#someone get rid of those jackasses already

[escapedaudios]

Why are AI scientists trying so hard to replace the labor of artists when real estate agents are right over there. Like holy shit can we please eliminate that worthless profession for once.

[saetoshi]

“you make me sick.”

those were the words that had marked the end of your first (and only) conversation with itoshi sae.

it was supposed to mean you’d never have to see him again aside from the fleeting moments you’d bump into each other in the hallway. (you were grateful for it too. it meant not having to deal with the ungrateful jerk for longer than necessary.)

or so you’d thought. until you found him standing outside your door, scowling.

you glare at him, “why’re you here?”

“why’d you take so long to open the door?” he crosses his arms.

“i was doing this wonderful thing called sleeping,” you huff, “it’d do you well, jackass.”

he clicks his tongue in annoyance, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor. you lean against your doorframe, crossing your arms.

your brows furrow. “why are you here?”

“i got locked out of my apartment.”

you bite back the smile that threatens to bloom in your lips. you cough in a poor attempt to hide your amusement, “so?”

“so,” sae’s frown deepens. “i need someplace to stay the night.”

disgust flashes through your face. “can’t you call security to open the door for you?”

“they can’t do anything until it’s morning.”

“that’s not my problem,” you tsk, “just ask someone else if you can crash at their place.”

he looks away from you, seemingly embarrassed, as a soft flush spreads through his face. “you’re the only person i know in the whole building.”

you gape. he tugs at the strings in his hoodie.

(how embarrassing. and awkward. for him, of course, he just unknowingly gave you some excellent blackmail material.)

“are you gonna let me in?”

the way he says it tugs at your heartstrings. he reminds you of a lost puppy, in a way. (an ugly, rude puppy. nevertheless, it makes you feel a bit of pity for him.)

you rub your temples and sigh, “do not make me regret it.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” there’s a twinkle in his eyes when he says that. it worries you. it’s enough to consider kicking him out before he even sets foot inside your apartment.

but that would mean you’re just as mean as he is. and you find the idea of sharing something in common with him to be sickening.

you sigh, opening the door to you apartment.

“this is your place?”

you don’t even have to turn around to see the judgmental look on his face. (you regret letting him in already.)

you take a deep breath, “is there a problem with it?”

“not at all.” he sounds condescending. it makes you wonder what kind of stick is up his ass. you hope he gets rid of it soon. you also hope to get rid of him too.

“i don’t have any extra rooms,” you turn around to look at him, “so you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

he lets out a displeased scoff. “the couch?”

“yeah,” you frown, “why?”

“i’m an athlete.” he glares at the couch, “i can’t sleep in that.”

“what, it’s gonna break your back or something?”

“i’ve got practice tomorrow morning.”

“well,” you purse your lips, “next time you leave your apartment don’t forget your keys.”

he glares at you, “i’m not sleeping in that couch.”

you glare back, “neither am i.”

the next couple of minutes are a blur. you don’t know what happened. and, as you stare at the ceiling, you’re not sure you want to know how you ended up sharing a bed with sae. (at least you had the sense to insist on dividing the bed with pillows.)

you softly curse when you feel him shift on the other side, pulling the blanket off of you.

you frown as you harshly pull the blanket back on your side. you groan in exasperation when he yanks it off again. “do you mind?”

“‘m cold.” he mutters.

“and you think i’m not?” you snap at him.

he groans. you pull the blanket back. he pulls it enough for both of you to be covered by it.

“don’t even think about getting rid of the pillows,” you mumble.

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” his voice is laced with drowsiness.

“g’night,” you yawn. he grunts back in response. you drift off to sleep, hoping he’ll be gone by the time you wake up.

you were half-right. his alarm woke you up. still, you fell asleep again as he was getting out of bed.

though, you have to admit, it was a nice surprise waking up to find pancakes (and post-it with a poorly scribbled ‘thanks’) by your bedside table. (even if they were burnt.)

you decide that maybe (just maybe) you’ll have to return the favor someday and make him a decent meal. (you’d hate for your neighbor to poison himself with his lack of cooking skills before getting to know him.) 

[sabo-valcoran]

I've seen a lot of discourse about fandoms lately. Lots of people out there being terminally online. Now, I'm just some chick with a blog, but I might offer my two cents. This post mostly concerns antishippers and booktok, but it also has broader implications about censorship as a whole.

I'll start off with a pet peeve.

To me, having a DNI list is pointless and like having a digital sign that says "Kick Me" glued to your ass. It's just a convenient list of triggers and things you don't like provided free of charge to any jackass who wants to ruin your day. Putting everything that pisses you off out as a convenient list and then saying "please don't troll me!" is such a ridiculous concept to me. It doesn't do anything favorable for you at all. Personally, I theorize it's some kind of internet purity signal you put out in hopes that people that hate the same things as you won't assume you're in the out group.

But if you're that concerned about someone you don't like potentially following you, why not either block people you don't like? It might be hard to swallow, but you should accept the fact that putting yourself out there will inevitably result in this and you can't police everything. How terminally online do you have to be to comb through your follower list making sure everyone agrees with you? Who fucking cares?

Need I remind you, the censorship a lot of these people with the big dni lists want is a foot in the door for bad actors to start censoring queer people in media as a whole. We're already seeing it with websites that run on algorithms suppressing leftist and queer opinions and spaces because it's not marketable.

If you're advocating for media to be censored because it has things in it that make you uncomfortable, you're no better than Tipper Gore and the PMRC. You're no better than people who said D&D was the devil and we should all get rid of it because won't someone PLEASE think of the children. You're no better than those religious zealots burning LGBTQ library books in Virginia. I implore everyone reading this post, regardless of your opinions, to examine their perspective on what is acceptable. Is it truly worth the long-term consequences to remove things you deem problematic if the end result is totalitarian?

Sure, I'll probably get cancelled by people for saying this. There's a lotta shit I don't want to read out there. Hell, I don't want to read or experience any of the shit antis are mad about. The difference is just that I don't read it and don't fucking look for it instead of seeking it out and demanding it be erased. Please, I beg you, stop fucking caring so much about the interests of people you're never going to meet. If they make you upset, block them. Censorship isn't worth the consequences, and fiction doesn't affect reality.

[butterflyslinky]

Need to get this off my chest, gonna keep it out of the tags because I don't feel like getting into fights.

But to those saying Tommy Kinard is still the same racist asshole we met in the Begins episodes--what show are you watching?

Because the other characters from those same episodes are our vessel for knowing that Tommy has grown and changed in the intervening two decades since then.

(kind of long so under the read more)

If he was the same guy Chimney met in 2005, Chimney wouldn't call him up for favors that would put their lives and jobs in jeopardy, he'd find another solution. He wouldn't be coming in saying "that Tommy's so cool," he'd be saying "that guy's an asshole, I can't believe Eddie wants to hang out with him." He wouldn't say "that's okay, you were busy" to Tommy coming into his wedding late, he'd be saying "who invited you, get tf out." Chimney is not shy about saying what he thinks about people. If he had an issue with Tommy, we'd know.

And Chimney would tell Maddie what he thinks of Tommy, too. If his feelings were negative, Maddie wouldn't be so eager to meet him that she'd let Buck invite him to her wedding. Whatever else you can say about Maddie, she respects Chimney's feelings and wouldn't bring someone he doesn't want to hang out with under any circumstances to what's supposed to be a happy occasion for them. She wouldn't be saying Buck's problem was Eddie after the failed first date, she'd be saying "that guy's a dick anyway, it's a good thing it didn't work out."

Hen is even less shy about saying what she thinks about people. If Tommy was the same guy who called her a bitch thirteen years ago, she would have asked what the hell he was doing at Chimney's bachelor party. She wouldn't be smirking and saying "it's about time" about him kissing Buck, she'd be waiting to pull Buck aside and tell him "that guy's bad news." She and Karen wouldn't be asking about Tommy's intentions over cake, they'd be telling him to stay the hell away from their friend.

If Tommy was still the same immature jackass, Bobby wouldn't have kept him on at the 118 for close to a year before letting him decide to transfer to Harbour, he would have gotten rid of him as quickly and decisively as he did with Sal. He wouldn't be telling Buck "he's good people, he's good for you," he'd be saying "we need to have a serious talk about him." Bobby's super protective of Buck, especially vis-a-vis his relationships; if he thought Tommy was going to be a major problem, he would address it.

If Tommy was a complete douchebag, Eddie would notice. Eddie may not be the most emotionally in-tune guy, but he's also super guarded about who he lets into his life, let alone his son's life. If he had any doubts about Tommy's character, he wouldn't be hanging out with him multiple times a week and flying to Vegas. He wouldn't have him at his house enough for Christopher to think he's so cool. He wouldn't be inviting him on the birthday Zoom call. He'd keep a polite and professional distance and tell Buck that he doesn't like his boyfriend straight out.

(The only person in the extended 118 family who hasn't really expressed an opinion is Athena, who probably doesn't know Tommy well enough to have an opinion beyond "if Bobby likes him, that's good enough for me," though I would like to get some insight from her, especially if he helps with the plane rescue.)

But since almost all of Buck's nearest and dearest think Tommy's a decent guy, I think we can assume he's done a lot of work on himself and is genuinely a good person. As someone else pointed out, 911 is not a show that hides whether or not characters are supposed to be good or bad. It has the same subtlety about that as an orignal series Star Trek episode, so if Tommy was supposed to still be an asshole, we'd have been told that in great detail already.

[the-firebird69]

If she don’t stop her evil ways.#shorts #viral #moive

This guy started trouble and he's got all of them tons of loss and he asked this way he's a senile old piece of s*** and he should be stopped and our son is grateful those people like the battle of the crowbar is actually his grandson. Hey man that guy is a peevish a****** and he gets killed for a lot of stuff and he gets killed very often and he's going to get killed in a few minutes people are after him for this factory stuff in the clay.

And he is kind of a sellout is how he does it and he gets rid of his own people as well and it's not what I'm saying but he's a sucker

---right now they're a huge groups that are going up and there to fight over the celestials this jackass is sending people and he's sending a lot and is really not good at it he sucks and he's getting beat up out there just trying to compete with the empire and it's not doing a good job and his people are failing so he wakes up and it says I'm supposed to take over his body and dumb s*** like that and also I'm sure if you say that you did penalize but have you noticed that I'm just sitting here doing nothing and he says I'll tell them to do stuff so what you're listening to you at all and it says we're going to come in here and kidnap you and threaten your brain and stuff and he says there's no proof the brain would still be around unconscious and all of a sudden you start getting mad and he says so my plan is stupid I said you're playing this stupid your plans stupid and you're a conversation is not a conversation you're a spoiled child I got to bring your people in front of you everyday until you're dead see as that works get rid of you the idea is to get rid of you you are disgusting little life more on and unlike your people we don't need you at all and we don't need you around we don't need you as an excuse as a scapegoat or someone doing something wrong we just don't need you you're free to go. John wick is a joke and you did the joke it means you're pretty and it both ends and I do appreciate it you coming out on you we'll start turning it up on you. Every word out of your mouth and area code we're going to make your life more miserable because of sick of you talking over us saying dumb things when you're just an absolute moron that your time is running out and soon you'll be out cuz you're friend.

To say all this and not let him say anything he doesn't want to hear it it's just crap that comes out of this pie hole and we heard him screaming and yelling and he's saying he's going to have vengeance and all this s*** falls asleep tries to wake up you can't more or less died. woke up and it started ranting and raving demanding he put the wall up. And he says I'm going to try and shut the places down here so yeah I'm going to go shut them down and kill all your assholes and get rid of you and he says I'll just turned it on and get rid of your idiots which is probably what they're going to do so he went around and we saw them doing it earlier what they do is they get rid of his groups there and they start to bring us leadership in shrunken and they're going to do it to them and test out the wall material they already know that the max are doing it and they know that the max are grinding people up for it and what's doing the testing for their own wall and it's BJ a and in the clip it's neo trying to face him down cuz he started doing it it's one of his old guys who's a greedy moron and they're disgusting so he's taking his figure in his body out the door tell some guy telling the guy to f off this whale got his truck with a crowbar in the movie you don't see him hit him but off screen and smack them right in the head real good and he pulled himself back here and there's a little bit of blood yeah on his head and people caught it everywhere this guy is getting hit and he's a moron the max are doing it just doesn't mean that you have permission to do it

Thor Freya

Olympus

Thor Freya

Olympus

[charliekellysbitch]

Ryan dunn x f!reader

A/N: im sorry you’re about to read this, its not too late to scroll away :) also I wrote this in a state of awe after I had a dream so idk if it even makes sense but we’re here now

Word count?: 1.6k lol

It was no secret that being a jackass meant more fights than the average person. People had some convoluted idea of what you guys were, thinking that they could come up and hit one of you, or slap you, hell someone even stabbed Knoxville once. Having those kind of fans show up on a night out can turn an already crazy night into a blood bath.

You and Pontius were the scrappers of the group, anytime someone tried to start something the two of you came to the rescue. For one, Chris is truly a wild boy when he fights, just headbutts and right hooks over and over til he looks like Carrie. And second, none of these “hard men” ever wanted to hit a girl, so you kinda had free reign on getting rid of those assholes. You can’t deny though, your favourite part of a fight night was Dunn playing nurse for you when you got back to the hotel room. Years of him getting into fights himself meant he knew his way around a first aid kit (as did all the boys) but he just made you feel safer after a fight. He was just so gentle and he would brush your hair behind your ear, and kiss the grazes on your knuckles, god the man knew exactly what to do to leave you craving more. But no, he’d always just patch you up and leave you alone in your hotel room with too much pent up energy.

You guys were on tour in some random city and you just wanted a chill night out with no craziness. But then again, you had a tendency to hope for nights like that which would never come.

“Y/N get your ass out here right now or else we will drag you to the bar in whatever state of undress you’re in”. Chris was giggling as he hammered on your hotel room door so hard you thought it was about to bust in.

“Yeah yeah yeah give me two seconds I’m just putting my shoes on”. Looking at yourself in the mirror one last time you’re once again in awe of how you can clean up so well. It was barely two hours ago that you were covered in blue paint and red feathers, (some bit that Knoxville came up with called the woodpecker) but now here you were, in a pink mini skirt and a black tank top that hugged your curves so well. And yeah sure, you picked the tank top that had cky bedazzled onto it, that was purely a coincidence and not because you wanted to draw Dunns eyes to your chest. You don’t need to resort to tactics like that….

Wolf whistles greet you once you leave the room and you do the obligatory twirl to show off your outfit. “Dude you look so fucking hot, you planning on bringing someone home tonight huh?” “Steveo I was planning on it being you but if your too busy” you say fake pouting until the Knoxville cackle breaks through the silence.

“Christ y/n don’t be flirting with the guys when your all dressed up like this, their brains will short circuit” he continues laughing as he leads the charge out of the hotel to a street full of bars.

Then there’s someone whispering in your ear, “Steveo was right though, you do look ridiculously hot”. Swallowing, you turn to look at Ryan, because who else could say the same thing as Steveo but make it so heated?? His eyes keep flicking down to the cky on your chest and you can’t help but feel a smirk appear on your face. “Like what you-“

“HEY Y/N, how the hell are you gonna fight in those shoes?”

If looks could kill Chris Pontius would be 6ft under already. “Chris babe, we’re not gonna get into a fight tonight, that goes for everyone here” you say pointing at all the men around you, “I want a nice night out where I can drink and flirt and look sexy. I don’t want to have to bail your asses out when you bite off more than you can chew. Okay?”

With a mocking salute from Steveo and Chris you push on into the first bar you see. “I’m serious guys, no fights”.

Now if there was a book entitled “Famous Last Words”, ‘I’m serious guys no fights’ would be the first goddamn entry.

You weren’t in the bar more than 45 minutes when a group of guys come up to the booth you were drinking in claiming it was theirs and that you had to move.

“Listen guys, we’re sorry we didn’t realise someone had ownership on this booth, we’ll move out of your way once we finish this”. Tremaine was always trying to be the peacekeeper, and you definitely would’ve moved sooner but Bam and Steveo had started some sort of arm wrestling bet and even god wouldn’t move them from their spot right now.

“I don’t give a shit what you pussies are doing, get the fuck out of our booth right now” the guy was practically growling his demands and his little entourage were cracking their knuckles as if that was to strike fear into your hearts. Normally, fists would be flying already but the guys had promised no fights and they were trying their hardest to stick to that.

“Look fellas, let the guys finish their arm wrestle and then we’ll get out of your hair, no harm no foul” you say trying to placate them. And it would’ve worked, you would’ve gotten a night free from violence if it weren’t for the next words that came out of that smooth brained bastards mouth. “Sweetheart there’s no way these guys are paying you enough to use your mouth for talking, so quit while your ahead, otherwise we can take you outback and show you what a good time really is, bet a slut like you would enjoy that.”

You barely had time to clench your fist before Chris was on him. That’s when the entourage jumped in and Bam was abandoning the previously vital arm wrestle in favour of elbow slamming into the guys from the table. You started to get a few hits in too. Then one of the guys grabbed you, clearly assuming that you wouldn’t be much of a fighter, and with your wrists held in his hands he was almost safe. Until you practically broke his nose with a headbutt and put your knee so far into his balls you’re convinced he’ll have heartburn when he wakes up the next day. That’s when you hear the sirens and from the filthy windows of the bar you see the hints of blue and red flashing lights “GUYS COPS QUICK GO” you scream trying to warn the rest of the guys to run. Ryan grabs your hand and drags you out, the guys all following behind but when you get outside you quickly realised that you’d have to split up.

Running for a while, and winding through backroads you and Ryan eventually come to a stop in the middle of some neighbourhood. It was completely silent, no sign of cops, or in fact of anyone awake at that hour. Still holding your hand the two of you start to stroll in the direction of nowhere in particular.

“You have blood on your face” Ryan says pointing at your forehead, “don’t get me wrong it’s a good look on you, the whole bad girl thing, but the thought of that dudes blood on you is super gross”. He’s right of course, it was gross, but all you were thinking about was him saying he liked the bad girl thing.

“Hmmm so you’re into me being the fighter of our little group?” smirking up at him when he starts laughing.

“I guess you could say that, but I like patching you up afterwards more” with that he takes your knuckles and kisses them. This wasn’t unusual but with all the adrenaline from the night you just can’t take it anymore, you grab his face and shove your lips against his. When he starts kissing back with as much desperation as you, you moan into his mouth.

So that’s how you ended up here, at the side of some random house in the middle of god knows where with your skirt hiked up around your waist and Ryan goddamn Dunn whispering things you couldn’t have dreamed up in your ear.

“You’re so fucking hot like this, whimpering for me out in the open” he’s kissing up your neck as he’s whispering all of this to you. You want to say something sexy and cheeky back but all you can manage is a pitiful “please”.

“Please what baby? Tell me what you want, use your words or I’ll leave you here high and dry”. You know he’s teasing, that he’s as turned on as you and won’t be able to leave you but the way his fingers are barely ghosting over your underwear is killing you

“Please Ryan please fuck me, I need you, I need you inside me right now”

And god the smile on his face when you say that could’ve melted you, “well since you asked so nicely”.

Your panties are pulled off and shoved in his pocket and he’s lifting you up to wrap your legs around your waist. “You ready baby?” He says as he lines himself up. And just as you’re about to get what you’ve been dreaming of for months, the lights on the house your pressed up against come on and some dude is is screaming out the window that he’s calling the cops on the two of you.

“FUCK SAKE” Ryan screams, letting you down and for the second time that night grabbing your hand and leading you away from the sirens getting closer.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {21}*

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, ANGST, Plot, Fluff, Mildly NSFW, Violence, Blood, Death, Verbal mention of Rape, Potentially Triggering Discussion

Words: 6.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

You pushed off of him to an upright position, not sure you’d heard him right. “Say what!?”

 Chris sat up as well and leaned on the headboard.

 “Yeah. Abel, the detective, found that the video was doctored. It was spliced together using so many different audio clips dating back to when Knives Out was announced. She had someone doctor it to make it seem like it was me, or recent and current me.”

 You were ready to claw her eyes out. “That bitch!”

 Chris sighed. “That’s not it,” he began. He reached for your hand and brought you closer. You swung your leg over his lap and sat on his thighs, giving him your undivided attention.

 “Remember the picture of her in the sweater?”

 Clenching your jaw, you nodded. “The one from your room?”

 He nodded. “You’re right—it was from my room.”

 You gaped at him, ready to lunge at him, but you stopped yourself.

 “She snuck in, stripped down, and posted it. Abel was able to get security footage from the hotel. She bribed one of the housekeeping staff. They let her in, and it was at the same time I was on call for press. The timestamp shows it. I’m thinking she knew it would set you off and create problems between us.”

 You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was insane. Why would someone go to these lengths?

 “Wow.” You rubbed your forehead, trying to wrap your head around everything. Not only were you still grappling with everything that happened since the accident, including things with Christiano, but the babies and Chris’s downward spiral, but now this. “Oh my god.”

 “The investigator uncovered a video from the hotel—and so much more.” Chris released a heavy breath then took your hand. “It all points to her, Riah.”

 His fingers traced imaginary patterns on my hand and along the length of my fingers.

 “And the text messages?” You couldn’t help yourself. Chris looked up from your hand and to your waiting eyes. The look on his face was an inquisitive one. “The ones between you and her about us,” you finished.

 There was no look of shock; he just looked resolved, as if he somehow knew that you knew.

 “How do you know about that?”

 “I did something crazy,” you began before pausing to find the right way to explain.

 It only took a few moments to forego any strategic plan and lay it out. So that is what you did. You explained your mission impossible operation with Kizzy and Zora a few weeks ago at Chris’s press junket. You explained being in the elevator to witness Ana’s blatant flirting. You explained, taking her purse and going through her phone to find out how devious she was. By the time you finished, the silence in the room was deafening. Chris hadn’t moved or spoken since you began. The look on his face was so masked and neutral that you couldn’t tell if he was on the brink of an angry outburst or a disappointed one.

 Suddenly Chris snorted loudly then laughed obnoxiously, clapping his free hand across his chest. The laugh went on so long to the same caliber that you couldn’t help but join in. So the two of you sat there laughing together for several long minutes. Once both of you were laughed out, you just stared at each other.

 “I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Chris started first, continuing to rub your hand. “I knew who I married.”

 He sighed and shook his head. That was when you saw the remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about it all, but I didn’t want to hurt you or have you doubt me.”

 Chris clenched his jaw then crinkled his brow. “In hindsight, I know it looked really suspicious. There are so many things I see now that I didn’t then. I shouldn’t have even had those text exchanges. It’s not her place to know anything small or not about our marriage. Jesus.” Chris took his hand away then raked it through his hair before locking his hands behind his neck—one of his frustrated ticks. His eyes were dropped to your thighs, and that’s where they remained.

 “I’m sorry, Riah.”

 His voice sounded clouded, and that was the only indication you needed to know his emotions were getting the better of him.

 “I’ve been so stupid. So stupid,” he choked out.

 “Baby.” You slid closer to him, grabbing his elbows to pull them down to rest on top of your thighs. “Look at me.”

 You raised his chin so he was looking into your eyes. His tears stained his cheeks and welled his eyes. You’d wanted him to see the error of his ways so many times. You’d wished he could see it your way and understand, and now that he did, you should have felt vindicated, but you didn’t. There really were no winners when the family feuds.

 Dropping your face into the crook of his neck, you inhaled his scent.

 “I’m sorry, dragonfly,” Chris whispered, wrapping his arms around you holding you close. “So sorry.”

 “Baby—look at me.”

 He pulled back enough for you to peer into his eyes. As you caressed his cheek, you spoke.

 “It’s okay. I—you--,” you sighed, then traced your thumb across his bottom lip. “I understand. There has been so much—pain, so much sorries and--.” Again you stopped for a few seconds.

 “No more,” you finished.

 Chris slowly nodded his head, grasping your meaning. He then kissed your thumb and nuzzled his bearded jaw into your palm. Though you wanted to move on, there was one more burning question, one more thing you had to know. Nibbling your bottom lip, you found your courage.

 “Were—were you tempted?”

 You couldn't look at him, so you kept your head down.

 “What? Tempted? To do what?”

 Meeting his eyes, you swallowed, then continued.

 “Cheat,” you whispered.

 Chris sat up straight, and he cupped your face within his large hands. His eyebrows were crooked with the intense, take me serious look he always got when he was about to say something important.

 “Look at me. Never.”

 You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you.

 “Listen and hear me, Uriah, never, ever. I would never. I told you I married you for a reason. I had a plan. Forever and a day, Uriah. You promised me forever and a day, and I won’t stand for anything less. I’m collecting all of it. Forever and a day.”

Fighting the tears, you scoffed. “You were a jackass. When I tell you a woman wants you, don’t doubt me.”

 Chris smiled and nodded. “I was. Never again. We don’t be here again. I’m going to be Pence from now on. You must be present at all times, or I’m not alone with any women.”

 You busted out laughing, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the heaviness of the last few weeks. It felt almost normal, like the two of you were on your way. Chris kissed you once, then twice before resting his forehead to yours.

 “We have to nail her ass to the wall,” you declared, staring into his eyes.

 “Oh, definitely. What did you have in mind, Mrs. Evans?”

 “You didn’t file the papers?”

 Chris scoffed, then rolled his eyes.

 “I don’t know who you think I am, but you’re gonna have to try harder than divorce papers to get rid of me, Dragonfly.”

 Again you smiled. “So whatever I want, you won’t be the voice of sympathy?”

 “Whatever you want, kitten,” Chris replied, kissing the tip of your nose, making your belly flutter in the process.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m so happy that you’re okay, sweetheart,” your mother said as she pulled you into a group hug with your father.

 “I’ll be okay, mom.”

 Your father cupped your cheek, taking the time to inspect your face. You knew he wasn’t looking for physical harm. He was realizing how close he’d come to losing you, how he’d failed you. You could tell. When Chris had called them to update them, they instantly wanted to hear your voice. When they did, they broke, and that breaking turned to shattered when everything came out.

 You’d spent two hours on the phone with them, listening to them apologize and blame themselves for putting so much trust in Christiano. They felt horrible for never suspecting that he would stoop so low. They begged you not to hate them, begged you to forgive them. It was easy to promise them you weren't angry because you understood. You didn’t blame them or hold a grudge for them not doing more. They had no idea who Christiano really was—you didn’t either. The only one who ever saw him for who he was, was Chris.

 “I’m so sorry, Uriah. As your father, I should have done more to keep you away from him.”

 “Daddy, don’t. There is nothing you could have done. You did the best with what the information you had—you all did,” you assured, looking around at the faces of everyone you loved, both your family and Chris’s.

 Lisa approached and pulled you into another hug. You could feel her tears.

 “I’m okay, I promise.”

 “I am so happy that you are.” Her hand dropped to your bump, and she smiled. “That you all are.”

 Just like that, the waterworks started again, and everyone huddled around you, everyone but Chris, who was standing back most likely watching with a cheesy smile on his face. When they released you, your guess was correct. Chris smiled, then winked at you.

 “So how are we getting those sons of bitches?”

 All eyes snapped to Zora, who looked as if she was ready to rip out a heart and eat it.

 “Down girl—Chris has already laid the groundwork,” you said.

 “And it was easy, just play into that colossal ego of his,” Chris finished, kissing my temple.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

MSG Love Of My Life: Remember, don’t let him goad you. He’s going to try.

 He scoffed; it was an understatement.

 MSG: I’m good. He can’t get me to because I have what he doesn’t, and I know something he doesn’t.

MSG Love Of My Life: You do have me. Forever and a day, my love. <Kiss emoji, heart emoji>

MSG: You should have let me go with you. I don’t like you’re alone.

MSG Love Of My Life: I’m not alone. I have my parents, Kizzy, Zora, your sisters, your mom, our lawyers. I am far from alone.

MSG: You know what I mean.

MSG Love Of My Life: I don’t think I could relive it all with you next to me anyway. It’s better this way. I’ll see you soon. Remember what I said. <Kiss>

 He sighed and tried to push aside the guilt he felt. He wanted to be with you, holding your hand. You’d gone through too much alone, and all he wanted to do now was protect you.

 MSG Scott: Need me to come up?

MSG: Nah, I can handle this.

MSG Scott: Okay.

 He slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared out over the canyons and LA down below. It was a beautiful sight, one he liked a lot but not better than the changing leaves of Autumn in Massachusetts. He would never choose LA over them. It was, however, a good change of pace, but it staled quickly. Standing here, it was easy to forget the chaos of the last few months. Easy to forget that merely days ago, he’d thought his life was over, and it would never be the same.

 “I can’t believe you suggested this. What, you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s cool; I don’t mind helping you with that.”

 The sound of his voice was enough to make him want to turn around swinging, then drag him to the edge and kick him off Sparta style. He didn’t deserve to live, not after what he’d done to you. He clenched his jaw and tightened his fist, and slowly released a breath. Once he was sure he had some sort of control over his reflexes, he turned. Christiano looked as smug as ever. He’d never wanted to take a life, but right now, right here, he thought of at least ten ways in under one minute. They all involved pain.

 “So, what air is there to clear?”

 He clenched his jaw before he spoke.

 “She’s still my wife.”

 “Ah, ah, ah, according to those divorce papers she sent over, even that is limited time. Face it man; you’ve lost. I’ve won. I always win. I always get what I want, no matter what. It’s hilarious to me that you thought swooping into her life like that and marrying her on a whim would have changed things. Uriah has always been mine. She was always meant to be mine.”

 His hatred for the man in front of him was already at toxic levels. He had no idea how it was possible for it to increase. Staring at him and hearing the venom he just spewed did the trick.

 “So, this is just a game to you? This is her life—this is our life. All of this is for what?”

 “To win what’s rightfully mine. I’m Christiano White. I get what I want when I want it, and that includes women. No one takes what’s mine. No one, and she’s mine!”

 The smugness on his face was the most upsetting thing. He didn’t care hearing him profess fake ownership. He didn’t even care that Christiano thought he had so much privilege that he would get away with his insane plane. Even the thought that him being Christiano White meant jack shit. What really got to him was the fact he’d done this to prove some stupid, sick point. He’d played with his life, your life, and the life of his children for the sake of winning. He stepped to Christiano, ready to push his ass off the cliff, but before he touched him, the thought of you and those innocent babies flashed into his mind. There was no way he’d do this to you guys, he thought.

 Gathering some calm, he stepped back. Christiano chuckled.

 “Thay’s right. Recognize when you’ve lost, and oh, have you lost. Let me tell you how bad you’ve lost. She was in my bed, letting me touch her, kiss her, please her. She shouted my name, over and over. Not yours.”

 He scoffed. “You sure? My name’s Chris. Did she say, Christiano?”

 The smirk on Christiano’s face slipped, and rage replaced it. It was a small piece of satisfaction, but it was worth it, especially since he knew for a fact you’d called his name—Chris and not the latter. Though your brain didn’t remember him, your subconscious did, your heart did, your soul did. There was no room for anyone else. He nearly laughed in Christiano’s face because it had taken him this long to grasp that fully. There had only ever been you and him.

 “You only have yourself to blame. Who would dare cheat on Uriah? Who would think to replace a diamond with a pebble? You’re an idiot,” Christiano jabbed before he laughed out. “Don’t worry, once we’re married, things will be better for her.”

 “How do you plan on getting married if we’re still legally married?”

 For the second time, the smile Christiano wore slipped. He looked around as if he expected someone to come out.

 “For now,” Christiano scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you walking up behind Christiano. Catching on, he spun around.

 “Babe, what’re—what’re you doing here? I thought we were meeting tonight.”

 Christiano approached you with his arms out, but you walked past him to his waiting arms instead. Once he wrapped his arm around your waist, you kissed his lips, then turned to Christiano, who looked confused, angry, and a few other emotions he most likely hadn’t put together yet.

 “For always,” you said.

 “What the fuck!”

 “Surprise,” he said, slipping his hand down to your hip. Christiano’s eyes dropped to his hand before he clenched his jaw. The annoyance from minutes ago was worth it.

 “What was the plan, Christiano? It’s bigamy to be married to two people at once. Our marriage would have been null in void. What was the goal!?”

 Christiano took a step to you, making him grip your hip tighter, ready to get in between you.

 “I’m better than him. I’m richer, I look better, and I’m better in bed. Admit it, Riah. I don’t lose to men like him. I wasn’t done with you,” Christiano confessed with bitterness in his voice.

 You pulled from him, taking a step to Christiano. “So you decided to turn me into a pawn! You decided to lie to me, manipulate me and—rape me?!”

 “Shut up, I didn’t--,” he began before you cut him off.

 “Yes, you did! I was not of sound mind. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even know who I was. You knew. You fucking knew, and you used that and stole from me. Admit it!”

 Sensing things were about to go south, he stepped between the two of you, pulling back to a safe distance.

 “That’s right, fuck it! Yes, I did all of that. I’ll admit it. Yes, I manipulated you to get what I wanted. I couldn’t lose to this dick. I couldn’t let you go. I wouldn’t. I did what was necessary. I took what was mine, and I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”

 That was all he could stomach before he turned and decked him with all the force he possessed. Christiano dropped to the dirt and writhed for a few moments before he slowly stood laughing like a lunatic with the blood dripping from his nose.

 “You’re insane. You tried to kill my children because I ended things and found better?”

 “There is no better than me!”

 He spread his arms out, not caring where the blood that spewed from him went. “Uriah, you know you love me. You loved the feel of a real man between your legs. Just tell him.”

 Glancing at you, he realized you were crying now.

 “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I can’t believe you’d hurt me this way.”

 He wrapped his arms around you, hoping to comfort you in some way. Looking back at Christiano, he was in time to see him charging toward him. He quickly moved you out of the way and threw a punch that connected with Christiano’s jaw. Instead of going down, Christiano lunged at him, gripping him around his waist, trying to bring him down to the ground. He almost laughed. Sending his knee into his gut, he spun and put Christiano in a chokehold keeping him there.

 It was then a group of police officers came running toward them.

 “Look at that. You lost, not just once, but twice and now—a third.”

 He wanted to snap his neck, and thinking of everything he’d put them through, he almost did. Two officers ran up to him, both of them taking Christiano by his arms.

 “We’ve got it from here.”

 Reluctantly he let Christiano go and allowed the law to take the wheel. Going to you, he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears.

 “I’m here.”

 You hugged him, and he just held you. There was no need for words.

  -That Night-

“I love you.”

 Those words were like music to his ears. There was a time he didn’t think he’d ever hear them again. Gently pulling your head back, he peered into your eyes while caressing your cheek. He loved seeing you like this with your hair free, hovered over him, with the moon as your backdrop.

 “I love you more,” he whispered.

 “Forever and a day?”

 He smiled, remembering your promises, and pressed his forehead to yours. “Forever and a day, dragonfly.”

 You kissed him softly, taking the time to tease his lips, nibbling his bottom one before burying your face in the crook of his neck as you rocked against him, sending him higher and higher until he felt as if his soul left his body.

 “Uriah!”

 It felt like he was no longer in his body but instead hovering overhead like a fly watching your bodies entangled together. There was no other sight he loved as much. You rolled off of him and found your place beside him, resting your head on his chest, right over his heart. You both sighed.

 “After this is done, let’s go back to Massachusetts full time,” you quietly said after a few minutes.

 “What?” he turned to look at you, needing to see if you meant it.

 “Do you mean that?”

 “Yeah. I never wanted to raise kids in LA, and you know I love Massachusetts. Let’s have these babies in the house you built for us,” you added.

 He couldn’t believe his ears. It wasn’t that you’d ever expressed not wanting to live in Massachusetts full time; it was that he knew how much of your career was still in LA. With him, he was spending less and less time here, but you, it seemed it was more and more.

 “How is that going to work with your career?”

 You rolled slightly onto your side, then trailed your hand across his chest down his stomach to rest nonchalantly atop his manhood. Groaning, he wrapped one of his arms under his head.

 “I’m taking a few years off.”

 The shock had his junk jumping in your hand, making a wide smile spread across your face. “Wow, talk about talent,” you teased.

 He rolled you onto your back and climbed on top of you, nestling himself between your spread thighs.

 “Don’t play with me, Mrs. Evans.”

 You smiled widely as you fondled him with one hand. Not being strong enough to have this conversation while you did that, he grabbed your hand and pressed it over your head, gripping you at your wrist.

 “No fair,” you pouted.

 “Say that again.”

 You smiled, clearly loving that fact he was hanging by a flimsy piece of thread.

 “I said I’m taking a few years off.”

 He couldn’t stop his grin. “Really?”

 “Yeah. What do you think? Would you want that?”

 “You’re kidding. Of course, yes! It would be just the two of us day in, day out. No movie sets, no studio time, no photoshoots.”

 “Eh-em, excuse you. You mean just the five of us,” you corrected.

 It didn’t take him long to get it. You, him, babies, and Dodger.

 “I love you, Mrs. Evans.”

 “I love you, Mr. Evans.”

 You kissed him once, then twice before your hands roamed down his back to grip his ass, making him moan and chuckle at the same time. He’d missed this and you.

 “Hang on, baby; I gotta--,” he began.

 “Ah, that after nut pee calls, huh. Fine. Go ahead. I'll just be here, pregnant and horny.”

 He snorted and rolled off of you before hurrying to the bathroom.

 “Oh, I’m coming back, cause—that sounds like a very pressing situation that needs my undivided attention.”

 You giggled as he dipped into the bathroom. He hurried to the toilet and tried his best to aim properly but an erection and peeing straight made for a tricky situation. Once he’d gotten the hang of it and the common sense to curve his body a little, he was good and groaned long and loud as he relieved himself. The silence in the bathroom gave him the time to fully react to the prospect of moving back to Massachusetts full time for the next few years. He couldn’t wait. Life was about to change for the better.

 Once finished, he flushed and washed his hands before stepping back into the room. He expected you to be lying on the bed, waiting for him, but the bed was empty. Thinking you might have found your way to the kitchen for a snack, he pulled his pajama pants off the floor and pulled them on before he walked out of the bedroom. He’d recently discovered that after sex, you craved something from the fridge. He walked down the hall leading to the staircase, but before he got there, a chill ran down his spine. It was this chill and almost like a psychic feeling that had him stop.

 When he turned, there you stood in your pale pink kimono robe with Christiano behind you. His hand was around your neck, clasping it.

“What the--.” He made a move toward them, but Christiano pulled out a gun and pointed it to your stomach.

 “I wouldn’t,” he began before he cocked the weapon. “Or I will pull this trigger, and there goes Evan Jr.”

 Terror as he’d never felt before gripped his heart. “You wouldn’t risk her life.”

 Christiano shoved the barrel of the gun more forcefully into your stomach, making you whimper loudly.

 “Wouldn’t I? what’s the point of keeping her safe now? For her to end up with you? I think the fuck not!” Again he shoved the gun into you.

 “Okay, hey, hey, stop. Don’t do this. Please.”

 “Please?” Christiano snorted and pulled you more firmly against him. “Are you begging me finally? You’ve always been underneath me. I couldn’t understand why she would choose you over me. I’m better in every category.”

 He nodded, with his hands raised.

 “You’re right. You’re the better man, the better choice,” he agreed, deciding to play along and say whatever he wanted if it meant Uriah had a chance of getting away from him. He quickly tried to formulate a plan while he used his words to buy himself as much time as possible.

 “I know! So why him, Uriah!?”

 You remained quiet, tears streaming down your cheeks.

 “Answer me! You better answer me with the truth, or I swear I’ll pull this trigger.”

 “Answer hi, Dragonfly. It’s okay. Forever and a day.”

 You scrunched your face and watched fresh heartbreak wash over you. “I—I fell in love with him, Tino. My soul recognized his as my home. It could only ever be him,” you replied. He signaled to you using his eyes and slight movements of his head, and he hoped you understood them.

 He watched Christiano squeeze your neck tighter and press the gun more persistently into you, and he said a silent prayer.

 “Fine,” Christiano began. He saw the moment when it all changed for him, and his threats no longer were empty words. “If I can’t have you. No one can.”

 “Now, Riah!”

 You threw your head back, colliding yours with his in a vicious headbutt that sent Christiano staggering backward a few steps and you stumbling before falling to the floor. In the chaos, Christiano dropped the gun allowing him to leap forward for the gun. In seconds Christiano was on him, fighting him for it. He tried to pull it from his clutches while turning it away from him or Uriah, but there was no fury like a man who’d lost everything.

 Christiano managed to wrangle the gun from his grasp and pointed it to Uriah. In the blink of an eye, he knew what had to be done—the only thing he could do. Locking eyes with you, he said the only thing that mattered.

 “I love you.”

 He then dove for Christiano tracking him into the banister railing with enough force that broke it, sending both of them over the edge and down two and a half stories to the hard marble floor beneath. He could hear your piercing scream right before they collided with the floor, but once they made impact, the gun went off, and again Uriah screamed.

 “Chris!”

~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

It all had happened in such a way that it was in slow motion but sped up. You couldn’t register anything until it was all said and done. You scurried to the banister and looked down. Neither of them moved, and your heart stopped. Gasping, you tried to remind your brain to send the signal for you to breathe. After a few seconds, you coughed while trying to hurry down the stairs. The tears in your eyes made it difficult to see what was in front of you, so you stumbled down the stairs. If it weren’t for your gripping the railing as you descended, you were sure you would have tumbled.

 Once down to them, you dropped to your knees beside them and pulled at Chris’s body. He wasn’t moving.

 “Oh god, Chris!”

 He didn’t respond, and his body felt like dead weight. Your tears flowed more freely as you managed to roll him off. Once you had, you were able to see that it was Christiano who was shot and not Chris. Relief filled you, and you shook him more forcefully.

 “Chris! Wake up, please. Please don’t leave me. Chris!”

 Suddenly he erupted into a fit of choughs before they died down.

 “Why are you always shouting at me, woman!?”

 You gasped again. “Oh my god! You scared the shit out of me.”

 “I’m okay. I think,” he informed while trying to sit up. He then began examining you.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Yes.”

 He then gripped his head as he groaned out, but it wasn’t long before he was moving toward you to pull you into his arms, not caring that he was covered in blood.

 “Is he—is he dead?”

 Chris leaned back to check Christiano’s pulse, then lowered his head. “Very dead.”

 You clasped your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. He—he tried--.”

 Chris pulled you into him and hugged you tightly. “Come here. It’s okay.”

 Somehow he managed to slide both of you from the body on the floor toward the wall. He held you tightly, then spoke.

 “I don’t think I’ll call you crazy again after this.”

 It was probably inappropriate, but you snorted then laughed, a laugh he joined in on. As suddenly as the laughter began, it ended.  

 “They’re crazy.”

 “Bat shit,” Chris replied.

 Any humor to be found in the situation was gone, and it turned into you crying in his shoulder, going through all the emotions from the entire night. There had been so much pain, so much destruction. You’d come close to losing everything more than once, and the culprit was lying dead on the floor before you. It was overwhelming, but somehow, you felt steeled to the fact that you’d just watched someone die.

 You glanced over to Chris at the same moment he looked at you. He wiped the tears from your cheeks then spoke.

 “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He then lowered his lips to your forehead and held you close.

 Ten minutes later, the sirens of the police, ambulance, and fire trucks could be heard as they surrounded your property. The officers instantly took yours and Chris’s statements and any evidence lying around to prove what the two of you were professing, including the security footage. The EMS workers quickly covered Christiano’s body with a sheet as they rolled him into a body bag then pushed the gurney out of the house. You barely registered anything. Chris did most of the talking, not leaving one thing out. When they asked you about the events of the night, you stuttered and quickly became frazzled as everything finally caught up to you. That was when the detective Chris hired suggested meeting at the police station to continue, which would allow him to reveal his findings in his investigation.

After a quick change, you were sitting in the passenger side of Chris’s car as he drove you to the precinct. Your mind raced a mile a minute, but your lips remained zipped. The feel of Chris’s hand on your thigh was your tangible evidence that this was reality and not some soap opera plot. When you arrived at the precinct, the detective in charge of the case questioned you from the very beginning to the night's events. You did your best to remain calm and emotionless and were surprised that you didn’t feel the shame you’d felt about the entire situation prior to this night.

When the detective revealed new information divulged to him, from the detective Chris hired, about Christiano and what he’d truly been up to and how deep his plans really went, you could hardly stomach it. He’d secured another property in Russia and planned to bring you there. The way the information was revealed, it seemed like he planned on keeping you captive there. Hearing that, you almost passed out. Chris, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to kill Christiano again.

 The questioning took a full hour, and at the end of it, you were exhausted and ready to put this entire thing behind you after dealing with Ana. With Chris’s arm around your waist, you walked out of the detective’s office onto the precinct's open floor. A loud scream brought your attention to several officers pulling Ana through with her hands cuffed behind her back.

 “I demand you let me go. Do you know who I am!? I swear to god, I will have your badge, and you’ll never be a fucking cop again!”

 “Wow, the mouth on her,” one of the officers teased.

 “To think we found her hot in that Bond movie,” another piped up.

 “Fuck you!”

 You and Chris approached, curious as to what was going on. You hadn’t expected to see her until tomorrow when you and Chris executed the second part of your plan of confronting her while recording it to release it to the world, showing everyone who and what she really was. It would have been a one-two hit that she wouldn’t recover from. Her career would have been over.

 “It’s been a big night,” the detective who’d just interviewed you said, standing beside you.

 “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why’s she here?”

 “Your detective gave us plenty of information. By the way, impressive man, you should think about keeping him on your payroll. Anyway, we followed his leads, and it led right to her and her assistant, specifically her assistant’s car. This one took her assistant’s car and was the one behind the wheel when she ran into you. The traffic cams show it was an intentional hit.”

 You saw red.

 “What!”

 “She tried to kill you,” Abel, the private detective, added, coming up beside Chris.

 “What’s more, there were messages between her and Christiano White.”

 Both yours and Chris’s heads spun to him to the police detective this time to find him nodding with a look on his face that said even he hadn’t encountered anything this bizarre before.

 “They concocted this whole scheme together, beginning with the pictures of her in that eat shit sweater. This was set up with them. there is even evidence Christiano was poisoning you, Mrs. Evans.”

 “Jesus,” Chris hissed.

 You remained utterly silent and still letting Abel’s words fully process. It was a lot of information, but it was also vindication that you were in no shape or form crazy.

 “Wh—what does all this mean?”

 “It means she’s going to face a judge on a slew of charges that are quite serious. I can assure you both; there is no easy way of her getting out of any of this. No amount of money or connections will fix it. Her career is over,” the detective finished.

 You both were speechless, and looking at Chris, he was too. You and Chris were led to somewhere you could sit for a few minutes to receive the paperwork for the night’s incident and the new information. While sitting, you used the time to catch your breath and wrap your head around everything. Neither of you could believe all you’d gone through. The more you thought about it, the more your confusion increased. One burning questioned remained. Why?

 About ten minutes later, you and Chris were led toward the exit, but you caught sight of Ana to your right. You would have walked on, but the way she glared at you had you changing your mind in seconds. You let go of Chris’s hand and walked over to her.

 “I have to know. Why? What was the point!?”

 Ana bolted to her feet as if she planned to do something, but the officer behind her grabbed her arm, holding her to ensure she didn’t try anything. You weren’t worried.

“You don’t deserve anything you have. The fame, the popularity, and opportunities you don’t deserve any of it, especially Chris. He was supposed to be mine. That baby was supposed to be mine!”

 You could hear the poison in her voice and see the sheer hatred for you shining brightly in her eyes. She truly meant this though she didn’t know one thing about you.

 “You’re crazy as fuck. I hope it was worth it.” You reached back for Chris’s hand, knowing he was behind you. Lacing your fingers with his, you showed her all that her efforts had produced, then turned and began walking away.

 “You low-grade black bitch!

In your head, you heard blaring sirens. The sound became so loud in a matter of seconds it had somewhat of a mind-altering effect. Chris released your hand as if he knew what was going to happen. You turned back to her and saw red.

 “Oh I’ll show you how low grade this black bitch is!”

 You ran to her, then tackled her to the floor. Once on top of her, you swung punch after punch, each slamming into her face. You didn’t care where they landed, didn’t care how hard you were hitting her either. There was a lesson she needed to learn, and the only way to learn it was getting her ass beat the right way—the black way. You felt hands trying to pull you off of her, but you were not having it. You held on to her hair, so when they tried to move you, they really helped you bald the bitch.

 “See, I never learned to share when I was young! I’m—an—only—child!” With each enunciated word, you emphasized it with a punch. Ana’s screams were loud, but they weren’t louder than those alarms still sounding off in your head. Though she tried to fight back, it was futile, though.

 “Learn this bitch! Don’t,” you dropped a punch to her nose. “Touch,” you slapped her with your open hand. “What,” you slapped her again, this time with the back of your hand. “is mine!”

 From then, no one else tried to pull you off of her. You suspected it was Chris warning them. You managed to get off a few more punches when you were finally pulled off.

 “Let me go!”

 “Okay, calm down, Adonis Creed, that’s enough,” Chris shouted, trying to break through to you. You still struggled trying to get back to her, but Chris refused to let you go until you calmed down. You looked at Ana on the floor. She was barely moving, and her face was a bloody mess with several patches of her dark hair sprinkled around her. Satisfaction filled you. Raising your hand, you assured Chris you were good. Slowly he let you go, and you stooped down to her.

 “Look at me.”

 You waited for her writhing to stop and for her bloody, swollen eyes to land on you.

 “Remember my name for the rest of your pathetic life. Remember that I’m that bitch!”

 You grabbed her hair and held her head. “Try this shit again; you gonna lose your life.”

 With that, you punched her one more time, knocking her clear out. Everyone around the precinct shouted out a collective “ooh.” You stood and walked away as they all cleared your path, most likely thinking you were crazy. Chris came beside you, took your hand, and walked back to the car with you. Once inside, you both sat there, silently processing everything. Five minutes passed in silence until you spoke.

 “She did all this over dick, Chris. Dick,” you said in disbelief as you shook your head.

 “I mean—my dick is A1.”

 Your head spun to him. “Christopher!”

 He laughed out loud while holding his hands up in defeat.

 “Hey, don’t beat my ass too, I don’t want none,” Chris joked, making you laugh a little.

 “Wow, remind me not to piss you off again. I don’t want any of what she got.”

 You fake lunged at him with your still bloodied fists. “Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

 Both of you erupted with laughter before you embraced, relishing in the feeling of togetherness and your love. It was finally over; you thought as Chris pressed a soft kiss to your neck.

 “Let’s get the fuck out of this town,” Chris suggested. You snorted and nodded.

 “Let’s go home.”

 Knowing where you meant, Chris smiled and kissed you once, then twice.

 “Let’s,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[weregreatatcrime]

So anyways I'm not too concerned with spoilers but I also don't wanna go TOO in detail with stuff i plan on writing, just bcz it usually ends in me not wanting to write the thing I've already explained

B u t I can talk about how I got places lol

Thinking about how she would get Miwa out of the Darklands did stump me for a bit. Obviously she sees Kraang do their portal thing and was like "OH I can use those" but the problem is she just doesn't know enough about how their tech works. She's clever and brilliant but not very scientifically minded. My original idea was maybe she ended up going to the Hamatos for their help- they're obviously tangled up in the Kraang's bullshit. Surely they'll know how to mess with their portals and all? But she likely wouldn't want to, as they wouldn't accept her dislike of giving clear answers. She's a changeling, she's practically physically incapable of a fair deal the way normal people see it, and she hates hates hates giving up information. She trusts nobody, not even herself

But then I got to thinking about how changelings know very well what it's like to be under someone's control and hating them every step of the way but having no choice. Changelings have a very weird culture that's kind of based around the idea of "There's no such thing as honor, we will stab each other in the back whenever- EXCEPT when there's a jackass in power over both of us, then we have some real solidarity and the backstabbing WILL wait until we're freed." So like. Karai doesn't know how the fuck to accept or even believe in kindness but she knows very well how to work together with someone she doesn't actually trust just so they can get rid of someone else. THEN go back to fighting each other, but asshole boss first.

So she sees the Hamatos and is like "Nah I have nothing they actually want. I gotta get Miwa back before trying them." but she sees Baxter Stockman being kicked around and she's like "Ah yes. Excellent. He'll do brainy thing, I'll do secret thing, we'll work together to get out from under Shredder. I need his brain and he needs protection. Perfect!"

And as far as Stockman goes, he is perfectly selfish enough for her to work with like she would another changeling and he's clever enough to recognize she's probably actually his only chance to get out from under the Shredder alive and human. He hasn't been mutated yet, and he's not gonna be. But being actively under threat of life and limb has made him a little better at stuffing his ego aside for survival

So they work together a lot and Karai maybe accidentally teaches him to think and plan like a changeling which is uh. Lots and lots of subterfuge and caution before pride. (But keep pride tucked away ready for when you have the upper hand to use it)

How do you think that Karai would have rescued Mina? Or is that spoilers?

it's only spoilers for maybe another 30 minutes while I edit the first chapter on ao3 ssdgjfgh

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 1.5

portraiture and speculation

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of insomnia, slight angst, swearing, and idk libraries?? ‘Tis not a heavy one

AN: So this is a mini-chapter, entirely Levi’s POV, hopefully to give some more background/insight into what homeboy’s thinking. And we get some Hange in this chapter which I had so much fun writing:)) Thank you for the wonderful comments on the last chapter and again, please don’t hesitate to reblog/comment/send in an ask with any suggestions, questions, or feedback!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1 here)

In the hierarchy of genres established by the Academy, history painting was at the top and portraiture came next. Artists aspired to elevate the importance of…

Levi takes a slow sip of tea while his eyes glide over the article in front of him: the latest reading for his European Art History class. His mouth twitches at the bitter taste of over-brewed Earl Grey. The library cafe never seems to be able to get tea right, but he was desperate for some caffeine to push him through a couple more hours of studying.

...female members of the royal family have been depicted as goddesses…

Fuck. Levi’s brain had gotten away from him again. I have no idea what I just read.

With a deep sigh and adjustment of his posture, Levi starts the paragraph again.

In the hierarchy of genres established by the Academy, history painting was at the top and portraiture…

The portrait in his room flickers into his mind’s eye. Nearly complete, his mother’s smiling face stares back at him. The stormy grey of her eyes had taken Levi a week to remember and another to perfect. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he sits cross-legged on his bed facing her and wondering if it’s truly an accurate depiction. In his best memories, she is warm and smiling and beautiful. Levi can’t help but wonder if somehow he’s written over his mother’s true features with an invention of his own; some sort of collage of the kind women in his life. He had caught himself painting Hange’s wide smile instead of his mother’s once, and he hadn’t worked on the portrait for a month after. If he was going to ever do it justice, he had to be certain it was as close to his actual memory as possible.

The end of the page jars Levi out of a reverie, and once again he hasn’t retained any of what he just read. Leaning back in his chair with a frustrated groan, he allows the ambient noise of the library to drift back into his consciousness.

The beeping from the front desk as a librarian scans books. The thunk of someone’s metal water bottle on a table. A spirited discussion between two professors in line at the cafe. Levi can feel his will to work slipping from his grasp with each passing moment.

“No use trying to study with your mind caught up in more important things,” your voice seeps through the cracks of his work ethic. It had been six weeks into living with each other when you caught Levi staring into space at his desk instead of working yet again and decided to do something about it. Your pretty hands had guided his own away from the laptop and closed it with a finality even your obstinate roommate couldn’t argue against.

“We’re going out for sushi,” you’d insisted. “And then you’re going to watch your favorite show and go to bed.”

You were right. It’s exactly what Levi needed, both then and now.

“Hey, shortstack!” A pair of hands lands heavily on his shoulders, and Levi has to quell the urge to break Hange’s nose with the back of his hand. He settles for a steely glare over his shoulder, greeted by her energetic grin.

“If you touch me without warning like that again I will not hesitate to put you in the hospital.” Hange doesn’t seem perturbed by his deadpan delivery, but nonetheless removes her hands and holds them up in surrender.

“I come in peace! Just thought I’d say hi before my lab.” She pulls out the chair next to him and plonks down but doesn’t bother to put down her backpack or unwrap her scarf. “How’s the studying going?”

“I was just finishing up. Can’t concentrate in this environment.” He gestures vaguely to their surroundings.

“Yeah, no kidding. I’m surprised to find you here, actually, don’t you usually hole up in an empty studio?”

“Eh, figured a change of pace might help. Clearly not.”

“Great, then you can walk me to class! I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway.” Hange bounces out of her seat and flits her gaze around the library as Levi packs up his stuff.

As they leave the library together, frigid winter air swirls around them, kicking up a flurry of snow from the snowbank by the sidewalk. Levi zips up his jacket and stuffs his hands into its pockets. Hange is unusually quiet as they walk towards the sciences building. Levi hazards a glance and sees her deep in thought, chin tucked into her scarf and glasses fogged with breath.

“So are you gonna tell me what you wanted to talk about or am I supposed to guess?” He nudges her with an elbow and she jumps.

“Oh! That’s right. It’s about your delightfully brilliant roommate,” she starts, grinning at Levi once more.

“What about her?”

“How has she been doing? Y’know, since the breakup?” Hange’s tone is almost too casual, and it makes Levi take a second to carefully consider his answer.

“She’s been fine, I think. Going to class, eating, studying.” He pauses to think again. “She has been staying up late a lot. Why do you ask?”

“That’s just it, she looked exhausted this morning in our seminar. Like she hadn’t slept at all.” Her quizzical gaze is fixed on him as he considers this.

Come to think of it, you had been looking quite tired recently. He had attributed it to upcoming exams, but it could certainly be deeper than that. For the past two weeks since the breakup, Levi had noted light from under your bedroom door every night as he went to bed. And yet, you were consistently awake before him, already on your first or second cup of coffee.

“You’re right. I don’t think she’s been sleeping,” he affirms, setting his mouth in a thin, worried line. While Levi was no stranger to insomnia, he did have strategies to help himself get enough sleep even when his mind couldn’t rest. Chamomile tea, meditation, sleeping pills when it really came down to it. Does she have those resources? he wonders.

They arrive outside the sciences building and Levi stops just short of the stairs, Hange turning to face him.

“Will you check up on her, please? Make sure she hasn’t actually been turned into a vampire?” Her tone is joking, but Levi can see the worry behind Hange’s eyes as he gives her a nod.

“Of course. I’ll text you later. Good luck in your lab.” He waves her off as she practically skips up the steps, giving him an impish salute.

“Have a good one, shortstop!”

As Levi turns back to begin walking home, worry sets in his chest with a winter-like frigidity. He thought you had been doing fine. 

I thought she was glad to be rid of that jackass.

-- (read part 2 here)

[prolestariwrites]

Tension

Fandom: Devil May Cry Rating: Explicit Characters: Dante, Vergil, Reader (no Spardacest) Tags: MMF, Threesome, Explicit Sexual Content, Oneshot Words: 5539

Collab with @solynaceawrites​

Summary: Dante and Vergil fight about everything, even you. Tired of the arguing, you decide to make them use all that energy in a much more productive way. Contains MMF threesome but not Spardacest.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━ You’re not quite sure when the tension got so unbearable. 

Maybe it's on you. After all, you had been the one to kick Dante to the van while letting Vergil stay in the shop, and you know that the two of them have a rivalry a mile wide and a thousand feet deep when it comes to anything and everything. So, you suppose that it's possible that Vergil had, in some way, seen that as you choosing him over Dante, though really all it had been was you needing time to deal with Dante being back. 

You and Dante had had a complicated relationship even before he went off to “fuck around Hell”, as you liked to call it. Friends? Friends with benefits? Love? You never had the chance to really define it before he left you for six months without a word of goodbye and the deed to the Devil May Cry, making you the owner. For six months, you thought he was dead, mourning the loss of the man you thought you’d be with forever, until he waltzed back into the shop like nothing was wrong and got a well-deserved fist to the face courtesy of you.

When they returned, you refused to give up ownership, too pissed at Dante for leaving so recklessly and breaking your heart to give him the satisfaction of getting it back. So you remained on as the boss, a role Dante didn’t seem to mind at all, even though your two new employees were very talented at driving you crazy. You had given jobs to both of them as equally as you could. You gave Vergil the same cold shoulder you gave to Dante. In all ways but where they were sleeping, you treated the twins exactly the same, but somehow it's all led to this. Even though you’re not quite sure what this is. 

After a month of living in the van, you had let Dante move back in, albeit begrudgingly. He'd wanted a second chance to apologize and make things right between you, and you missed him enough to let him do it. Slowly, painfully, he'd opened up to you, all of those secrets he'd held onto for so long spilling out in fits and bursts over weeks until you knew everything he'd been through and the hurt that'd been festering in him since his mother was killed. You hadn't quite forgiven him completely, but he'd been back in the bedroom by then and you made the choice to try and put the past behind you so you could grow together. 

You hadn't noticed Vergil's behavior until you walked into an argument between him and Dante that had wrecked half the shop. Sure, he'd been a bit nicer to you, or his version of it anyway, helping with the files and the bills, making sure that you got first call on the shower. Small things that you’d expect from someone walking on thin ice as far as you were concerned. Dante had told you later on that Vergil was doing his best to court you in his awkward way. It'd been a shock, but knowing what to look for had made it painfully obvious how blind you had been to what he was doing.

Which has led to your current predicament, standing between the twins and trying to keep them from tearing into each other. "Would both of you knock it off?"

"Tell Vergil to knock it off," Dante growls. 

"Stay out of my way," Vergil warns him. "If I catch you in my things one more time—" 

"The things I pay for?" 

"I work too." 

You clear your throat. "Stop it. I mean it." You side-eye Dante with hands on your hips. "What were you doing?" 

"Just lookin' for something. Such a damn baby—" 

"Say it again, baby brother." 

"Okay!" You cry. "Dante, leave Vergil's shit alone. Vergil, stop being so damn possessive. There." 

You hope it is over as you move to go back to your desk, but you hear Dante make a snort. "Right. He's possessive over shit that's not his." 

You freeze at the desk, the hair on the back of your head rising as you can tell they are gearing up for another argument. "What was that?" you bite over your shoulder. 

Your eyes land on him sharply and Dante gives a shrug that annoys you to no end. "I'm saying he thinks everything is his. The jobs, the weapons, even you." 

"What?" You frown in surprise, but they are arguing again, and you put up a hand to get their attention. "I'm sorry, who belongs to who?"

"Ol' Verge here thinks he owns you." Dante grins, but it lacks its usual humor. "So, I told him to keep his fuckin' hands off shit that doesn't belong to him, he said that I was the one who needed to keep my grimy paws to myself. What do you think, darlin’? You belong to him?" 

"I belong to myself," you say sharply. 

His brows flick up in surprise even as Vergil utters a wry laugh. "You say she isn't mine, she says she isn't yours. I suppose that means she could belong to me, does it not?" 

"Hell no! She’s my woman, not yours." 

"Like Yamato?" 

"I haven't touched that thing since you came back, jackass."

"How about this?" you snap at both of them. "I don't belong to either of you. You—" here you point at Vergil with a warning look, "—work for me, and that's it. And you—" Your gaze at Dante is even sharper, "—I'm still pissed at. So both of you can forget whatever this whole argument is." You fold your arms, silently fuming. 

The brothers glance at each other, both wearing expressions that are a weird, smug sort of anger. But then Dante walks towards you, and you slide back to sit on the desk and cross your legs, wanting to keep him at a distance. "Don't come over here like we're friends," you say. 

But your tone isn't harsh, and they both know it. You both know the smile he gives you is going to needle its way under your skin, and he knows just how to stand, one palm on the desk next to your thigh and the other on his cocked hip, looking up at you with a sexy smirk that is accentuated by the day's worth of stubble on his face. Fuck him and his stupid handsome face. "Come on, babe," he murmurs, giving you a wink. "We both know we're getting back together. You don't have to play it like that when you already have my attention." 

Ordinarily you would dig your heels in more, and the first words that rise to your tongue are you wish . . . and then he licks his lips, and you seem to feel the weeks and months without him all at once. 

"You don't have to answer that." 

Your attention is pulled towards Vergil, who is standing with arms folded. His gaze on you is so intense you actually gasp, and he starts to move closer, almost prowling. "Leave her alone, Dante," Vergil says darkly.

"Get yer own woman," Dante replies, his eyes still on your face. You had almost forgotten how mesmerizing he can be, those icy blues like a physical weight that pins you in place and demands your attention so that you don't notice a hand closing around your wrist until you are pulled to the side. 

Vergil's lips caress the back of your hand as he scowls at his brother. "I'm quite fond of this one." 

"Is that right?" Dante catches your knee and leans over you, crowding you half against the desk and half against Vergil, and you glance between the two of them in utter confusion. "Tough shit. You can't have her." 

It nearly makes you laugh, the age old tug-of-war you had gone through with Nero manifesting now with these two, but the air around them feels thick and heavy, and a thick coat of sweat dampens the back of your neck. Vergil pulls you farther backwards, ignoring your "hey!" as he tries to get you out of Dante's reach. "She'd be better off with me, and you know it."

"Stop that," you say. 

You step back again, the backs of your thighs hitting the desk. The air is crackling now, and your heart responds with an uptick in speed, your mouth going dry as you try to swallow. It's as if the room is filling with tension, and you laugh nervously. "You two fight over everything. What did you do when you were kids?" 

"What?" Dante looks away from his brother to frown at you. "What do you mean?" 

"When you had a toy or something you fought over," you explain. "What did you do to resolve it?" 

They exchange a glance, and you can see something pass between them. "We had to share," Dante replies. 

You laugh again. "Too bad you can't share me then." 

You grin at Dante, but they are staring at you with a look you’ve never seen. Your eyes go wide and you glance at Vergil, whose usual stoic expression seems to have intensified. "Guys, I was kidding . . ." Weren't you? 

"So you get to decide," Vergil proposes. "But we both have to prove why we deserve you." 

You blink in confusion, but as you stare at Vergil, you feel a hand slide along your arm and Dante's lips press to your temple, making your breath catch. "What do you say, babe?"

"Uh . . ." Fuck yes. "Isn't this set up to fail? I mean, toys, sure, but whoever I don't pick is gonna . . . You know?" 

Vergil steps forward, one of his hands pressing firmly against the small of your back while the other smooths over your cheek. "As children, whoever was proven to use what we both wanted most was given possession of it by our mother. We've learned not to hold a grudge." 

Right, like the grudge that brought all of this about, Vergil's desire to best Dante causing not one but two tragedies. You look away, but that puts your face right in front of Dante's, and he wastes no time in kissing you, ignoring Vergil's disapproving tsk as he sucks on your lips before prying them open with his tongue. "Really, Dante," Vergil sighs, "didn't you ever learn to treat a woman with respect?"

You laugh against his mouth, part in nervousness and part at Vergil's statement. Dante has always been like this, aggressive and sexy, even silly and sloppy in the way he kisses you, but it is always so sincere that you never minded. As if to drive the point home, Dante pulls your tongue into his mouth and sucks on it slowly, your faces tilted as he takes his time. The shameless display must look ridiculous, but you have to admit the way his teeth scrape and the slight pain from the tug has your pulse racing. He lets you go with a smack of his lips and grins, and you smile back instinctively. 

Then a hand is in your hair and your head is turned before Vergil's lips press against yours. Vergil's kiss could not be more different: hard, demanding, precise. The way he tugs your lips and slides his tongue in long strokes in and out of your mouth seem almost practiced, but it works. You are groaning in no time and leaning into him, trying to take more. It's as if he read a manual on how to turn you on and can hit everything you like in a kiss. By the time he releases you, your body feels weak and there is definitely a dampness between your legs that has you flushed.

You barely have time to gather thoughts before Dante scoops you up and strides towards the stairs, smothering your protest with another kiss. It seems like it's going to be a theme for the night; the two of them, fighting over which one of them deserves you more, and you caught in the middle. Not that you really mind. 

Halfway up, he pauses to call over his shoulder, "Hurry up, Vergil, or I'm lockin' you out of the bedroom!" 

There's a rush of air as Vergil appears on the landing, his eyes narrowed as his lips curl into a smile that sets your heart racing. "Always the fool," he proclaims. 

You huff and wriggle until Dante sets you down. If they keep carrying on like this, nothing is going to happen, and you make sure your hips sway and your body brushes Vergil's as you finish the climb on your own. "You've both got sixty seconds before I decide to go to bed," you say breezily.

One of them grabs your backside, and when you see Vergil stride ahead and push the bedroom door open, you smack Dante on the arm. He grins at you playfully but you grab his shirt and tug him close so you can whisper. "You sure about this?" 

"Oh fuck yes." His hands go to your hips and tug you against him, and as Dante grinds you can feel his erection already straining under his jeans. He presses a kiss to your jawline and then his lips go to your ear and whispers, "I want to watch you get fucking filled." 

You swallow and let him pull you to the bedroom. Vergil has already removed his shoes and his shirt, and you gape for a second as he opens his belt. He is just as gorgeous as Dante, his body carved, but leaner: where Dante is all strength and muscle, Vergil is a fighter, his body meant for movement. He catches you watching and gives a crooked grin before pushing off his pants; now just in his boxers, Vergil crosses the room towards you. He is as tall as Dante, forcing you to look up at him, and Vergil brushes your hair back over your shoulder. "Let's get you comfortable, hm?" he says quietly, and his fingertips slowly glide down your front and graze your breasts over your shirt.

You hold your breath as he works through the buttons of your blouse, slowly unhooking each one and parting the fabric before moving on to the next, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. It's a different sort of anticipation than what you tend to feel; with Dante, it's hot and quick, leaving you impatient and eager. But with Vergil, it builds slowly, crawling up your spine and squeezing your ribs around your lungs. Each slight touch feels like a promise and a threat all in one, leaving you trembling as you wait to see what he'll do next. When he reaches the last button, you slide the shirt from your shoulders without asking, and his lips tilt at the sight of your bare chest. "No bra?" he murmurs.

You blink, and it's Dante who replies, "She doesn't wear 'em at home," as he comes up behind you, his bare chest scorching against your back. You gasp when he cups your breasts, his lips grazing your neck, and Vergil's hands land on your hips as he kisses you again while Dante teases and plucks your nipples into stiff buds. "Feels like we might need some ground rules?" Vergil hums inquisitively, though he doesn't draw away from your lips, and Dante chuckles lowly. "This one won't say no to anything. We gotta do it for her."

You sink against his touch as Vergil kisses you deeper, his tongue rolling around yours and leaving you breathless when he pulls away. "Well?" he asks with an arch of his brow. 

"What?" Your heart is hammering in your chest as Vergil slides his hands into the waistband of your leggings. Dante's mouth nips the side of your neck, making you yelp, and your lips open as you watch Vergil sink to his knees and drag the fabric down your legs. Vergil's mouth presses to your navel as he pulls your clothes away, leaving you bare, his hands sliding back up the sides of your legs as he leaves a trail of kisses down your stomach. 

"Babe," Dante says against your shoulder, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your nipples. "What do you want?" 

"I . . ." You are squirming now, arousal dripping onto your thighs, and as Vergil's mouth works over the top of your mound your body gets even wetter. "Anything. Everything," you whisper. 

Vergil looks up from your sex and your eyes connect. "Just say when to stop," he says. 

You nod. Vergil opens one of your thighs, pressing his face to your center, and when you feel his tongue press against your hood you groan and lean your head back. Dante's mouth is on your cheek and you turn to meet his lips, and he kisses you slowly as Vergil's tongue finds your clit. They both hold you upright, your senses going a bit overloaded at the sensations. Dante releases your nipples to run his palms up and down your front, massaging your chest as he kisses you. Vergil presses against a particularly good spot and a moan catches in your throat, but Dante smiles against your lips and murmurs, "It's okay, let him hear how much you like this."

You reach down to tangle your fingers in Vergil's hair, surprised to find the strands silky and soft instead of tacky with gel or spray, and he lifts you easily, letting Dante support the weight of your torso as he drapes your legs over his broad shoulders. Like this, he can reach more of your sex, and you cry out when he kisses your body deeply, thrusting his tongue within your opening before swirling it over your clit. Dante holds you easily, fluid smearing along your back as he grinds against you leisurely; between the two of them, you are spinning, and it isn't long before you’re rocking into Vergil's mouth, chasing the pleasure tightening within your core.

"She's gonna come fast, Verge," Dante pants against your neck, and like magic, you arch against him as your orgasm breaks. Your hand yanks his eager mouth against your clit as the other reaches up to grip Dante, and you feel almost weightless as he licks you through the contractions, his tongue rough and electric on your body. A cry erupts as it crests, and Vergil gives your clit a final, gentle suckle before lapping you gently as it finally begins to finish. 

You are deposited on the bed, and one of them—Vergil, you realize after a moment—climbs over you to kiss your lips. You can taste your own arousal on him and you eagerly respond, sucking on his tongue and lips, the taste of him and sex driving you wild. How was he so good at that? The thought flickers briefly before he pulls away, and you pant as you look at the ceiling, the weight of what you had just done settling on you as the mattress dips.

You’re not worried about Dante being pissed. He'd been just as eager for this as Vergil, by his own admission, and if he tries to say something about it later, you’ll be more than happy to remind him of his comment about seeing you fucking filled. It's not even guilt, really. But there is something a bit strange about having your maybe-if-he-wasn’t-such-a-jerk lover's brother give you the best oral of your life while said lover watches, and you’re trying to process that when another mouth covers your sex, the heated insistence of it letting you know right away that it's Dante. 

Your back bends as you reach down to grab his hair. But hands catch your wrists, and you look up with surprise as Vergil carefully winds a strip of black fabric around them. He catches you watching and gives you a little grin. "You should pay attention," he murmurs, and you open your mouth to ask him what he means just as Dante parts your thighs and sheathes his cock within you with one fluid thrust.

You groan, long and loud. Dante's hands are heavy and familiar on your thighs as he massages your flesh, and then he starts to move slow and deep, your sensitive body sparking to life with his movements. Meanwhile Vergil leans over you and kisses your breasts, using that mouth that just gave you such an amazing orgasm on your nipples, teasing and driving you crazy. You are helpless with your arms tied, but that seems to suit you just fine. Being between them is overwhelming, and you want to give yourself over to it and see where they can take you. 

But his mouth is heaven while Dante's thrusts are sin, and the combination leaves you gasping for more. You turn your face and kiss Vergil's thigh, needing to do something, hearing one or the other or both laugh. Something like embarrassment flushes through you, but it's sweeter, twisting your lungs and making you stretch your body. Your only thought now is them, their eyes and hands and bodies on you, and you want to ruin them just as much as they will do to you. 

"You just had to ask, princess," Vergil murmurs. His hand cards through your hair and then his cock presses to your lips. Eagerly you open, moaning as it fills your mouth, and Dante stops his movements to watch. "Oh fuck," he groans, his hands digging into your open thighs. "Fuck, swallow him, babe."

You do your best, pleasantly surprised by how similar his cock is to Dante's. Along with the angle, it makes taking him into your throat easier, and you suck as he pumps in and out of your mouth, holding your head steady with one hand as he fondles your breast with the other. But he tastes different; the only way you can think to describe it is cooler, less earthy than Dante, and you moan around his flesh. Dante finds your clit with his fingers as he begins to move again. Quite literally pinned by their bodies, you willingly surrender yourself to them, uncaring which of them does what as long as they don't stop.

"So good . . ." Vergil groans. Something in his voice makes you shiver, like he is losing that tight grip of control, and you lift your head slightly to take him deeper, sucking hard on his length as you hold it in your throat. 

Dante curses again, his hips moving faster, and you can feel your body tightening. You gasp around the cock in your mouth but Vergil is thrusting just as hard, and before you realize it the thick fluid is filling your mouth and throat. You nearly choke on it before he quickly eases back, and with the taste of Vergil spilling over your tongue you start to orgasm again, a cry erupting as Dante's touch on your clit works you into another that is intense but all too brief. 

You come down moments later to the sound of your bodies slapping together. Dante leans over you and covers your mouth with his, and you groan into his kiss as he grinds deep inside you. "So damn hot," he whispers, his hands sliding along your arms. He pushes your wrists into the bed and jerks his hips sharply before he lets out a groan and his seed starts to shoot inside your body, hot and slippery and filling you up.

It's barely over before you become aware of Vergil moving to stand impatiently next to the bed, and Dante huffs a laugh as he draws his body out of yours, leaving you gasping at the drag over your sensitive flesh. "Can't even give me a damn minute, huh?" 

"You've had your turn," Vergil argues. 

Dante snorts. Each of them grab you, moving you as they move until you’re on your knees with your ass in the air and your face pressed to Dante's thigh. Vergil tsks as he settles between your trembling legs, and Dante cards a hand through your hair as he says, "What? I like it better this way."

Your wrists are still tied, and you run your fingers over his leg, looking up. "Untie me." 

Dante's lip rolls up as he grins, pulling the tie off and tossing it. You press on your palms to go upright, your lips grazing Dante's chest. "You want to stop?" he murmurs. 

Your eyes flicker up to his. "No," you say. Then you turn to look over at Vergil, who is watching intently, his palm rubbing his growing erection. "Touch me first." 

The corner of his mouth quirks and Vergil reaches between your legs with his free hand. His fingertips stroke your opening softly and you sigh, tilting your head back. Dante strokes your cheek sweetly, and when he runs his thumb along your lip you catch it playfully between your teeth. "I can't wait to feel your mouth," he says. 

"Stroke your cock and get it hard," you order, your words breathless as Vergil slides a finger along your clit.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he obeys. His knuckles bump your stomach with every pump of his fist, and his tongue slides out to wet his bottom lip. You watch his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, and then he cups the back of your head and guides you down so your lips rub over the tip of his cock; eagerly, you part your lips, and as you sink down on him, Vergil sinks into you, and the sound of both of their groans mingling in the air is one of the most erotic you’ve ever heard. Instead of thrusting to meet you, Dante simply moves your head, and the slow, steady movements of Vergil's hips help you set a rhythm as you swallow his flesh.

You grip his thighs tightly as you bob your head up and down, swallowing the thick length as best as you can. He tastes like sex, pure and simple, and the sensation of being filled is different this time now that you control the movements. You start to rock your hips to meet Vergil's thrusts, and he presses one hand to your stomach and the other to your thigh, stretching you open to accommodate him. Vergil is long and thick and the precision he used to kiss you is still there as he fucks you slowly and methodically. Your orgasm builds just as slowly, tingling along your spine, and when his hand slides around your hip to your backside you shudder at his intimate touch. Meanwhile Dante strokes your hair, the movements intoxicating, pulling you under his spell as you suck him greedily. Usually he is playful, vocal and thrusting into your mouth, but now he lets you enjoy, his sexiness just as intense but different.

Your release this time crests in waves that rock you instead of pull you under, and you moan around Dante's cock as Vergil continues to fuck you with those steady, practiced movements. On and on it drags, fueled by the fullness of Dante in your mouth and the fullness of Vergil in your sex. "What do you think, hon?" Dante murmurs, sweeping your hair from your face. "Which of us fucks you better?"

You curse as you pull your mouth from his cock, sinking down to catch your breath and mouth at the base. "Fuck, fuck," you whisper as Vergil snaps his hips sharply against you. 

You dig your nails into Dante's thighs, drawing a hiss, and he tugs your hair, pulling your face up to his. "Yes . . .” he groans. 

Vergil's hands roam your backside, rubbing and massaging your flesh. "She's still coming," he pants.

"You serious?" You can't see whatever expression Vergil is making, but it draws a low whistle from Dante. "Damn. You been holdin' out on me, sweetheart?" 

You do your best to give him an unimpressed look. It's ruined when a hand curls under your throat, and you yelp as Vergil pulls you up until his chest is flush to your back. "Hey!" Dante complains.

You shudder as Dante’s eyes drag down your body, stopping between your legs where Vergil's cock fills your sex. His eyes go lidded as he licks his lips, and you wonder what he is thinking. But then Vergil pulls out of you, and the slow drag of his cock leaves you breathless, gasping when you are suddenly empty. "Time to choose," he murmurs against your cheek, his hand caressing your throat lightly. "Whose cock do you want?" 

"Both," you pant. You lock gazes with Dante for a moment before closing your eyes. "Please, both of you fuck me. Same time." 

You don't even have to look to feel something pass between the two brothers. Fingers press against your clit—Dante's, you are pretty sure—and stroke you softly. "Will you come again if we do?"

"Yes," you plead. Vergil releases you so that Dante can grab you and draw you forward into his lap. His lips cover yours as he pulls you down onto his cock, his fingers stroking over your clit with the patterns you love, and you fall into the familiar, comforting weight of his touch. Hands press to your back, pushing you forward into an arch, and then Vergil is behind you, his cock pressing against the seam of your body.

Dante's mouth covers yours, and he swallows your groan as Vergil's thick cock enters your opening. Three orgasms have you weightless, almost boneless as you drape your arms around Dante's shoulders, clutching him at being so filled. Dante stays still, his cock inside you halfway, and Vergil pumps his hips gently to bury himself deeper. "She's so tight," he gasps, the cool veneer finally cracking in the way his voice shakes, and you consciously relax your muscles, trying to open yourself to them. 

They find a rhythm where one withdraws as the other enters, a lovely back and forth that sends your body and mind into a tailspin. And they are everywhere, hands and mouths greedy on your body, not an inch of you untouched as they grab at your breasts and hips and shoulders and calves, tracing your spine and skimming along your neck and scraping your thighs. You’ll have marks everywhere tomorrow, you are sure, but it's like riding an ocean of bliss, and you start to drown in it, suffocating as the twins take over everything and begin to drive you towards another orgasm.

Dante finishes first this time, yanking your hips down to fill you completely as he comes. The seed pumps into you in gushes that make your body slick, and you can feel his cock pulsing as it continues. While Dante kisses you, Vergil continues pumping, his length stretching you and making you cry out when his hips go flush to your backside. With Dante still sheathed fully every time Vergil thrusts your body reacts with a shudder.

There is something inside you that starts to spark, and without warning your body snaps as you start to come again. This time it truly is devastating, your cries sounding foreign to your ears. Dante’s murmured praise and two sets of hands firmly holding you are not enough to steady the swell of emotion that sparks, and you let go a sob when Dante withdraws his cock. It drags over your clit and sets off another wave of pulsing bliss, and you are only dimly aware of Vergil’s mouth on your neck and the creamy heat that shoots inside you. Vergil leans forward as he grinds deeper as Dante grinds upwards against your sex, and you are trapped between their solid bodies, barely able to breathe.

Everything goes quiet except for the sound of heavy breathing. Vergil gently withdraws and you sag against Dante, whose hands hold you firmly against him. “Hey,” he says, and you press your face to his shoulder, aftershocks from your orgasm igniting and leaving you shivering. You can feel how flushed your body is, and when he tilts you back and you feel a cool cloth between your thighs, you sigh gratefully as you roll against the mattress, craving the softness after the two hard bodies that nearly tore you apart with pleasure.

You end up between them, their hands stroking you with gentle caresses that pull you towards sleep. Faintly you think about how sore you will be, but it will be worth it. A pair of lips meets yours each time you turn your head, and when their touches start to grow a bit more aggressive and sweep over your folds and your sore nipples, you groan internally. Dante was always an insatiable lover, and now it seems like you’ve woken a second beast.

“Sleep first,” you murmur as you push a hand away from your slit—Vergil’s, you’re pretty sure. 

“Told ya,” Dante chuckles, and he gives your shoulder a kiss. 

“You did not,” Vergil mutters.

You sigh as they argue quietly, and when the topic turns to who gets to give you your first orgasm tomorrow, you smile at what is to come as you drift off to sleep. It seems as if this argument isn’t resolved at all.

[goldenraeofsun]

If you’re still doing the fic prompts I’d love enemies to friends to lovers and isolated or trapped. I love your writing and I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers plot lines!

Hour 0

Dean stomps his feet on the mat, trying to get rid of the snow caking stubbornly to his boots. It was a two minute walk from where he carefully parked his baby several cars down the driveway of Charlie’s rented cabin, but Dean and Sam look like they’d just gone toe to toe with an avalanche. As the door opens, grins. “Did someone say video games?” 

Charlie beams as she accepts a hello hug from Sam. “Just in time!” she tells them, tugging them both inside. “Kevin and Garth got here ten minutes ago. Jo’s making a liquor run, and Castiel is finishing setting up Monopoly.”

Dean’s relieved grin at finally getting out of the cold falls off his face at Castiel’s name. “Seriously?”

“It’s a legit game,” Charlie chides as she directs them further into the luxurious cabin she and the rest of her birthday party guests rented for the long weekend, “more legit than Vampirates vs. Goulpires,” she mutters under her breath. Before Dean could defend his totally not made up RPG, she adds, “Anyway, he also brought Clue, Sorry, Uno, and Settlers of Catan, before you jump down his throat for Monopoly.”

Dean scowls but admits, “I guess it wouldn’t be game night without the rest.”

“Exactly,” Charlie says primly.

“Nice place,” Sam says, unravelling his scarf as he walks inside, marveling at the exposed wood and other home deco shit Dean couldn’t care less about. There aren’t creepy paintings with eyes that follow you around or mounted animal heads on the wall, so it’s all good in Dean’s book. The owners are people who probably go glamping.

“It was a steal at this time of the year,” Charlie says with a grin. “Who knew nobody wanted to freeze their asses off in the middle of nowhere in January?”

“Wifi?” Sam asks, already hopefully rooting around in his pocket for his phone.

“I didn’t ask,” Charlie says cheerfully. As Sam’s face falls, she swats him in the arm. “This is going to be a completely offline weekend - and that’s coming from me. Don’t be a baby about it.” 

Just before the threshold of the living room, Charlie tugs Dean off to the side. “Hey, wait a sec.” They listen for a second as Sam’s appearance causes a brief uproar in loud greetings. “I know you don’t like Castiel-”

“’Cause he’s a dick,” Dean shoots back automatically.

“-but play nice,” Charlie continues, rolling her eyes. “It’s my birthday, and we definitely don’t need any macho man contests, got it?”

“Got it,” Dean grumbles. “But-”

“What?”

“I’m not gonna be blamed if he starts it,” Dean says, and he would cross his arms across his chest if he wasn’t carrying two bags full of three extra controllers and six videogames. He settles for glaring down at Charlie imperiously since he’s got the height advantage.

“See,” Charlie rolls her eyes, “This is why I’m so glad I’m a lesbian.”

Hour 1.5

“Come on!” Dean howls as Castiel fishes out the wedged bills from underneath Free Parking. “He’s already bought half the board!”

Charlie looks up from reorganizing the bank’s haphazard stacks of ones, fives, tens, twenties, and fifties. Plus a pathetic two five-hundred bills. The rest are already owned by Castiel.

Sam, who’d already declared bankruptcy twenty minutes ago and was already halfway to getting sharked by Jo in a poker with Kevin and Garth, elbows him in the ribs. “Play nice,” he hisses.

“He started it,” Dean retorts right to Castiel’s smirking face.

“By winning?” Castiel asks in an innocent tone that doesn’t fool Dean in the fucking least.

“By being an asshole,” Dean says darkly.

Sam just elbows him again.

Charlie rolls her eyes.

Hour 2

“That’s it! I’m done!” Dean declares, throwing down his two measly properties he managed to keep ahold of. “Take all my goddamn money.”

“Gladly,” Castiel says smugly as he adds Dean’s precious deeds to his pile of cards.

Charlie slaps her hand against her forehead.

“Alright, it’s you and me angel boy,” Dorothy says, leaning across the board. “Bring it.”

Hour 3

Castiel’s face falls faster than Yoshi just fell off Rainbow Road.

Dean’s currently in the lead, but he’s not so distracted by his impending victory to miss Castiel totally failing at Mario Kart. He hasn’t broken the top three since they started playing forty-five minutes ago. Dean grins widely.

“Oh, shut up,” Castiel grumbles as his eyes flick from the controller to the nearest wall and back again.

Dean’s gaze doesn’t deviate from the screen. “I didn’t say anything, jackass.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Sam mutters as he lobs a green koopa shell at Dean’s Mario.

Mario careens off the road, Luigi speeding past.

Dean’s mouth falls open. “What the hell, Sammy?” 

“All’s fair in love and war and Mario Kart,” Sam recites dutifully, his tongue between his teeth as he fights to keep his lead from Charlie’s Toad.

Hour 3.5

“Seriously, Dean?” Castiel demands over the sound of mashing buttons. “We are on the same team.”

“My bad,” Dean says blithely as he hammers on Yoshi again instead of aiming for Luigi or Toad. They’re clearly going to lose, but Dean might as well make it fun for himself.

Plus, there’s nothing Sam likes least than playing a boring game of Super Smash Bros. Serves him right, for forcing Dean to be on a team with Castiel. Oh we can’t be on a team together, Dean, we’ve had too much practice. It wouldn’t be fair - Dean’s shapely ass.

“You are being completely unreasonable.”

“D’you know who whines, Cas?” Dean taunts as he bonks Luigi once in the head before wailing on Yoshi, “babies.”

Castiel bursts out, “Dammit, Dean!” as Yosi gets blasted off screen, no thanks to Mario.

Dean isn’t the least bit sorry when Castiel does finally throw his controller at the wall and storms into the kitchen for more alcohol.

Hour 4

“Give me those goddamn sheep!” Dean hollers as he brandishes three lumber cards and an ore in Castiel’s face. “I know you have them.”

“I might,” Castiel says calmly, “but that has no bearing on whether or not I wish to trade with you.”

“You need lumber for that road,” Dean reminds him testily.

“Dorothy has extra lumber she might be willing to trade me,” Castiel says, eyes narrowing.

Dorothy looks up from where she’d been whispering conspiratorially with Charlie. “Uh, Charlie just took my extra lumber. Sorry.”

Castiel glares daggers of betrayal at the pair of them. “I forfeit my turn,” he announces, crossing his arms across his chest like a toddler refusing to walk one more step further.

“Seriously?” Dean gapes. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I am not,” Castiel thunders. “This whole evening, you’ve been recalcitrant and a poor loser. I don’t see why I have to accommodate such behavior.”

Dean slams down his hand on the table, rattling “Of all the goddamn pretentious bullshit-”

“Woah,” Kevin interrupts, alarmed. “Come on, guys, this doesn’t have to be a big deal-”

Dean interrupts, “He made it a big deal when he refused to trade the sheep!”

“This is not about the sheep, and you know it, Dean Winchester,” Castiel says severely.

“Okay,” Charlie says loudly, her mouth set in a firm line. “Time out.”

“Yes, thank you,” Castiel says gratefully. “I could do with a break -”

“No, a time out, Charlie says, pointing unambiguously at Castiel and Dean, “You two, get out until you can play nice together.”

Read the rest here!

[citygirlinschool]

Breaking Bad

Read it on Ao3

Original bingo

~

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

“I have got two research papers pending, I am falling behind on my thesis and I have to submit Mr D’s essay on Monday. So yes, I am not coming.” Frank resisted the urge to physically pick up the boy from his bed and throw him out. 

He could if he wanted to. Leo was a tiny slip of a thing, all wild curls and ADHD. And gods did the boy tempt him to do some serious bodily harm to him.

“Come on man you haven’t come to a single party since well... ever. This one is supposed to be real rager.” 

With a jerked motion he stood up from his desk, threw his door open and marched towards the kitchen. 

“Is that supposed to be a No?” There was ruffling of sheets and Oh my Gods he was wearing shoes the whole time.

His eyes twitched and he slammed the glass on the counter with more force than necessary. A drink, that’s what he needs.

“Mixed signals buddy.” And there he was in all his flannel glory, and those hideous pun t-shirt (Never trust an atom, they make up everything). Never would he have guessed the devil would be a elf in science pun t-shirts. 

“No, Valdez. I am not coming to your rager party.” He made towards the refrigerator.

“Whatever man your loss.” 

There was an audible slam of the door as the fridge door fell of it’s hinges and over a startled Frank, followed by a crash of food spilling on to the floor.

“LEO!” 

~

“So, what was it this time?” 

“He broke the fridge.” Frank stabbed his food gloomily.

“And?” Percy waved a ketchup covered fry.

“He fixed the AC.” Frank mumbled.

“That’s good right?” 

“After he broke it.” He snorted.

Percy was in the year above him. Swim team captain and marine biology major. They met by accident and hit it off immediately.

They made it a point to meet in the dinner near the college campus once a week, or when they could.

“What else?” he drawled lazily, and Frank would feel guilty about turning all these meetings into venting sessions, except Percy wasn’t the type to entertain people just because it’s polite, so he probably didn’t mind.

“He brought someone back to the dorm. Again. Some blondie, Maria. This is the third this month. And it’s distracting, and I have told him clearly to bring someone when I am gone… How does he even land these many?” 

“He is kinda cute?” Percy shrugged.

Frank pulled a face. “He has a horrible track record. Can you believe he flirted with Ms Grace?” 

“To be fair he flirts with everybody. I don’t think it counts.” 

“Still. That’s the Thalia Grace.”

 “Touché. Talked to the Dean?” 

“Jason said, only Octavian is vacant. And that guy is… creepy.”

Percy nodded solemnly. “Heard he guts plush toys to some cult god he worships.” 

Frank looked at him wide eyes, and just like that Leo was forgotten. 

At least until he reached back to his dorm. 

“Frankie! You are back.” Leo flashed him his infuriating smirk that he knows gets on his every nerves. “Hazel was just leaving.” And that asshole turns to her, “Until you changed your mind and decided to stay.” 

He flirts with everybody; it doesn’t mean anything. Percy’s voice echoed warningly in his mind.

Hazel flushes, and looks down. Those flawless curls hiding reddened cheeks. “Thanks for the offer but I can’t stay past curfew.” 

“Aw.” Leo leans forward, “That’s not a no.” he wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t be stickler for rules, get that enough from Frankie boo here.” 

This time Frank’s cheeks heat up. “Leo.” He hopes he would stop.

“Fine, Fine. Goodnight, Hazel.”

“Bye, Leo.” She presses her books to her chest, and Frank shuffles hurriedly to the side as Hazel moves past him.

He slams the door once Hazel is past. 

“So,” Leo straightens from where he was leaning against the wall. “Somebody has got a crush.”

“Don’t.”

“Cant blame you, she is a real looker.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t play.” He stalks back towards his room, his back toward the Latino. “You already knew that.” 

“I did?” there it is again, the annoying mocking tone he didn’t bother dignifying with a reply. But that didn’t deter Leo from barging in his room behind him either.

“I mean, were all those lectures ignored in the favour of staring at the back of her head, and doodling H+F in the back of your notebook, did give me an inclination but thought they stood for Himbo plus- “ 

“Shut up, asshole.” He whirled around. “You know I freaking liked her.” He stalked towards him. 

“Oh yeah like how you knew my Chatelier’s experiment made twelve percent of my grade?” 

“I apologized for it.” He spit back in his face, grabbing his forearms. 

“That doesn’t make up for it, jerk.” He hissed back.

Blood roared in his veins, drowning out any further jabbing remarks from the squirming boy in his arms.

Gods the things he would do to shut him up. 

“-and would you please let me go, I am pretty sure this counts as phys- Mmph! ” 

He kissed him. That annoying fucking mouth, with those pretty fucking lips. He bit on his lips tugging at them, pressing that tiny body against his.

He kissed him. Fuck.

Frank stumbled back in horror. “Shit I am sorry, I didn’t- “ 

“Oh no.” Leo lunged at him, and he stumbled back in surprise, catching his hips. “You would be sorry when I am done with you.” 

Harsh demanding lips pressed against him, a sharp nip and the metallic tang of blood spilled on his tongue, making him curse.

The heels of Leo’s feet dug in his back, “Bed, bed, bed!” He panted, slim but strong fingers tugging at his hair painfully, tilting it back. He grabbed his lips in another kiss that had his dick aching in his pants.

Frank stumbled blindly towards his twin bed, his hands groping the Latino’s ass, as they both fell on the congested bed in tangle of limbs.

Leo’s hand left his hair and trailed over his collar, clever fingers making a quick job of his shirt, hips shamelessly grinding in his abdomen. 

“Come on, man, get naked.” He ran his fingers over his chest, tweaking his nipples.

“Leo.” He pulled back, “Aren’t we going a bit fast.” 

Leo’s lips pulled back in a condescending sneer, “You sure you wanna be a cock blocker.”

His hand snaked down to the bulge in his pants, and he involuntarily humped forward into the pressure.   “I already hate you enough.”

That was a reminder enough. The clothes were gotten rid of in a flurry of uncoordinated limbs, and broken buttons, until a very naked Frank, had a very naked Leo in his lap. 

He dug his teeth into the hollow of his collar bones, and Leo hissed, but didn’t stop the wild rhythm of his hips. Frank’s hand squeezed the ample flesh in his hands and parting them. 

The head of his cock slipped between them, sliding over the fuzzy hole.

Leo’s hips stuttered, and he exhaled shakily, fingers digging in his shoulders hard enough that Frank knew they would leave welts.

“Lube? Tell me you have lube” his voice was so deep; it had his cock twitching.

“Top drawer, in the back.” He mumbled, leaning back until he was laying down as Leo stretched over him, searching his drawer.

He couldn’t help but mouth over his well formed abdomen, for his deceptively short stature he was strong. Lithe muscles and surprisingly broad shoulders. 

Fuck he hated him so much.

There was a click of lube opening, as Leo pulled back, his fingers dripping with lube.

He leaned forward, one hand beside his head while he reached behind him.

Frank knew the exact moment Leo’s fingers breached him. His eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched and his breathing became a tad bit heavier. 

He reached up, pressing a sweet almost a innocent kiss against his lips, and for a moment Leo let him. 

“Let me do it.”

And just like that Leo pulled away. 

His weeping cock bobbed proudly between his supple thighs, his dusky nipple looked raw and abused, there was a myriad of hickies littering his chest and his hair was wilder than usual. 

Yet, that jerk had the audacity to smirk mockingly at him.

“Not your girlfriend, Zhang. So don’t treat me like it.” he must have done something inside him cause his eyes fluttered for a moment. “Besides- Ah” his back arched, “we are doing this by-mmh- my rules, cause clearly you are as clueless in this-Ah!”

“What is your problem.” Frank had jostled his fingers out of him as he flipped them over. “I am just trying to be nice.” He snarled.

“No what you’re trying to do.” A lube covered finger smeared across his neck, “is fucking coddle me.” He spat.

“I am not coddling you.” He glared indignantly at the infuriating boy underneath him.

“Oh yeah? What is this? Fucking me? Please, you are not even in me.” He sneered mockingly.

“I am- I don’t –” Leo mercifully cut his spluttering off with a kiss.

“God I didn’t know I had to just spread my legs to get underneath your skin.”

He would have tried replying, except Leo had wrapped his lubed up hand around his dick, slicking it up with quick efficient strokes, and Frank had been so painfully hard all this time all he could do was helplessly jerk forward into the warm wet hole, until Leo tightened his grip. “Don’t come.” He warned, as he guided him to his stretched hole.

Frank to his dying day would deny the sound he emitted when his head slipped in.

A loud unashamed sound, as his head dropped onto Leo’s shoulder, as he panted harshly. Leo was tighter and hotter then anything he had ever felt before. And so deliciously soft.

He wouldn’t have been able to stop the unrelenting rolls of his hips as he pushed deeper if he wanted to.

Like he had no control over his hips, he pushed in inch after inch, as Leo’s back arched off the bed until Frank bottomed out.

For a moment Frank could just lay still and shiver so as to not bust a nut, Leo as so tight around him, it was probably painful for him.

“Move, move, move, jackass.” Or maybe not.

“Oh, gods fuck me, or I am gonna fuck up your laptop and not repair- Oh yesss!” Leo’s eyes rolled back in his head, as Frank pulled out almost all the way and then pushing in rapidly. 

“Why can’t you shut up for a moment.” Frank picked up his pace. “For once –mmh” his nipped at his ear, “just shut up- ah fuck- and moan.” 

“Maybe- mmph- Maybe if you put all that beef - oh Dios- and man boobs (he gripped said boobs) to use than I will.” 

Frank dug his teeth right below his ears, just shy of tearing skin, but definitely marring the skin, as he readjusted his grip, hooking his hands underneath his knees and practically folding the twink (because that’s what Leo fucking Valdez is and Frank is tired of lying) in half. 

He must have hit his prostrate with the deeper angle cause Leo made a he- would- never- admit- it- but- adorable high-pitched sound, his hands flying between his legs, except Frank slapped it away and wrapped his own hand around his flushed, almost painfully purple cock.

Much to his pleasure Leo hooked his own hand underneath his knees, holding himself open.

“Didn’t know” he panted, “all it took was a good dicking down to shut you up.” 

Leo’s eyes opened up to slits, in what he thinks is a glare, but it is hard to take him seriously on good days, even harder with his cock stupid bambi eyes, and drool covered chin.

Fuck! This is the hottest thing ever and Frank hates him so much.

Frank lost his carefully maintained rhythm, finally rutting in abandon. The bed creaked threateningly, the headboard banging fiercely with the force of his thrusts.

Paired with the slick sound of where Frank was jerking Leo off, slap of skin against skin and squelch of Frank fucking Leo, it sounded like a cheap porno.

Harsh breathing was littered with moans and litany of curses. There tongues ran sloppily against each other, Leo tweaked his nipples, clenching down on Frank as they both hurtled toward the peak like freight train.

The orgasm was a bang.

Literally. 

In hindsight, two fully grown men fucking on a barely hanging on twin bed was not the wisest plan. But what can he say? Leo brings out the worst in him.

“Did it?” Frank muttered tiredly. All he wanted to do was sleep.

“Get off.” Leo’s voice was slurred and strained, “You are suffocating me. And you are sleeping on the couch.” 

~

“What was it this time?” 

“The bed.” 

“Leo broke your bed?” 

“Something like that.” Frank mumbled.

[the-firebird69]

Freddie Mercury Queen And Michael Jackson #shorts

So I heard you said Tito's haircut is little on fire on stage you said and I heard it again from him here and he said oh okay so he's helping me out he doesn't want to be smoking it looks weird it smokes marijuana in the future if there's no need for cigarettes it's juicing up and I already juiced mine and so he says this I don't need to hear that stuff but it's true and this is a joke too he said it's in living color in this idiot started that TV show

Tell the dentist head in cold water twice a day and it says it works and it actually does it makes you think and it cool off and to calm down and start doing it again it's still a ransom person he's terrible that guy is everything and nothing all the time I wonder if they're down there it was part of that truly man fleet trillion man fleet

Garth

But checking that we don't see anything so far and we didn't see it go there and we saw some of it go to Saturn and we're calling the guys and they say we don't know they may have been some blips

MAC daddy

Fair enough of this s*** wearing a lot of trouble we have to check we're going to try and do it bja

We both should we have to do something these Giants are gigantic I don't I don't want to make any jokes they're just way too big and he's right we're a bunch of jackass stiffs

Mac daddy

Now you see what we're saying you're running around circles there's nothing to do bothering our son getting in trouble losing your money and stuff so just taking it cuz we need it and we don't care about your program that much we'll run your share with ease

Thor Freya

By the way we have a whole bunch of stuff coming down right now sort of but it's intermingled with everybody and they know it's for them cuz I see it and it is and it's for factories and Trump has been threatening them all the time and they're waiting to get out so they can get rid of them I'll tell you what that guy is a huge a******* and he's put hits on him and we're getting rid of the clan and we just if we can't stand it start getting rid of them cuz you need to feel better other than complaining to someone who's trying to work on it and everybody is doing it and everybody has to listen and they're not if you want to feel better about it get out there and cut them in half where You are and you'll feel better. Now I understand something he's been saying it and saying you're not listening Thor and Freya if you're tired of them go cut them in half it's the same not to we have to have some sort of inquiry

Frank Castle hardcastle

And yeah we evoke the reaction but we see

It

..

These people are very very annoying and we are going to go after them and he's right we should not put up with it we still are and he's just going to sit here demanding it he says those are my Giants and I want people to pay attention to me they're very dangerous they're huge one of them could rampage and destroy a country in a few minutes and he wants these stupid assholes out. I do have to listen to that they're way too big and we can't lose one of them and we have to get on this I'll tell you what I am so sick of hearing this and he says good find someone who's free like my kids or something and tell them that we need this and it's going to help in infant testimony it is just really going to help and we need to go berserk so it doesn't take long and we just keep doing it and in groups in groups and patches it's just disgusting it's disgusting there come on let's get rid of them and so I hear him and we're venting but really it's been ordering it and ordering it and it is sitting here next door bothering him like it's legal and people are trying but they just not doing it he says why don't we get up and destroy them with Giants and everybody will fight them over them it's been seen or kill them with Giants and then nobody cares and we do see that I mean I want that done he says I want to test right now and I want to go to Olympus and someone to support it and my son and daughter-in-law say they will and say I'm saying I'm going to champion it and we're going to get with them and go now it's a great idea nobody's going to care they'll just run up there and die and we need to raise them

Duke nukem Blockbuster

Yeah you go up there a sloth and you feed them your blood and they raise and they rise and they destroy the rest of you you're a cur in a weekly and a stupid pots for sitting there making my home into a prison that's what you deserve you'll think you're going to get one cuz you're such a putz you won't get anything you're a weakling and a f****** retard you don't have any AI that does anything and your interface is fail and like an hour in humans and this is much harder

Zues Hera we're not going to tell you how to do it either even though we're talking you stupid s***

I sort of get the message get out of here and stay out and die and stuff and this is how and it does work on me and I'm getting out of here if I die of you to blame I guess thank you I'm trying to kill you you puts and people will hurt you and I said no they won't they're going to thank me like your grandson and your son forgetting the rid of the f*** of you cuz you're f****** horrible you piece of garbage and he says all that and it's probably true probably

Billy Hicks

I like how it says that cuz you were this fool in 5th grade who went around bothering everyone and you got the s*** kicked out of you and you kept doing it finally they had him get kick you out and I tell you what he's got power but everyone's got behind it and they put those notes in there and that's what it says he didn't do it you but f*** we had him say it because he wanted him to put you to bother him and get rid of you that's what's happening now everyone's getting ready to even us

Dan

We have to help him now he wants these guys out we know that the Giants will work on them and it'll draw them in first it did in Tortuga and they can't find their ass or their elbow down there and they can't even find them at all in Maine that's why these movies start we think

Thor Freya

Olympus

[amedetoiles]

pls tell me your thoughts about the potential for wwx-jgy friendship? i just like the idea of them having similar experiences as like: poor street kid/poor brothel kid, would kill god for the people they care about, made of knives, incredibly charming and personable. i feel like they could have Seen each other and understood each other really well, and like, things would have ended up better maybe?

Gosh. Ok, so full disclosure before I answer this: I am really not the most sympathetic towards Jin Guangyao. I am just not a fan of him in any universe where he is complicit if not directly responsible for the death of his own child to protect his own reputation (up for debate, but nonetheless Jin Rusong fucking deserved better), gaslights his wife / half-sister into committing suicide, and has a monologue meltdown about how difficult his life has been to his own orphaned and bullied nephew whose childhood he had a hand in destroying. I am glad he got kicked down the same stairs twice, and I am glad Nie Huaisang beat him at his own game. All in all to say that my thoughts on him might be colored by this. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But let’s get into this! Jin Guangyao is a great character foil to Wei Wuxian. The circumstances of his life that shaped his morality (or lack thereof) and the choices he makes in response are tragic and understandable. I definitely think Jin Guangyao could have been a different person, a better person, if his father wasn’t such a trash heap, if society hadn’t been such a gigantic dick about his mother, and if he hadn’t needed to claw his way into achieving everything he did. Wei Wuxian says himself that he doesn’t consider Jin Guangyao a villain.

However, I hesitate to say that had they struck up a friendship, Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian could have understood each other easily and that this could have changed things. Don’t get me wrong! I can definitely see how influence could have been made where a friendship between these two would have fixed it all. Or at least improved things. Especially in association with Wei Wuxian, Jiang Yanli’s nonjudgemental kindness (under the condition that nobody hurts her little brothers) would have been extremely refreshing to Meng Yao.

But I also think the differences between Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao would have made it difficult for them to truly understand and agree with each other. And it’s these differences that ultimately decide each of their fates.

I will try to organize my thoughts on this. First, the discussion of privilege.

1. Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao are not on the same privilege level.

While both Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao are scorned in some way, shape, or form for their parents’ statuses, Wei Wuxian is still the son of cultivators. He is still the son of Cangse sanren, a disciple of a famed immortal. His pedigree and legacy are undeniable. Jin Guangyao, on the other hand, is the unwanted son of a lecherous sect leader and a sex worker. In a society where hierarchy and reputation is everything, this places Jin Guangyao in an entirely different pedigree in a way that Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be able to understand.

Wei Wuxian is also brought into the Jiang sect and given a chance to cultivate at an early age where Jin Guangyao doesn’t. Wei Wuxian can punch the heir of a rich sect leader, leading to the dissolution of his sister’s political marriage alliance, and still get nothing but a slap on the wrist because boys will be boys. He can interrupt important post-war celebration dinners to tell that same rich sect leader to fuck off with his marriage proposal and then promptly skip away without any real consequences. He can accidentally send his friend’s little brother into a murderous rampage, and his own little brother will apologize on his behalf and offer to pay reparations.

Wei Wuxian may not have the same privilege as sect heirs like Jiang Cheng or Lan Wangji, but he has far more privilege than Jin Guangyao and Su She. This is important because it is this privilege that Wei Wuxian sacrifices later in order to the protect the Wens. I am not saying Wei Wuxian doesn’t suffer. He does, a truly horrendous amount, but even without his golden core, even when his self-worth is at an all-time low, he is still supported and protected by his status in the Jiang sect until he gives it up to do the right thing. Despite Lan Xichen and the Nies, Jin Guangyao doesn’t have this same kind of backing.

(With that being said though, Jin Guangyao does become Chief Cultivator, so there is only so far one can fall back on their disadvantages in society when they have already reached the top. Being marginalized is not an excuse to be a jackass to your nephew whose parents you had a hand in killing, just saying.)

One can argue that had Jin Guangyao been raised in the Jiang sect while Wei Wuxian continued to scrape for food on the streets, their outlook on life would have been completely different. But even taking into account Jiang Yanli’s overwhelmingly positive influence on a young Meng Yao, I am still inclined to disagree because of my next point.

2. Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao are fundamentally different in how they respond/cope with public gossip and ridicule.

Wei Wuxian, for the most part, lets these comments roll off his back. This is not to say he doesn’t care or that they don’t affect him. They clearly do, and his actions, his self-perception, and his increasingly arrogant bravado as the story progresses reflect the deluge of verbal abuse he’s face with, largely at the hands of Madam Yu. But he copes by being loud, by being talented, by becoming even more outrageous and more unorthodox the more people criticize him. So what if people don’t approve? So what if people look down on his father and gossip about his mother’s supposed relationship with Jiang Fengmian? As long as he is true to himself and his moral convictions, he can walk this dark single plank road alone and without regrets.

Jin Guangyao, on the other hand, desperately and reverently wants to be included. He wants to be accepted, to be liked. He wants to be in the room where it happens. He takes every single comment to heart, carries every disdainful remark on his back like an open scar. He is both someone who loves and respect his mother and who hates her for the constant shadow she casts over him and his place in society. He will build a Guanyin statue in her likeness, in her honor. He will wear a hat because she once told him that a gentleman always wears hats. And yet, he will spend everyday of his life trying to rid himself of his connection to her.

Where Wei Wuxian recklessly cares too little about appearances and what people think of him, Jin Guangyao cares far too much. Wei Wuxian doesn’t give one flying iota about politics, about status and acclaim. He was perfectly fine with being a lotus farmer on a mountain. Even if Wei Wuxian had never been taken in by the Jiangs (and managed to survive the streets), I genuinely think he would still have been largely the same – a child who is kind, open, curious, and holds few grudges. I am not sure I can say that even under the best circumstances, Jin Guangyao wouldn’t have . It destroys him. .

This ties into my last point.

3. Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao have completely opposing priorities and beliefs on the worth of others.

Wei Wuxian will throw himself in front of anybody if his moral compass tells him it is the right thing to do. He is a genuinely open-hearted person who cares deeply about others and thinks it is morally corrupt to do nothing when something can be done. He is idealistic and optimistic, oftentimes to a fault. Jin Guangyao, as a result of his childhood and circumstances, is incredibly pessimistic and cynical. It is every person for themselves out here. The world is a crooked shitshow, conflict is inevitable, and he has to come out on top no matter what.

This leads to him sacrificing pretty much everyone in his life in order to maintain his own reputation. Like I do genuinely think Jin Guangyao truly cared about Jin Ling! I think he also in his own way cared about Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Nie Huaisang! But I also think a large portion of that is because he enjoyed how they made him feel. He enjoyed being liked and being depended upon. And we see clearly what happens when those benefits cease. Whereas Wei Wuxian would rather throw himself off a cliff than hurt any more people he loves, Jin Guangyao would rather push his own people off the cliff if it means his reputation and appearance remain intact. And if that’s not possible, he would rather set them on fire along with him.

This has become an entirely too long rambling essay to say that while Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao share similar experiences, their primary priorities are so different and opposing that it is hard for me to come up with a way in which a friendship between them could have changed things. Sure, Jin Guangyao could have benefited from Wei Wuxian’s unabashed and staunch defense of his friend. Anyone who talks shit about Jin Guangyao’s mother will get punched in the face, and it would maybe have made Jin Guangyao feel less alone in the world, less like he only had himself and his manipulative ways to seek acceptance.

But what happens when Wei Wuxian being Wei Wuxian runs around causing social and political uproar to do what he thinks is right? Is Jin Guangyao going to help and support him, or is he going to throw Wei Wuxian under the bus to protect his own reputation? Personally, I think the importance he places on public perception would ultimately be too great. It destroys his relationships, and it destroys him.

[sorry-apsalar]

I Don’t Want You Dating Other Robots

I wanted to write a fic in which Bender was compelled to make the first move and discovery wrote my way into writing this. I don't know if this even really counts as him making a move, he kinda just stumbles into it after being an asshole for a while.

~

Going to the bar with Fry, Leela, Amy, and Kif was supposed to have been fun. It had been for a time until Fry decided he wanted to ditch the group to flirt with seemingly every other man in the bar. Okay maybe it was only one other man but he was rather handsome and a robot. And to as a cherry on top of this cake of what the fuck, he seemed to be into Fry. Which just didn’t make sense because it was Fry, how could anyone be into Fry? Especially a fellow robot?

“Is there any particular reason you’re glaring so intently at Fry and his new friend?” Leela, sitting across the table from him, asked.

“No!” Bender lied. … Actually though, he was too grumpy about it to keep it to himself. “Why is he flirting with a bot?” He gestured angrily in their general direction. “He already has a robot best friend, isn’t that enough?” What did that bot have that Bender didn’t? “And why does it look like he’s flirting back? Surely he can do better than Fry.”

“You sound jealous,” Amy said from her spot next to Leela.

“I am not. I’m just angry because it doesn’t make sense.”

“Well,” Leela said with a sigh, “if it makes you feel any better, I’m a little jealous too. He only just came out to us as gay last week and he’s already having more luck with men than I ever have.”

“Ah Leela,” Amy put an arm on her shoulder, “that’s not true. He’ll only have had more luck than you if he can actually get a boyfriend and keep him for more than a few days. Which well…” she glanced back over her shoulder at them, “it looks like might be the case. They seem to be hitting it off quite well.”

“Not if I can help it.” Bender slammed his hand on the table as he stood up.

“Uh… maybe you shouldn’t,” Kif said in a meek voice.

Without looking at him, Bender flipped him off, ignoring his shocked and offended gasp as he left.

“Hey Fry,” he said a bit louder than was necessary as he reached Fry and his new ‘friend’. “How’s it going?” He placed himself right next to Fry, standing a bit closer than needed, to glare at the other robot.

“Oh hey Bender.” Fry’s voice had that loose quality to it that indicated he’d crossed the border of tipsy into drunk a couple drinks ago. “This is Samuel. He’s really nice.”

Bender crossed his arms as he looked Samuel up and down. “I’m sure he is.”

Unsurprisingly, Samuel was visibly uncomfortable. His eyes shifted from Bender to Fry as if trying to figure out what their relation was to each other.

“And Samuel,” Fry said, too drunk and too stupid to notice the tension, “this is Bender, my best friend in the whole universe.” He put a clumsy arm around Bender’s shoulders and patted him on the front, making a loud clang. That… somehow eased Bender’s anger a bit.

“Oh friends, I see,” Samuel said, at ease now. Which just made Bender annoyed again. “Nice to meet you Bender.” He held out a hand, offering to shake like some kind of polite jackass. Bender ignored it.

Instead he put an arm around Fry’s shoulders, encouraging him to lean even more into him than he was already starting to. “Speaking of that, come on Fry, we got important best friend stuff to do, remember?” He said as he turned away, pulling Fry with him.

“Huh?” Fry mumbled sounding almost a little like Farnsworth. “What stuff?” He was way too drunk to be flirting with anyone so really Bender was saving him from a potentially not good situation; the only person allowed to rob Fry while he was too drunk to do anything about it was Bender. It had nothing to do with jealousy or fear of being left behind.

“Just stuff.” Bender would have to think of something in the next few minutes – or not, Fry was too drunk to care really – all that mattered though was that Fry wasn’t flirting with Samuel anymore.

Back at their table, Amy grinned up at them as they approached. “And you say you’re not jealous. Though I’m not sure if it’s romantic jealousy or just you being you again. It’s hard to tell with you sometimes.”

“My money’s on the former,” Leela chimed in as if she even knew anything about romance.

Bender glared at both of them and Kif too for good measure because he was with them. “What do you guys even know? Nothing, that’s what. Now if you’ll excuse me, we’re going home, we have best friend stuff to do.”

“Did we have plans I forgot about?” Fry asked as he was pulled away. Bender ignored him.

 -

“Oh, I get it,” Fry said a short while later as they were reentering their apartment.

“Get what?” Bender asked as he released Fry at last.

Fry didn’t break away though, he remained gripping Bender’s arm for balance. “You were jealous because I was flirting with another robot, right?”

“Uh what? No! Why would I be jealous of that?”

“Because you’re worried I’m going to replace you or something, right?” He didn’t give Bender any time to even try to reply before continuing. “But you don’t need to worry about that, okay? You were my first friend here in the future and honestly, you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had. So you mean the world to me and no one could ever replace you, you’ll always be my best friend no matter what.” Grinning like the drunk idiot he was, Fry leaned in and patted Bender on the chest before finally pushing away and stumbling drunkenly over the couch, leaving Bender standing awkwardly by the door.

“I want more than just that though.”

Bender had whispered it and hadn’t meant to voice it at all really but Fry looked up at him. “Huh? What’d you say?”

“Nothing!” Bender snapped more intensely than intended. “I didn’t say anything.”

Fry gave him a confused look before shrugging it off and turning his attention to retrieving the TV remote from the coffee table, a task made more difficult by his inebriation. Good, he was dropping it.

Trying not to be awkward about it, Bender strode over and sat next to him. Okay so maybe he was a little jealous Fry had been successfully flirting with another robot and maybe that jealously did have its roots in how he felt about Fry and the fact that he was suddenly far more aware of the fact he didn’t just want to be best friends. It wasn’t a feeling he should be having because Fry was a human on top of the fact that Fry had just confirmed he’d only ever see Bender as a friend. But just like how he wasn’t supposed to have feelings in general, it was a feeling he had and couldn’t get rid of, especially now that he’d acknowledged it. Acknowledging one’s feelings always made them stronger which is why he typically tried not to whenever it was a feeling he didn’t want but it was too late now and it was all Fry’s fault, Leela and Amy’s too for being the one’s to bring up the possibility in the first place. All three of them could go fuck themselves, especially Fry, making him feel things, how dare they? Well, he was going to pretend he felt nothing until it eventually became the truth just to spite them.

 -

It didn’t go away though. If anything, it only grew stronger. His jealousy did too every time he caught Fry flirting with someone, especially if they were another robot because that just hit too close to home. Unfortunately, Fry seemed to have a preference for robots, making it that much worse. What did any of those bots have that Bender didn’t? He was better than all of them combined, why wasn’t Fry even remotely interested in him like that?

Fry somehow even managed to go on three dates despite Bender’s best efforts, only one of which was with another human. Bender sabotaged all three of course, ruining Fry’s chances of going on any further dates with those people. During the first one he’d tried to be discreet but ultimately failed and didn’t even bother trying for the other two. Which inevitably led to Fry confronting him about it.

“I’m beginning to think you have a problem with me dating people,” Fry said, giving Bender a side-eye glare as they returned home. Despite the damage done to his clothes as a result of the small explosion Bender had caused to end the date, he didn’t go to his room to change.

“What gave you that idea?” Bender replied, feigning nonchalance as he returned to his spot on the couch. He extended an arm for the remote but before he could grab it, Fry strode over to the coffee table and snatched it away. This apparently was a conversation they were going to have right now whether Bender liked it or not.

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re always dragging me away whenever you see me flirting with someone. Or how you ruined all three of the dates I’ve been on so far. Which is just no fair because I’ve lived practically my whole life in the closet and now that I’m finally allowed to be out, I still can’t date or even flirt with anyone because you’re always stopping me. What’s all that about?”

Bender maybe should’ve prepared a response for when this finally came up but he’d chosen to spend his time doing other things instead. But it now left him floundering for an explanation that wouldn’t give him away. … So… “Stop dating and flirting with robots and I’ll stop stopping you.” Maybe he could brush thing off as him disapproving of robo-sexual relationships. It was more accepted these days but there were still quite a few people who looked down on it. He’d never been one himself because why would he care what other people did if it didn’t involve him? But Fry shouldn’t know that about him.

Crossing his arms, Fry frowned down at him. “Who I date is none of your business. And… and… you’re not my dad so I’m not going to let you stop me. I can do whatever I want now and I’m going to so fuck you.” With that he turned and stomped out which was bad enough on its own but he brought the remote with him.

Bender glared after him. Maybe he should follow, make sure Fry didn’t do something stupid or something Bender didn’t want him to do. … Nah, that’d just make him madder. As it was he’d probably get over it in a few hours, a day or two at most. So instead, with the robot equivalent of an angry sigh, he extended an arm to turn on the TV that way which sucked because no one should have to do that. When Fry returned it better be with the remote or there’d be hell to pay.

A Week or so Later

Fry wasn’t over it. He didn’t seem actively mad anymore but he did avoid Bender. He even went out alone in the evenings, not returning until late at night or in three instances the next morning. Unbearable!

Bender inevitably ended up waiting up for him one night because this just couldn’t stand. What he’d say when Fry got here, he didn’t know nor did he care yet, he’d figure it out in the moment. He didn’t drink while he waited because how could he when Fry disdained his company so much? … Also, it should earn at least some pity points; Fry couldn’t possibly stay mad at him when he was pitifully inebriated, right?

Despite his best efforts though he wasn’t quite as inebriated as he wanted to be when Fry finally returned. He faked it good though, turning his head as Fry opened door and making a pitiful moaning sound.

Fry closed the door behind him with a sigh before turning to look at Bender lying on the couch. “Really Bender? Can’t you just apologize like a normal person?”

“Maybe I don’t want to apologize.” He had sort of been planning on it but… there went that. And now they were probably just going it fight again, great.

But… instead of making a retort, Fry shook his head, rolling his eyes as he turned away. He didn’t spare Bender another glance before moving on to his room. He didn’t even say any variation of ‘goodnight’ like he normally did when going to bed.

Why was he so mad? Bender just didn’t want him dating anyone, especially other robots. That wasn’t that bad. … Okay so maybe it was kind of bad if one didn’t know why Bender felt that way. … Ugh.

With a groan, he rolled over, off the couch and onto his feet. Low on fuel and power due to the time of night, the world swayed around him, almost making him fall over. He shook it off though and stumbled over to Fry’s room with little mishap. He knocked but… got no answer. Not surprising really so instead he just opened the door and poked his head in.

Fry was inside of course, sitting on his bed, half undressed and now giving Bender an annoyed glare. “What do you want? It’s late, I’m trying to go bed.”

That wasn’t a demand to get out so Bender stepped in, closing the door behind him so he could lean back into. “All those times I interfered with your love life it was because I don’t want you dating other robots.”

“Um… what? I’m pretty sure you already made that clear.”

“I don’t have a problem with humans dating robots or whatever I just don’t want you dating other robots, okay?”

“Uh… why specifically me?” He really didn’t get it.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” Bender was probably out of it enough to say it too if he were pushed far enough.

“Say what?” Gosh, while Fry’s stupidity was often charming or worth a good laugh this was just frustrating.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t date people, especially robots, who aren’t me.” If he had to say it any clearer than that he was going to blow gasket.

Fry stared blankly off into the corner of the room as his mind clearly worked through what those words meant. The moment it clicked was clearly visible on his face as he snapped his gaze back onto Bender. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I know you don’t feel the same or whatever so I’ll just go now. Sorry for messing with your love life, I’ll stop now.” And hate every single second of it but what else could he do?

Careful of his compromised balance, he turned to go. Before he could do any more than grasp the doorknob though…

“Wait,” Fry called him back. “Why didn’t you say that before?”

Having turned back to face him, Bender shrugged. “Why would I when you’re clearly not interested?”

Fry stood up. “What if I am interested though and just never really thought about? Because like… you’re my best friend so I kind of never considered it I guess because you were just the too obvious choice or whatever. And even if I had thought of it, I never would’ve believed you’d be interested.”

“So… are you saying that you are interested?”

“I uh… yeah, I guess now that I’ve thought about it, I am.”

This was an unexpected development but Bender wasn’t going to question his good fortune. “Oh uh… in that case, want to go out for drinks sometime as like a date or something?” Wow, what a way to ask, he really needed some booze and a good sleep to recharge.

With a nod and grin, Fry stepped closer to him. “Sure, sounds like fun!” There was a long almost awkward pause before he continued. “So uh… what now? Do we kiss?”

Bender shrugged because of all the ways he’d ever gotten himself into a romantic relationship this was undoubtedly the most awkward. “Do you want to?”

Fry shrugged too. “It’s late so maybe we should just go to bed talk about this more in the morning. And uh hmmm… I guess since you’re already here you can spend the night in here with me if you like. I even got some beer stashed in the nightstand drawer if you’d like some since uh… I know you need it and stuff.”

“Wow, we haven’t even kissed yet and you’re already inviting me to bed.”

Fry chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck. ��Yeah, I guess it is kind of weird, huh? I didn’t think we’d actually do anything though I uh…” he looked Bender up and down, “wouldn’t even know how to with you.” Meaning he hadn’t fucked any other robots like Bender had feared; things just kept getting better.

Bender didn’t know how humans worked in that area either, the only one he’d ever actually dated had been just a head in a jar. “We’ll figure that stuff out later. For now, beer and sleep is more than enough.” And maybe he’d trouble Fry for a kiss before they actually fell asleep or in the morning to really seal the deal on whatever their relationship had somehow just become.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Jerk (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Fem!Reader

@adainelartz​ asked:  “ I read your oneshots and I think they're great! I wanted to request an angst (sad or hapy end) oneshot where the reader has a fire quirk or something similar, and Shouto and Her had been classmate in elementary or middle school and people used to bully Y/n chan for thinking she could be like endeavor with her being weak or a top hero with a quirk like hers and Shouto just watches every beat ups given to y/n chan and Y/n chan decides to snap in UA and take revenge and targets to hurt Shouto most.”

Genre: Angst to slight fluff

Word count: 3,361

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ 

a/n:  I swear this was going to take a shorter amount of time to write and it was going to be a lot shorter as well.  But what can I say, I’m a writer; I write, my brain starts working, I write more, the gears turns more, what do I do, say no?  No, I keep writing.

This ending isn't the best and it feels kind of rushed, but I also didn't know how else to end it and I wanted to hurry and finish it and I already almost fell asleep sitting up at my keyboard at least twice, so I wrote the first thing that came to my head.  I hope I did your request justice, babe~ Thank you again for letting me write it~

Also, if you haven’t seen, I hit 600 followers yesterday!  Though I don’t know why you all are here, thank you for being here and sticking through my poor update schedule.  I appreciate you all.  Enjoy the story~

I hate him.

He's oblivious as I bore holes into the back of his head.  Mr. I-Got-In-On-Recommendation just sits there studying like the studious boy he is.  Everyone thinks he's so great, but I know he's no better than a bully.

"Are you okay, (Y/n)?" Jirou asks, eyeing me warily as he headphone jacks flit around.  "You need to calm down, your food's already dead."

Looking down, there were holes in my salmon from me poking at it.  "I'm fine, just thinking of something."

"You must be thinking of killing someone then," Kaminari laughs nervously, scooting an inch away from me.  "I'd hate to be on the receiving end of that."

He flinches when I smirk at him.  "You probably should be."  I'm only joking, but after Bakugou, I'm the next scariest person in 1-A.  It doesn't help that my quirk is also dangerous.

But it wasn't always that way, unfortunately.  Back in middle school, I could barely light a candle with my fire quirk, flames barely stuttering out a cold, dark red flame before collapsing on itself.  I've always been vocal about being a powerful top hero, and my quirk should've matched those ambitions.  Instead, I was a weakling.  No one believed me or took me seriously.  They laughed at me, teased me, scoffed at me, disregarded all my dreams.  But I never gave up, I kept my dreams close to me and resolved to work harder.

I tried befriending Todoroki just because I thought he could give me pointers, since he has a Fire quirk also, but he wasn't very open to making friends or talking about that half of his quirk.  In fact, he was always cold to everyone, but somehow he was still popular.  So popular that some girls in my classes berated me for getting close to him.  They were my worst bullies; just because I tried being friendly with their crush, they started teasing me about how weak I was, humiliating me in front of the class, writing nasty messages on my desk, pouring water on me.  It even got to the point where they started pulling me out after class and during lunch to beat me up.  I would be the punching bag or target of all their quirks.

"This is what a real hero fights like!  Not some puny whore like you!"

They'd growl and laugh at me, and I couldn't defend myself.  And on a few occasions, I'd see Todoroki standing a distance away as I was battered and bruised.

I didn't care that he didn't know it was because of him that I was being abused.  I was angry because he just stood there, watching as those girls beat me up and called me names.  I curse his apathy, those cold eyes as he stared right at me, met eyes with me, and chose to walk away as if nothing was happening.  Just because his quirk is already strong, he looked down on weak fools like me.  What a pompous asshole.

Months before entrance exams, I'd had enough of being a busted-up rag doll.  I trained late into the wee hours of morning, pouring over countless online guides for unleashing your quirk.  The first time I was able to sustain a bright red flame for more than 30 seconds, I almost cried in victory.  The more I trained, the more powerful and hotter my flames became, spanning from red to orange to bright yellow, even white in short bursts.  By the time the UA Entrance Exam rolled around, I'd attained incredible control over the temperature and sizes of flames I can make.  Getting into UA has been my best achievement since I worked so hard for it.

Imagine how bitter I was when I heard Todoroki got in on recommendations.

I wasn't just bitter, I was pissed.  A cold, pompous jerk like him got in just because he's known to have a really powerful quirk and his father is a Pro Hero.  He doesn't even have a hero attitude!  How can someone who doesn't even help a bully victim be a real hero?

From the first day of starting UA, I vowed to make Shouto Todoroki pay for his mistakes.

"Hey, (Y/n)?"  Kirishima places a hand on my shoulder as we walk back to our classroom.  "You went to the same junior high as Todoroki, right?"

"Yeah, why?"  I try not to visibly bristle at his name.

Shark-Teeth hesitates, trying to word his next question as delicate as possible as his features twist awkwardly.  "You two aren't very fond of each other, are you?"

"We just didn't talk," I put it bluntly.

Kiri rubs behind his neck.  "I would've thought that, you know, since you two have similar quirks you would've at least-"

"He's not a very..."  Friendly, kind, decent- "Talkative person.  He didn't really have friends in school."  I sit down in my seat and pull out my books, signalling I want to end the conversation.

Thankfully, Kirishima recognizes this, mouthing an "Okay..." before retreating to his own seat for class to begin.

.

Later that day, we're into duo teams for battle trials.  My teammate ends up being Ojiro.  At least it's not that jerk.  As Bakugou and Midoriya fight it out, we're discussing tactics in the back of the room.

"You're much better at close combat than me," I explain, "So you should go out and take on the other members while I guard the weapon.  If you need backup, I'll come out to help you."  I already anticipate how Todoroki's going to attack.  Being pitted against him is the perfect opportunity for me to get back at him.

When it's our turn, we set up inside the building near the weapon.  I tug my gloves over my long sleeves.  "Stay behind me.  Whatever happens, don't panic," I mutter as I stand near the blond's tail.

Ojiro's confused expression is about to ask me why when the entire building starts rumbling.  I activate orange fire out of my hands as the ice starts sweeping inside the room.  Typical.  At first, the ice is about to trap us, but I expand the size of the flames and sweep them over the entire inside of the room, careful not to burn the weapon.

"How did you know he would do that?" Ojiro asks, obviously impressed by my foresight.

"Instinct.  Todoroki's going to come in here thinking he's frozen us to capture the warhead.  When he does, I'll distract him while you run out and get the jump on Shoji, okay?"

As I predicted, Todoroki strolls into the room, eyebrows furrowing when he sees the room is completely rid of ice.  "What-"

I don't give him chance to react as I blow orange flames directly at him.  He puts up an ice barrier in the nick of time, my quirk completely encompassing him in heat.  I nod for my teammate to hurry, and follows my orders, slipping through the door and bouncing out a window.

You're mine, jackass.  I rush at him through the flames, heart pumping fresh rage through my veins.  He raises his arm to shoot ice at me, but I jump up above him, propelling myself with flames from my left hand and shooting from my other one at him once I'm soaring near the back of his head.  Landing right behind, I swipe his legs before he can spot me, effective in tripping him to his knee.  I kick down, sending him onto his face with a groan.  Gotcha.

Unfortunately for me, his right arm finds my ankle, sending numbing ice up my leg.  "You can't win that easily," I grit out.  I step on his free left wrist, hearing the crack under my foot, and shoot another flame blast at the ice on my leg.  Ignoring his grunts of pain, I crouch down and pin his right hand behind his back.  "And that's checkmate, Todoroki-san."

"Alright, that's enough, Young (Y/n)!"  All Might yells out through the speakers.  "The villain team has captured the hero team!"

Smirking, I shove Todoroki aside and walk away without bothering to look at him again.  "So much for someone getting into UA on recommendations," I mutter to myself.

Once I'm out of the building, Ojiro raises an eyebrow at me.  "Where's Todoroki?"

I simply shrug.  "He'll be down in a little, I guess."

Turning back around, the jerk is exiting out of the building, nursing his left wrist against his chest.  I face away quickly, just a twinge of guilt invading my mind.

"Hey, (Y/n), I think he's hurt," Ojiro's calm voice points out.

I scowl at him.  "It's just his wrist, he'll be fine," I bark, stomping off to the rest of the class.  It's not fair that I feel guilty, he deserves it!

.

"You sure there's no beef between you and Todoroki?" Kirishima asks as he walks next to me at the end of the day.

"Fuck off, Shark-Teeth!"  I'm still in a bad mood.  It's just his wrist, come on!  "One trip to Recovery Girl and he was completely fine, I don't know why everyone's so bent out of shape about it!"

"Because you didn't even help him afterwards.  That's kinda not heroic, don't you think?"

I round on him, about to grab his shirt and blast him in the face, instead choosing to clench my fists.  "You don't know what 'mean' is!  Stay out of this!"  I walk away from him without looking back, mumbling to myself.  How can he say that about me not being heroic?  If he knew what Todoroki did, he would say the same thing.

On my way to the train station, I spot that familiar mop of bicolored hair staring at me with the same neutral gaze I hate.  Glancing down, I see his wrist is fine before quickly darting away.  Pompous jerk making me feel bad.

.

After that day, this idiot always had the audacity to stare at me.  I always feel his eyes on me, it's so annoying.  And he makes it so obvious, he doesn't even look away when I catch him, he just stares at me.  It's enough that Kirishima's words got to me, I don't need him confusing me with this staring contest we have going on.  If he wants to talk to me, he should do it already.

During the next few training sessions, we began sparring against each other with our quirks.  People have slowly been becoming scared of me during these times because of how rough I was.

Once, I got to fight Bakugou.  It was really fun going all out against someone who's just as aggressive.

This time, my opponent is the jerk himself.  When Aizawa announced the pairs, Kirishima was about to pull me aside, but saw my murderous look and chose he would like to live.  Everyone around us found their partners and started their individual training.  While the two of us stared at each other from across the mat.  I want to smash his emotionless pretty face in, I hate that I don't know what he's thinking!

If he's not gonna make the first move, I will.  I rush up to him, igniting the flames in my palms.  He's ready for me this time, standing his ground as I bound up and hunkering into a fighting stance.   I throw up a hand towards his face once I close in on him, ready to blow his face off.

Todoroki catches my hand by the wrist, bringing his right hand up to trap me in an ice coffin.  I slap that hand away and explode out a burst of orange flames, making him let go and stagger a few steps back.  He immediately sends a trail of ice down to secure my feet in place, but I respond by directing both my hands downward, propelling myself off the ground and towards him in a giant, sweeping leap.

The familiar weightlessness of being in the air fuels the adrenaline pumping through me.  He's my enemy, and I'm taking him down.

As I launch more continuous blasts at him while I soaring towards him, Todoroki coats his arm with ice to block his face.  But he's in for a surprise.  Moving close enough, I drop kick his arm down before landing a punch straight in his face.  My body lands on top of his torso, pinning him to the ground.  Winding back to land another punch on him, he suddenly launches his upper body upwards, headbutting me in the nose.

I let out a pained growl, reeling back as I feel the tingling of tears pooling in the corner of my eyes, and Todoroki uses this opportunity to flip us over so he's on top.  Placing his hand on my shoulder, I'm instantly plunged into an ice coffin under him.  Heaving out an icy breath, he slowly rises to his feet.  The puckered skin of his scar already starts swelling into a bruise where I punched him, and forehead cracked from where he headbutt my nose.

The anger boils my blood hot as my flames.  He's not winning over me!  I'm not letting that happen!  With a growling scream, heat floods from my iced palms before I'm broken free from my confines.  White and blue flames erupt from my hands, directing them straight up at Todoroki.  The ice barrier he puts up to protect himself melts faster than ice cream on a hot day against this new color of my fire.  It continuously flares out from me as I stand up, pointing right at him and getting closer.  I ball my fist up and throw my fire-coated fists at his forearms, the anger still building inside me.  I want him to yield before me already, so he can pay for his sin.

Even after my quirk blinks out, I continue punching at him, blinded by both rage and hot tears.  It wasn't until something wrapped around my arms and restrained me suspended slightly off the ground that I finally stop.

"I'm not putting you down until you're cooled down," Aizawa growls, his quirk and capture weapon smothering me.

Everyone was already staring at the scene.  Although I scowl, I go limp and show no signs of resistance.  When my body finally relaxes, I feel a sharp pain shooting up my hands and forearm.  Once I'm free, I inspect my hands, noticing the beginning blisters of burns coating everything from my fingertips to my elbows.  Ouch.  My fire's never done that before.  It's probably those flames I used.  The dull pain in my nose starts throbbing.

"Both of you took this training a little too seriously," our teacher glowers at us.  "I'll deal your punishment later.  Can I trust that you won't kill each other going to see Recovery Girl?"

"Yes sir," we both mutter out.

.

The walk over there was quiet.  I trudged ahead because I didn't want to see his face, but I had to feel his gaze bore into my skull again.  After a good scolding from Recovery Girl, we were told to rest for a little while in the office before going back to class.  I try to lie back and ignore him, indulging myself in quiet.  I was so full of emotion that my flames turned hotter than they have before, but I have to use them sparingly since they can burn my normally fire-resistant skin.  I'll have to make some adjustments to my hero costume gloves too.

"Do you have a person vendetta against me or something?"

Even just the sound of his blank voice makes me roll my eyes.  "Hm, I wonder what could've given you that crazy idea."

Todoroki rolls up to a sitting position and faces me.  Just like mine, his arms are wrapped in bandages.  Apparently, because I punched him with my white-blue fire, he has some burns too, though not as severe as my own.  He peers at me from one grey eye, the other one covered by a bag of ice he nestles against his new bruise.  "I'd like to know why."

I clench my fists weakly against the pain.  "I really don't feel like burning this office to a crisp right now, so we shouldn't talk about it."

"I think it's only fair when someone's holding a grudge against another, both parties should be clear on what the grudge entails."

Stupid logical idiot.  "Fine."  I sit myself up with a little more difficulty and flash him a harsh glare.  "When we were in Junior High, you pushed me away when I tried to be friendly with you.  I know you remember how weak I was and how much everyone else teased me because I said I want to be a top hero, like your dad.  You were cold to me that way, but that's not the only reason I hate you.  These girls in our class didn't like that I was getting close to you, so they started teasing me, harassing me, and beat me up."  I pivot my entire body towards him as I hiss my next words, "And you watched them without interfering.  You let a victim get bullied and you did nothing.  Someone who wants to be a hero and save people, and got into this school on a recommendation, can't even be bothered to be a hero to his classmates when they're being bullied."  Shaking my head, I add, "You disgust me.  You're no hero, you're just an extremely powerful pompous asshole.  You make me sick."

Todoroki's entire demeanor changes.  Instead of the cold expression he always displays, his eyebrows relax out of their furrowed position.  He looks down at his wrapped arms.  "I...didn't think at the time.  Yes, I saw it happen.  Frankly, I was disgusted by you having a similar quirk as my father and wanting to be a hero after him."  His left hand clenches.  "That power repulses me, which is why I never use it in combat.  Watching you go through all that, I rationalized to myself that you were strong enough to take it."

His fist relaxes and he bows his head somberly.  "I know it's no excuse for what I did, I apologize for that.  I take full responsibility for your hatred."

I'm quiet, kind of stunned.  I've sometimes imagined Todoroki apologizing to me, but seeing it happen is somehow surreal.  Rubbing the back of my head, I admit, "Well, I have to say that it's partially because of you that I was spurred to start training and become as I am now.  So thank you, I guess."  And although I really don't want to, I also say, "I'm sorry I broke your wrist in training last week.  And burned you today.  And almost tried to kill you in general.  It was all overboard and I've been a huge jerk about this whole thing."

He offers a nod.  "I believe it's safe to say our differences have been settled, then.  I hope we can patch things up and become better classmates now that this is all behind us."

Without looking at him, I hold out my fist between our beds.  When he takes too long, I roll my eyes.  "It's a fist bump, it's what f-friends do."

I sense his eyes dart between my definitely tinted cheeks and my fist, before his fingers daintily close over it.  "I'd rather do this, if you don't mind."

Peeking over at him, I open my hand, allowing him to gently clasp my hand between his fingers and his palm.  A new sense of warmth washes over me when I look into his eyes.  Though his features are as non-emotive as ever, his relaxed, mismatching orbs rest on me in what I can only place as support or respect.

"You're strong, (Y/n), and although my previous unfair actions towards you are what primarily coaxed it out, I know you already were in your mind and heart.  I look forward to seeing it as we both progress to becoming heroes together."

His slight softening shifts something within both of us.  And that moment told me that our new relationship would evolve into something greater.