop, anti-prison. They have that one Boston cop they insist is a good guy but essentially they do not believe in cooperating with or involving police, they do not believe that most crimes warrant prison time.

[thosedamnsmoshkids]

u know i’m obsessed with crime does pay… i think about it regularly and was thinking about trevor in the cdp world, and it begs the question who would the new cast members play in your fanfic??

OHHHHHHH MY GODDDDDDDD THIS IS SO GOOD okay im high as shit and i feel like i know so little about the new cast members except like angela because i love to watch her compilations but if i were to do a cdp 3 this time its for all the cheese (because technically cdp 2 electric boogaloo DOES exist canonically its based in liberty city with ian and anthony (and some of the new cast members at the time) it was the tentitive sequel called 'crack the sky' planned at one point but i got #bored)

god im literally going to go back and read the epilogue of cdp so i can refresh my memory. i reread it. its more insane than i remember.

okay okay okay even though like an important part of current smosh is their interactions with members who were in cdp but i think they'd be seperate? like the new members would have a completely different crew but maybe they'd be mentioned in the background

my first instinct was drag racers, like competitive racers ala the fast and the furious, but the more i think about it the more im like. wait theyre a heist crew. im not sure what their main conflict would be but knowing my tastes for dynamics now it would absolutely be like an insane polycule character study

trevor is actually the new member i know the least amount but i know he came from mythical originally and is often teased for being young compared to the rest of the cast. im getting like maybe mechanic/fixit gadget guy vibes.

amanda is absolutely the face woman, she's the one who can change like a chameleon into any person needed for a con. big big flirt, usually uses charm in order to get what she wants.

angela is your wildcard jack of all trades. knows how to shoot a gun but should you let her? can squeeze her way out of any circumstance, number one skill is pickpocketing and misdirection.

chanse is your art thief cat bugler who knows way too much about fancy parties and art history

arasha gives me both mastermind vibes but also the vibes of someone who isn't a permanent member of the crew and works with both them and others, and brings them in info occasionally

spencer is guy in the chair for REALSIES hes your tech geek nerd boy. i can see tommy playing a similar role to him that kate played in cdp here. what can i say the spommy propaganda worked on me

the polycule would be insane tho these bitches would be so unproductive at crime because they're busy with their personal problems

[bumblesimagines]

I've spent days trying to figure out what to do first so....

I've been flipflopping between all of these unable to choose which one to complete and post for you all. Some of these will be longer than others (such as the SE one) while others will likely be decently short (FAF one until a new movie comes out).

The Last Of Us - Our Flickering Light

Joel Miller x M!Reader (TW/CW: Violence, zombies, big age gap in a romantic relationship (Y/N is in his late twenties fyi))

Following the adoptive son of Frank and Bill, (Y/N) will set off to help Joel on his mission to get Ellie to the fireflies and find a cure to save the world. Along this journey, (Y/N) will develop a good friendship with Ellie and eventually a romantic relationship with Joel. Depending on how they approach season 2, this fic may be contained to just season 1 and a part or two that take place between seasons.

Daisy Jones and The Six - Money and Glory

Camila Dunne/Alvarez x M!Reader (TW/CW: Infidelity, mentions of addictions, drug mention)

Following Teddy Price's adoptive-but-not-adopted son, (Y/N) is a rockstar at the peak of his career. With adoring fans and undeniable talent, his producer and father figure, Teddy Price, wants him to take a chance on a fresh band named The Six. However, turbulent friendships and rivalries are formed, and it isn't long before he finds himself in a sticky and complicated love square between a married couple and a certain impulsive redhead.

Sex Education - As You Like It

Maeve Wiley x M!Reader (TW/CW: Vulgar language, sex talk obviously, drug mention, SA mention, mature topics, teenage angst)

After being forced to leave America and follow his mother to the United Kingdom, (Y/N) enrolls in Moordale Secondary School where he quickly becomes acquainted with the school's 'bad girl', Maeve Wiley. Similar humor and opinions lead them to forming a close friendship, but platonic feelings soon become romantic and they're forced to navigate the unknown world of love and trust.

Bridgerton - Peonies and Camellias

Daphne Bridgerton x M!Reader (TW/CW: Enforced traditional gender roles/opinions, men being men, missed signals and mixed signals)

Nobody's surprised when the known hopeless romantic, Daphne Bridgerton, falls in love with her childhood friend, (Y/N). After years of quietly pining and envisioning a future together, Daphne finally sees her dream come close enough to touch when she finally enters the social season as a proper woman. But, it seems destiny's playing tricks on her and she's left frustrated when her friend can't seem to take the hint. So, she enlists the help of the Duke to help win the heart of her beloved.

Fast and Furious - Thicker Than Water

Fast Crew x M!Reader (TW/CW: Gun mention, war crimes being done ngl, lotta cars, familial issues, angst)

When Jakob Toretto emerges from the shadows and puts himself on the radar of the Fast Crew, Dom is forced to join the fight and put an end to his brother's mayhem. But Jakob's not alone. Working with him is a younger, quicker, and equally as ruthless young man and the two become a formidable duo. Amidst the chaos and fighting, Letty is forced to confront a secret she'd long buried: the son she abandoned who's back and on the side of the enemy.

I have other fic series in mind but their lengths are unknown thus I can't add them to this poll as I don't want to accidentally do a really long fic without doing the promised Sansa Stark one first. This list includes Alicent Hightower x M!Targaryen!Reader (HOTD), a Artemis Crock x M!Reader (Young Justice), a Rosalie Hale x M!Reader x Emmett Cullen (Twilight), Tommy Shelby x M!Reader (Peaky Blinders), Cassie Howard x M!Reader x Maddy Perez (Euphoria, Double Trouble remake), and Hargreeves x M!Hargreeve!Reader (The Umbrella Academy).

[killerandhealerqueen]

Hi! What famous franchises from anime, TV series or movies have you watched? What do you like the most? I have a lot of ideas with crossovers, but I do not know what you watched and therefore it is difficult for me to continue something.

Vita, my dear, hello!

Oh dear...okay. Let me see...

Movies

Lord of the Rings triology

The Hobbit triology

Men in Black triology

Almost all Disney princess movies

Fast and Furious Presents: Hobbs and Shaw

Coraline

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Box Trolls

Howl's Moving Castle

Maleficent 1 & 2

All High & Low Movies

Drama/Movie Masterlist (for all cmovies/kmovies/jmovies)

All Daniel Craig James Bond movies (except for the newest one)

A few marvel movies

Knives Out

Glass Onion: A Knives Out Story

Miss Congeniality 1 & 2

The Shining

Dr. Sleep

Others...

TV Shows/Dramas

Drama/Movie Masterlist (for all cdramas/kdramas/jdramas & others)

CSI: Miami (all 10 seasons but I'm already doing a fanfic with this tv show for K&H)

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (a few episodes/season)

FBI

Hawaii-Five 0 (reboot)

Sherlock

NCIS: New Orleans

NCIS: Los Angeles

NCIS: Hawaii

Will Trent

Chicago PD

The Cleaning Lady

Law & Order (all seasons except for the new ones)

Law & Order: SVU (a few episodes/seasons)

House M.D.

Definitely more...

Anime

Black Butler

Hetalia

Spy x Family

Buddy Daddies

Ace Attorney

Dragon Ball (all series and movies)

(I don't watch a lot of anime...wish I did)

That's all I can think of for now...but if there's something that you want me to headcanon and you're afraid that it's something I haven't seen, just send it anyways! I can figure it out. I don't want you to not send something in just because you think I haven't seen something or you think it's something I may not like (though I'm not really a fan of horror, so maybe don't send that). I'm pretty good at figuring stuff out. So just send away! I always love whatever you send me