#blonde just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing gays

[p4nishers]

someone has to say it stede never looked better than he does in the s2 teaser rip to ed but im built different i would take him back without hesitation

[citizen-sade]

A Hand to Your Darkness (4326 words) by HalloweenJack7 Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Power Play, Power Imbalance, Light Masochism, Switch Crowley (Good Omens), Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Crowley is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Crowley is a Tease (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Shameless Smut, Fluff and Smut, Top Crowley/Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale/Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens) Summary: Inspired by and partly directly taken from that scene in episode 5 ("Giants") of Season 2 of Masters of Sex with Michael Sheen. The rest is just... ineffable horny brainrot and smut. Enjoy.

The angel tracked Crowley warily out of the corner of his periphery as the demon moved to pour himself a scotch. Aziraphale sat on the edge of the couch to remove his shoes, contemplating his friend’s particularly restless behavior throughout the evening. The serpent sidled over and dropped like a lead weight into the overstuffed armchair opposite him, throwing one leg over the side. He observed Aziraphale silently from behind the dark shades, taking in the dashing angel. The new three-piece Aziraphale had commissioned specifically for Maggie and Nina’s engagement party was quite becoming on him. Shame he had other plans for it. 

The ice shifting and clattering against the glass tumbler wall was grating in the silence. Aziraphale paused, his eyes flitting from the demon’s face, to his crotch, to his face again and back to his shoes as he slipped the second one off. He felt his cheeks redden at the memory of their brief but risqué encounter in the pub loo earlier that evening—Crowley’s fingers prying open the collar of his shirt, his lips on his neck, his lean body pinning him against the door. And now… this. His brow furrowed and he glanced up to clear his throat as an unsettling tension stretched between them.

"Um, aren't you going to... get comfortable...?" Aziraphale inquired, smiling curiously.

"No."

He blinked, unnerved by the nearly imperceptible shift in the serpent's demeanor, "Because...?"

"I don't want to.”

Aziraphale nodded slowly, not at all grasping the situation as his mouth formed a perplexed Oh… "So, what do we—?"

"I want you to strip."

The angel cast wide eyes upon his friend with an incredulous chuckle that quickly tapered off into mortified silence when Crowley removed his sunglasses to reveal just how serious he was. 

The cold, razor-edged gleam in the slitted golden eyes left little room for discussion. Crowley could see the wheels turning in Aziraphale’s head, fearing he might discorporate if he thought too hard about it. Somewhat to Crowley’s surprise, however; Aziraphale rose, slow and resolute. He took a steadying breath to calm his nerves and shrugged the jacket from his shoulders, draping it gingerly over the far arm of the couch before sliding the tartan bow tie from around his neck.

His limbs felt heavy; moving of their own accord in opposition to every synapse in his body screaming in protest against this outrageous power play—and moreover, that he was going along with it. 

He untucked the crisp ivory shirt and hesitantly began unfastening each button; making slow, tantalizing work of it, as far as Crowley was concerned. He laid the shirt aside and, down to the final article of clothing on his upper body, unwittingly pivoted away from Crowley to remove it. This earned him a soft, guttural sound of admonishment that made him shudder. He closed his eyes briefly and turned back, grasping the neckline of his undershirt to pull it over his head, discarding both garments in much the same fashion as the jacket. He sighed and raked a hand through his white-blonde curls before turning to sit on the edge of the couch.

"No,” the demon clipped abruptly, sending a mild shockwave of apprehension through him, “Stand."

Aziraphale clenched his jaw, reining in his increasing consternation before doing as he was told. He drew himself back up to his full height, sparing a fleeting glance in Crowley’s direction—and the serpent was quick to note the lack of direct eye contact—as if expecting him to burst into a fit of laughter and declare this cruel joke a riotous success at his expense.

What occurred instead was enough to leech the color from Aziraphale’s face. 

"Now you're going to touch yourself,” Crowley drawled as he took a sip of the dark amber liquid, as matter-of-fact and innocuous as discussing the weather. 

He felt his blood run cold, and he stared at the being opposite him. Ha ha. You got me. You win. Enough. The only answer to his unspoken plea was the downward tilt of Crowley's chin, those eyes regarding him from beneath dark lashes, encouraging, yet vaguely menacing.  

"Begin." 

He inhaled as though to speak but immediately expelled the breath in a quiet huff and glanced with trepidation to his waistband. The demon’s icy countenance all but wavered when Aziraphale unfastened and dropped his trousers to the floor. Crowley’s brow visibly twitched when he realized that, despite the endearing pretense of righteous indignation, the angel was already half hard. 

Aziraphale shifted his weight nervously. Crowley watched the muscles in his neck work as the lump in his throat bobbed on a thick swallow and a trembling hand reached for his cock. His breath hitched at the friction, paired with the sensation of that burning gaze on him as he stroked himself to full attention. 

"You've closed your eyes,” the serpent mused, head tipped to one side with a lazy half-smile that Aziraphale could hear in his voice, “is that standard behavior for you?"

"I... um...” he stuttered uneasily, not having anticipated a quiz. He felt like the subject of a social experiment, “I believe it is...”

"Is that to... facilitate fantasy?" 

Aziraphale cleared his throat, "It's an automatic reflex, not a... conscious process—” he gasped, swallowing a groan and swaying slightly, “but, uh—yes, I suppose so."

Crowley grinned at the angel's stubborn refusal to give him the satisfaction of hearing his obvious pleasure. Although, to say he wasn’t intrigued by the idea of watching Aziraphale slowly come apart before him would be a vicious lie. He sipped from his glass as he looked the angel up and down, tracking each micro expression, the subtle part of his lips on a soft, breathy moan. Crowley admired the physique Aziraphale so often kept concealed beneath layers of various lush fabrics that made him appear more portly than he really was. He contemplated how it might feel to have the Guardian of the Eastern Gate writhing beneath him; on top of him... He adjusted himself, lightheaded and almost giddy at how easy it was to coax the angel into submission.

"And what are you thinking about?" he asked patiently.

The seemingly innocent question that was anything but embedded in his side like a barb, and a small flame of rebellion flared to life in his belly. Aziraphale straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. The nervous grip he’d had on himself visibly tightened, earning a raised eyebrow, and he opened dazzling, crystalline eyes to fix them on the smug demon with a renewed confidence.

"You." 

Crowley froze. His heart stuttered and his groin tightened. He clumsily set his glass down, making a conscious effort not to choke on the burn of the liquor as it clawed its way down his esophagus.

"You can stop touching yourself,” he said in a far more strained voice than intended.

"But I haven't—yet—" Aziraphale stammered.

"Stop.”

Aziraphale's hand slowed to a halt. He looked at the demon with mounting panic, his mind reeling with fear, confusion, relief and disappointment. The impenetrable eyes narrowed as they searched the angel's face for a maddening stretch of time before Crowley shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of his chair to propel himself to his feet. He stepped forward with purpose and planted both feet shoulder-width apart.

"Come here.”

Aziraphale warily closed the gap between them and laid his hands on either side of his neck. Some part of him wanted to strangle the insufferable being, to wrap his fingers around Crowley's throat and squeeze, to savor the fear and confusion in his eyes that would undoubtedly match his own; but his fingers caressed his jaw and the nape of his neck instead. The corner of Crowley's mouth twitched into a wry, almost knowing smirk and he reached up to cover the angel’s hands with his own, slowly and deliberately guiding them down his torso. Aziraphale swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of the firmness of Crowley's chest beneath the thin black turtleneck, until his hands came to rest upon the waistband of Crowley’s trousers. 

"Take them off,” the demon ordered with a hint of venom.

Aziraphale's eyes widened, and he glanced down to where his hands hovered, his attention lingering on the considerable bulge in Crowley’s pants just beyond the jeweled snakehead belt buckle. Did he truly have a similar effect on Crowley as the cunning serpent did on him? His heart bucked in his ribcage. Emboldened, he tipped his chin up to lock eyes with Crowley in a gesture of subtle defiance as he proceeded to undo the belt, unfastening the top button and yanking the zipper down. 

There was an unspoken challenge in the smug arch of Crowley’s eyebrow as Aziraphale slid the tight pants over his slender hips, albeit with some effort. 

His gaze remained on Crowley's face even as the demon's erection prodded at his thigh, meeting his air of superiority with a rare display of divine hubris. Something salacious flashed in Crowley’s eyes that sent a bolt of arousal crackling down Aziraphale’s spine. When Crowley raised a hand to his shoulder and pushed gently, he kneeled without hesitation. 

In a moment of lucidity, it occurred to him that he had never really looked at Crowley. He was dark and handsome, no doubt, but Aziraphale had never taken (re: had) the time to fully appreciate the tall, lean corporation that the demon had chosen to display to the world. It was beautiful, slender like a girl, but chiseled and rigid in an unmistakably masculine way. He marveled at the shapes of Crowley’s sinewy thighs and calves, recalling his first glimpse of the statue of David. He breathed in the mingling scents of leather and wood smoke as Crowley cocked his head curiously above him.

He kissed the pale skin of Crowley’s inner thigh and palmed his testicles, taking a keen pleasure in the low hiss he elicited. Aziraphale would never have expected anyone, much less a being as beautiful as the Serpent of Eden, reacting in such a carnal manner to his touch. It was wrong, it was profane; it was—exhilarating.

Crowley groaned and rocked slightly when Aziraphale braced himself on his thighs and took him into his mouth. The demon tipped his head back, exposing his throat with a ragged sigh. Aziraphale felt his abandoned erection pulsate at the obscene noises he dragged from him.

“If I didn’t—know better,” the demon snarled, “I’d think you’ve done this b—before…”

Aziraphale hummed at the praise, the vibrations from his throat prompting a strangled cry. 

“Fuck , Angel,” Crowley groaned, and something downright pagan uncoiled in Aziraphale. All at once he stood and seized Crowley by his scarlet hair, wrenching his head back.

“Say it again,” sounded the deep, resonating command. Crowley’s knees nearly buckled under the intensity of that voice. It was no longer the voice of the humble and mild-mannered shopkeeper that spent the majority of the evening weeping between samples of wedding cake, but the dangerous, leaden voice of the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. And it wasn’t a request.

“Angel …” the serpent hissed in a trembling breath.

There was a fundamental shift between them. Aziraphale felt it like a switch that had been flipped in the recesses of his very being; almost as palpable as a rip in the time-space continuum; something that felt altogether… right. It dawned on him that Crowley wasn’t struggling. Curious, he raised his free hand to the demon’s graceful neck, caressing the ashy column of his throat, and then wrapped his fingers around it. He applied careful, calculated pressure to the sides of Crowley’s windpipe and watched with a sense of sadistic pride as the amber eyes rolled back in their sockets. He released the fistful of hair and slid an arm around the slender waist as clawed fingers grabbed hold of the angel’s forearm but made no attempt to remove the hand on his neck.

They locked eyes with a sudden, glaring mutual awareness that there was no coming back from… whatever this was. Aziraphale’s hand moved to the nape of Crowley’s neck to cradle the base of his skull, pulling his mouth to his as the arm around Crowley’s waist drew his body flush against him. They moaned against one another’s lips as their straining cocks slid together. The lean figure in his embrace undulated weakly against him. Crowley clawed at him, desperate to get closer, breaking the kiss to grasp the angel’s jaw and pivot his head to the side to gain access to his neck. The forked tongue trailed up his throat, pulling dizzying gasps from Aziraphale, who slid a hand over Crowley’s shoulder, down a protruding shoulder blade and along the curve of his back to squeeze his ass, holding his hips in place as he proceeded to grind against him. 

The demon choked back a sob, his head spinning. Aziraphale uttered a hoarse groan against his ear and turned to fling Crowley onto the couch. He bounced as he landed on the cushions and blinked up at the high ceiling. He looked to Aziraphale as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. The angel heaved a deep, steadying breath as he admired the long, pale body, laid out like a veritable feast for him. Crowley threw a forearm behind his head and stretched like a cat across the cushions, his spine gently curved. It was a view so enticing it hurt.

“Oh, Crowley…”

He cracked an eyelid at the soft, dreamy voice. His heart hammered in his ribcage at the sight of Aziraphale hovering above him, fully exposed and, frankly, imposing as fuck. If he wasn’t already hard, he certainly would have been in that moment. He tipped his head coquettishly and extended his free arm out to him. The angel swiftly moved to sit on the edge of the couch at his side, leaning over to trail a knuckle along the demon’s sharp jaw line. Crowley grabbed his wrist; eyes clouded with lust fixed on his face as he touched the tip of his tongue to the pad of Aziraphale’s forefinger and then took the digit between his lips up to the second knuckle. Aziraphale moistened his lips as the yellow gaze fluttered closed, a small moan vibrating the tip of his finger.

“You are a wicked thing,” the deep, coarse voice droned, thick and ravenous.

The serpent chuckled breathlessly and released his finger, opening his eyes only slightly to regard Aziraphale from beneath his long, dark lashes in that uniquely sinful way of his.

“What do you intend to do about it, Angel?” he drawled, again taking Aziraphale’s hand in his.

Aziraphale straightened as Crowley first guided his hand to his throat. He squeezed gently, throbbing at the demon’s broken whimper. It was a sound he was happy to get used to. Crowley’s tongue ran along the edge of his pointed, needle-like teeth as he then slid the angel’s hand down his naked chest and over the smooth plane of his torso, entrancing Aziraphale with how his body rippled in the wake of his touch. He allowed the beguiling creature to guide his hand to his stomach but caught him by the wrist before moving further. He noted the lewd pout he received in response and answered it with a sly smirk of his own.

“Naughty demons don’t just get what they want that easily,” he chided, trailing his fingers along the inside of Crowley’s thigh just to watch him squirm, “They have to ask nicely.”

“Ah—” Crowley gasped, growling in frustration, “We’ve been—over this… I am not nice.”

Aziraphale chuckled darkly, “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You look very nice to me…” The demon nearly leapt off the cushions crotch-first when he cupped his scrotum to roll his testicles between his fingers.

Crowley groaned sharply, one hand gripping the back of the couch. He writhed as the angel continued to tease him, his hips straining towards Aziraphale’s touch. Crowley hadn’t realized how starved he was for the smallest hint of affection until he felt he might discorporate at any moment from the stimulation alone.

“What’s the matter, my dear?” the angel cooed with a mocking edge, “Surely you haven’t become shy all of a sudden?”  

“God—Angel,” he whined, snarling in desperation, “just touch me.”

Aziraphale immediately withdrew his hand altogether and stood as if to leave. The feverish yellow eyes flew open, and Crowley sat up to grasp at the angel’s arm, “PLEASE!”

He stopped, concealing his smirk before addressing Crowley over his shoulder, “Please what?”

“Aziraphale…” the demon sighed, hanging his head to add in a despairing voice, “I need this. I need you.”  

His heart lurched and he turned to resume his seat. He reverently took Crowley’s face in his hands and pressed his lips to his. Crowley whimpered against his mouth and parted Aziraphale’s lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss, inhaling sharply through his nose. 

“Now, now… there’s no need to get excited,” he smiled despite the ache in his chest and reached back to lightly grasp the demon’s twitching member, delighting in Crowley’s sigh of relief, “You see…” he continued, gently stroking the shaft, “I know what you need.”

“Mmm, harder,” Crowley whimpered, thrusting into the angel’s fist in his search for friction.

Aziraphale snorted softly and squeezed his cock for emphasis, “I will decide when you deserve harder. Understand?”  

“Ah! Okay, okay!” he hissed impatiently, lying back and clutching convulsively at the cushions beneath him.

The angel eyed him intently; the shallow, rapid rise and fall of his chest, his clenched jaw, clawed fingers grasping for purchase. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sight of Crowley’s beautiful body twisting in his grasp before he generously tightened his grip. Crowley went rigid and his breathing grew ragged with need.  

His free hand caressed Crowley’s side and he slid it over his chest to splay his fingers over his frantic heart. The organ thudded against his palm and he leaned down to press his lips to the valley between Crowley’s pectoral muscles. He maintained firm, unwavering strokes as he kissed his way to Crowley’s collarbone, then his neck, fixing his lips over the fluttering pulse and sucking gently.  The serpent arched against him.

“Nghhh… Angel …” the haunted voice moaned. Aziraphale withdrew to catch his own breath as his groin pulsated.

“Yes, love?”

Crowley’s breath hitched and he threw an arm around Aziraphale’s neck, propping himself up on the other to crush their mouths together. His hips bucked in tandem with Aziraphale’s strokes, and he whimpered against his lips.

“Fuck —” he breathed, the sheer vulgarity of the word making Aziraphale’s head swim with arousal as he pumped him faster.

Crowley hissed through gritted teeth and suddenly placed a quivering hand on the angel’s wrist.

“No,” he wheezed, gasping for breath, “Wait—Please—“

“What is it?” he inquired urgently, smoothing damp strands of hair from his forehead, “Use your words, darling.” 

“I—” Crowley gasped when Aziraphale licked at the shell of his ear and he pulled back to look into the angel’s eyes.

“Sin for me, Angel.”

Aziraphale blinked and sat upright, “What—?”

Crowley cupped the angel’s face in both hands, pitching his voice to a soft, fervent plea, “Make love to me.”

Aziraphale’s jade-green eyes darted between the golden, reptilian ones. Crowley waited, hopeful but apprehensive, as if his entire sense of purpose teetered upon the pinhead of Aziraphale’s acceptance—of his body, his mind, of what soul he had left; of him . 

“Crowley—I,” he stuttered, placing a soothing hand on his neck when he saw the serpent’s brow twitch anxiously, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Angel,” he answered solemnly, tacking on a hint of his familiar humor, “I mean… if you are.”

Aziraphale swiftly moved to straddle the trembling demon and sat back on his thighs to wrap his fingers around both of their eager cocks, stroking them as one. Crowley's spine twisted as the motion wrested one long, ragged groan from his throat.

“Zira—Ziraphale—” Crowley panted mindlessly, “I can’t—”

The angel snickered quietly, “Can’t what, dear? Can’t wait any longer?” he teased, miracling a small ornate bottle on the side table. Crowley writhed beneath him as he methodically prepared him, giving his impatient cock the occasional courtesy stroke.

“Ready, my darling?”

“M’ready,” Crowley replied hazily, readjusting as Aziraphale positioned himself at the serpent’s entrance. Crowley’s mouth opened on a pained gasp as the angel slowly sunk into him, groaning with the effort of keeping himself together.

“Crowley?” he rasped, raising a hand to his face, “Are you alright, love?”

“Nngh… Mhm…” 

Aziraphale shifted, causing Crowley to shudder and clench around him, which in turn drew a tremulous breath from the angel. He took the serpent by the chin, “Look at me, Crowley.”

He opened his eyes, fixing Aziraphale with a stormy gaze. When he began to move inside him, Crowley uttered a shattered, helpless moan and buried his face in the angel’s neck.

After allowing a moment of adjustment, Aziraphale’s fingers slid up into the ginger tresses and clenched into a fist, tugging his face away from his neck as he gently rocked against him. He wrenched the demon’s head back to taste his slender throat.  

The demon hooked a leg around the angel’s waist. Aziraphale closed his eyes, relishing in the notion of their corporations fitting together like lost puzzle pieces. He struggled to hear the serpent's deliciously anguished noises over the blood rushing in his ears and slid an arm beneath his slender waist to hold him up to better accommodate the slow, sensual rhythm of his hips. Crowley uttered a series of sharp cries as the angel’s cock repeatedly hit a spot that made flowers of dark matter blossom at the edges of his peripheral.

"Yes, my dear,” the angel breathed, “just like that." 

His stomach clenched with desire even as he felt the warmth of Heaven’s light slipping away, eclipsed by a very different kind of warmth, dark and wicked and unfurling towards him like a great black plume of smoke. Hellfire.

Principalities be damned. 

"Angel, can I—" Crowley swallowed, his words snagging in his throat as he reached for his throbbing erection but stopped short. Aziraphale smiled.

"Of course, dear boy," he cooed, "you may touch yourself." 

Crowley flinched at the grounding sensation of wrapping his hand around his own cock. He groaned through clenched teeth with each stroke in time with the angel’s thrusts.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly as Crowley’s moans became higher pitched and broken. He clocked the indicative tightening of his groin and batted the serpent's hand away to resume pumping him himself. 

"Crowley," the angel moaned against his lips, his hand sliding to the back of his head, compulsively winding in the ginger hair. 

"Angel," the demon responded huskily, prepared to acquiesce to any request; carry out any order.

"Say my name, Crowley," Aziraphale sighed as he drove into him, as though it were his last request on this plane, "please." 

Crowley whimpered and shuddered against him, gripping his shoulder with nails much sharper than Aziraphale recalled.

"Aziraphale," the raw, ethereal voice hissed, hot against his face, although he wasn't sure he'd actually heard it with his ears so much as the word crackled down his spine to coalesce in a dizzying electrical shock to his groin. 

"Aziraphale," the demon moaned again, dragging his claws over Aziraphale’s back, wantonly riding him from beneath, not so much chasing his oblivion as rigorously hunting it down.

Tears streamed from the outer corners of the angel's eyes as the undulations of Crowley's hips became increasingly frenzied, his fist tightening on the serpent's cock and his own movements growing sharp and desperate.

"My darling," he groaned, releasing the throbbing phallus to lift Crowley into his arms until he was virtually sitting in his lap, impaling him over and over until the demon let out an unearthly, animalistic howl, dragging the angel over the edge with him. Aziraphale cried out and gave a final, powerful snap of his hips as the slender figure fell back to the cushions, his chest heaving.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly and, panting, wrapped his arms around Crowley with a sense of possessiveness that, frankly, alarmed him. He wasn't sure what would happen if/when either side found out about their union, but he swore then and there that he would do whatever it took to keep Crowley out of harm's way.

"Mmm..." the serpent hummed weakly. Aziraphale blinked, passing a hand over Crowley’s chest, his translucent skin shimmering with a thin sheen of moisture.

"I love you." 

Crowley barely registered the soft exhalation. Hell, he could have dreamt it for all he knew, but—had he? He jerked back to consciousness, head reeling when he sat up too quickly and hissed, reminded of the angel's twitching cock still nestled inside him. He clenched his eyes tightly against the onslaught of sensations. 

The angel smiled through his blurred vision and caressed the demon's face. Crowley relaxed and opened his eyes to look at Aziraphale, his brow furrowing with worry as he placed a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder, "What's wrong, Angel?" 

"I love you," Aziraphale repeated through quivering lips, shrugging helplessly, failing to keep the trembling note out of his voice.

"Er, um—hold that thought." 

He carefully disengaged from Aziraphale with a strangled gasp, sliding out of his lap, and shifted to sit next to him on the couch, drawing his legs up to the side. When he was settled, the angel turned to lie down and rest his head in Crowley's lap as the demon bent to kiss his tears away. 

He raked his fingers through the angel's fair curls, "You're gonna give me a complex." He hooked a finger beneath Aziraphale's chin to gently pivot the angel's head towards him, "Can I tell you a secret, Angel?" he purred, pitching his voice to a sly, covert volume, "I love you, too."

[captainlevisteacup]

All Characters, the Nicknames MC has For Them, and the Events That Follow: A Wholly Unnecessary Thread

Warnings: None, unless you count demon boys being butthurt about being called out

Enjoy my stupidity!

Lucifer👿🖤🥀☕🍷

Luci

Pridey Pants

Gordon Ramsey of Life

Mom

Loosen-up Luci

Jesus's emo brother

*cough* Daddy *cough*

The results of these nicknames....they were not pretty. MC calls him Luci? He doesn't LOVE it. Does that small scary smile that MC knows (or should know) not to push.

Pridey pants...ohhh boy. MC says it at dinner....is absolutely terrified when he doesnt do anything. After dinner, follows MC into the hallway to dole out *ahem* punishment

Beel is the only one to understand the Gordon Ramsey one. Starts booming laughter

Mom. Oho. This is the second worst. Happened when MC asked Luci to pass them a steak knife. Ended up with the knife being thrown into the table, inches from MC's hand.

Ah. The worst one. Jesus's emo brother. He doesnt even know where to begin. The brothers AND Diavolo have to SPRINT away to keep from cackling like crazed lunatics. Simeon is the only one who openly laughs. Kitchen duty for 2 months. Absolutely worth it. Would do it again without hesitation.

Mammon💛💵💰💳

Mammory Gland

Finding Nemo Seagull (Mine! Mine!)

Crow

Tan Elsa

Greedo

General Greedous

"Ehhhhh? What's a mammary gland?"

*muffled Satan laughter*

Mc has to explain the crow one, because apparently it isnt common knowledge that crows love shiny things?

Tan Elsa. Levi was crying when this one slipped out of MC's mouth. All Mammon could do was be offended. After much, MUCH coaxing, reluctantly agreed to dance to "Let it Go" in a dress.

Levi💜🐍🎮🕹

Has a thing for degradation, so you can really only insult him with anime stuff

Levi Heichou (if you get this, we can be friends)

Leviathan the lonely

Snake man

Mermaid Boy

Snekky snek

Levia-hand

He could ignore all of them.....except for

LEVIA-HAND

I mean come on!

"MC did you really have to go there? That was really-"

"Below the belt?"

"UGH MCCCCC"

*distant suggestive Asmo noises*

Satan💚💢📚

Angry bean

Grumpy kitty

Nerd

Angry librarian

Blond, angsty James Charles

Fashion disaster

There isn't a single one of these that DOESNT make Satan want to break something.

Who is James Charles? Fashion disaster?! "I happen to dress very nicely, thank you very much"

"How am I a librarian? I just read, it's very different, honestly MC"

Refuses to even acknowledge "grumpy kitty"

Asmodeus😘💋❤💅

Asmo-dick-us

Ass-mo

Momo

Polly Pocket

The kinky one

*jokingly* slutttttt

He, surprisingly, doesn't mind any of them. He thinks it's really cute that MC has nicknames for him. He always encourages you to call him them more often, and even makes a bunch of them for MC. His favorite one is Momo, because:

"Its just so cuuuuuuute!"

Beel🥺🍔💪🏻

Sexy Vacuum man

The last Weasley

Snack Buddy

Hungry Bean

Un-beel-eavable

These all make the boy SO HAPPY

MC cares enough to make nicknames for him?

*happy Beel noises*

Wait. MC thinks he's sexy?😳

What's a Weasley?

He has a snack buddy?☺☺☺

Belphie🙁💭💤🛏

Sloth man

Sleepyhead

That bastard with a choking kink

Killer grip

The emo twin

Black Sheep

"I woke up like this" master

He wants to be mad. He really does. But there's a problem: he can't argue with ANY of them. Kinda makes him smile just a LITTLE

Is glad MC has forgiven him enough to actually JOKE about the choking incident.

Spends a lot of time trying to get someone to explain what "emo" means. Levi knows what it means, and refuses to tell him because he thinks its funnily accurate

Dia👑💮🔥

Double D Dia

Big Tiddy Divvy

King of the Boobs

Díablo

Milk man

Firehead

The rich, gay uncle

There isnt a single minute he doesn't find these hysterical. He thinks it's a charming human world custom, to give someone a nickname. He also thinks it shows how comfortable with him MC is.

His favorite is easily DD Dia. Mc noticed his body? *smirk* interesting

Why are so many of them boob related? MC does realize he is a male, right?

The rich, gay uncle. Diavolo has no words. Absolutely shook.

Lucifer overheard some of these...was appalled MC was harassing the PRINCE with their ridiculous nicknames.

He was about to go off on a terrified MC, when Diavolo stepped in laughing and told Lucifer....

"Calm down, Mom."

Mc nearly choked on their own suppressed laughter

Barbatos had to quickly usher them away so MC could openly laugh and therefore breathe

Barbatos 🧐👀🐀🕓

Barbie

Simply one hell of a butler

Sebas-chan

Time warp man

Chuck E Cheese

The cake maker

Understands every single reference, is actually surprisingly cool with it, as long as MC doesn't embarrass him with it.

Diavolo catches wind of what MC is calling Barbaties, eventually starts adopting the nicknames

The only one Barbatos doesn't like is "Chuck E Cheese", because he hates rats so so much. How dare they compare him to one of those disgusting creatures?

Simeon🌙🤍🌹🌈

Boomer

Dad joke central

Beautiful man

Sinful shoulders

Angel Dad

Sin-ammon Roll

Simeon can't decide between being flattered or appalled. He's not THAT old. Nor is he a father! Well, maybe more of a father figure in regards to Luke, but still! He doesn't tell THAT many dad jokes.. right?

Blushes intensely at Beautiful man and Sinammon roll. Wonders if MC really means that or is just teasing him.

Eventually he makes the stupid decision to ask Asmo....wrong move. Asmo ends up laying out all of Simeon's desires towards MC, the week following he can't even look MC in the face. MC has no clue what happened and starts to think it was their fault.

They confront Simeon about it after a while, and Simeon full on breaks and confesses to MC

Asmo takes full credit for this happening

Solomon😑🖤💫🧙🏻‍♂️

Shady Lady

The sus one

Kinky dude

Draco malfoy

Doesn't mind MC having insulting nicknames for him....he has them too. Starts swapping them with MC to see who can make the other laugh harder.

Sometimes, the brothers will sit in and listen while they exchange them, and they'll keep score and vote on who wins

Eventually, Diavolo and Simeon get involved

Barbatos caters these events

Luke😇👶🏼🌸🧁

Baby angel

Son

Woof

Puppy

Little doggo

The poor boy has no idea which one he hates more. Gets so flustered whenever MC calls him one of these that his whole face turns red

Simeon tells him its adorable every time without fail

This makes Luke even worse. All MC has to do is call Luke one of the names and its fair game for Luke hunting

The only one he actually...kind of...likes is Son. He likes the idea of MC as a parent figure.

Which leads him to realize: what if MC and Simeon got together! Then MC WOULD be his parent

Gets Solomon and Barbatos to help bring MC and Simeon together

They end up bombarding the two with an obnoxious Valentine's day-esque cake

Did it work?

[chillpills320]

Hard || Corbyn Besson

Summary : kinda based on wdw’s hard (if you haven’t heard the song yet it’s basically Corbyn likes his best friend, but she’s oblivious and is in a relationship, and one day her boyfriend hurts her so she goes to Corbyn for comfort)

Warnings : slight hint of sexual abuse, but other than that it’s just some Corbyn fluff

Word Count : 1.9k

A/n : Yeah so I really like their song hard, I think it’s nice to have someone who got your back, and gives you a shoulder to cry on, plus I’m a new limelight, so I’m like writing this and waiting for their comeback,,,,

Also this kinda involves their cover of Adele’s make you feel my love, because I went to heaven after I heard their cover, and you should really hear it if you haven’t

~~~

November 25th (as you all know) is Corbyn’s birthday.

He was your best friend, and of course you wanted to be the first ever person to wish him happy birthday, so you called him at 11:57pm the night before even though you were dead tired.

“Heyyy Corbone,” you said to the phone when he picked up at the third ring.

“What’s up y/n? Wait.. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed now?” Corbyn asked, he knew that you take part-time jobs at a nearby cafe after school to support your college fees and he knew how exhausted you probably were.

“Whatttt, and miss being the first person to wish you a happy birthday? No thanks,” You teased.

“Really? Aww,” the boy answered, a bit flustered. You could literally hear his smile over the phone.

You chuckled, and you talk about the most random of things until the clock ticked 12:00.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” You practically screamed to the phone. “You’re 20 now, you dork. Go get a girl or something, don‘t wait till you’re too old for crushes,” you egged him on.

You’ve known Corbyn for your whole life, but have never seen him date any girl. You were the one close friend of him who is a girl, and you were honestly worried about his sexuality as he has not shown any interest to any other girls OR guys, which u concluded after (half) stalking him on the campus, wondering if he was gay, which is honestly super fine if he was, but yeah.

“You say that every yearrr,” Corbyn complained.

“Wait I still haven’t got your birthday present because I don’t know what you want, so just tell me if there’s anything on you wishlist?” you asked.

“Oh, sure thanks,” the blonde boy replied.

“Wait, um do you want to hang out tomorrow?” He continued, crossing his fingers wishing that you’d say yes.

You, on the other hand, oblivious to Corbyn’s wish, rejected politely because you promised that you would spend more time with your boyfriend.

“Sorry Corbs,” you shrugged into the phone. “Right, gotta sleep. See you tomorrow, birthday boy,” you said and hung up.

Corbyn’s heart panged with bitter sweetness. He was touched that you called him to be the first person to wish him a happy birthday, but he also knows that that would probably be the last time he will see you on his birthday, since you two don’t exactly have the same friend group.

You used to hang around with Corbyn a lot, just the two of you, but soon your boyfriend appeared and you had to spend time with your boyfriend too. Plus, college caught up and you were both too busy to spend time with each other.

It wasn’t that Corbyn’s not interested in girls, it’s just that he has fallen for his best friend, who was oblivious to his feelings AND not available. All Corbyn’s ever wanted for his birthday present is you, but who could get him that present?

~~~

The next day, Corbyn hung out with Jonah and Jack. He wasn’t exactly popular in school, unlike the social butterfly you were, making friends here and there.

Right now you were seated at the middle of the cafeteria with a table of friends, your boyfriend’s arm wrapped around your figure. A friend of yours shared something and made you laugh.

“Hey, have you told her yet?” Jonah asked, snapping Corbyn out of his trance.

“W-What?” Corbyn asked.

Jack sighed. “Of course it’s a solid no, or else why wouldn’t y/n be sitting here with him.”

Corbyn blushed at the mention of your name.

“Ugh, I’m just sick of Corbyn always staring at y/n while she doesn’t even notice,” Jonah groaned. “She’s your best friend. How could she be so oblivious?”

“I mean... she has a boyfriend,” Corbyn said, defending you, though his heart sinked a little at the mention of the champion who won your heart.

Jack shook his head in sympathy.

“Hey cheer up, it’s your birthday afterall,” Jonah said, lightening up the mood. “You wanna go to the arcade after school?”

At the mention of Corbyn’s favorite place on Earth, his eyes lit up.

“Sure!” Corbyn replied enthusiastically.

~~~

After spending the whole day at the arcade, Corbyn went back home.

He scrolled his Instragm feed and smiled when he saw that Jack posted a ridiculous picture of Corbyn as his birthday post. He was typing a comment when he heard a knock at his door.

Few people knew his address and it was quite late at night, so he was a bit confused, but opened the door anyway to reveal you. You, with messy hair, and disheveled clothes that seemed to be put on in a haste.

“Y/n? What are you-“ Corbyn started with wide eyes but was cut off by you breaking down. Corbyn’s eyes softened as his heart swelled at your crying figure.

He immediately pulled you inside and into his warm embrace where your sobs shook his frame. You fell to a million pieces but his hands came up and ran along your back to soothe you while whispering that it’s okay.

When your sobs subsided, he led you to the couch while he went to the kitchen to brew some hot tea.

He came back with two steaming mugs and gave one to you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, then took a sip of the tea.

He nodded and wrapped his arms around you.

“Better?”

You nodded meekly, tired from all the crying.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked softly.

You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a sob.

Corbyn pulled you in closer. “It’s okay, you can tell me when you’re ready,” he whispered, never prodding you on if you’re uncomfortable.

You sighed into his hoodie. Your tears dampening the fabric yet Corbyn doesn’t seem to mind.

“My boyfriend,” you finally said, avoiding Corbyn’s gaze. “H-He tried to sexually abuse... me.”

Corbyn’s blood ran ice cold. How could anyone hurt such a sweet soul like you? He didn’t understand why anyone would want to make you cry so hard.

Now Corbyn’s blood boiled and his fist tightened. “I’m gonna make that bastard pay,” he said through gritted teeth, and tried to get up from the couch but you stopped him.

“It’s not.. worth the trouble,” you mumbled. “I-I mean I escaped before he began to get into it, but I was just,” you frantically explained. “I was just sc-scared when he pinned me down, he was so strong, and I couldn’t move.. and- and-“

“And it’s not the first time he’s tried that...” you whispered, broken.

Corbyn’s heart teared apart just as he teared up at your vulnerability.

“I-I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this,” Corbyn whispered as tears began to run down your face again.

He wiped your tears away with the back of his thumb. He was angry at your boyfriend for doing such a thing to you, but he also blamed himself for not seeing it in your boyfriend. All he’s ever wanted to do was to protect you, but he failed even at that.

He also blamed himself that if, he wasn’t such a coward, and had actually confessed his feelings for you, then you might have accepted him and avoided dating your current boyfriend.

“Hey,” you said softly, snapping Corbyn out of his thoughts. “Why do you look even more troubled than me?” you teased a little.

“I just... I wish I could’ve prevented it,” Corbyn mumbled. “I hate seeing you cry,” he added softly.

“Oh Corbs, you being here for me is enough,” you sniffed. “God, you don’t even know how much better you made me.”

Corbyn ran his hand down your silky hair.

“I thought... I thought you had a lot of friends to be here for you,” Corbyn admitted.

You sighed sadly. “Well.. yes, but they’re just a facade. No one but you can truly give me comfort,” you said softly. “And frankly I’d rather be with you.”

Corbyn’s heart fluttered at your words as both of you sat in the comfortable silence.

“Corbyn?” you mumbled. “Can you sing me a song?”

Corbyn smiled and started to sing with his honey sweet voice,

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

Oh, I hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

He looked over at his shoulder and saw you sleeping peacefully. He thought you looked perfect, even with messy hair and smudged makeup.

He gently carried you to his bedroom and placed you on the bed, tucking you in. He also used the makeup wipes you left over before to clean your face.

Corbyn sighed as he watched your sleeping figure.

“You know, if i hadn’t been such a coward, maybe you wouldn’t have ended up with him,” he speaked softly to himself.

“Do you know? You look so beautiful when you’re asleep, and I wish I could be the one to tell you that every day, every morning. I wish that I could tell you I get lost in your eyes everytime I look at you, and your laugh is my favourite sound in the world. My heart skips a beat everytime I look at you, but I know that you’re occupied.”

“I never showed any interest in anyone, because you were already in my mind for the longest time.”

“I wish I could be the one to protect you, to love you, to live with you... I wish that I could call you mine, or call you my baby, because that’s- that’s who you are in my mind,” Corbyn confessed, knowing that you wouldn’t hear him.

“Corbyn,” you suddenly spoke up, your eyes fluttering open, for you have been awake for some time now, and heard Corbyn’s confession. “Do you really mean that?” A smile on your face while Corbyn jumped at your voice, cheeks flushing ridiculously red.

“I-I, yeah.. I t-thought you were asleep,” Corbyn stammered, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“You know what, Corbs, I like you too. A lot,” you confessed, cheeks turning pink as well.

“I-I’ve liked you for a long time, but I thought you didn’t show interest in anybody, so I just try to date other people to get you off my mind, but-“ you rambled, but got cut off when Corbyn placed his lips on yours.

Fireworks erupted as both your hearts swelled at the sweetness of the kiss. His lips were softer than you imagined, and his taste- God, you could taste him forever. He pulled away and hid in the crook of your neck, flushed.

You suddenly giggled at a thought.

Corbyn rose up from his position and looked at you with questioning eyes.

“Oh Corbyn, I just realized that the person I’ve spent my whole life looking for, has actually been here beside me this whole time,” you said.

Corbyn smiled as well and kissed you again, this time more passionate than the last.

“I promise to protect you better than all your boyfriends, baby,” Corbyn said, breathless after the kiss.

You smiled so hard at your new pet name.

“Can you say it again?” you requested.

“Baby,” Corbyn replied, smiling at how much happiness he can give you by saying a word.

“Baby, baby, baby, my babygirl...” he continued, kissing your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, all over your face, making you laugh at the love he gives you.

Then Corbyn laughed with you, and thought, best. birthday. ever.

~~~

So hope you guys like this post, and I take requests! So send in some requests if you want to :))

[eryiss]

Chapter Two - The Handyman

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. This is the second chapter, and from now on it’ll be updated weekly. Hope you enjoy it.

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Two – The Handyman

"Fucks sake. Fucking bitch."

"That's not the way to talk to a lady, Laxus. Damn."

"I ain't talkin' to a lady, I'm talking to this piece of shit."

With an angered huff, Laxus slammed down the screwdriver and allowed it to clatter against the small tray of tools. On the table was the industrial toaster that Laxus had been attempting to fix for the better half of the morning, with an only slightly warm piece of bread resting pitifully on the wire rack, practically mocking Laxus with its lack of any toast-like qualities. It was the sixth time that year that the machine had decided to work, and Laxus had grown to have a vendetta against the fucking thing.

But he wasn't going to let it win. He had singlehandedly fixed practically every electric device in Fairy Tail since becoming the handyman, and he would be damned if the fucking toaster was his downfall. He'd conquered faulty boilers, crappy wiring and, on one condition, a disgusting issue with sewage backup over the past year alone. A toaster was nothing.

"Just make your grandad buy a new one," Cana laughed as she walked further into the hotel's breakroom. "It's like twenty years old, probably only makes the bread darker because of an oil leak."

"I ain't getting it replaced," Laxus snapped, glaring at the open circuitry of the machine with probably too much hatred for what the situation deserved. "If it gets it replaced, then the fucking things knows that it's won."

"It's a toaster dude," Cana deadpanned.

"Don't give a shit," Laxus groaned, leaning back in the chair so the forelegs left the floor, resting his arms behind his head. "You meant to be working today?"

"Yeah. Apparently there's some big group coming for lunch and they need extra wait staff, so Gramps called me. And I'm working the bar later," Cana shrugged, taking out a chair and straddling it; because of course she did. "You?"

"Room seven had a flickering light, needed fixing," Laxus sighed. "Thought I might as well work on this thing while I'm here."

The blonde looked around the small room, eyes flittering towards the clock and sighing. He'd been drinking the night before and had it not been for his grandfather's seven AM phone call worrying about the supposed 'lawsuit waiting to happen' he would probably only just be getting out of bed after nursing a light hangover. He'd been able to wrangle a free breakfast from Mirajane, at least, but he would trade that in for his covers at that moment. At least when he was planning to feel sorry for himself about his hangover, he had something to do. Now he just had a day of nothing.

His work was fine, but inconsistent. He did any repairs that was needed at his grandfather's hotel, be that plumbing, electric work, or just helping out when it was understaffed. But Makarov kept a tight ship, and had good relationships with his staff so absences only happened when needed. So, Laxus was often left with little to do.

It was a nice problem to have, but Laxus didn't intend to be impartial.

This was the issue in living in a small town for all of your life, being forced to either thrive there or break free from it. He liked Magnolia, the area was beautiful and his childhood there had been good, but he was limited by living there. A degree in electrical engineering wasn't worth much when the only relevant job available was at a mechanics shop where he'd once bashed in the teeth of the owner's son. The miserable old bastard should have forgiven him by now; it'd been six years.

Which was why he was grateful for his grandfather giving him the job. He got to put his degree to use, even if on crappy toasters, and made a living. But it was a boring existence, and the reason why Laxus found himself on job searchers websites at least twice a week.

"You gonna eat that?" Cana asked, going towards the warmed but not toasted bread.

"No," Laxus furrowed his brows. "Are you?"

"I'm poor, man," Cana laughed, picking up the bread and eating it.

"I've seen the cupboard where you keep your booze, you ain't 'stealing warm. crappy bread poor' yet," Laxus deadpanned, and Cana laughed as she ate her bread; she didn't even put fucking butter on it. "And you get twice the number of tips than me when we work the bar together. Where's it going?"

"Booze cupboard," Cana grinned.

"You'll fuck up your kidneys, you know."

"I'll get an operation and replace 'em," Cana laughed, swallowing a bite of bread. "Speaking of being split open and things going inside, you fucked anyone lately?"

"Fuckin hell!" Laxus exclaimed, wide eyes darting towards the woman who was now openly laughing.

This was something that his friend brought up often, and as such she had lost all tact about it. The two of them were some of the only openly gay people in Magnolia – at least to their knowledge – and therefore had some annoying kinship when it came to their relationships. It had started as them both feeling sorry for themselves, as they had nobody to date. Somehow, it had devolved into a friendship where Cana felt perfectly comfortable talking about what Laxus was planning on doing, or had done, in his bed.

Worse still, Laxus didn't have the same opportunity to make fun of her. Cana was openly besotted with Mirajane, and had long since lost any shame about it. Cana could joke about Laxus falling in love with any man he saw, but Laxus couldn't do the same because they both knew Mirajane was the only woman for her.

Selfish asshole.

"You're gonna fuck all of hell? You must have more time on your hands," Cana laughed, and Laxus stood up with a groan. "Aw, come on man, don't leave."

"I'm gonna go see if one of the toilets needs to be unblocked," Laxus grunted, walking towards the door of the breakroom. "Seems more pleasant than talking t' you."

"Oh how you wound me, I think I might cry," Cana spoke in possibly the most sarcastic voice possible.

"Go suck on yer crushes clit," Laxus muttered.

"Had a good few dreams about that, my man," Cana grinned, before adding in a less teasing tone. "And Lisanna said she wants to talk to you later, so find her once you're done scrubbing the shitter," A smirk formed on her features again. "Maybe she wants to set you up with her brother. You'd be a hot ass couple."

"Fuck yourself."

"Imagine the carnage though. The two of ya could break beds faster than an over eager lumberjack."

Laxus didn't respond, and lifted his middle finger to the woman as he left the room.

~~~

There had been no toilets in need of being cleaned, thankfully, but Laxus had been able to keep himself busy for the morning. It had been mainly small and inconsequential jobs, such as removing leaves from the guttering before a build-up formed and checking that supply of complimentary soap wasn't running low, before he ended up back in the break room and working on the toaster.

It wasn't going well, and the patrons would have to deal with the break rooms single slice toaster for at least another day, but at least Cana was working the restaurant for the lunch shift rather than being there to annoy him. He hoped that the table was full of obnoxious people who didn't know what they wanted and refused to tip.

He gulped down half a can of Red Bull, and groaned as he fought the urge to check toaster prices online.

After cracking his back, he stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He quickly checked himself out in the mirror to make sure he looked presentable before leaving the break room; he may not be part of the service-staff, but he still needed to look good to represent the hotel. Normally he wouldn't have to worry about this – his contact with guests was limited – but if he was going to speak to Lisanna, as Cana had claimed he should, then it was almost definite that he'd be in the public eye for a few minutes at least. He didn't look too bad for someone who'd nearly vomited over a plate of cheese fries the night before.

Lisanna was working at the office attached to the front desk, doing some kind of admin that Laxus didn't care enough about to understand. He walked in and, once she looked up from the monitor, she grinned at him. Laxus didn't frown, but the urge was there. The two of them weren't particularly close.

"Hi," She greeted, annoyingly cheerfully. "I didn't know if Cana had passed on the message."

"Well, here I am," Laxus shrugged.

"There you are," She said with a smile, then waved towards one of the other desk chairs populating the cramped room. Laxus took a seat. "So, I've got something I thought you could help with. A proposition I guess."

Laxus paused for a moment. She wasn't actually going to try and set him up with Elfman, was she? That would be weird, Elfman wasn't Laxus' type.

"There's this guest, you see, who checked in yesterday," She began, before stopping herself. "No, that's not important. Well it is, but not right now," Laxus stayed quiet. Lisanna was a talkative person, and could probably have an entire conversation with herself. "You know Albion house, the old cottage on the outskirts of town that's' all run down."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, confused. "Think I made up some crap about it being haunted when I was a kid."

"That's the place- that was you! Mirajane told me when I was eight and I had nightmare for weeks, you asshole," Lisanna chastised, and Laxus didn't hide the smirk at the admission. "Whatever, we can talk about that later. Anyway, it recently got a new owner, you see. And I was talking to him last night and a bit during breakfast. So he doesn't know what to do because he can't knock it down and sell the land, and the house is kind of crappy so nobody's actually gonna wanna pay any real money for it, right. So he's kinda stuck; I think he needs the money for something, I didn't wanna ask."

Did she talk to the guests this much?

This was why Laxus always booked into big corporate hotels whenever he stayed away.

"Getting off topic, sorry," She shook her head. "So, I was talking to the new owner, and he thought maybe he could get it sold for more money if it was more functional. Not a total refurbishment or anything, just making sure the lights work and the floorboards won't crumble underfoot. And he's not from the area, so he doesn't know any builders or plumbers or anyone he'll need."

She then stopped talking, and began grinning at Laxus expectantly. "And?"

"Really conforming to the stereotype of strong men being dumb," She muttered, and Laxus found himself happy that his ghost story had apparently given her nightmares. "And I said that we've got a kickass handyman working here part time who could probably help you out. I told him about all the stuff you do around here, and he said he'd be interested in meeting with you!"

"You got me a job interview?" Laxus said, taken aback slightly.

"Well, I don't think it's that formal, but kinda," She grinned. "I heard you're looking for a project to work on, and he said he's willing to pay you for your time if you're any good."

Laxus leant back in the chair, closing his eyes slightly. He didn't have a reputation for reacting particularly well to surprises, and this was rather a big one. Because a woman he barely actually knew had done something pretty damn big for him.

Working on property was something Laxus had been curious about, and it had seemed to be plausible for him. It was essentially what he was doing in the hotel, just on a larger scale and possibly with more of a challenge, which Laxus liked the sound of. There had been a few months where he'd watched house renovation shows when he could, to see if he could get a better understanding on how the field worked. He very quickly learned that, to do what he wanted, he needed the money to buy some run down property to renovate. Money which he didn't have, given he was a handyman working part time in a hotel.

So to have an opportunity given to him out of nowhere was a little overwhelming.

Because it could really help him out. He was more than qualified to modernise a house's inner workings, and was willing to put the work in. And if it went well, he would at worst end up with more experience, some extra money and perhaps a good reference he could give to some other housing developers. It could actually be really good.

Of course, that meant Laxus was immediately distrustful of the offer. Because things didn't just happen.

"So this guy is just gonna trust some random stranger?"

"I think he's kind of desperate, really," Lisanna laughed, a pitying expression on her face. "I think he wants to get out of here as quickly as he can, he's a city boy. But that doesn't matter. He seems like a nice man, and it's not like you can't do the work he wants. You might as well talk to him, see if it works out," She shrugged. "He's in the restaurant I think. I said I'd bring him over if you were interested."

"Erm," Laxus mumbled. "Fuck it, why not?"

The majority of the walk towards the restaurant was spent with Laxus trying to rationalise exactly what had just happened. He glanced at his reflection whenever he could, because if this was as much an opportunity as Lisanna seemed to think that it was, Laxus needed to make a good first impression.

When they walked into the restaurant, Lisanna seemed to scan the room before spotting the person she was looking for. She started to walk again and Laxus followed, eyes eventually settling on the man sitting at the window table.

He wasn't what Laxus expected.

Having expected a stuffy old man, in his fifties and balding, Laxus felt wrongfooted. The man was almost certainly a few years younger than Laxus. He had long and green hair, tied high in a ponytail. He was wearing a sharp looking suit that Laxus didn't recognise the brand of. His facial features were sharp and well structured, no doubt the rest of his body just as maintained under his clothing. As Laxus got closer he could smell a mix of some sharp and cool cologne, and the floral scent left by the clothes' steamers put in every room. When he looked up to Laxus he had sharp and inviting blue eyes, and a somewhat enigmatic expression.

Laxus might be inclined to call him a pretty boy, had his expression been a little less intense.

Just his type. Aesthetically, anyway.

"Mr Justine," Lisanna said in greeting. "How'd your lunch?"

"Very pleasant," The man said, glancing for a second to the chicken salad he was eating and then back to Laxus.

"This is the man I told you about, our handyman," Lisanna explained, nudging Laxus. The blonde stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. The man did so, with a firm grasp.

"Laxus," The blonde said. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"You too," The man replied, and Laxus couldn't help but notice how smooth his voice was. But it wasn't the time, so he retracted his hand as the other man spoke. "I'm Freed, as you've perhaps been told. I expect your colleague has explained why I wish to speak with you?"

"The Albion House, right?" Laxus asked. "You got lumbered with the place and need help with the electrics."

"Essentially, yes," Freed nodded. "The only thing that's actually remained intact is the building's structure. The wiring, the plumbing, the heating system, and I'm sure there's a lot more that I'm not aware of that has also been destroyed. I wish to get the building to a point where it's functioning so I can sell it. It doesn't need to be nice to look at, just work. Is that something you think you can do?"

"Well, I'm good with all that shit- stuff," Laxus winced, glancing at the table, and missing the amused expression on Freed's face. "I've done a lot of work here, and in some other houses when they need it. Unless there's some really unusual crap, I should be fine."

"Take a seat, Mr Dreyar."

At the sudden request, Laxus found himself doing what he was told. He sat opposite Freed, and waited a little awkwardly while Freed ordered another tea for himself. He thought about telling him that Lisanna wasn't actually part of the wait-staff, but she smiled and said it'll be right out before retreating to the kitchen. He frowned as she walked away, only to quickly turn back and give him two thumbs up and a large smile. He almost rolled his eyes at the stupid action, but looked back to the man who might soon employ him.

"I think it's best we be honest with one another," Freed continued, and Laxus nodded slightly. "I have no interest nor practical skill when it comes to homeownership and renovations. I can learn, and I'm not an impractical man in general, but a lot of the work will be done by you."

"I can do that," Laxus said with a nod. "How would that work with the, erm… payment, if that ain't too forward?"

"No, that's fair," Freed said, pulling out his phone from his breast pocket. "I haven't had long to look into it, but I plan to pay you by the hour; I don't know how long it will take, so I thought that made more sense than a single payment. I'll clarify how much you get each hour when I find out the average pay a skilled workman gets. Of course we can debate this if you don't think it's fair, but I expect it'll be a good wage"

Laxus probably looked a bit stupid for a moment. He was expecting either a vague answer or a simple 'I'll pay you a grand and expect it to be done by the end of the month.' Not a lot of… legal sounding crap.

"That sounds good," Laxus said after a moment, nodding. "How bad's the house, if y' know? The outside ain't great but I'd like to know what I'm getting into."

"The outside is the best part, I'm afraid," Freed chuckled a little bitterly, and Laxus glanced up at his face again. On his handsome features – and damn, up close they were pretty handsome – there were slight lines of worry beside his eyes. "I didn't take many pictures as I wasn't in the best of moods, but this is fairly reflective of the entire place."

Freed flicked on his phone a few times, and then showed his screen to Laxus. It took a few seconds for Laxus to actually understand what that was, and when he did he let out an almost impressed sigh and leant back in his chair.

"That's the circuit box?" He laughed, and Freed nodded. "It looks like…"

"It had a violent orgy with a jackhammer, baseball bat and a box of explosives?" Freed completed, and Laxus let out a short bark of laughter, shocking himself.

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't laugh," Laxus winced, though he was grinning. When he glanced towards Freed again, he openly saw him smirking at him. If nothing else, at least this proved his boss had a sense of humour. "I didn't expect it, sorry. It does look pretty bad though, if the rest of the house is like that then it's probably gonna take a while to get the place in a liveable state."

"I assumed as much," Freed said with a sigh. "I only intend to stay here for a week, I should clarify. My office may allow me to extend that for another week. I'm hoping that, by then, you'll have begun work and can do so without me. I'll keep in regular contact of course, but I won't be here in person often."

"That's okay. I can deal with that," Laxus nodded as he spoke. He liked working alone. "What do you do, if you don't mind me askin'?"

"I'm a lawyer," Freed waved his hand as he returned his phone to his jacket pocket.

"Fuck. That's pretty-" Hot. "Impressive."

"Thank you," Freed nodded a little. "I don't mean to be abrupt, but I've got to clear some details up with my office, so I'll have to leave you," He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. "Here's my card, call me in the evening. We'll discuss things further then. Good day, Laxus."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "Speak later."

Freed nodded, and left the restaurant. Laxus allowed his eyes to trail over his retreating figure, roaming over his broad shoulders to his taut waist, then, for a split-second, to his ass. He glanced away, only to see Cana watching him with a judgmental, shit-eating grin.

"I'm gonna fix the fucking toaster," Laxus muttered with a slight blush, standing abruptly. Cana kept smirking. "Fuck off."

[lilsherlockian1975]

The Nose Knows

A little soulmates AU, mostly fluff. Here’s part one. This is NOT beta’d, sorry for any mistakes. Huge thanks to @mel-loves-all for helping out with editing the images since I’m an ignorant goose penis when it comes to all that business. Blame me for the quality of the pics... it’s what I picked out for her. ~LiL~

-o-o-o-o-

He catches it on a breeze. It hits him like a physical blow and he instantly knows what he’s smelling, if not... who.

He and his cousin Daven are sitting on one of the few available benches on the Quad. Addam, his best friend since childhood, is talking about some girl he’d met at a sorority mixer the night before but as soon as the scent drifts his way, Jaime pretty much tunes out the sordid tale of sloppy, near-anonymous sex. It’s a gorgeous Spring day, not a cloud in the sky and no hint of rain for the first time in at least two weeks. This fact alone has driven most of the student population out of doors, making it almost impossible for him to quickly assign the scent to its owner.

Jaime is instantly ill at ease, which is unfortunate as moments ago he’d felt entirely in his element. He and his twin sister had celebrated their twenty-second name day the weekend before and prior to the scent, he’d been feeling at the very top of his game. Now he’s... confused and excited and anxious all at once.

Less than two months and he will be finished with this gods’ forsaken town and its massive university. He’s already been accepted at Crakehall School of Art & Design for his post-grad, which is, incidentally, where he originally had planned to study. His father’d had different ideas, forcing Jaime into the business programme at KLU. Thankfully, he had managed to slip a minor in Architecture into his degree by selling Tywin a load of shit about wanting to ‘propel Castlery Corp. into the modern era’. The minor had added a full year to Jaime’s studies and without a major in his chosen field, he will have to take supplementary classes at CSAD but he’s certain it will be worth it in the end.

None of that matters now. Tywin Lannister had died of a massive stroke seven months ago. Jaime supposes he should feel worse about that; should feel some kind of loss or sadness, and maybe he does, though not for the reasons most sons would for the death of a parent. But the old man was never a real father. He’d been indifferent toward Tyrion, dismissive toward Cersei - though he could occasionally be somewhat warmer to his only female child - and constantly demanding that Jaime ‘live up to the Lannister name’. Jaime can feel sympathy for their mother, of course, she did love the old bastard, but neither he nor his sister are overly damaged by the old man’s death. Oddly enough, their father’s death seems to be affecting his little brother the most.

The scent assails him again and this time he stands, walking towards it, leaving Addam sputtering objections and calling him names. Jaime doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about is the originator of that smell.

He passes small groups of fellow students, all equally excited about the respite from the spring rains. The Quad is packed, of course, so it’s no easy task. Not to mention that he probably looks like some kind of weirdo, walking around, nose first and… sniffing. But he’s being driven by something entirely out of his control. 

Though he’s never really given much thought to the idea of soulmates, he knows they exist - his Uncle Gerion and Aunt Briony are soulmates, for instance, but it’s rarely talked about within the family, almost as if it is some dirty secret. Actually, for some unknown reason, talking about soulmates seems to be taboo in ‘polite society’. Uncle Gerion - his favourite uncle -  however, is quite outspoken against Lannister Family tradition and societal norms. The phenomenon, as far as he knows, is very rare these days and Jaime has never once even considered the possibility for himself. 

Now… Now there's no doubt. He can smell her - them? - whoever! Jaime’s never been attracted to men, but somehow he knows that if the gods have seen it fit to match him with a man… so be it! 

Shaking himself, he chuckles as he moves to another group of students. It won’t be a man, he thinks. Surely the gods would have given him some kind of inclination towards his own sex if… Suddenly, he’s engulfed with the scent. They’re close, they must be!  He turns, following his nose like a damn toucan. 

The crowd thins a bit; it’s the top of the hour and people are rushing off to class. Jaime’s eyes and, yes, his nose, zero in on his target. Shit! It is a dude! He’s taller than Jaime by maybe an inch or so with short, straw-like blond hair, broad shoulders and… He’s just about to resign himself to a future that he’d never even considered (okay, so he’s maybe had the odd thought here and there about other guys - everyone has, right?! Right?) when they turn around and…  

“You’re a girl,” he says without thinking. 

She (oh, thank the gods she’s a she!) narrows her eyes, straightens her spine and glares. “Yes, I am. And you’re not very original, I’m afraid,” she says coldly before stalking past him. 

What?! No! She’s… she’s supposed to know. She’s supposed to smell him too. What in the seven hells is going on?! “Wait!” Jaime calls out but she doesn’t stop. He can’t give up, he just can’t. Sprinting to catch up, he reaches out for her, wanting to stop her, to talk to her. He doesn’t make it that far, though. Just before he touches her arm, she jerks back - maybe she saw him in her peripheral vision, maybe it’s some strange side effect of their connection, he doesn’t know - but when he sees the look in her unbelievably blue eyes, he’s the one flinching away. 

“I don’t know who you think you are,” she practically growls, “but you can’t just go around insulting people, chasing after them then touching them as if it’s your right!”

“But it is,” he replies lamely because... how doesn’t she know?

Her responding laugh is mocking and he can’t deny that it hurts him in a way he never imagined being hurt. Shaking her head, she sneers as she looks him up and down. “Guys like you are all the same���”

There are no guys like me, he thinks but luckily, this time he holds his tongue.

“I know I’m an easy target - hard to miss, low hanging fruit and whatnot - I’m just not in the mood for this nonsense today.”

Jaime knows he should give up, regroup and try again later, but patience has never been his strong suit. “I wasn’t… It wasn’t an insult. I was…” ‘Surprised’ sounds insulting and really, how does she still not know? His mind scrambles for a word to properly describe his condition. Finally, he settles on, “Confused?” though it unintentionally comes out as a question.

This seems to only further enrage the girl. She takes a step back, draws a deep breath and, once again, shakes her head. “Find someone else to help you figure out your sexuality!”

Okay, there’s a story there, Jaime’s sure of it but he doesn’t have time to ask. “No-no, you’re misunderstanding me. I know I’m not gay.” Although the fact that he considered it for thirty seconds or so is something he’ll deal with later! “I’m saying that…”

“I really don’t care what you’re saying.” Again, her eyes travel over him and Jaime has never felt so judged in his entire life. “It’s nothing new, it’s nothing I’ve not heard before. Do you really think you’re the first prick to want to screw with me? I’m guessing it’s another bet. Who put you up to this? Red? Bushy? If it was Hyle, I swear to the Seven...”

“None of them! I don’t even know who you’re talking about!” When he thinks about her words, an intense feeling of protectiveness overcomes him. “What bet? What did they do?” 

Her pale, freckle-covered cheeks turn an interesting shade of pink as she hitches her messenger bag higher on her shoulder before crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing. Never mind. Just… Just leave me alone. Please.” The last word comes out softly, pleadingly and it just about breaks Jaime’s heart. Turning, she starts to go.

“I’m not a creep!” he calls out, managing to stop her escape. Looking around, he notices that, miraculously, the Quad has pretty much cleared out. If their fellow students hadn’t been in such a rush to return to class he and the angry girl would have surely drawn a crowd. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself before continuing, “And I’m not a prick. I am sort of an arsehole, but not - I think, not like those guys you mentioned. Whatever they did... hurt you enough to make you make that face…”

She whips around. “What about my face?” 

With a sigh, he says, “It looks sad. Too sad. It’s not supposed to.” And what does that even mean? he wonders as the words leave his mouth.

She’s surprised for a split second, then all emotion seems to drain from her features. “I don’t know why you’re doing this but please just… leave me alone.”

So he does. For now.

-o-o-o-o-

There is a very good reason that Brienne doesn’t know ‘who’ Jaime is. This is just the first part, I’m working on the next bit. Please let me know what you think. Thanks ~Lil~

[spideypool504]

Reckless

Audacity

Part 1

Aideku

Aizawa x Izuku

||

"Izu. You've got to come out. It's been two weeks!" He can hear Kacchan banging on the door outside of his new apartment. 

Because he had to move out.

Because the love of his life cheated on him.

Then lied to him and then convinced him that it was his fault that he cheated. 

He was doing fantastic and life couldn't be better. Please know how sarcastic he's being. Because he uses sarcasm now. 

It's the fifth time Kacchan had come over this week. He had let Izuku stay with him for a few nights but he didn't want to impose on his best friend right after he'd basically cut the man out of his life for his asshole husband who he still loved. So he found an apartment not too far from Katsuki's which was convenient for multiple reasons. It was close to his job when he went in and avoided everyone and just go on patrol till he was forced to go home. He had to keep up his appearances because he worked too hard to claim his title as the symbol of hope to just let it slip away from him. Even when he was working the night shift for his manipulative asshole husband he still worked hard to maintain his status in the hero community.

He owed it to himself, Katsuki and all the other little kids that grew up with a less than ideal life. Katsuki fought with him when he switched his hours to night shift because it meant he wasn't able to do the day raids needed to take down villainous operations when they were least expecting it. They did raids at night but the ones that really truly made differences were the ones they did during the day. The ones to take down the drug lords and sex trades and human trafficking rings. Katsuki was pissed at, not so much Izuku but at Shouta. Him being on the outside of the relationship but having a close bond with both of the men, he saw what was happening and almost went on a rampage. The only thing that kept him from blowing the raven's head right off his body was Izuku's broken and desperate eyes begging him not too. 

He should have done it anyway and dealt with an angry Izuku. 

He and Katsuki had come so far since their middle school days of the blonde being his bully. Katsuki came out with it the summer before they started high school and admitted to him he was gay and terrified that Izuku would look at him different so he'd bullied him to try to get Izuku to leave him before he could hate him for reasons he couldn't control. The dumb ass came to his senses after his father had gotten sick and he thought he had no one he could really turn too. Till he found himself subconsciously walking to Izuku's house a few blocks down. He took one look at his best friend's concerned freckled face and knew he fucked up. 

The blonde cried in his best friend's arms the entire night and spilled his soul to him the morning after. Izuku punched him in the arm hard enough to bruise and explained to him why he was stupid. Izuku could never hate him for being gay because he was too. Izuku explained to him that Katsuki could honest to Kami cut off his arm and he'd still be Izuku's best friend. They laughed and cried some more and then got up to make themselves and Izuku's mom breakfast. 

They'd been inseparable from that day on once more until all of this with Shouta happened. Izuku had felt so guilty for abandoning his best friend. He felt ashamed and scared that Katsuki would hate him for leaving their friendship for his marriage.  Katsuki tried to explain to him that there was nothing and no reason  that could ever make it okay for Izuku's husband to step out of their relationship. Tried to get him to see that his husband was making up excuses but Izuku didn't want to hear any of it at that time. He screamed and yelled and swore up and down that it was his fault that Shouta cheated. That he wasn't giving his husband and their relationship enough attention and focusing too much on becoming the symbol of hope. He cried in Katsuki's arms sobbing that it was all his fault and Katsuki simply told him, "I hate what he's done to you" before he let go of Izuku and walked out of their shared office in their agency they built from the ground up together like they always dreamed of doing. 

Izuku didn't bother to put on a shirt as he made his way towards his front door. He turned the latches and undid the deadbolt and let the door creak it's way open to allow his best friend back into his life finally. 

"Fucking finally, Nerd. I've been knocking on this door since Sunday. It's Thursday." Katsuki shuffles Izuku backwards and back into his apartment not letting Izuku say anything otherwise. "This place is disgusting. We're cleaning up and then heading out. And don't fucking fight with me. You need out of this place and I will drag you by your damn ear if you try to say a damn word against it. Try me Izuku." Kacchan glare at him from across the room. Blankets, empty  ice cream cartons and pizza boxes litter the floor between them. When Izuku just nods and gives him a watery smile Katsuki huffs and gestures him to come hug him. Izuku runs over to him and is about to wrap his arms around his best friend but is stopped by a hand to the face shoving him back. "Nope. You smell gross. I've come up with a new plan. You go take a fucking shower, I'll clean up and then we head out." Izuku is shoved towards the hallway where his bathroom and bedroom are located. "You need to not smell like the inside of an elephant's ass." 

With that Katsuki walks back to the living room and kitchen where he hears garbage bags being opened. Izuku huffs in determination to not waste his life away in this apartment anymore and grabs a pair of bright orange boxer briefs and heads to the bathroom to take his shower. 

Izuku doesn't really own anything black or dark grey anymore, it hurt to look at the colors that the love of his life wears on a daily basis. He still had black jeans, dishes, his favorite coffee mug,  underwear and undershirts and such.  It would be ridiculous if he didn't have anything black or dark grey in his possession,  but he just can't stand to look at the colors anymore. They don't bring the comfort they once did, the sense of belonging and home. 

He also changed his shampoo and conditioner scent, his soap, deodorant and threw out his favorite cologne. He didn't want a single thing that reminded him of his husband. He wanted to find and be Izuku Midoriya  once more. He's been Izuku Aizawa for so long, been 'Kitten' even longer and he doesn't know who he is without Shouta anymore so he's decided to start fresh and new. It hurt so much. Almost everything around him  had his heart clenching in pain and dread. He misses sleeping next to Shouta, missing sleeping all together. It took more than a lot to get used to sleeping alone and he was contemplating getting a dog to share his space with. He'd have to move out of this apartment and find a pet friendly one but it would be worth it to have someone to share his home with again and find some sense of normalcy. 

He quickly finished his shower and towel dried himself off, slipped on his underwear and stepped out the bathroom to head back to his bedroom to get clothes. He made his way in and found a set of clothes laid out on his bed. 

"You don't know how to dress yourself if it's not your hero costume." Katsuki was leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed and signature scowl on his face. "Get dressed, I'm done cleaning. We're heading out in fifteen." Katsuki closes the door and Izuku is left to himself once again. 

He looks to the outfit and thanks Kami that Katsuki didn't go crazy with the outfit and it actually looked really comfortable. It was his dark purple acid washed skinny jeans, and a  pastel purple t-shirt that had 't-shirt' written across it. He's surprised to see it, he knows how much his blonde friend hates those shirts.   He quickly gets dressed and was proven right, that it was indeed comfortable. He was grateful. He grabbed the hoodie hanging off his closet door handle and walked out the room to his now spotless and citrus smelling living room. 

"How did you-" He turns to Katsuki with a raised eyebrow but was cut off with a glare. 

"Don't question my magic. You'll insult me and my abilities." There was movement coming from the kitchen but Katsuki was standing still in front of him in the living room.

"You mean my magic, right?" Shouto comes walking around the corner out of his kitchen with a small smirk in the corner of his lips.

"When did you-" Izuku starts to question when his other best friend appeared inside his apartment but is once again cut off. 

"I'm the one that called you and started cleaning before you got here so no, my magic, you bastard." Shouto rolls his eyes and gives them a rare wide smile. 

"Sure babe. My bad." Shouto makes his way into the living room and brings Izuku into a warm hug. "Katsuki told me you finally let him in and called me over. You were still in the shower when I got here so I helped clean up. How're you holding up?" Shouto pulls back from the hug and looks at him with a deep concern. 

"I'm doing great. Can't you tell?" Izuku gives the couple a shaky smile and takes in a deep breath trying to keep the tears right where they are behind his eyes. He's pulled into the hug again with a second set of arms wrapping around both him and Shouto. 

"You don't smell like an elephant's ass anymore but what in the fucking hell is this smell combination you've got going on?" Katsuki wrinkles his nose and Shouto's nose scrunches in distaste when he finally catches a sniff of Izuku. 

"I love you Zu, but  uh ew." Shouto slowly releases him and takes a step back along with Katsuki. 

His ears turn a bright red from embarrassment. "Shouta was the one that always got the shampoo, conditioner and body wash. It was always the same thing and I had an anxiety attack when I tried to shower with it all last week. So I grabbed random things off the shelf and said 'fuck it'." He shrugs his shoulders. 

The two across from him cock their heads to the side and scrunch their eyebrows in confused concern. 

"Fuck it"? The two asked him in unison. 

Izuku shrugs and turns towards his front door to put his favorite red shoes on. He misses the look the couple share behind him and the silent conversation they have. It's interrupted when Izuku's phone lets out a quiet jingle that slowly gets louder till Izuku declines the call. He looked upset to the duo behind him and knew who was trying to get a hold of Izuku's attention. 

"Give me the phone." Shouto startles the other two with his blunt and forceful voice. He's set his face to stone and holds out his hand, waiting patiently for Izuku to comply to the demand. The phone starts to ring again and Shouto narrows his eyes at the green haired man standing in front of him. "Now, Izuku." With that he's handed the phone and walks out of the house with a promise to be back momentarily. 

"How many times have you answered his call?" Katsuki is soft with his words and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

"To many times. He won't give me a real reason why he did it. Or why he lied to me. He won't explain anything just keeps asking for a second chance. I can't Kat. I can't look at him the same and I feel like all of this is my fault." He's taken into Katsuki's arms once again just as his voice breaks and the tears finally start to fall and stream down his face. 

"I'm sure Sho is going to have him stop. He needs to first give you time to process the fuckery he did and then he needs to accept whatever decision you make for your relationship." He's given a squeeze around his shoulders and he sobs loudly into the blonde's chest. 

He cries for a few more moments and by the time he calms his breathing Shouto is back in the house and has slipped his phone into his back pocket and joined the hug. "Everything hurts. All over. I can't stop crying. I can't sleep." He lets out a frustrated growl and roughly drags his hands through his hair, pulling as he went. "I already know what I'm doing but it's so hard. I can't look at him the same. I don't want him to touch me. I just-" He takes a deep breath and deflates. "I just want a divorce. I don't think I could trust him again like I used too. He cheated on me and then succeeded in making me think it was my fault and let me destroy myself for a whole six months. He was ready to let me throw away everything. My career. My passion. My best friend. Everything." He clenches his hands by his sides and he clenches his teeth in ways that his dentist would despise. "He can tell me he loves me all he wants, but you don't do what he did to the person you love."  

Shouto is behind him and rubs his hands up and down his arms, trying to sooth the brokenhearted man in front of him. The dual haired and blonde have seen the once ray of sunshine in front of them cry more times than they could ever count but these cries were different. These were from deep in his soul and heart wrenching, the sorrow he let out had them both seeing red. Such an amazing human should never feel the way he does. He doesn't deserve what happened to him. 

"We'll help you, Izuku." Shouto brings attention to himself with the promise he makes.

"With whatever you need. We'll be here for you." Katsuki adds on for good measure. He lost his best friend for half a year. Over his cold dead body was he allowing anything else to happen to his friend. "We love you, Zu." 

Izuku gives Shouto's hand that stopped on his shoulder a squeeze in thanks and gives Katsuki a wobbly and watery smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it you guys. I appreciate the both of you." 

It's quiet for a moment before Katsuki reaches the absolute end of the amount of mushy he could handle. "Alright! Enough crying! Let's go. We've got shit to do. Starting with getting you something normal to fucking shower with, fuck!" He storms off towards the front door and only pauses to put his shoes on before he's got the door open and demanding for the other two to hurry up. 

Shouto rolls his eyes and ushers Izuku towards the door. "Let's go before he leaves us and we have to walk to wherever the hell he plans on going." There's a chuckle in his voice and Izuku has no choice but to giggle because they both know that Shouto speaks from experience for the both of them. They grab Izuku's set of keys and quickly lock up before running to Katsuki who already had his car running and looked like he was about to drive off without them.

That day on Katsuki and Shouto went over to Izuku's new apartment and made sure he wasn't falling any further into the depressive hole he'd dug himself into. They helped him file for divorce and let him cry himself out in either of their arms after they all three went down to the courthouse to turn in the paperwork. It would be another week before Shouta received the paperwork but Izuku was determined to go through with it. 

He was taking a stand for himself and not backing down to the sweet words that his soon to be ex husband begged him to come back with. The sweet man he once saw in Shouta Aizawa was skewed and he didn't think he'd ever be able to let him back into his heart the way he had him for 15 years. Maybe after Izuku healed and felt more like himself he would sit down with the man and try to get actual answers from him but for now he didn't want any half asses excuses. He didn't want the begging. The apologies that didn't seem as heartfelt as they seemed. Izuku still loved Shouta but he couldn't trust him, couldn't believe in his words any longer. 

For now Izuku had what he wanted and needed. He had himself. He had his childhood best friend that would literally kill for him. He had his herteochomatic best friend that has proven time and time again he'd stick with Izuku through whatever life threw at them. He had his agency he built and ran with his now two best friends after bringing Shouto in as a shareholder over the company. He had the children, young and full grown adult looking up to him as he slowly changed how the world worked. He had found that he had all that he needed staring at him in the face for the longest time. 

And he found that he didn't need Shouta to make his dreams come true. All he needed was himself and the support of his friends. 

*BONUS*

"Give me the phone." Shouto stared at the device in Izuku's hand trying to restrain himself from taking it from the man. His best friend was hurt more and more and not being allowed to mourn and heal every time that phone rang. He was pissed. The phone lit up and started ringing once more with Shouta's name displayed across the screen. That wasn't even a full minute from the last call that rang through the near empty apartment. 'Keep the flames in check Sho. You're inside a very flammable apartment right now.' "Now, Izuku." 

He's finally handed the ringing phone and he doesn't hesitate to step past the broken green man and step outside. Izuku doesn't need to hear what he's got to say. 

He slides his thumb across the screen to answer the call and puts the phone up to his ear. Before the expletives can flow out of his mouth he's interrupted. "Kitten I know. You don't want to hear it but please. Please come home. Let's work on this. I miss you. The kids miss you. We just want you back home. We can work on this. This doesn't have to be our end." He can hear that the man is tired. That makes Shouto happy. 

"You've got some fucking nerve, Shouta. Your balls must drag on the fucking ground for you to be calling Izuku back to back for only he knows how fucking long." He can hear the man on the other end try to make a rebuttal or comment or something but Shouto's not having any of it. "No! How fucking dare you!? After what you did? Where the fuck do you get off dragging Izuku's heart and soul through a damn minefield and then have the audacity to call him and try to make him feel bad leaving you? This is your last call to Izuku. This is your last call to him till he calls you. And I swear to whatever deity there may be if I find out you've tried to come and see him I will skin you alive till e very single nerve you have is on display and then let Katsuki do whatever the fuck he wants. Using him as an excuse to manipulate Izuku. The only reason you're still walking around right now Shouta and aren't in a wheel chair, hospitalized or otherwise is because that would hurt Izuku even more than you already have. Try me Shouta. I really fucking dare you too." His teeth are clenched and he's nearly panting with trying to keep himself from bursting into furious flames. Shouta used to be a good friend of his, truly. But Izuku is his best friend that drug him out of a dark place and saved his life in more ways and times than he could possibly keep track of. Izuku came before all and above all. 

"I understand." Were the last words he heard before he heard the line go silent. Shouto takes a few deep breaths and flexes his hand that isn't holding Izuku's phone and calms himself down before he steps back into the apartment he'd just left. 

He walks in to a loudly sobbing Izuku wrapped up in his boyfriend's arms. He looks Katsuki in the eyes and see them on fire. Katsuki had been taking all of what's been happening harder than Shouto but that was to be expected. Shouto just took a few steps forward, slipped the phone in Izuku's back pocket and joined the hug. 

They were going to do everything they could to get the ray of sunshine back, come hell or high water. 

That was a promise.

[knives-out20]

First Match - Gay Scotch Prequel #3

Fandom: Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Pairing: Walter Jordan (OC) Archie Hicox

Warnings: Swearing maybe, Spark at first sight, Lowkey gay, Grumpy Walter, Walter backstory,

Notes: hehehehhehehehe first meet tingz enjoy

Walter grumbled to himself as he trudged into his workplace, rolling his eyes when a woman ran up to him. Working on a day with a foul history behind it (in Walter’s past) was bad enough as is. He didn’t need to be annoyed so soon.

“Mr. Jordan” she greeted.

“Maxine, good morning. Apologies for being late, I contemplated whether showing up today of all days was worth it” he replied.

Maxine pushed up her glasses.”I’m glad you did come, in though. It’s semi-urgent” she told.

Walter groaned, “what is it?”

“Mr. Kipling wants to see you in his office.”

Walter clawed at his face.”Oh good Lord, am I being fired?” He asked.

Maxine shook her head.”No, no! Of course not, he just wants a word with you, that’s all I’m aware of” she explained.

Walter exhaled slowly, looking around.”Alright, Thank you.”

Maxine nodded, rushing off.

Walter slicked his hair to one side, starting his journey to the staircase. He made his way up at his own pace, and down the hall to his boss’ office. Walter knocked on the door, “sir, you wanted to see me?”

Mr. Kipling’s voice boomed from inside.”Jordan, my boy!”

Walter rubbed the bridge of his nose. He opened the door, stepping inside with a frown.”What is it, sir?”

Sitting across from Mr. Kipling was a man, who looked to be a tad bit taller than Walter himself. He spared Walter a glance, obediently turning back to Mr. Kipling.

“Now, boy, you’ve worked at Films and Filmmakers for quite some time now. How you go about your reviews and articles for this publication as a film critic is that of the most articulate that I’ve ever seen” Mr. Kipling praised.

Walter merely nodded.”Thank you, sir. What, am I getting employee of the month?” He sarcastically inquired.

Mr. Kipling laughed.”No, I’m afraid not. I’ve took it upon myself to assign you to help our newest employee. I think he’s from around where you’re from.”

Walter internally cringed in disgust. Now he has to deal with a wide-eyed, dumb, innocent, reckless newbie? Great, absolutely wonderful. He turned around, walking out the door.”Yes, sir. I’ll see them at my desk.”

“Walter-”

Walter closed the door behind him, strutting down the hall. He’ll see to this later.

***

Walter sat at his desk in silence, fidgeting with a lighter. He stood up, ready to complain to his boss about how no new worker had approached him yet.

“Light my cigarette?”

Walter turned his head with dull eyes, seeing a fresh face with their arms full. His eyebrows raised, taken aback by their soft features and timid smile.

The man in question had tamed hair and big, bright eyes, a cigarette between his lips.”If that lighter has any fluid left in it, that is.”

Walter gulped, gaze flickering between the man and his lighter. He nodded hesitantly, careful to light the stranger’s cigarette.”A-And who might you be?”

“I’m, ah-” the man inhaled his cigarette, putting his stuff down on an empty space on Walter’s desk. He held the cigarette between his fingers to talk properly.”I’m Archibald Hicox. You could call me Archie, if you’d like” Archie outstretched his free hand.”I’m the new worker Mr. Kipling assigned you to.”

Rats. He’s cute.

Walter nodded, shaking Archie’s hand. That British accent was like music to his ears.”Walter Jordan, I- I really would just prefer Walter, if it’s all the same to you” he stuttered, hand contact lingering.”You don’t, uhm, sound to be like my lot, as Mr. Kipling suggested” Walter cleared his throat.

Archie took another puff of his cigarette, cheeks hollowing when he did.”And what is your lot?” He chuckled.

“Uh...” Walter’s mind momentarily blanked at the sound, he could’ve sworn his heart was failing him.”Glasgow. Scotland.”

“Scotland!” Archie snapped his fingers in realization.”Scotland, that’s why your accent sounds so familiar. Ah, I’m afraid I’m not of Scottish descent myself. I’m from England” he corrected.

Walter nodded, nervously licking his lips.

Archie tilted his head.”Your mood’s changed since earlier today. I assumed Mr. Kipling caught his ‘most prized employee’ on a bad day?”

“He said that?”

“Well...one of.”

“Of course he did” Walter sucked his teeth.”And, yea. I sort of have a bad history with today’s date. I try not to let it consume me, but I do struggle with it at times. I’d rather not get into it, if that’s alright?”

“Of course.”

Walter’s hands hung at his sides. He coughed, gesturing to his desk’s second chair.”Uh, please-! Sit, I’ll show you the works of Films and Filmmakers” he offered.

Archie blew out a puff of smoke into empty air, sitting down.

“Now, you’ll be writing reviews and articles for this publication. Said boss of this publication is a loud, loud man. If he’s ratting someone out, I swear, the whole building will shake in peril” Walter joked.

Archie grinned.”I shall pack earmuffs, then.”

“You should. Have you met Maxine? Maxine Baker.”

Archie shook his head.

“Mr. Kipling’s secretary. Sweetest woman in the building, pretty wee glasses. All the fellas here have tried to get at her at least once, but not me. I could never see us in that light” he explained.

Archie nodded along as he listened.

“Mr. Kipling’s wife stops by sometimes. Her name’s Clarice, she’s blonde, about my height, and honestly, you’ll know her when you see her. If she invites you to bed her using any array of words you can even think of, decline, and bolt it in the other direction. If you decide to agree to her wishes and make love to her, she’ll flock to Mr. Kipling like a damsel in distress and twist the story to have the poor sod fired” Walter shrugged.

Archie’s eyebrows jumped.”Really? And Mr. Kipling has no idea?”

“None. If you try telling him, he’ll grunt you off for making excuses. Can’t stand that tramp. If a man named Dean asks you to make him coffee during break, don’t. He’ll pretend he never asked you, and fake getting mad to the point where he’ll splash it on you- the coffee, I mean. Straight bastard, he is” Walter ran a hand through his hair.”I-I’d suggest you stick with me, then you’ll be peachy keen. This lot tends to leave me alone because of my name.”

“Walter?”

“Jordan” Walter corrected.”Big name back in the motherland, but not as big as the bloody Margolis family is, here. Aye, if anyone asks you to put a good word o’ them to me, don’t do it, mate, they just want me in for the money, I beg of ya” he shook his head, leaning back in his seat. Walter crossed one leg over the other, resting his arm on the head of the chair.

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, most importantly- favourite movie, go.”

Archie laughed in disbelief, putting out his cigarette in the ash tray.”I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t recall stuttering, mate” Walter answered.”Favourite film, go.”

“Alright, alright, uhm...” Archie furrowed his eyebrows in thought.”Frankenstein.”

“Incorrect! The correct answer is The Kid, with Charlie Chaplin.”

Archie chortled, gesturing a hand at Walter.”Unbelievable! You asked for my personal favourite.”

“Around here, Archibald? The older, the better” Walter tapped his temple.”Got it?” He grinned, looking the new, good-looking employee up and down.

Archie eyed Walter, nodding in utter obedience.”Yes, sir.”

[laceymorganwrites]

She-Hulk and Explosion Boy pt.6

Word Count: 1,873

Pairing: Bakugo x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: What happens when two idiots catch Feelings for each other and are too proud to admit it?

“You´re such a fucking idiot, you know” you laughed as Bakugo teased you about being bad at video games. You were just lying on your bed, competing with each other as usual.

It was only when you met up regularly again that you realized how much you really missed him.

Maybe Mina was right and you did like him more than you were ready to admit to yourself.

In those past few weeks you tried to find out exactly that, you tried to pay more attention to the feelings you felt when looking at Bakugo, when thinking about him, which you had to learn to accept that you did in fact think about him.

It wasn´t hard having feelings for your best friend, it was easy, inevitable. After all you spent almost every day with each other, talking to each other, getting to know one another closely enough to fall in love. Of course you had a crush on him.

How could you not? You weren´t blind.

He was handsome, and you were just a living human girl, and damn those arms could crush you at any time…

“(Y/N), you listening?” he nudged at your arm, trying to get your attention.

Okay, maybe you were too lost in thought thinking about him, but that was only because Mina annoyed you so much about it. At least that was what you told yourself.

“Huh? Did you say something?” you smirked at him, knowing full well he hated it when you didn´t pay attention to him.

“I said I need to go, it´s getting late” he rolled his eyes.

You felt a little pang in your heart and frowned at that, you didn´t realize it was already this late…

“Oh, alright...see you in school then” you mumbled, it was hard to hide your feelings around Bakugo, so you didn´t even bother trying.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow” he hesitated before answering. Bakugo was never sure what to do when you let him in on your emotions, he didn´t know how to comfort you or what was wrong in the first place, so he didn´t do anything at all.

And every time you looked at him an instance longer he felt his cheeks heat up, and when you touched his shoulder, or laughed at something he said…

But that was just because he liked you more than a friend.

He knew you´d never like him the same way and he hated his brain for interpreting things into your actions and giving him false hopes because of that.

Bakugo wasn´t stupid, he knew exactly that you were special, to him at least, if you´d spend time with someone as beautiful as you as often as he did it was bound to happen, really.

Fuck, he had to be the luckiest bastard on earth to have the privilege to be with you so often, yet he was also the stupidest to actually fall for you.

You deserved so much better, you deserved someone kind like Kirishima, someone caring like Sero and someone funny like Kaminari.

All the things he was not.

You accompanied Bakugo to the door and hugged him goodbye, a habit you developed after your make up, it was a bittersweet feeling.

Getting to get physically intimate with him, but having to let go eventually, being so close yet so far, and you always had to watch out not to hug him too long….like you did now, fuck.

Bakugo melted into the hug, not daring to hug back because he knew that if he did he´d never let you go.

He relaxed and his fingers itched so bad to touch you, he took in your sweet smell that always made him feel like home and fuck was he weak.

His arms slowly wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him subconsciously, making you blush and your heart go crazy.

It was as if the whole world went still and silent, everything stopped like the cheesy sequences in those shitty romance movies.

“See you in school” Bakugo was the first one to let go after the way too long hug, but only because he had to physically force himself to.

You just nodded, thinking about how stupid you got every time you two got closer, your brain just shut off.

When you two walked to school the next morning, none of you uttered a word about the hug yesterday.

It was sort of like a silent agreement between the two of you.

As soon as you walked into school, getting to your class seemed more of a challenge than usual.

Not because you got lost like stupid fucks, but because class 1B was standing in front of your class and insulting you.

You groaned, it was too early for this shit.

Luckily Bakugo laid an arm around you, guiding you through the masses and making sure you didn´t get lost, he also handled the loud mouth who was insulting you rather well.

The presence of Bakugo´s arm around your shoulder only was realized by you when Mina gave you two a knowing look and giggled.

“I didn´t want her to get run over by those fucking pricks” Bakugo defended himself and put his arm away harshly,

It was only then that you missed his touch, you didn´t mind him having his arm around you at all, it was cute...as was he.

Wait...no...no he wasn´t, he was your friend and that was it. He was too dense to notice your flirting either way.

The purple haired guy from another class was distracting you from your thoughts in the worst way, he just talked over them, not only that, he insulted your class, your friends.

“Could you shut the hell up?! You weren´t even there so stop fucking telling us why we were doing what we were doing! Accusing us of calling the villains is literally the stupidest thing you could do. It doesn´t make sense, we wouldn´t even get anything out of it. What happened was shitty, we weren´t prepared. But we got lucky, that´s all there is to it. I´ve never even seen you before so stop acting like we should know you, like you´re somebody worth knowing and listening to, cause you´re not. You´re just an arrogant asshole who´s never been confronted with real villains, with the real cruel world. Didn´t your mother tell you to shut the fuck up when you know nothing?!”you stomped away from Bakugo angrily to stand up to the guy, balling your fists.

The way you were trembling with anger, the way your eyes were glistening with rage, Bakugo wanted you to beat up that guy and he wanted to watch and cheer you on.

“That´s enough” Aizawa interrupted, shooing away the other classes before commencing your own.

Before the actual lesson started he informed you about the annual UA sports festival that you would attend for the first time.

The news got you excited, it was the perfect opportunity to show agencies what you were made of.

Naturally you and Bakugo trained together for the event.

“You´re fucking quiet today, everything alright?” you asked as you worked out in the gym together.

Bakugo just grunted, finishing his session before answering.

“Fucker from general class annoyed me, that´s all” he answered, gritting his teeth.

You scoffed, it was like he wasn´t even trying to hide the fact that he was lying.

“If you say so” but you also decided that it was better not to question it, you didn´t want to anger him further and direct his bad mood at you.

You wanted to cheer him up after all.

He seemed glum up until the beginning of the sports festival, barely talked to you, Bakugo seemed more in his head than ever and it was all because of you.

Of course he´d never admit that.

He´d never admit that he hated the way that purple haired brat eyed you, the way he smirked at you, the way Bakugo could hear his disgusting thoughts about you…

There was nothing he´d like better than smash his face in.

And no he wasn´t jealous like all of his friends said, he was just protective of his friend… a friend he didn´t want to be his friend anymore, but he was too proud to admit that.

He snapped when he saw Shinsou flirting with you in the cavalry battle.

“I like girls who can stand up to me, girls who have balls like you” he smirked at you.

You tried your best to ignore him, Bakugo was right, he was annoying.

Well, he was annoying ever since he thought he could just stroll up to you and insult all of your friends.

“So you´re gay then...” you mumbled, trying not to get distracted.

Your team already gathered a fair amount of points, you weren´t going to lose them so easily.

“No, just interested in you” he told you boldly, making you roll your eyes.

“Sorry, you´re not my type” you told him, hoping he´d get the hint and leave you alone.

Little did you know Bakugo was listening in on your conversation.

“What´s your type then?” Shinsou still didn´t leave you alone.

You chuckled before answering, were you really going to confess your crush to an annoying brat from general classes?

“Blond bitches who look like they want to murder everybody, but are the sweetest little shit on the inside” yes, yes you were.

Bakugo was startled a bit at your answer, who was blond? And who was angry all the time beside him? You couldn´t mean him, that would be insane.

“Like that guy over there?” Shinsou pointed to Bakugo who glared at him with a murderous intent but also blushed heavily when you smirked and nodded, confirming it.

“Yep, that´s him, that´s my blond little bitch” you smiled sadly, it was stupid really, thinking of him that way.

If only you had the guts to actually tell him. The only reason you said it out loud now was because you thought he couldn´t hear you.

In this moment Bakugo´s brain completely shut off, luckily the game was over now and the real fights could start, he really needed to clear his head.

You and your friends sat with each other and when each of your fights came on, you cheered for each other.

The fights went by quickly, time only passed slower whenever it was Bakugo´s turn and you felt yourself anxious for him to win.

“Let´s go, babe...” you mumbled as he fought against Todoroki.

Mina exchanged confused looks with the others.

“Babe?” Sero questioned.

You covered your mouth with your hands.

“I didn´t say anything!” you defended yourself, already growing red as a tomatoe.

“You guys heard that too, right?” Sero asked and Kaminari and Kirishima nodded.

“So you finally confessed to him” Mina sighed.

“No...wait! I don´t even like him that way! And even if I did, he´d never like me back, so...argh just shut up!” you rambled.

Mina giggled: “Sure you don´t like him”.

“You just called him ´babe´, (Y/N). I think that´s a pretty clear sign of you liking him” Kirishima apologetically scratched his head.

You sat down again, head buried in your hands.

“I know...” you groaned.

[acefrogmonarch]

Headcanons pt. 3

To get thus out of the way. I feel like Hinata wouldn't have as much pressure in the next life. Sure she might compete in the same things like Neji.

But wouldn't be ridiculed about it because she was very honest about it with her father.

Lunch - High school

Itachi sometimes skips college or his police academy and just sits on campus with them. He brings enough for everyone if he remembers them. But it’s fine because both Neji and Itachi text each other and plan ahead, just in case.

No one notices that these seniors are having lunch with sophomores. But then again, everyone looks like a senior in that group to the student body and staff.

The cafeteria was their place in the winter because it was too cold to go outside. Every other season was set outside in the courtyard. They have a place deemed “theirs” and refuse to share it with others. Absolute will fight anyone that goes near their table.

Naruto does football but only quarterback because he’s there to only throw.

He has a ‘dog’ named Kurama and always plays frisbees with him. Because it feels like throwing a shuriken. Naruto does tricks with them. Like throwing two at a time and trying to go the other direction but it never works out.

Sasuke does Track. Other things like Hurdles and long jump.

Naruto, at some point: So sasuke runs from his family and his gay problems.

Tenten versus Lee in any Martial arts. Usually mixed, but if they want any specifics, tae juan do is a good stress reliever, for Tenten.

Competitive archery Neji and casual archery Hinata. Neji also does Kendo along with Hinata; She still presses flowers in her journals.

Sakura would definitely be in S.T.U.D.C.O. like office aid, student rep, or any sort of authority position. She was left spiker until she became the Ace of the Volleyball team. Tried to do softball and hated it, then she joined the mixed baseball team and loved it.

Ino would definitely have been in every single program, at least once. Orchestra first, band next, Choir sometimes, did gynanism for fun. Hates cheerleaders, does step team.

Sai is a punk as bitch for any art club. All if not most of his artwork are in the library hung up.

Shikamaru hangs out with juniors that have a steady supply of marijuana. But he also enjoys a good cigarette more than marijuana because that shit fucks with him.

Choji hangs out in the culinary hallway with his girlfriend Karui, because she aspires to be a chief. The culinary teachers also know Choji because they let him eat the leftovers and he suggests new and exciting flavors for them. It’s usually good but sometimes there’s a bad batch.

Kiba would be like the kid you go to or one of the kids that has a side business, within the school. Like he has snacks, school supplies, or marijana. He’s your go to guy.

Kiba has Akamaru as a service dog within the school, since he cant sneak him in without being spotted. He was approved with a doctors note.

Shino likes computer programming. The essence of computers and how smoothly a program could run makes him feel accomplished and so happy. And when he finally gets it? Oof. Euphoria. 

He sometimes does web coding for fun and fucks around with his tumblr page.

Shino and Shikamaru both have a mutual respect towards each other. Because Shikamaru has this uncanny ability to find bugs and crash games on PC.

Naruto surprisingly built the PC for him, he manually updates new parts and makes sure everything is good to run. Shino makes mods for his games, like GTA V, Minecraft, GMod.

They stream it sometimes and it's just great content for themselves.

It used to be San Andreas but the game kept bugging out all the time, so they updated to V.

Sometimes both Naruto and Hinata dip the group during lunch to visit their little siblings. By blood or not, they both deeply care about their younger siblings. Naruto goes through the forest to visit Honomaru. While Hinata goes down the grave path and enjoys the creeks, nature around her.

They both end up at the same school regardless of how much it takes the other to get there but they both enjoy seeing the faces of their respected siblings. And it’s all worth it in the end.

Their missing hands.

Sometimes when Naruto is away in College he completely forgets that his right hand is perfectly fine and not at all gone, damaged, or artificial. So he just doesn’t use it until someone questions why he couldn’t grab something and they point out his arm.

Shikamaru: Why can’t you use your hand?

Naruto: Huh? What are you on ab-

Naruto finally notices his arm and lightly squeezes.

Naruto: I thought I lost it in the war.

Shikamaru: Wha-

Naruto: But I got my brother back. Where’s sasuwuke?

Shikamaru: Naruto, you saw him just yesterday.

Naruto: Yesterday! Why didn’t he visit me today?

Sakura: He’s a block away, Naruto. How about you visit him?

Naruto: That asshole! I thought he was still at the Wave village?

Sakura: No you idiot, he just sent a letter last week, he’s in the Sound now.

Again, once out of the trance, both are very confused. 

Hinata and Sasuke marry. Well almost. Both Sasuke and Hinata are very private and didn’t want to tell anyone about the engagement but have spent a couple of months planning. And when the subject of her wedding dress came up.

Hinata: How about a kimono, like before?

Sasuke: Huh?

Hinata: Yeah, like my wedding with-

Sasuke and Hinata look at each other and realize that they were about to marry the wrong person.

Hinata: D-do we continue?

Sasuke: I mean we don’t have a date, and the invites aren’t out yet. No one knows about this and we aren’t exactly marrying because we love each other.

Hinata nods in understanding and sighs deeply.

Hinata: Then who am I supposed to marry? And what am I supposed to do with the ring?

Sasuke: I don’t care as long as I get my sword.

Hinata: Yeah, whatever you want teme.

Hinata immediately realizes who she was supposed to marry and so does Sasuke.

They call up a certain pinkette and blonde and set up a meeting.

Hinata, still knowing her gentle first, from memory and will abruptly start training. If everyone tries to stop her, she takes it as a challenger and will fight them. She stops once Neji is there.

Hinata Hyuuga or Hinata Hyuga. She often calls the wrong punctuation for the Hyuga estate.

It's changed to only one u.

Since Hinata’s mother, Hana, is alive, they didn’t set a garden in her honor.

Hinata: Where’s mother’s garden?

Ko: Her what?

Hinata: Her garden, because she died.

Ko: U-uh, Hinata-sama.

Hana comes out to see what is taking them so long: What sweetie?

Hinata looks at her mother and smiles softly. She looks around again and tries to look for her training trees.

Hinata: Where’s my tree?

Neji follows soon after: What tree?

Hinata softly smiles but looks at the bow and arrow that is in his hand. Having come back from training, Neji is still in his gear and sets Hinata out of her trance.

Tiny Hinata misses her flowers. She does replant her garden but she also scared the ever living crap out of anyone because of her ominous message before.

Neji and Hinata accidentally outing each other's sexuality. While at the mall, they both notice an attractive couple and look at them approvingly. Then they turn to each other and nod their head in understanding.

Hinata: The Girl, right?

Neji: The Boy, right?

Now they often tease each other about boys and girls alike. Sasuke is often caught up on the teasing.

Since it’s mostly done in sign language and he can’t help when he notices the straight face that Hinata makes when she signs. “Gay sex” and points at Sasuke.

Neji curses and walks away, then Tenten, Lee and Hinata are following Neji like ducklings. All signing "Gay sex" Sasuke is losing his mind.

BI hinata and Neji.

Family reunions with the Uchiha!

Since there was no big massacre, everyone sort of lives and drives everyone up the wall with their attitude.

Sasuke can’t handle them so he brings Naruto. And everyone kind of loves Naruto, so they accept him as an honorary Uchiha.

Adult life?

Because I get that Hinata and Naruto married at like 21 and had boruto a couple of years later. So I really want Hinata to have followed the same feeling except a couple of years earlier. Same with the other girls and their pregnancy months. Because that’s hilarious. 

Neji and Tenten finally get together and him not dying. Just the potential wholesomeness about that makes me happy.

No one knows who the fuck Rock Lee hooks up with. Like he dips for 2 years and comes back with a baby named Metal. Tenten is super worried because Rock has a kind of pure innocence to him, in regards to sex.

Tenten: Did you get roofied? Are you okay? How did you end up with a kid?

Rock: What’s a roofie? Is that a drink?

Tenten: Kind of, but don’t worry about it.

Neji: What’s with the kid?

Rock: He’s my son, say hi Metal!

Metal is a baby and gurgles at them. They are very shocked, but not surprised. Because it’s Rock Lee. A musclehead that doesn’t want to stop training.

So anything is possible

Childhood ?

Naruto has his parents, Tsunade, Jiraiya, Kakashi, Obito, Rin and many others. In this life but one time when he woke up to the house being empty, he just started crying.

16, very confused and just sits for about an hour in one spot holding his crystal necklace. His Mom walks in with groceries, with his Father right behind her carrying more groceries.

Naruto: Oh thank god, I thought you guys died again.

Kushina: What, no, never again! Right Dear?

Minato: I’m not going to sacrifice myself again anytime soon, if that’s what you’re worried about.

Breaking out of the trance, they question themselves and their memories. More so, their past life.

Sasuke abruptly hates Itachi and sometimes tries to kill him in his teenage years.

Sasuke: You bastard! How could you do that to our clan!

Itachi: Foolish little brother. You still haven’t caught up to me.

Sasuke is in a kenta stance but nothing is in his hand and itachi is very confused as to why he is staring at Sasuke with his hands in a very weird hand symbol.

[marcoacesabo]

I just adore your Pizza Pie for my Eye AU!!! Please tell me theres a part 2! 😆

Marco returns to Spade Pizza at least once a month.  Once in a while, he goes bi-monthly because Ace moves around and gets a little closer to the Moby Dick that a quick fly would get him there on time.

He’s favorite is Pineapple Pizza, especially when Ace adds in stuff crust. Marco has tried everything on the menu, but he finds himself falling back on this order despite himself. 

Thatch had been right, this place food was worth the trip. Even if he wasn't bewitched by the owner he would still attempt to find time to come here just for the pizza.

 It’s gotten to the point where as soon as the staff sees him, they have his seat at the bar ready and his order being sent to the kitchen before he can even sit down.

Ace had joked he and Tobi were his most loyal customers since they were the only ones willing to keep track of where the restaurant went. Marco laughed nervously, terrified he meant he didn’t like him following and put off his bi-monthly trip twice just to be safe.

“Hi, Marco!” Ezra says. She doesn’t grab his menu from her little stand. “Go on ahead. No one in your seat but Tobi already here”

She gives him a little teasing wink edge with just enough ruthlessness it’s both playful and frighting. 

The teenager of seventeen, having joined Ace three islands into his journey back when she had been but a mere twelve-year-old. Of course, at the time she was just tagging along with her older brother who had been twenty and Spade Pizza’s second chef but she remained working ever since.

She also, finds it hilarious when people pin after her boss/second older brother. Apparently, in all the time Ace had sail not once has his attention been captivated by hopeful suitors. Ezra likes to watch fail and fight over him. 

Marco thinks she would make a terrifying pirate.

“Thank you yoi” He says refusing to let her see how much it upset him that Tobi - who’s real name is Sabo! He hasn’t forgotten- had already arrived before him. 

Ezra’s grin is all but feral. She waves a dismissive hand, turning to the family that just walked in. Spade Pizza is dock on a new island today, one with various size villages at a walking distance between each other. 

News of the exciting new pizzeria had spread fast. Marco heard three different people on the walk along, suggesting Ace’s restaurant. No doubt this has made Ace very happy.

Marco smiles just thinking about the glee that must be painted on that freckled face. 

 He follows the familiar path between the tables. It’s become all too familiar by now, but he likes taking the time to look at the decorations. Ace had told him once the restaurant was based off a bar he grew up in which makes it very important to notice all the little things. 

 The small details are what tells him the most about Ace. And Marco wanted to know everything about him. From little things like his favorite color to bigger ones such as his deepest fear.

Marco’s good mood- always brought on by any thought of Ace- suddenly evaporates when he spots the eyesore of fake red hair. Haruta- who once came with him- had said it looks natural but Marco knew better. 

There was no way Tobi-Sabo was an actual redhead. 

The man in mention turns his stole glaring at him from the corner of his eye. Marco meets the intense stare with one of his own, turning up his nose as he passes.  

Tobi-Sabo humphs then takes a large sip of his cup. Marco watches him do so because while the guy made his teeth grind, he did have a fantastic jawline. Marco’s own was covered in short stumble but it’s more round then define like his. 

Sometimes he was jealous others he wanted to reach out and trace the jawline with his fingers. It didn’t make any sense to him on the way seeing that this guy was his love rival but Marco chalked it up to him being very gay and left it at that.

“Hi, Marco” Ace says going over with a bright grin. In one of his hands, he’s carrying a mug which the pirate is sure carries his sweet tea. His steps are graceful without any wasted movement. 

Marco loves that. It’s a sign of a good fighter, and although he has yet to see Ace in action, he can tell it would be brilliant. 

“Hello, Ace.”  Hoping he came off as casual he leans, on one hand, making sure to give him a lopsided smile.  It’s one of his best moves and he’s rewarded with the way freckle cheeks flush just a bit. “Been busy these last few weeks?”

“Oh yeah! We get mostly families now. Adding that kid play area was a great idea.” Ace chirps placing the cup in front of him. His eyes are shining and suddenly Marco is frozen in his seat. “I’m thinking of adding a ball pit soon. Sea knows my baby brother loved those things so any good kid would too right?”

“Of course yoi” 

Ace beams at him. One thing Marco had notice was Ace’s love of his baby brother.  Score one for him!

“Hey, Ace. Look what I have!” Tobi-Sabo says suddenly. The two turn to find him waving a wanted poster at them. On it, Strawhat Luffy’s grinning face is flashing a new bounty.  “Your brother just got his bounty tripled!”

Ace rushes over, his expression between proud and worry. Marco watches him go with a sneer aimed at the very smug-looking redhead who is the only one about to see the blond’s look. “What did that idiot do now?” 

“He declared war against the World Government.”  Somehow Tobi-Sabo sounded a bit proud himself. He hands the poster over, smiling up at Ace with a piece of hair between his eyes. Marco knows he’s going to reach up and push it behind his ear the moment he has Ace’s attention- the  Pizzaiolo was too caught up inspecting his brother’s poster- and then lower his eyes lids.  

It’s a move he’s seen Tobi-Sabo do over and over again, in his attempts to flirt with Ace. It’ offense him on both the account that he’s flirting with Ace and that it makes something flutter in Marco’s stomach whenever he does.

Stupid amazing jawline bastard.

Ace makes a happy sound that has both pair eyes snapping to him and the blonds jaw’s drop at the absolute affection on his freckled face.  “Luffy! I’m so proud of you!” 

He looks up from the paper shouting for the whole restaurant to hear.  “Put this up immanently Ezra!”

“Right away boss!”

Ace is all but glowing in glee. He turns the pair of men.  “Dinner is on the house.” 

Then he does something he’s never done before. He winks at them. Tobi-Sabo makes an odd choking sound and Marco’s throat drys like a desert. Attempting to hide this reaction he reaches for his drink just as Ace turns around with a quick “I’ll make your food now! The usual for both of course” over his shoulder.

Marco is so busy staring at him, he completely misses the straw and ends up licking the air with his tongue in an ill-fated attempt to grab the utensils. He ends up spilling half the tea onto himself.

Tobi-Sabo snorts.  “Smooth”

“Go flutter your eyelashes at someone else Tobi yoi” 

“I do not flutter my eyelashes!”

Marco meets his glare with a mocking chin tilt. “Oh sure, you don’t. Maybe you just have something in your eyes each time you look at a guy then?”

Tobi-Sabo flushes then sneer back  “Maybe your neck gets so stiff all the time so you have to tilt your chin up all the time. You're old.”

“You take that back yoi!”

“Never!”

Ezra appears then carrying a tray with refills.  “Boys boys, you both pretty. Stop it already, table nine is complaining about the noise. We wouldn’t want my dear old boss to learn of your less than honest work would we?”

Both males freeze. Yes, Ace is proud of Luffy’s pirate career but it seems the freckled male couldn’t stand any other lawbreaker all that much. Marco wasn’t sure how far but he’s heard from his various brothers who all stop here at one point, that Ace firey temper mostly erupted when pirates or revolutionaries made a mess of things on the island. 

Besides wasn’t there that rumor of his grandfather being in the Marines? What if Ace got offended that he regularly injured those idiots?

“Behave” Ezra crackles. Flouncing away with chippy little steps. That brat.

“Truce.” Tobi-Sabo offers. It’s not overly surprising. They have been calling little truces for a few weeks now after that one terrible time Ace had caught them mid bickering battle and looked utterly devastated.  Marco never wanted to see that expression on his face ever again.

“For now yoi”  

Tobi-Sabo grimaces at him.  “Old man.”

“Lying wig wearer.”

“For the last, my hair is real!”  

[xoxoendoh]

Let’s Go Party! 💋

M-rated (but not quite explicit) excerpt from a super smutty, slightly cracky fic I’d been working on before we’d even started planning @genmaweek! But then, ya know, my autoimmune system effed me all up! 😅 So here’s a little (unedited) GenIno ‘oral fixation’ tease....

PS: mods @raizagabriel and @mrssakurahatake are 💯 partially to blame for this. 

-

She didn’t have to raise her eyes from the mirror and her painstaking contouring. She could almost hear his moping at the sight of the outfit she’d assembled for him.

“Genma, sex sells,” she snapped at his pouty reflection behind her. Sighing and closing her freshly-painted eyelids, she lowered her bronzer with a loud clack on the vanity. Blush would be next. “We agreed we’d do whatever it took to win. And we are going to win this time.” She pivoted slightly on her stool, staring him down over her shoulder. “…Aren’t we?”

He’d never admit it—not to a single soul—but he felt a chill run down his neck at her tone, the ice in her crystal eyes. Dammit. He bit down on his senbon. It’s like a fucking dojutsu!

She was right, of course. He’d known what he was signing up for over two weeks ago. …And he definitely owed her this one.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but somehow Halloween had turned into a sort of grudge-match between the ninja elites, only growing more competitive with the years.

And his girl liked winning...and winners. Which was why his rather…lackluster…presentation at last year’s annual party still burned Ino. However, a chance at redemption had come early this year in the form of a costumed benefit ‘gala,’ complete with a singles and couples contest, of course.

He almost laughed aloud.

‘Gala’ was definitely too strong of a word, he decided, throwing another glance at his…costume…where it hung, trying not to cringe. Whatever it was, they had a little extra incentive to win at the event: the occasion had been Sakura’s proposal to raise funds to expand the hospital—which meant that Sakura was taking this challenge deathly seriously, …which meant that Ino was nearly salivating at the chance to publicly destroy her best friend.

Plus, he had a little public domination of his own to deliver. Genma had nothing against Sakura, but she hadn’t won alone last Halloween—Kakashi had looked so damn smug up on that stage! Not many people knew it, but the Copy Bastard had a bit of a penchant for dressing up…and photography­.

No way in hell would he let his best friend and his girl win twice in a row! His fists clenched at his side.

Fuck me, I’m spending too much time with Kakashi and Gai…. He shrugged it off. Winning was just more fun. And winning with his girl… Well… “Yeah, babe.” Genma smirked around his spike, stooping low to wrap an arm around her waist, to smell the floral shampoo on those platinum locks, and whispered on her ear, “We’re going to wipe the floor with ‘em this time.” He waited for her glower to melt away and her blue, blue eyes to land on his in the mirror, then bent closer. “Sakura won’t stand a chance. Not against my blonde bombshell.” She giggled as he swept away her bouncy waves, still faintly warm from the curling iron. It was such a pretty sound, he almost didn’t want to interrupt it. Almost. The laughter froze in her throat as he dragged his lips down her neck, letting the cool metal in his mouth roll over her hot, bronzed skin….  

Ino let out a shaky breath under his touch, a natural flush flooding her face, suddenly unable to stay focused on her pristine reflection. He deliberately closed his teeth around the taut, bright-white bikini string at her clavicle, watching her eyes widen, feeling her gasp beneath his lips before he heard it. He gave the strap a little tug, letting his senbon only just graze her chin, …before he released it with a satisfying snap!

She yelped and squirmed against his arm, but her writhing subsided a moment later: she finally caught a glimpse of his expression.

Genma’s smirk had returned as he rested his chin on her bare shoulder, leisurely swizeling his favorite piece of metal. His fingers toyed with the taut, magenta spaghetti strap of her v-neck dress as he gazed at her flustered face; waiting knowingly, patiently for her reaction to his dexterous goading. It had been no easy feat, after all—managing two separate items between his teeth—but he never could resist a chance to remind his girl just how talented he was with his mouth….

And she never could resist a demonstration: Ino sucked in a breath through her very pink lips.

Fuck bragging rights. He’d rather have Inoany day.

Sucking his needle to the far corner of his mouth, he pressed a kiss to the little pink welt he’d left on her. “Hmmm…” The mark wasn’t quite pink enough to go with the rest of her carefully curated theme. He could fix that. With a quick, sucking bite and a drag of his canines, …before quirking an eyebrow at their reflection, radiating self-satisfied suggestion as Ino let out the quietest moan she could manage. His senbon wasn’t the only thing that jumped at that noise….

But with the rosy tint to her un-blushed cheeks and the way she huffily unwrapped his arm from her stomach, …he decided she was sufficiently reminded she wasn’t the only one who could call up goosebumps like some kind of jutsu. Besides, he knew she’d murder him in his sleep if he made them lose by showing up late….

His Yamanaka could read his mind with just a look: “I will kill you if I have to start over on my makeup!!” Still flushed, Ino’s eyes returned to her reflection, blonde ponytail swishing dramatically with the motion.

“Alright, alright.” His cocky grin widened as he stood, bobbing his senbon dangerously. “You’ll knock ‘em dead, …doll.”

Recovering herself, Ino nodded. “Damn straight! Forehead won’t stand a chance tonight!” She snapped open the lid to her bronzer once more, now wearing a rather evil smile as she grabbed her biggest, fluffiest kabuki brush. She swirled the brush on the golden-tan pigment and unhurriedly pulled down the front of her dress, wholly exposing her sequined bikini top and cleavage. She didn’t have to look up: she knew he was watching her every move as she carefully ruffled the brush in the between her breasts, starting from her sternum up. The corner of her pink lips pulled up as she reached for her favorite pearly powder and lightly dusted it over her décolletage; slowly, carefully highlighting the bare crescents of her breasts. “Now go get dressed!” She tapped the brush twice on each collar bone before retiring it.

Just as he was about to utter a sarcastic, ‘Yes, ma’am!’ and head to clothes she’d laid out for him, her hand snapped up. Before he could blink, she had his senbon plucked up between the fuchsia nails of her middle and forefinger, brandishing it with her command, “Just for tonight, you’re going to have to part with this,”—she twirled it around, the vanity lights catching on her manicure—“…Ken.”

He gaped at his girlfriend, then at his costume, then back at his girlfriend. Was this the price of victory? Was beating Kakashi and Sakura really worth the sacrifices? He’d accepted that his dignity was gone, but what…what the hell was he supposed to do with his mouth?!

--

🚨⚠️ Spoiler Alert ⚠️🚨

(They’re Malibu Barbie and Ken...and yes, the title is indeed borrowed from “Barbie Girl”!)

Hope ya’ll enjoyed! I eventually plan on finishing this fic, I promise!! It’ll be a two- to three-chapter little ficlet with GenIno, KakaSaku, ...and even some GenInoKakaSaku. I mean, there are only so many "private” locales to choose from inside a crowded, rowdy bar, right? ...And sharing is caring. 😏

[readyourimgaines]

Chapter One: A Change of Pace

This is the first chapter to a modern AU Les Amis fanfiction. A huge shout out to @board-certifiedbastard for helping with ideas and to @thatbarricade for helping with further ideas and beta reading. I hope you all enjoy this. You can also find it on my Wattpad. -Freddie 

P.S. Other than the gif being from the movie, it has nothing to do with the story. 

Combeferre paused the video game he was playing with Courfeyrac when his phone rang. “Enjolras!” he greeted. “What’s up?” 

“Are you busy?” 

“Not terribly. Why?” 

“Any chance I could spend the night at yours?”

“Tonight? That shouldn’t be a problem. Courf is staying over too, but you know there’s enough room for you too.” Ferre jerked the controller away from Courf when the other tried to press play. “You okay? You sound a little off.”

“I’ll explain when I get there. I’m on my way.” 

“Do you want a ride?” 

“I’d rather walk, but thank you.” Enjolras just wanted to hang up so he could cry for the next three blocks and compose himself during the fourth. 

“Thanks in advance, Ferre.” Then he hung up. 

As he walked, Enjolras allowed himself to cry but kept quiet so the people living in the houses nearby wouldn’t think anything of it. It was dark- around ten o’clock- so almost no one was out. Well, considering it was a Tuesday in July and most people had to work in the morning, he didn’t have to worry about being stopped as he walked. 

It took another 15 minutes before he got to Ferre’s apartment. The blonde took a deep breath, slowly releasing it before opening the door and walking in. When he entered, he heard the music of their video game stop, followed by the sound of footsteps getting closer to him. Ferre stopped in his tracks. 

“Who the hell hit you?” He tilted Enjolras’s head back slightly so he could get a better look at the still darkening black eye. 

“I came out.” Enjolras closed his eyes for a second. “I didn’t mean to. I got into an argument with my parents and I just..I blurted it out.” 

“You’re staying here.” 

“I promise I won’t be here long, I can-” 

“No. Julien, you’re staying here, meaning moving in. The guest bedroom is yours, anyone that sleeps over can have their pick of the couch or the chair in the living room. You having a safe place to live is my main concern,” Ferre explained. 

“I’ll get a job and help with the rent or food, or anything that’s-” 

“Enj,” Ferre placed his hands on the blonde’s shoulders. “One step at a time. For now, just breathe, okay? We’ll get things sorted out later. For now, unpack your stuff, wash up if you want, then come relax and hang out with us.” Slowly, reluctantly, Enjolras nodded. 

“Come on.” Ferre took Enjolras’ hand in his own and lead him to the guest room.

*****

“Is he alright?” Courf asked when Ferre came out from the guest room 15 minutes later, the shoulder of his t-shirt damp. 

“Stressed, exhausted, and shaken up a lot. But he’ll be alright. He’s tougher than he looks.” Ferre ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll get the rest of his stuff tomorrow, bring it here.” 

“I’ll text R; see if we can use that truck of his so we’re not flattening my car’s tires by piling more stuff on my shit.” Courf already had his phone out, fingers tapping rapidly.

“R doesn’t know Enj.” Ferre sat next to Courfeyrac on the couch. 

“It’s R. He’s just going to have fun storming a homophobe’s house.” 

“When are we doing this? Did he bring clothes, or is this gonna be the most terrifying wake up call his parents have ever gotten?” Courf chuckled. 

“He’s got two days worth in his bag.” Ferre said. “Holy shit do I want to knock out his father. I knew that man was worthless… I just didn’t expect this from him. Then again, I guess disowning your gay son sounds more noble than keeping your gay son locked in his bedroom- fuck.” Combeferre ran a hand through his hair. “At least I know he’s safe here.” 

“How do you and Enj know each other?” Courfeyrac had known Enjolras for about as long as he’d known Ferre. Combeferre was 19 and had graduated from High School in May. Every once in a while Enjolras would go to Ferre and Courf’s shared apartment to hang out or spend the night. He didn’t know much about the slightly younger blonde, only that he was into politics, LGBT rights, and could probably recite half of the DSM V. 

“He’s a year behind me in school. Going into his senior year.” 

“How old is he?” Courf wondered. Just starting into his Law studies, he knew there were certain things that had to be done if they had a minor on their hands.

“He turns 18 in August, so you aren’t going to say a word to anyone until then. He’ll be 18 before school starts again, so we just change his home address on the school info packets and there we go.” Ferre stood up and headed the kitchen. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Making popcorn.”

*****

When morning came around, Enjolras was already awake by the time Ferre and Courf woke up. They found him sitting on the couch, playing a muted video game. What made Ferre smile was that the younger boy was still in the pajamas he loaned him the night before. 

"Where'd the twenty on the table come from?" Courf asked groggily.

"A forward on rent…" Enjolras trailed off. "I- uh, it's most of my allowance." 

"How much is your allowance?" Ferre asked.  

“Twenty every two weeks.” Enjolras said as he stood from the couch. 

“I know it’s not a lot, but I’ll start looking for a job today.” Combeferre ruffled Enjolras’s hair as the younger boy glared at him. 

“If I wasn’t still half asleep, I’d fight you.” 

“You’ve got bed head anyway.” Ferre laughed a little before turning serious. “Like I said last night, man. You being safe is the most important thing right now. If you find a job, great. If not, we’ll figure something out, okay? I’m not going to kick you out into the streets. I’ve got you.”

*****

Grantaire came in through the backdoor of the apartment. “When are we storming this bastard’s house?” 

“Around noon so hopefully they don’t call the cops,” Ferre answered. 

Grantaire looked out the window and spotted Enjolras hanging the clothes he’d washed that morning. “Ferre? Why’s there teenage girl in your yard hanging the wash?” 

“What? Oh.” Combeferre laughed. “That’s not a girl; it’s Enjolras.” As he spoke, Enjolras turned around to get another shirt from the basket. 

“Fuck.” Grantaire whispered. “That’s not a girl, alright, that’s a god.” The comment was to himself but Courf heard it. 

“He’s not of legal age till next month,” Ferre pointed it. 

“I’ll wait.” Grantaire said quickly, a dreamy look taking over his face. “Damn. I want to paint him. You said his name’s Enjolras?” 

“Julien Enjolras.” Ferre nodded. “He insisted on doing chores… I keep telling him… Ugh!” He threw his hands up and walked away from the window. 

“He’s the one that we’re getting the stuff for, then?” Grantaire checked. 

“Yeah.” Courf patted Ferre’s shoulder. “We got him, bud; he’s good.” 

Enjolras came back inside, the empty basket balanced on his hip, and placed it just inside the door. “Hey,”he greeted. Enjolras had never seen Grantaire before. The dark haired man was slightly shorter than he was, stubble covering his jaw, and deep, blue eyes. 

“Grantaire.” Grantaire held his hand out for a handshake. 

“Enjolras.” He shook the outstretched hand with a faint smile. “Nice to meet you.” 

“You’re gonna be good here if we’re gone for about 40 minutes?” Ferre asked the blonde. 

“I’m not ten.” Enjolras replied, scowling. “I’ll be fine. I just don’t see why you can’t let things scab over a little before tearing off the bandaid and the stitches with it.” He shook his head and Ferre caught the look of despair in his eyes.

“Well, I for one, want to hit at least one of your parents,” R spoke up. 

“Oh god. He knows?” Enjolras looked horrified. 

“Just that you got kicked out.” Courf pointed out. 

“I don’t care if he knows I’m gay- the worst possible thing that could possibly happen with me coming out happened already .” Enjolras turned his back for a moment, ran his hands through his hair, and turned back. Any sign of annoyance hurt was gone from his face. 

“Sorry. What I mean is that things are probably only going to look up from here.” The only one that could see the smile was forced was Ferre. He walked to the living while Grantaire watched him with wide eyes. 

The artist turned to face the other two. “What the fu- He’s going into acting, right?” 

“Law.” Ferre corrected. Grantaire shrugged. 

“Same thing with less fame.”  

Ferre scoffed. “Don’t let Enj hear you say that.” 

“Would dancing circles around someone on their ignorance of the court systems cheer him up?” R had an odd twinkle in his eyes. 

“Uh...I don’t know.” 

“Hey Enjolras, what are your thoughts on the modern court system basically being a less publicized play?”  

Enjolras paused his game, looked up, and met Grantaire’s eyes with an incredulous gilt. “Do you have any idea how amazingly ridiculous that question is?”

[v4nnyzzz]

For some reason I'm super interested in the exploration of the idea idea of Syn and Billy pre-acquaintanceship. Billy is just this ball of unbridled rage and confusion, and he's taking his anger and confusion out on Syn out of all the victims he could choose.

(Keep in mind these are MY interpretations for MY version of Billy! Don't take it for gospel.)

Poor lad doesn't understand his emotions, why Syn makes him feel things. Things he's never felt with anybody, ever. He's never been the guy to stay with a gal after sex, always quick to dip once he's done; three words("see ya around.") and then he's off. But with Syn, he wants to stay and he wants to cuddle and he wants to be with. Never been one for physical affection, makes him come off a pansy. The distance and hard-to-get demeanour serves to make him more desirable, too, among the girls of Hawkins' High. His confusion and inability to comprehend why he likes Syn and the way he acts out with violence—that's the thing, it's sometimes physical with Syn and sometimes not—doesn't excuse him, not at all. Yet it's also interesting. He hates gays, doesn't he?

Billy doesn't like to question why, never ask him why. Why does he hate gays, indeed? What about them is so repulsive he despises them so? He doesn't know, he doesn't want to know, hates thinking about why he hates 'em, don't ask him.

Perhaps he hates them because he adopts Neil's beliefs early on in life. Neil is a parental figure after all, as much of a piece of shit he was. Part of him, unaware as he is, wants Neil's approval. Maybe if he hated them enough and made enough of a show of it around Neil, Neil would finally compliment him on something. But say that to Billy, he'll call you insane and tell you to piss off because the next time he sees you you're fucking deadmeat.

Billy's always doing his signature annoying little licking of his teeth whenever he's in contact with Syn. Goading him in the hallways, taunting him in PE, swiping Syn's soap and shampoo and tossing then back and forth between himself and Tommy. Dirty-blonde bastard believes he loves provoking Syn, relishes in it. It's only worth it when Syn reacts.

Syn can fight, but for some unknown reason he acts so timid and tame during school hours. Billy hates that, thinks he's a pussy. He's got all this potential but Billy has to fuckin' push him, do all the work! Billy hates that. Hates him. Syn makes him feel things, makes him think he's a queer, makes him question things. He hates it when he spots Syn hanging out with that harringturd fellow, doesn't know why. Just knows that he hates that sight with all his heart. Syn thinks Billy's got this obsession with him, sure seems like it really. Can you blame him?

Even when Syn figured out when best to shower(when everybody is gone and he has peace and quiet), Billy who had no business there, was there. Approaching Syn, nude, and taunting him. Billy's waiting for the next punch, the next "Fuck you want with me, Hargrove?", so that justifies his retort in response. Wants Syn to react, to lash out and lose his cool. He'll take Syn down, no problem, chubby boy's got meat on him but it isn't for fighting. Or so Billy assumes. He'll call him "Princess" in an attempt to insult Syn's masculinity, or lack thereof. Pretty boy, Chubs, Dweeb, Dork. Syn can hold his ground fully clothed, but when exposed in a space as big as the showers(they feel so big despite Syn being so cornered), Syn feels helpless. Embarrassed and ashamed, he is insecure about his appearance and that's entirely why he feels particularly distressed that Billy's invaded not only his personal space but his safe space.

Billy doesn’t think about why he wants Syn of all people to react so badly, says it’s so that he can get a good punch out of his system and then some. Feel a great sense of relief at having beaten the poor boy to a pulp.

Then there’s the incident where Billy tackled Syn to the ground, pushed him face-down and sat on him. Grabbed Syn’s arms and restrained them behind his back with just one hand, sitting atop of the brunet’s back. Syn was scared shitless, a fact which made Billy chortle sardonically(sadistic little shit he was). Syn hated having his body on the ground like that, it always made him anxious. Anxious that somehow, his ribs would end up fucked over by the hard surface. He doesn’t mind lying stomach-down on carpet or anything soft, but god forbid solid ground. Syn hardly cried in public, but this incident made him tear up and beg. With a man like Billy practically near crushing the poor boy beneath him, how could he not? Syn was in a gang, sure, but this was just one of the things he couldn’t handle very well.

Billy wanted to laugh in his face triumphantly, let go of his arms and grabbed his hair, but then a simple glance at Syn’s pained expression and tears streaking down his cheeks made Billy feel the slightest pang of guilt.

[whimsicalragnarok]

OC interview shenanigan.

I got tagged by @dreadhobo​ Sorry it took forever ^^;;

Tagging: Literally whoever wants to do it.  Have at it!

1. What is your name?

“Xaryes Whytefyre of House Targaryen.  Don’t worry, I won’t list any titles.”  Not that she really has any beyond a job description here and there: Knight Enchanter and Lady Inquisitor.

2. What is your real name?

The white blonde woman raises a brow before smiling, amused.  “It’s no secret that I am a legitimized bastard.  My mother called me Daena, so did my adoptive family.”

3. Do you know why you were called that?

She nods, “To save my life.  I no longer have a need of false name.”

4. Are you single or taken?

“Taken.  Very taken, as a matter of fact.”  Something she’s both pleased about and blushing.  Clearly, it’s the honeymoon phase.

5. Have any abilities or powers?

“I’m a mage of the knight enchanter discipline.  There’s also a rumor about being immune to fire and heat.  I... Have yet to test that theory.”  Though there is a great deal of morbid curiosity.

7. What’s your eye colour?

"They’re a very light violet but I mostly just say they’re blue.  Begs fewer questions.”

8. How about your hair color?

She pauses twirling an errant curl about her fingers and shows them off.  “Lets just go with blonde and leave it at that, yes?”

9. Have you any family members?

There are few better ways to throw a dead cat in a room than to ask her about her family.  She has doubts that it will ever be a fully happy tale.  “I came into my magic early enough that I only have a few memories of my mother and father.  Fewer of my brothers and sister.... Tevinter has it’s problems, but Halward Pavus is the closest thing I have to a father.  For better or worse.”

10. Oh? What about pets?

"I have a stable full of strange and wonderful mounts--I’m particularly fond of my dracolisks.”  She wasn’t as fortunate as Danyerys to raise a few dragons, though she’d jump at the chance.

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

"Hmm, that’s a long list but I suppose we could go with the big things: oppression, bigotry, slavery, willful ignorance, abuse of power... And onions.  Can’t stand the things.”

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

"I’m passionate about my education, it’s the one thing that can never be taken from you.  I enjoy exploring, camping, subterfuge... Oh!  And Cullen is trying to teach me the finer points of Mabari training and breeding.”

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

“I would say ‘sadly’ but that’s a lie.  Reasons varied: to save a life, save my life, send a message.  But sometimes, the message must be written in blood.”

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

"I believe we just covered that, yes?”

15. What kind of animal are you?

"You can assume I am a dragon like the rest of my family... Or the ones worth remembering.”

16. Name your worst habits.

”Oh no, we’re not going down that road.”

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

"There are a great many people I admire and look up to.  I was fortunate enough to study under Grand Enchanter Vivienne--her power, her style.  I was enamored and immediately tried to emulate her.  It was a glorious failure, but she was kind enough to tutor me.  After joining the Inquisition, I took it upon myself to let Cassandra and Cullen know that I wished to fight the way they did.  I suppose one could say I looked up to them as well, I still do.”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

Pansexual with polyamorous leanings.

19. Do you go to school?

“I’ve scarcely left.”

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“Well, I’m married now with a great stable of dracolisks and a number of mabari pups... Why not?”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

“If I do, I’d prefer not to know.”

22. What are you most afraid of?

“Being responsible for the destruction of what I love.”

23. What do you usually wear?

"I prefer something structured, but it depends on what the day holds.  I have quite the wardrobe.”

24. Do you love someone?

There’s that sweet smile with that same little pink blush.  “Of course.”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

"What?  What do you... NO!”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“Very well then.”  Though it’s clear she’d rather be elsewhere by now.

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

"It’s kind of up in the air.  I was born with no class, elevated to high class then back again.  Brought to Tevinter to live as high class, now I’m not certain.  As the Inquisitor, it leaves me in a bit of a gray area.”

28. How many friends do you have?

“I have many friends, though few close friends.”

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

"I’m rather partial to pigeon pie.”

30. Favourite drink?

“Dornish wine, though it’s very hard to get it here.  I won’t say no to a good brown ale though.

31. What’s your favourite place?

“Not that I don’t like Skyhold, but I love the Western Approach.”

32. Are you interested in someone?

“Define interest.”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

The look on her face is one that would stop a rabid dragon.  “You first.”

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“I have no preference between the two.  I’ll gladly swim in whatever is readily available.”

35. What’s your type?

“I’m a fool for blondes with blades and strongwilled brunettes.”

36. Any fetishes?

"Now if I told you that, we’d be here all day I don’t owe you an answer to that in the first place.”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

“Again?  Is this an interview for a matchmaking service?”

38. Camping or indoors?

"Depends on the location.”

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

"It was alright until we started with the incredibly personal questions.”

40. Now it’s over!

"Excellent, now be a dear and show yourself out.  I have work to do.”

[crownoyami]

Broken Down Blessing

Pairing: Sam/Gabriel

 Warnings/Tags: Dancer!Gabriel, Mechanic!Sam, Mentions of homophobia and violence

 Prompts Used: Aesthetic

 AO3 URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670689

 Summary: Gabriel’s boss is going to kill him. Not only was he running late to work but his car broke down. After seeing the mechanic who would be working on his car, however, Gabriel doesn’t mind is bad luck after all.

 Authors Note: I would really like to expand on this one, make it into a full story but I really don’t have the time right now. Right now, I’m placing it as a one-shot,

  @gabriel-monthly-challenge, @archangelsanonymous, @revwinchester, @archangel-with-a-shotgun,  @archangelgabriellives, @warlockwriter  @ttttrickster.

 Broken Down Blessing

 His boss was going to kill him.

 It wasn’t his fault, he had been driving to work on time when the engine made a strange sound. Not wanting to chance going on the highway he had decided to take the back roads to work, while it would be longer he wouldn’t have to drive as fast in case something happened. One large pothole he didn’t see later and whatever had been rattling under the hood completely let go. It was only by his quick thinking that he was able to make his way to the side of the road and not end up in the ditch.

 What should have been a quick call to Triple-A soon turned into waiting for half an hour, where he had to explain to someone over the phone what was wrong with his car. Like he knew, he wasn’t a mechanic, the most he knew about cars was how to drive and to check the fluids every couple weeks. The call for the tow truck was thirty minutes ago, and he was well past late at that point. Looking at his phone which was on its last legs, the battery blinking at him, Gabriel wondered if he could claim his phone died before he could call into work.

 It wasn’t worth it.

 Sucking it up, the blond dialed out the number for his boss, one of the few people who he had to answer to on a daily basis. He was right, Kali had not been happy to hear that he wouldn’t be able to make it to practice. He could thank his lucky stars that his face was already on the posters or she would have replaced him in a heartbeat. Sending a silent prayer of thanks that she didn’t want to go through the effort of finding a new face for the male lead, Gabriel said his goodbyes before hanging up his phone just in time to see the screen fade to black.

 He really needed a new phone with a half-decent battery life.

 Now stuck on the side of the road, Gabriel leaned against the side of his broken down car while he waited for the tow truck, hopeful they would have enough room to lug his ass or at least have a phone he could use to call someone to come and get him. What felt like three hours later, the blond saw the truck that would hopefully be his savor coming down the stretch of road. Once the truck pulled over to the side of the road, Gabriel got a look at who was driving. The man was older probably in his mid to late fifties, his brown hair mostly hidden under a ballcap with the company logo on it.

 “Let me guess, rattling noise and then it stopped?”

 Nodding, Gabriel watched as the man jumped out of his truck, walking over to his car and easily releasing the hood before going to the front and popping it open. Gabriel didn’t know what he was expecting, some magical steam to come up where there hadn’t been any before, but the man just hummed for a minute and then closed the hood, walking back to the truck he had parked in front of the broken down car to start pulling chains from the truck to the car.

 “It’s a common issue for this make and model. Once I get her back to the garage I’ll have one of the boys fix her up in no time. Shouldn’t take more than another hour once we get there, are you riding with me or is someone coming for you?”

 Watching as the man easily slipped the chains where they needed to go and switching the car into neutral, Gabriel answered. “It'd be great if I could ride with you back, my phone died while I was waiting for Triple-A to pick up the damn line.”

 The man huffed a laugh at that, hitting the switch to have his car pulled slowly onto the back of the tow truck. “Yeah, those bastards make you wait, probably in hopes that you find your own way and they don’t have to pick up the bill. Go sit in the truck if you want, this will only take another minute and then we’ll head out.”

 Since he already had his wallet and dead phone in his pocket, Gabriel did as instructed and hopped up the steep step to sit in the truck. It was clean, though there were a few clean rags that he could see behind the seat, Gabriel noticed how everything seemed tidy inside. There was the clinging smell of oil and metal but overall it was comfortable. Only a few minutes later the man opened the driver's side door and got in himself, turning the ignition and easily pulling onto the road.

 “Name’s Bobby, by the way, I called ahead, one of my boys is just finishing up his current job and will fix you up once we get there.”

 The ride was done mostly in silence, Gabriel while pissed at the situation, calmed down during the trip which was a lot closer than he was expecting. As they pulled into the lot there was the constant sound of a workshop, metal, and equipment, the smell of oil and grease wafted through the air, but Gabriel merely breathed it in. As the bay doors opened the blond nearly choked on his breath. There was a man shirtless with a rag tucked in the back of his pants, his arm was up on the hood of the car, as he dropped the hood down the muscles on his back flexed slightly, and Gabriel wondered if he could get away with breaking his car more often if this was the vision he would see.

 “Sam!” Called out the older man who had apparently stopped the truck and was making his way to the tall shirtless one. Gabriel didn’t know if he should get out of the truck, but a few seconds later Bobby was back inside, it only took a few minutes for the truck to line up and deposit his car right where the previous one the shirtless god had been working on had been. Jumping out of the truck once it was once again parked, Gabriel, followed Bobby into the office, trying and failing to catch another glimpse of the man who had literally made him forget to breathe.

 “Shouldn’t take too long, Sam will have it straightened out. Now, I do have some papers I need you to sign and I can do up the bill now if you like, though if you wanna wait until Sam’s done his inspection…”

 Gabriel shivered, there were a lot of things he would like this Sam to inspect. Shrugging, he nodded toward the desk which had a few papers and an older looking computer hooked up. “Nah you said it was a common issue, right? No sense in wasting time.”

 Bobby smiled slightly for a second, right before he pulled out a few forms, taking a seat behind the desk and typing on the computer while checking off boxes. It took about ten minutes for the paperwork to be done, being a new customer Gabriel had to fill out his information. Once the bill was settled, which Gabriel noticed was reasonably priced, the blond found himself sitting on one of the uncomfortable chairs waiting for Sam to be done with his car alone as Bobby had been called out for another tow.

 Thirty minutes total from when they arrived at the place the previously shirtless god came into the office, this time with a tight black muscle shit pulled over his sculpted chest. Standing the second he saw the taller man, Gabriel looked up until he caught the other’s gaze. The man was huge, easily over six feet and even more gorgeous up close. Now Gabriel could see those hazel eyes, could see the sparks of blue and green and brown all mixed in together, and they were beautiful.

 Gabriel had never been one to back down from what he wanted, but for a second he wondered if perhaps the man in front of him was a bit ‘too good to be true’. He had dated people like that before, who looked like they belonged in Heaven only to find out they were definitely going downstairs when they passed. As the tall man smiled showing a bit of a dimple, however, Gabriel found himself unable to care.

 “Hey, your car is ready for you if you want to follow me out back.”

 Even his voice was perfect.

 “Sure thing, I take it you’re Sam, right?”

 Gabriel followed behind the mechanic, keeping a couple paces away so he could ogle the man. He was unable to decide which view he liked better, coming or going when they were in front of his car and he had to tear his eyes away from the jean-covered ass in front of him at the sound of the other’s voice. Sam was watching him with a faint blush on his cheeks, but he didn’t seem disgusted. With his profession, Gabriel learned early on how to recognize the signs of a homophobe. While it wasn’t strictly true to all male dancers, Gabriel knew the stigma that all men in his profession were gay, and not everyone was accepting of that fact.

 Mentioning what he did for a living sometimes ended up with a busted lip and cracked ribs, if you didn’t know what body language to look for.

 “I left your keys in the ignition, Bobby told me that you already settled the bill… let us know if you have any more trouble?”

 The last bit was spoken as more of a question, Sam’s cheeks still a slight tinge of pink while he licked his lips. Humming, Gabriel let his eyes roam over the exposed skin of the taller man, knowing that he was being watched this time. “Oh, I’ll be certain to stop by if I need anything, promise.”

 Sam let go a slightly nervous chuckle but for a brief second Gabriel thought he saw the other eye him up. As Sam offered his large hand, Gabriel was certain to reach into his back pocket for a second before grasping it. He had taken out his card just in case he got to meet the tall man, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass.

 “Now that I saw you at work, maybe you would like to see mine? It’s good for one admission if you’re interested.” Getting into his car after letting the larger man’s hand go, Gabriel, winked at Sam before turning the ignition and slowly pulling away. In the rear-view mirror, he watched as Sam looked down at the slip of paper in his hand. It was a ticket, one of the few he was given to pass out to family, on the front was an image of him front and center along with the date and time for opening night.

 Watching Sam grin for a second before tucking the paper into the front of his jeans, Gabriel hoped he read the other right and he didn’t just waste the spot on someone who wouldn’t show. With a smirk, Gabriel made his way to the studio, if he was going to impress his mechanic he was going to need to put in a few hours of practice. Maybe his car breaking down wasn’t such a bad thing after all.  

 P.S. If you want to keep up to date on my writing add me to Facebook, Tumbler, Twitter or Instagram as CrowNoYami ;-) Also, if you want to see what I’m reading (I always review so you know what you’re getting into) I’m on Goodreads as well, the same name as always.