#like drawing trevor from the side is always hard because I end up making his whole tid stick out like in panel three (oops) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spinster-sisters · 4 years

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Precious. JYN

restaurant worker! au (idk its just gengeral slice of life)

TW: size kink (this is yunho we are talking about) boob stuff (this is me we are talking about, praise, dom! yunho, sub! reader. there is some unwanted inappropriate touching done by an older guy but it doesnt last long.

WC: 5k

The very first thing you noticed about the restaurant you now worked at was how hot the manager interviewing you was. Yeah, you had worked with conventionally attractive people before, but most of them found a way to make themselves unappealing through words or actions. Not Yunho however, a month into working as a waitress you had to simply conclude that there was nothing not to love about him. Of course, he was dashing, that much was obvious, but it was so much more than that, he was unbelievably considerate of others and fiercely protective of his crew, he had a million-dollar smile and could charm his way out of any problem with a customer. Not to mention he was built like a God with both the height and muscles to make your mouth water. Yunho was lucky, and things just seemed to fall into place around him.

Of course, you were aware of this, as he made it impossible to forget.

As time progressed you became more accustomed to your coworkers and better at your job, soon you found a place in the tight-knit group of friends that worked together so work was usually fun.

Except for today. You have been at this job for 6 months now and somehow, with the exception of Yunho, you found yourself on a shift solely staffed by newbies without a clue. And it was a very busy night. You had lost count of the number of times one of your fellow waiters had to call you over to answer a guest question or how many times it was you who had to apologize to them for their server's mistake but it was starting to get to you.

You had a brief moment right in the middle of dinner service where all of your tables were eating happily and you would have a moment to rest. You knew that if you stood there for a moment longer you would be called over by one of the other waiters so you quickly made your way over to the bar where Yunho stood at the POS system. You used his size as an advantage and literally hid behind him. Of course, people could still see you, but at least you weren't standing directly in front of the waiter's station where you would surely be bothered.

You heard the man laugh quietly, and though you couldn't see his face you bet he was hiding a smile.

"Rough night?" He questioned, talking in a way as not to draw attention to you.

"Of course I would get stuck on a shift like this. Not a single person on the crew tonight knows what they're doing! I'm surprised you're even here, I thought the gods of the universe loved you too much" you finished your mini-rant in a mumbling tone, rubbing your eyes before looking out into the dining room just in time to watch the newest crew member, a thin gangly boy named Trevor, spill a glass of water all down the front of an older woman, and you groaned.

Yunho chose to laugh quietly again before speaking up, knowing that now that there was a new disaster your conversation would be cut short once the newbie found you.

"Don't be so hard on them, you were that stupid when you first started," he joked before looking back down at his screen.

"No, I was not!" You cried, "besides why is everyone bothering me? You're the manager shouldn't you be dealing with angry customers? That is above my pay grade." You finish as soon as the young waiter spotted you and began to make his way over.

"Because I told them to," Yunhi replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why would you do that?" You asked thoroughly annoyed. Coming out from behind the man as Trevor was about halfway across the dining room.

Yunho laughed his brightest laugh. The one that made your stomach swirl with butterflies. He turned finally and looked directly at you, just before the waiter was in earshot he spoke,

"Because you're cute when you're grumpy,"

And that is another thing about Yunho that was impossibly unfair. The man was a relentless flirt. And that wasn't just to you, anytime he made eye contact with anyone it's like he can't hold back the wink.

Finally, your peak time was over. After the incident with the water, the rest of the rush seemed to pass without a problem. There were only about two more hours till you could crawl back into the warmth of your bed and give your feet a real rest.

You had just finish bussing a table when the door chimed again. You could hear the host talking from where you were standing, and her words made your heart sink.

"Well of course Mr. Miller! You want your regular table I'm guessing,"

And then the reply in a groveling tone,

"She better be here tonight, I am starting to think she avoiding me,"

The "she" in question was you. And yes you were. Mr. Miller was a middle-aged sleazy man who came in close to close every Friday night demanding that you serve him. For the past few weeks you have asked Yunho if you could have Fridays off like he did, but due to some call-outs both of you had to come in.

You highly considered running to the back and feigning illness to go home, but it was too late.

"There she is!" The gargley voice called out. Admitting defeated you finally turned to look at him, and with the biggest fakes smile, you could muster you replied.

"Hey, Mr. Miller,"

From the moment he sat down he was already laying it on thick.

"Well, aren't you looking as nice as ever? Some might think you trying something," he winked at you. You had to hold back your vomit. The man was and had been since the moment he first sat at your table 6 months ago that you were his alone, if you spent too much time at another table instead of entering him he would throw a fit. If you didn't laugh at one of his jokes about your body he would throw some line like "come on, give me a smile." If you didn't fully play into the delusion that you were interested in him he would push even harder. And he didn't even tip.

So you played along "Well you know me, I always gotta look my best for you," you said trying to be friendly to appease him, but already knowing damn well that tonight he was going to be insufferable.

You took his drink order and escaped from him as quickly as you could. The other thing you hated about him was how long he stayed. Well after he finished his meal he would stick around for a while watching you. So you weren't even surprised when you felt his eyes on your body as you walked away.

Yunho was observing this interaction from afar completely confused. Friday was one of Yunho's days off every week so he had never seen this before, and he must have looked confused because the host had walked over to him to explain.

"It's weird, right? A child could see how much she hates him but every Friday he comes absolutely convinced that it's her favorite day of the week."

It was getting late, and there were barely any customers left in the dining room when you finally took his empty dinner plate from his table. Not that he was ready to leave yet.

"You know, I've been thinking" he starts before you can walk away, "how does someone as pretty as you end up working at a place like this?" He asks peering at you from over his glass of water.

"Well a girls gotta pay rent," you reply with the fakest giggle ever.

"If I had you, you wouldn't have to work a day in your life," he said, "what do you say, honey, you could quit this place for good," he asked setting his water down and grinning at you dangerously. This scared you. You couldn't help but let your smile falter for a moment, this you couldn't encourage.

"I don't know," was all you could say trying your hardest to make it all seem like a joke. You instinctively step back from the table. In a brief moment, you noticed his hand moving twords your body but it was too late, he had already put his bent fingers on your leg and gripped it.

"Come on, you know I could treat you right."

You physically recoiled but his grip was strong. You were legitimately terrified. He had suggested on a few occasions before that he would wait for you in his car after you close and watched you, he knew which car was yours and could easily follow you. It was clear he didn't take no for an answer.

You didn't know what to do, you simply stood there petrified with the man's grimy hand moving up your leg. Just when it was going to reach the hem of your uniform skirt you were pulled away behind the familiar height of Jung Yunho.

"Sir if you touch any of my employees again I will have you kicked out." Gone was the playful tone that permeated Yunhos normal speech. Instead, he was icy and cold no room for negotiation in his voice. But that didn't stop Mr. Miller from trying.

"Calm down son, me and my favorite girl were just having a polite conversation." He said looking at where you were peeking out from behind Yunho, clearly expecting you to back him up. Instead, you looked anywhere but at him.

"No sir, you were visibly harassing one of my waitresses. it is inappropriate to talk to anyone that way much less if they are working and unable to walk away. If you leave now there will be no further issue." He said, still trying to speak civilly despite his growing agitation. In your desperation to not look at the man you glanced around the room. All eyes, both employe, and patron were staring directly at you. This made it so much worse and chose to look directly at Yunho's side profile.

"Who are you to tell me what to do! I am a paying customer and a loyal patron. I will talk to whom I please!" The older man's voice began to rise clearly not liking the way this conversation was going.

"That girl behind you has been my waitresses for 6 months and if I want to touch her I will!" You heard a fist slam on the table. You jumped and Yunho pulled you farther behind himself. You couldn't help but fist the back of his shirt in terror when you heard the scrape of a chair on the floor. Mr. Miller was now standing, trying his hardest to get in Yunho's face despite how the younger man towered over him.

"If you don't walk away right now ill beat your ass boy!" Miller screamed, getting as close as possible to Yunho. You practically cowered into Yunho's back, still clinging onto the fabric of his black dress shirt like you would physically unravel if you let go.

Yunho stood stoic while the man yelled. Afterward, he took a pause, before speaking.

"Trevor, call the police and tell them we have a customer harassing our staff and threatening violence." He spoke with a defining certainty, no room for an argument from Trevor or Mr. Miller.

Yunho's gentle hand took hold of your upper arm to lead you away from the man. He turned you away from where he stood dumbfounded, and lead you back into the office, and locked the door.

Yunho lead you to one of the two chairs in the cramped room fumbled around for a bit with the water cooler, bringing you a small paper cup to drink from before finally taking a seat himself. The room was small, from the way you were sitting and Yunho's long limb his knees brushed against your own.

You stared and him and he did the same to you, neither saying a word. The man before you looked remarkably calm for the ordeal he just faced but based on the concern in his eyes you looked shaken. You hadn't realized you were crying till the drops landed on the shaky hand still grasping the paper cup for fear of life.

"Please don't cry" was all he said at first. He was silent for a moment but your tears didn't stop. He shifted a bit and the knee touching your own brushed the outermost part of your thigh. He sighed.

"Why didn't you tell anyone how bad he was? Why didn't you tell me?" He spoke calmly. He didn't sound mad in the slightest but his words brought a dry sob from your lips. He looked almost scared for a second before correcting himself in a pleading tone.

"Please don't think I blame you in the slightest. What happened was not your fault," one large hand came to rest almost timidly on your leg.

"I just wish I could have stopped this before it happened."

It has been a few weeks since the incident. News of what had happened had spread around the staff quickly and although Mr. Miller had fled the restaurant before the police arrived, everyone on the crew knew that he was not allowed on the premises and if his car so much as pulled into the parking lot the police assured us that he would be escorted off the property for trespassing.

Yunho had insisted that you take the next 5 days off afterward and even when you returned everyone was walking on eggshells around you, not wanting to do anything to upset you.

The closest circle of team members made it a point to have outings every so often as many of you were quite close outside of work, and although some of them (with your best interest at heart) didn't think you should come out, it was once again Yunho who advocated that spending time alone in your apartment would do you no good. So here you were at approximately 9 o'clock outside a small bar/club getting excited about your first night of relaxation since that day.

Once you found your way into the building it wasn't hard to spot your group. Many of them were already drunk from pre-gaming and the rest of them were well on the way. It brought a fond smile to your face. When you joined the group there were cries of excitement and soon you all fell into the groove of the evening.

You had noticed Yunho the moment you walked in because he seemed to be the only sober one of the bunch. Of course, he knew how to party better than anyone, but tonight he seemed satisfied to just watch the rowdiness unfold.

You weren't drinking cuz of the practical reason that you drove yourself here today. After making your rounds talking with every one of your friends you found yourself gravitating to Yunho as you always seemed to do. He was sitting in a circular booth so it was easy to slide in next to him.

"Not drinking tonight?" You asked.

"No. Someones gotta keep an eye on these crazy people" he replied as jovial as always, instead taking a sip of what appeared to be coke.

"Well I guess I will have to help you then"

After a few hours of talking happily with Yunho while also keeping a close eye on your friends, you found yourself, once again knee to knee with Yunho. Except this time instead of sitting in front of him, you were almost sitting on top of him. You honestly had no clue how this happened, but he didn't seem to mind. Actually, Yunho himself was now sitting with his long arm wrapped across your shoulders pulling you even closer to his side.

"YUNHO" one of your fellow waiters fell into the space beside you, but with their lack of coordination they ended up bumping into you enough that if Yunho hadn't pulled you fully into his lap you would have toppled onto the floor underneath the table. But once the crowd of crewmembers was alerted of your guys' presence they all simultaneously pushed into the booth so there was no room to sit back in your spot.

You were blushing now, thankful that your friends were too drunk to notice how Yunho's arm was wrapped around your waist keeping you securely in place. As the talking resumed Yunho leaned down to whisper into your ear,

"This is all right? I can get them to move if you want," though it was probably unintentional Yunhos breath was sending shivers down your spine, which only got stronger when you finally came to realize how much larger he was then you, effortlessly keeping your body snugly against his chest tight enough to feel each breath he took, the hand wrapped on your waist was large enough to palm your whole thigh if he wanted to. And that thought was exciting.

"No, I'm fine," though you sounded a bit shaky you snuggled yourself even further back onto his lap to show your appreciation. He chuckled lowly in your ear before returning to the conversation. But your mind could not be further from it. You had never realized before how incredibly safe you felt with Yunho or more specifically in his arms and chose to instead focus on the weight of his hand on you, the subtle shifting of his thighs underneath your own as he spoke, and the deep rumble that moved your body with his own every time he laughed.

When it came time for everyone to go home you didn't want to. You didn't like the idea of removing yourself from Yunho's lap at all. But alas, it had to be done.

As the two sober friends, you two were talked with calling cabs and making sure everyone got home safely. Until finally the two of you stood alone on the pavement. You felt the need to say something.

"I don't think I ever thanked you," you said turning to face the man in the cold air. He turned his body twords you as well.

"You don't need to thank me for sitting on my lap, trust me the pleasure was all mine," he joked, and you couldn't help but chuckle along with him.

"You know that's not what I meant," you said in a small voice.

"You don't need to thank me for that either, trust me," his big smile turning smaller but sweeter. This confused you.

"What do you mean?"

Yunho sighed with a smile.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," was all he said. But your confused face brought more words out of him. He took a step closer to you leaning down and speaking in a quiet voice he said,

"You, have always been very precious to me, and that day was no different. I would go to much greater lengths to keep you safe if I had to,"

His words, although spoken in the softest tone struck you straight through the heart. You had always dreamed of being with Yunho but you had never imagined he felt the same way. He took another step, leaving almost no room between you.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, bringing a hand up to the back of your head. Words weren't forming so you chose to nod instead.

It only took a beat longer for him to lean down and press his plush lips into your own. Yunho wasn't one to beat around the bush and put all of his passion into the kiss, leading your lips with his own guiding your mouth to respond exactly as he wished.

You put your hands on his firm chest as his other arm circled your waist bringing you in even closer. Your mouths were so intertwined neither of you dared to break the kiss for quite a while, simply enjoy the feeling, but soon the need for oxygen won out. You pulled apart gasping, but still holding each other close.

You're not quite sure how exactly you ended up back at your apartment but that was unimportant, what mattered was keeping your mouth on Yunho's. You two had barely gotten through the door before your back was pressed against it in a quick motion.

Along with his considerable height, Yunho also had considerable strength, so when leaning down for you became uncomfortable he chose to instead wrap your legs around his waist and lift you.

In this new position, you were at the perfect height to move his lips to your neck. He found the perfect spot on it before sucking a dark purple mark into the skin, nibbling it a bit before licking it soothingly. The wet feeling of his tongue pulled a new sound from your lips,

"Yunho!" You whined into his ear.

He seemed overjoyed at this reaction and desperate to recreate it he rolled his hips into yours. You could feel his hard length pressing oh so perfectly into your clothed slit you desperate cry could probably be heard three doors down. The man was big.

"You sound so cute" Yunho giggled into your jaw, before pressing a sweet kiss into the skin.

One of his large hands slipped below the hem of your shirt and moved up to the cup of your bra. His long fingers groped your plush breast, holding the whole thing in his hand. The warmth of his fingers and the pleasant squeeze had you whining once again.

"Your so sensitive baby," he remarked, giving your breast another squeeze. In an attempt to keep your noises contained you reached out and pulled his head to meet your lips again. This kiss was much more desperate than the others both of your lips moving so fast it was hard to keep up, your teeth clacking together in the process. Yunho rolled his hips into yours again and you squealed into his lips.

Keeping you as firmly planted on the kiss as possible Yunho's hand fell from your chest back to your hips before pulling you completely off the wall and your arms instinctively clung to his broad shoulders.

Your apartment was only one bedroom so Yunho had bo problem blindly navigating the way to your bedroom. As soon as the door was open you were practically flung backward onto your bed. In an instant Yunho found his way onto your bed, once his back was pressed into the headboard Yunho took hold of your body and manhandled you onto his lap facing him, you were once again faced with just how big Yunho was. Both of his arms wrapped around your body pulling you close and positioning your heat directly over his dick, where an impressive tent in his jeans rubbed directly into you. The loose skirt you were wearing did nothing to cover your panties. You kneed into him finally taking the initiative to grind down repeatedly onto him.

"Awe, baby you look so cute like this, all flustered and needy. Look you're making a mess on me." You hadn't noticed how wet you were until this point but he was right, you were completely soaked through the thin material of your underwear, and with each roll of your hips, you were dampening his jeans.

"Yunho," you begged "please touch me,"

"But you look so good like this. I could watch this all day. Sitting pretty on my lap, just waiting for me to fuck you."

"Please?" You cried still desperately chasing the friction his jeans were giving your clit. He flashed his million-dollar smile before giving in, slipping one veiny hand into your panties cupping your whole heats in his hand for a moment, wetting his fingers before sliding two long digits into you. You showed your appreciation in a moan and clung to his broad shoulders again.

"Please Yunho! I want more. Please fuck me." You begged.

"Not yet, baby, I gotta open you up first. Don't want to hurt you do I." As he spoke he speaks the pace of his fingers scissoring them open inside of you stretching you wider. You bucked into his hand.

"My little baby is fucking herself into my hand. How cute," your exhaled loudly then dropped your head onto his shoulder tugging at his shirt begging him to remove it. Yunho chose to first use his free hand to slide your own top of your body before taking hold of your neck and pulling your upper body away from his. With your help eventually, his shirt was pulled from him leaving your view of his beautiful chest and bulging muscles open to admire.

You almost forgot about the hand moving inside of you while you ran your own up and down the Yunho's chest, trying to feel every bump and ridge there was. Your eyes were glazing over in wonder, but you were soon brought back to reality when another finger pushed inside of you, joining the others in your pulsing pussy. Your head rolled back in a moan.

"Like what you see baby? Because I am really enjoying this view." You were sitting so pretty on his lap your skirt had been pushed up and your soaked lacy panties matched your bra perfectly. In all the movement your chest was starting to spill out of your bra.

"Baby you look so fucked out and small right now and I haven't even done anything yet, are you sure you need me to fuck you?" He asked teasingly.

"Yunho, please," your nails began dragging down his golden skin leaving a trail of red lines, "please, please fuck me." Spewed past your lips. A wicked smile graced his lips.

"You want me to fuck you into the mattress?" He asked.

"Yes! Please!" This was almost embarrassing but if anything your flushed tone only made him happier.

"No, I don't think I will." He said pulling his finger out of you.

You whined.

Yunho undid his belt pushing his pants down just enough to pull his expressive length out of his boxers. You watched with bated breath as he stroked himself a few times before meeting your eyes.

"How about you ride me instead?"

You nodded eagerly almost lunging forward. Yunho helped support your body as you hovered over him, before lining you up and pulling your body down onto him. The stretch was painful at first, you could feel him deeper than anyone else had ever reached but you clenched down on him appreciatively. You took a moment to gather yourself, half expecting him to thrust into you, but he stayed perfectly still. You meet his eyes with your own going wide and he giggled.

"I'm not moving baby if you want to get fucked you have to do it yourself." As he spoke he pulled both hands off you, resting them on his thighs.

You sat breathless for a second longer, unable to form a coherent thought, but the sudden twitch of his dick inside you brought you back to the task at hand. Slowly but surely you began moving, lifting yourself till only his tip was inside you before falling back down. You both groaned satisfied but it only lasted a second before you repeated the action, and then again, and again, slowly building speed each time and realizing quite moans every time he filled you up completely.

You had now set a fast pace, you were unsure how long you could keep it but the growing pleasure filling your abdomen kept you moving. Yunho's eyes were trained on you, switching from your blessed out face, to your bouncing tits, to where his long dick was disappeared into your cunt each time it reappeared coated in your juries.

"Baby, if only you could see yourself right now," he spoke over the sounds of skin slapping and pretty moans, "honestly you look good enough to eat sweetheart"

His words of praise-filled your ears and encouraged you to move faster, desperately clenching on his dick feeling it twitch return along with his deep rumbling groan. Your hands were still firmly planted on his chest and you used this grip for support trying once again to increase your pace. Your thighs were beginning to burn but it felt too good to stop, not when you were this close.

"Yunho, please help me," you whined, your legs faltering in their attempt to keep moving.

"Oh? But you're doing so well baby," he said with an adoring smile watching your face.

"Please Yunho?" you asked running your palms down the ridges of his chest once again. Your building pleasure had started to plateau as you couldn't keep up the pace, your thighs starting to burn even harder. You were so close but you couldn't put yourself over the edge and if growing moans from the man in front of you were anything to go by then he was right there with you.

He seemed to consider this for a moment before chuckling.

"I guess my baby is just not strong enough to make herself cum. I suppose I could help with that."

You only had time to breathe a sigh of relief before you were thrown back onto the covers. Yunho's large frame loomed over you with a sinister smirk. You barely registered the anticipation in your body before he slammed his entire length back into you. Setting a brutal pace. You cried out instantly and your voice rang through the walls of the apartment like a symphony.

Each time Yunho's hips connected with your own he hit that perfect spot inside of you bringing more noises from you. One of his hands came down onto the mattress beside your head and the other took hold of your thigh using it to maneuver you into the exact position he wanted.

Now Yunho was grunting along with you trying hurtling both of your twords your orgasms at an incredible pace. Just as you were about to be thrown over the edge Yunho connected your lips again swallowing your moans. It only took one more perfectly timed thrust before you came toppling over the edge. Although your lips were still connected, it didn't do much to help the lewd sounds spilling out of you. The pleasure came from your core in waves, arching your back and making your legs twitch violently.

Not long after you came down from the high your body began pulling away from Yunho's thrust but he held you in place.

"Just a little longer baby, I promise."

And just when the buzzing pain of overstimulation subsided, Yunho filled pulled out of you and spilled his sticky cum across your body. He stood above you for a moment, you both were panting but you were clearly the more worn out of the two.

Yunho's eyes moved across your whole body once before meeting your own eyes.

"Your precious"

#yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez au #yunho scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions

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dionysusbabe · 3 years

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Grand Theft Auto Headcannons

Ive got some Unholy Trinity headcannons for you all! enjoy~

Love language

Michael

Quality time. Sit down and watch a movie with him, walk in the park, lounge by the pool, hell love it all. As long as you're around him he will always find himself deeply in love and so full of serotonin and dopamine that he will sometimes be unable to take his eyes off of you as he admires everything about you and this moment, wanting to snapshot it forever.

Franklin

Gifts. Now, hear me out, this man absolutely hates receiving gifts, he despises being the centre of attention (he almost punched a waiter who was about to sing happy birthday to him when he was 12), but giving gifts is his way of saying ‘I love you.’ He feels like sometimes his words aren't enough and will absolutely shower you with compliments, but when he hands you a (not so) delicately wrapped present, you can rest assured that man would go to the ends of the earth for you.

Trevor

Physical touch. Trevor Philips is a very touch starved man. Sure, sometimes he puts a bullet directly into someone's skull if they touch so much as his arm, but, if he cares about you, he will beg and plead for a hug or for you to simply hold his hand. This does, however, mean that he will 100% be hugging you any chance he gets, or will constantly have his hand in yours or snaked around your waist. If you ever seem uncomfortable or ask him to stop, he absolutely will. His love language may be touching, but he would never make you uncomfortable.

Best date ideas

Michael

Movie night. He’ll invite you over for a movie night and will let you pick any movie you want, though, keep in mind, he will have his mind less on the plot and more on small things like lighting, cinematography and continuity. Sure, he’ll try to hold his tongue on some of these things but sometimes he can't help but blurt out what's bothering him. If he ever goes silent while watching a movie, he’s most likely watching your reactions and admiring you again. Either that or you've actually captured his interest in the movie (which is extremely hard to do, so congrats!)

Franklin

Stargazing on the hood of his car. Franklin’s always been fascinated by space and stars, something about the greater beyond calls to him. Start him on a conversation about stars and you will NOT hear the end of it (though he will profusely apologise after). Combine stars with the next best things, you and cars, and you've got the best evening this boy could have ever dreamt for. Franklin will tell you about every constellation he can see and will lay right next to you so you can see what he sees. If you glance at him, you’ll see how the stars reflect in his eyes as they’re filled with childlike wonder, either that or he’ll have his gaze settled on you as he admires how you absorb the night sky above you both.

Trevor

Shooting range. It's not unknown that Trevor enjoys guns and shooting, something about the sound and feel really hits differently for that man. But being able to share his love with someone he cares about is the best thing ever for him. If you were to go to a shooting range with him, he would spend half the time with his arms wrapped around you from behind as he teaches you how to shoot or helps you steady your aim and the other half of the time would be spent challenging you. If he wins, he will NOT live it down and claim that you are paying for ice cream at the pier. On the other hand, if he loses, he will claim it was for some reason done by the hand of god, pout and demand you still pay for ice cream at the pier (though he will absolutely cave and end up paying for it). If he ever does lose one of these challenges, it's because he spent most of the time admiring how you aimed, stuck your tongue out, and then squeezed the trigger.

What’s their sleeping position?

Michael

Michael prefers to sleep on his back, occasionally shifting to his side where he faces towards the door. He once stated that “it helped align his back” which may be semi true, but you know deep down (and so does he) that it's really a last minute grapple for a sense of stability and manliness in his life. A form of dominance. He finds laying on your stomach or side to be inherently feminine, and though he explains that there is nothing wrong with that, he doesn't want to portray himself as feminine in any way, shape or form.

Franklin

His back with one arm outstretched for you to lay on and his other hand resting behind his head. Franklin will forever try and keep you close so he will always have one arm around you while he sleeps. When he’s sleeping alone he will put a pillow over his arm where you usually rest as a way to calm himself down and will pretend that the pillow is you (he uses the one you usually sleep on so it smells like you too, which he adores).

Trevor

It changes. Trevor sleeps on his back when you're around and lets you sleep with your head on his chest, that's on a good night at least. On a bad night, if you're with him, hell wrap his arms around you and hold you tight until he can fall asleep. If he’s by himself on a good night, he’ll sleep on his side and hug a pillow, imagining it's you. If it's a bad night by himself he either won't sleep, or will sleep on his side in a fetal position with a pillow squeezed between his arms and legs.

What’s something they like that may be surprising to others?

Michael

Trains. Ever since he was little, Michaels has been into trains. Thomas the Tank Engine was the show that calmed him down from meltdowns when he was little and every year up to his 13th birthday he would always ask for something related to trains. If you rummage through his closet, there's a box labeled “EXCLUSIVE” in bold black sharpie which is filled with old birthday cards that have train paraphernalia on them. Bring up trains around him in private and he will pull up pictures on his phone and ramble on for ages. Bring up trains around others and he will glare at you until you shut your mouth.

Franklin

Stars. Since Franklin was a boy he's always had a deep love and connection to stars and the deeper beyond. Something about the abyss calls to him on the daily. When he was a kid he would draw pictures of himself in rocket ships that would always be pinned to the fridge. When he was 7 he got his first telescope. He used it every single night and still does. His favourite constellation is Cassiopeia and his favourite star is Alpha Pegasai.

Trevor

Model cars. Something about those tiny wheels makes his little brain go brr. Trevor enjoys occupying his time by doing models, model cars are his favourite. If he doesn't have something to do he will end up picking at his skin until it bleeds, so he picked up model building. Ever since then his closet has been stacked with boxes that are separated neatly into two piles. “Complete” and “Unopened”. There's a special shelf in his closet where his completed model cars sit. Bother him while he's building and he will punch you in the jaw, its his favourite thing.

How they are in the DEED

Michael

Michael is rather a selfish lover. He tends to forget about his partner's needs through the deed itself, though afterwards will ask and prod if you're okay, if you enjoyed it ect. If you ever say that you didn't feel complete afterwards, he will promise you he’ll make it up to you next time, though if he keeps up to his promise you'll never be certain.

Franklin

He can be kind of needy through the deed. Being a switch is tough work. He will either be on top of you or will be doing whatever you request of him. Franklin is a rather even lover, he’ll do whatever it takes to please you while also making sure he, himself, is pleased. Franklin will constantly be asking if you're okay with what's going on throughout and will, beforehand, ask if you have any boundaries.

Trevor

You're going to need a safeword. Trevor will make sure you are pleased before him, sometimes he will even go without finishing himself just to see you squirm and melt under his touch. If you have boundaries, he will push them, though as soon as you say the safeword he will stop and make sure you're okay without hesitation. He just hopes that goes the same if he ever needs to say the safeword for whatever reason.

#gtav #grand theft auto #grand theft 5 #headcannons #headcannon #micheal de santa #franklin clinton #trevor philips #unholy trinity #gtavrp #gtavfandom #writing

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pitviperofdoom · 4 years

Text

TMA Fantasy Week, Day 2

Prompt: Fae

Summary: A faerie imprisoned by hunters receives a strange visitor. (Pre JonGerry)

Warnings: Imprisonment, forced obedience.

Part of a larger story I’m working on. I’ll be posting it on AO3 when I’m finished.

***

He smelled the she-wolf before he saw her.

When the door to his little chamber opened, he kept his eyes shut, as always. Why bother opening them? The hounds had become tiresome to look at of his own accord. If they needed him, then they could bark his Name and be done with it.

And so he smelled her first—fresh blood and grave dirt clinging to her fur—and heard her claws click on the cold stone floor, until the sound softened as heavy paws became lighter feet.

It was a shoe that nudged him, none too gently, before she spoke in a voice laced with a low growl. “Get up, Keay.”

He rose because he could not do otherwise, even with only a fragment of his Name in her teeth. Reluctantly he opened his eyes to find the she-wolf standing before him, windblown and bloodstained from a recent and successful chase.

That was odd. The hounds rarely hunted without consulting him first, wringing answers from his unwilling lips until they were satisfied that they knew their prey. But here she was, eyes bright and hunger sated, without his help.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Shut up,” she snapped, and his jaw clicked obediently shut. Satisfied, Julia looked over her shoulder and called out. “Bring ‘em in, Trev.”

The other hound entered, though he stayed back by the door. And then, a moment later, a third figure crept cautiously through the doorway, skirting Trevor before coming to a halt at a respectful distance from Julia. In an instant, their eyes were on him.

They were small, though anyone would look small while standing near the hounds. They were nearly plain as well, but for a few flashes of beauty. Dark brown eyes, deep and sharp with curiosity. Dark hair that brushed their shoulders, shot through with silver. Slender hands on delicate wrists, that would have been graceful if they weren’t trembling so. It only took a glance to know why—their skin was darker than his, but he could still see the familiar bruises that marked their wrists. The wolves had been rough with them—another prisoner to share his cage?

No—they would never bother keeping a human. What good was a human to them, when they had him instead?

Only… someone must have aided in their hunt.

“Here you are, then,” said Julia, with a dismissive flick of her hand. “You want a story? He’s got plenty.” The human’s eyes narrowed at this—not angry, merely thoughtful. “Don’t look at me like that. We’ve heard what you do with stories.”

(His ears pricked at that—a human with sharp and curious eyes, aiding hunters and asking for stories in return. That could mean nothing, or it could mean everything.)

“Count yourself lucky we didn’t just rip your throat out too,” Julia growled. “Save everyone else the trouble.”

The human carefully shifted their shaking hands behind their back. “That won’t be necessary,” was their polite reply.

“Good.” Julia nodded shortly. “That’s our end of the deal, then.” She shouldered roughly past them, knocking them neatly out of her way as she rejoined Trevor. From some hidden pocket within her coat, she drew out a familiar slip of old, weathered sheepskin between her fingers and showed it off with a careless wave. “Give us a shout if he gets mouthy, and we’ll set him right.”

“You’re not staying?” the human asked.

“Trevor hates being around him too long,” Julia replied.

“Gives me the creeps.” Trevor’s lip curled past the tips of his teeth. “Looks human but ain’t. If it wasn’t so useful, we’d have killed it ages ago.”

“Door’s unlocked, so come out when you’re done,” said Julia. “Don’t worry about him escaping—he knows better.”

As the wolves left the dark chamber and closed the door behind them, not once did he take his eyes from the scrap in Julia’s hand.

The moment they were gone, he sat down again, and with a rustle of fabric his visitor joined him at a distance. Their eyes never left his face, even as he refused to meet them.

“You want a story,” he said. It was not a question.

“I don’t know if ‘want’ is the right word,” the human replied.

“You’re the Archivist.” The words slip easily off his tongue—the truth, then. “Why are you here?”

The Archivist was silent for a moment. “I led prey to them,” they replied. “I helped them hunt. I asked for a story in return, but they didn’t want to give one, so they brought me to you instead.”

He smiled at that, wide and angry in the dark, clenching his teeth until he could imagine the taste of blood. “Did they, now.”

“Will you tell me one?” the Archivist asked.

It was a question, not a command, and even if it were otherwise, without his Name in their hand it would have no teeth. “No,” he replied, savoring the taste of the word like fine wine.

It was not freedom that he felt in refusing, but if he closed his eyes and imagined, it felt close. It was his favorite word, if only because he so rarely got to say it. Sometimes it felt as if gold would fall from his lips when he did.

It was worth the pain that always followed.

The Archivist looked confused, but not quite surprised. “No…?”

“Their debt is not mine to pay.”

“I suppose it isn’t.” The Archivist regarded him thoughtfully, curiously. Their lips pressed together firmly, as if holding back a deluge of questions.

He waited for his visitor to rise back up, call for their hosts and demand they make good on their deal by forcing a story from him. There wasn’t much he could do to defy the wolves that held his Name, but defiance still tasted sweet in the moment.

But the Archivist remained where they were. Either they thought they could cajole or force him themself, or they simply hadn’t thought of it yet. If that was the case, then he wasn’t about to remind them.

“Then we’re at an impasse, I suppose,” they said after a moment. “Unless there’s something I can offer you?”

He bared his teeth in a smile. “Your name, if you don’t mind?”

“I do mind,” the Archivist replied without batting an eye. “You may not have my Name. But if you like, you may call me Jon.”

He spread his hands wide. “Then we are at an impasse,” he replied. “Jon.” A simple name, but it sat nicely on the tongue.

“I suppose we are,” said Jon. They glanced at the door, but made no move to approach it.

Perhaps they were simply stupid. Rather unfortunate, for someone so significant to the Court of the Eye. Then again, it didn’t take much in the way of cleverness to collect stories.

“Was there something else you wanted?” he asked.

Jon shrugged. “It hasn’t been enough time for a story yet,” he said. “If I leave now, they might wonder why.”

That was not the answer that he was expecting. “And?”

Jon raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want them to rip one out of you against your will?”

He stiffened. “No,” he admitted, almost petulantly. Not stupid after all, then. “Don’t you?”

He didn’t like the way Jon looked at him after that, measuring him with a glance. “Not particularly,” they replied. “They’re the ones indebted to me, so they should be the ones to pay, not you.”

“Oh.”

From the other side of the room, the Archivist’s eyes remained fixed on him. “They have more than just your name,” they said, and though their voice didn’t rise at the end of it, he knew it for the question it was. “You’re a full faerie, or as near as you can be.”

He nodded. “Only half of one, by blood,” he replied. “But these things don’t really care much about blood.”

“Except vampires.”

“Obviously except vampires,” he snapped. The Archivist cringed at his tone, drawing in their shoulders to make themself even smaller. “What matters is power. And, for the Court of the Eye, knowledge. But I’m sure you already know that.”

“Yes,” Jon replied, a little hoarsely.

“Knowledge matters here, as well,” he went on. “That’s why they keep me.”

“They showed me that scrap she had,” said Jon. “They said it had your Name written on it. I thought it was awfully risky, showing me something like that when they want to keep you.” Their eyes narrowed in thought. “I’ll bet, if I called it right now without that slip in my hand, it wouldn’t work for me.”

It was not a question. In fact, the Archivist sounded like they were trying very hard to keep it from being one.

“What of it.”

Jon studied him for a moment longer. “Just curious,” he said. “In the meantime, is there something I can call you?”

The question puzzled him, though he didn’t show it. “You know my Name already.”

Their face spoke volumes—a tightening around the lips, to hold back something more telling. “I don’t think I’d like it if people used my Name, even if it was useless to them,” they said. “Is there something that you’d like to be called?”

The question tugged a “Yes” from him, though no more than that. He could have kept silent, and in spite of everything he knew about the world, he suspected that Jon would even let him. In the end, he replied, “Gerry.”

They smiled. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. “It’s a pleasure, Gerry.”

“No it isn’t,” he said, and the smile slipped from their face.

“No, I suppose it isn’t. I don’t suppose… is there anything I can do?”

“Steal my Name back from the wolves, and deliver it to me,” he replied. “You’d get a story from me then.”

He’d meant it as a joke, an impossible task posed to flaunt what little power he had. And yet the Archivist looked thoughtful, as if they were genuinely considering it.

“They’d rip you to shreds before you got close,” he said.

“Yes,” Jon mused. “I suppose they would. Considering how they’re trying to repay my favor, they don’t strike me as particularly fair.”

“Yeah, they’re big on foisting debts on others.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience,” Jon replied, and barely flinched when he showed his teeth. “From what I’ve seen, I doubt they won your name fairly in the first place.”

He ground his teeth. “I think it’s been enough time, don’t you?”

“Not really,” Jon sighed, but got up anyway. At the door, he paused and looked back. “One more question, if you want to answer.”

“What now?”

“Do you know if someone’s looking for you?” they asked. “Anyone you’d like to send word to? Anyone wondering where you are?”

“There’s no one.” Nothing was pulling the truth out of him this time, but it still poured hot and foul from his throat. “No one but the one who gave out my Name in the first place. My mother is gone, and my father died so long ago that I never even learned his name.”

Something sparked in the Archivist’s eyes. Not just emotion, but power—the very power revered in the Court of the Eye. He hadn’t expected that, and he couldn’t help wonder what his honesty had wrought.

The moment passed, and without warning, the Archivist smiled again. “Thank you, Gerry.”

They said it precisely and clearly, with obvious intention. It made him balk; the Courts worked in deals and trades and favors, and words of gratitude came with the risk of accepting a debt. He had to wonder once more if the Archivist was stupid.

But he wasn’t going to get an answer. Jon knocked on the door, and moments later Julia opened it.

“All done?” she asked gruffly.

He sat back, tired and vaguely curious. The Archivist was odd, odd enough to reawaken his own curiosity, long since buried after the wolves took his Name. It was a shame to see him leave so soon.

“Not quite,” Jon replied, startling him. “I have business with the Court and I have to leave, and I was only able to hear a piece of his story. I’ll be back later for the rest.”

What?

Irritation flashed in Julia’s eyes, but she stood to the side with an impatient huff. “Fine then. Guess the quarry you found us was worth a lot.”

The Archivist glanced over their shoulder before they left, briefly meeting his eyes. That strange light still shone in Jon’s gaze, steady and curious and otherwise unreadable. They were gone before he could properly decipher it.

Julia barely spared him a second glance before shutting the door on him and leaving him in the dark. He sat back with a sigh, thoughts running through his head with frantic energy. Had he caught the attention of the Eye? Had Jon caused it, or was he merely a symptom of that attention? Perhaps he would find out, the next time the Archivist came to visit him.

It was an odd feeling, to have something to look forward to again.

#TMAFantasyWeek #the magnus archives #jongerry #fanfiction #tales from the pit

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imkylotrash · 4 years

Text

Cornelia Street (You Look Happier Part 2)

Summary: Hardin leaves reader for Tessa and reader calls Zed to help her.

Warnings: Slut-shaming, swearing

A/N: I didn’t list pairing, because I don’t want to give anything away. Also I will publish a part 3 in the next couple of days, so I hope you’re ready.

Tagging: @justyouraveragedorkygirl

READ PART 1 READ PART 3 READ PART 4 READ EPILOGUE

The drive to Zed’s place is quiet leaving you to be suffocated by your thoughts. At some point, Zed reached over to grab hold of your hand and now you’re clinging onto it like a lifeline. How is it possible to exist when your heart has decided to stop beating? It’s as if you feel nothing but pain anymore. Pain and anger towards Hardin for staying when he didn’t want to. For going behind your back and confirming all your insecurities. Molly had been right that day; he wasn’t your Hardin anymore, he was Tessa’s. And it broke you.

“Drink some water.” You’re sitting in Zed’s apartment with no idea how you got from the car and inside. You accept the glass of water but make no effort to drink it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks earning nothing but silence from you. Somewhere in your brain you register his concern but right now you can’t focus on anything other than your breathing. Grief has paralysed you in the worst way possible and you hate it. You hate how weak you’ve turned over a silly boy.

“Say something so I know you’re still there,” Zed says trying to lighten the mood.

“Tessa,” you rasp hoping it’ll explain your behaviour, hoping that he’ll put the pieces together and understand what’s happened. Understand why you’ve fallen apart.

“Please tell me he didn’t.” You nod your head and Zed stops talking because he knows the kind of pain you’re in and he knows you need to process this slowly. So you sit there for a long time before you finally look over at Zed. He’s there and he’s ready to listen but you don’t want to talk. You want to do something that will help absolutely nothing and you’ll cry about tomorrow but you’re not thinking clearly as you crawl over to sit on his lap.

“Make me forget him.” It’s cruel really because you know he’s had a crush on you since you started college but the world is cruel and you just don’t have it in you to think about feelings that aren’t your own right now.

“Y/N, I can’t.” It’s meant as a rejection but he doesn’t mean it. You can tell that he wants this to be true and real. He wants you to want him the way he’s wanted you for such a long time but now you’re this broken puzzle that might be too hard to solve.

“Please.” The word comes out as a whimper and if you’d been more coherent you’d probably be mortified by how pathetic you’re acting right now. But you’re not and Zed is fighting a losing battle.

“I want this to be real, Y/N. I want to make you feel safe, but not like this. I don’t want to be second best to him.” He’s speaking faster than normal trying to get his point across before this goes too far. You’re kissing his neck and ignoring every word he’s saying. As you grind your hips, you feel him move beneath you.

“Hardin will kill me for this,” he says and the name brings you back to Zed’s apartment. You scramble off of him instead sitting as far away as the sofa lets you.

“I’m sorry,” you say not ready to realise how close you came to ruining your friendship with Zed.

“I get it. I’m a safe option.” His eyes refuse to meet yours but you both know it’s the truth. Through everything Zed has been a safe habor that you’ve turned to over and over whenever you and Hardin argued. It’s not been fair on Zed but you haven’t known how to stop searching for him. He’s your best friend but he’ll never be more. It hurts to know that you can’t give him what he wants.

“You’re not an option, Zed. You’re my best friend. You’re the person I need.”

“But not the person you want,” he interrupts. There are no words that could help him right now so you reach over and take his hand in yours the way he did in the car. It’s support and love even if it’s not the love he want. In a perfect world, you’d want Zed. The two of you would get married after college and have kids at 30 when you’ve both had time to live your own lives. But it’s not a perfect world and you don’t want Zed like that. So instead the two of you sit together holding hands as your hearts are breaking fast and slow all at the same time.

It takes you two weeks before you’re ready to return to campus. Zed lets you crash at his place because first and foremost you’re best friends and this is what best friends do for each other. And you both know that Hardin will show up at your apartment to see you.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks as you’re turning a corner.

“I don’t know. I’m scared I’ll meet him but I also want to see him. Does that make sense?” Your faithful companion just nods knowingly as he always does. There’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you and it’s been the only thing keeping you sane.

“I’ll meet you after first period, okay? Wait for me.” He kisses your forehead softly before leaving for his morning classes. As he turns around, his face connects with Hardin’s fist.

“What the hell is this?” he yells looking over at you. There’s an anger in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He looks good, even had the time to add a tattoo to his sleeve. It pisses you off that she was probably holding his hand while he got it.

“Walk away, Hardin.” You’re so mad you’re shaking but you just don’t have it in you to have a screaming match with Hardin right now. Instead you turn your focus to Zed who’s slowly getting back on his feet.

“Are you okay?” Zed nods and wipes a little blood from his nose before coming over to stand next to you - loyal to the bitter end.

“Are you seriously with him now? Didn’t take you long to replace me!” He spits out the words and you can tell he’s hoping they’ll break you all over. Hardin is nothing but not persistent in his methods.

“What I do is none of your concern anymore, Hardin. You made sure of that yourself.”

“I’d dumped you sooner if I’d known you were such a whore.” It’s like you’re standing on the other side of the road observing it all from a distance. His words are meant to cut you like knives but you just feel empty. These last couple of weeks have drained you and now you have nothing left to give. Why he’s even bothered now that he has Tessa is a question you have no answer for. You’d figured he would be too busy with her to even notice you.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Zed intercepts ready to fight Hardin right then and there but you spot security slowly walking towards the three of you. Hardin is once again making quite a scene but you and Zed don’t have the same kind of protection from the Chancellor that Hardin does. You can’t risk getting caught up in this.

“You already broke me, Hardin. I have nothing left for you to take so please just go back to Tessa.” Without another word you take Zed’s hand and leads the two of you away from college not even caring how it looks to Hardin. You’ll have to miss another day. You can’t face those hallways again - they hold all the small touches and sweet nothings shared between you and Hardin.

“I’m transferring,” you tell Zed as you’re approaching his car. You haven’t thought about it before but after seeing Hardin you’ve realised that it’s too much for you. The college holds too much for you to face it again. The kind of heartbreak Hardin caused you is something that time won’t mend.

“Me too. I don’t want to see his face ever again.” You look over at Zed and realises that you’re not the only one Hardin’s hurt. You remember his last relationship that Hardin turned into a game.

“Where should we go?” you ask.

“Seattle? I’ve always wanted to go there.” And just like that it’s decided. Of course there’s all the paper work when you decide to switch school in the middle of a semester, but you both manage to transfer within a month. You find a crappy apartment not too far from campus. Even though you’re both thinking about it, none of you mention Hardin again. You apply for intern jobs and even manages to get an interview at Vance Publishing. It’s a new branch but you already know the company. It’s the one Hardin left right after first semester but for once the reminder of Hardin doesn’t cut your heart. So when you’re standing in front of the huge building Wednesday afternoon, you can actually breathe.

“Hold the elevator!” you yell walking faster. Thankfully, the guy in the elevator holds the door for you.

“Thank you.” He smiles as you walk past him into the elevator.

“Are you new here?” he asks pressing the button for the 3rd floor.

“I’m here for an interview,” you reply and take a second to look at him. He’s pretty. A cute smile and judging by his vibe and choice of clothes definitely no tattoos. He’s nothing like your usual type and definitely nothing like Hardin. Something about that draws you in.

“Oh, I hope you get it then.” It’s a sweet thing to say really and it calms your nerves.

“Thank you.” The elevator opens and he steps out. The moment gone.

“I’m Trevor by the way. I hope to see you around.”

#hardin scott x reader #hardin x tessa #hardin scott gif #hardin allen scott #hardin scott #hardin scott blurb #after imagine #after blurb #after gif #after #after we collided blurb #after we collided imagine #after we collided gif #after we collided #awc blurb #awc gif #awc imagine #awc

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 19 - The Masters

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, what are they up to?, 3.6k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

Willie was back in Vegas, wandering through the street late at night. He was just leaving the hotel, like he’d just dropped Alex off by the front doors, knowing that he was saying goodbye and couldn’t stand to leave it on a heavy note. Still, he moved onward without looking back. He was just going to enjoy the memory that he had of the green eyes and the waves and the way he’d been nestled against Alex’s chest with fingers in his hair and wearing the hat and feeling like a handsome prince at the look on Alex’s face and - yeah, he was just going to cherish it forever. Without ever having another chance. Rock stars didn’t keep promises like that, no matter how much they meant to. The second Alex made it big, he would forget him, Willie was sure.

The journey from the hotel back to Caleb’s house was incredibly short. He looked back toward the street in bewilderment, unsure what could have happened. Sure, Willie knew his shortcuts, but he’d definitely clocked that journey numerous times.

As he walked up the drive, he rounded the corner and to his horror found the shed already ablaze. Stepping back in terror, Willie stiffened as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, Caleb loomed over him with a monstrous look in his eyes. He seemed to grow larger by the second and his face became twisted and grotesque. Then he opened his mouth, letting out a cry of rage as his eyes began burning a fiery purple and he raised his arm as if to strike.

“I told you to clean up this mess!” he cried.

Running away from the house, Willie was only just able to escape his attempted blows. His feet seemed to slam against the pavement, and his breathing was too loud. Looking up momentarily, he somehow had already arrived at the diner, and that was in flames too. Willie couldn’t help the small cry of distress that released from his throat, almost like a sob. Changing direction, he eventually came to the hotel and watched as it was already crumbling apart as it burned. Fear and confusion consumed him as Willie continued running with tears streaming down his face. The bodega was on fire too. And so was Roy’s. Anywhere that Willie tried to run to roared in fiery destruction.

He was sitting inside the truck, but it was empty. Nobody sat in the driver’s seat - nobody smiled back at him. All Willie could see was that the truck was burning but he couldn’t open the door to escape. He tried rolling down the window but the flames got too high and he had to roll it back up. The door wouldn’t unlock or be forced open. Willie could feel himself suffocate in the confined space, feel his pulse rising. The ever encroaching doom of never making it out shrouded him like it was its own force.

“Willie!” A banging could be heard on the window and Willie looked up to see Alex frantically trying to open the door on the other side. Pressing his hands up against the glass, Willie shook his head, telling him it was no use. Alex just kept tugging on the handle and pounding his fist on the window in desperation, and didn’t seem to be affected by the flames consuming the truck as he did so. All Willie could hear was his name striking against the glass with every fistfall, but no change in Alex’s ability to save him. The agonizing sound repeated, slowly fading back as everything darkened and became more muffled, and then finally his mind regained consciousness.

Sitting up in bed, Willie sucked in a breath and huddled himself close. Taking a few seconds to try and let his pulse calm down, he looked over and found Sheldon had been curled up in sleepy contentment against his stomach, and was already stretching to find another place to sleep. Picking up the cat and cuddling him into his chest, Willie scratched his favorite spot behind his ears, hoping to convince him to continue sleeping at his side. Hearing Sheldon purr helped slow his excited heart rate.

Thank goodness it had just been a nightmare. But why had it been so terrifying and bizarre? He had already been through the loop with the one that went backwards, and now having everything go down in flames and being teased with the hope of rescue? Willie didn’t think he wanted to know what it meant. It was beginning to be a pattern now that dreams like that had a significant meaning. He was afraid of what the meaning of this one might be.

Sheldon took advantage of his loosened grip while he was caught up in his thoughts, and scuttled off of the mattress into the dark. Sighing heavily, Willie laid down and pulled the covers over himself, trying to get back to the same level of warmth and comfort as before. Nothing was bringing him back into a state where he could easily drift back to sleep. The wonder of the ocean in Alex’s green eyes didn’t help this time because it only brought the echo of his voice crying Willie’s name. He could only focus on missing the feeling of his cat curled up beside him.

“It’s gotten worse,” Alex said over the phone. Willie was just finishing another shift at the record store when he’d gotten the call. It’d been a few weeks since their first date and Alex hadn’t even been able to call in that time. He didn’t know how he’d been able to handle months without him after that whole day filled with absolute bliss. It was great to hear his voice again.

“How much worse?” Willie asked.

“He’s been doing this thing where he criticizes the tiniest things, but then he uses every bit of persuasion to make us nod and say yes to what he wants. At first we fought it, but now we just do what he says and then hate it later. It sucks.”

“That’s how he started with me,” Willie told him. “I didn’t know any better, so it was worse.” So much worse - his mind had been so addled with the loss of memory and new information had been frightening for a while. He’d merely been a toy in Caleb’s puppeteer hands.

“Yeah, and now he’s watching us like crazy. He’s never stayed in L.A. this long. He’s there from the second we’re in the studio to when we leave.”

“Huh,” Willie replied. “I think I might be to blame for that.” A cruel memory arose of all the times he’d ignored Caleb’s imposed curfew and then been asked what he’d been up to.

“It doesn’t even feel like we’re doing music anymore,” Alex lamented. He’d been fired up when he had started the conversation, but the way his energy flickered out pained Willie too much. Alex hadn’t had a chance to be open with him about why music was so important to him, but Willie was able to take a few guesses.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Well, the guys and I have been talking…”

Willie rode in the back of the van with Alex and Reggie as the guys carefully rolled up into the alley behind the studio. They all remained hushed, but the anticipation in the atmosphere was electric. Each of them scrunched their faces at the sound of squeaky brakes as Bobby slowed to a stop and parked beside a door. He hadn’t spoken a word for the entire drive, but Willie shared a glance with Alex, both of them full of nerves and adrenaline, and they each held in awkward laughter. Luke got out as quietly as he could, made a careful sweep of the premises, and then unlocked the door before signaling everyone to get out.

“So you want to be in on this?” Alex asked. He had just told Willie their plan to get back at Caleb and it immediately got him excited.

“Of course!” he told Alex. “I’d give anything to make him pay back for everything he did.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Alex said. Willie could hear his smile from the other end.

As they each carefully entered the back end of the studio, Willie caught the stench of cigarette smoke in the first place they entered and covered his nose. While they continued further in, Bobby lit a flashlight.

“Ow!” Reggie immediately covered his eyes from being accidentally blinded. Bobby winced as he moved the beam away from his face.

“Sorry!” he whispered. “It’s hard to tell what’s what in here, it’s so dark.”

“When are we going?” Willie asked.

“Next Sunday night.” Alex told him. “Caleb should be out of town that weekend. Plus we have a few things that need to be ready first before we go for it. But I wanted to make sure you were totally in before we put all the plans together.”

Willie smirked. He wasn’t sure if Alex was aware he was tickling his rule-breaking side, but he wanted to think that maybe he did know. For someone as sweet as he was, it sure was nice that he didn’t try to stifle that side of Willie.

“Are you and the guys gonna pick me up?”

“Yeah. We’ll come around...eleven? Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, that works perfectly.”

“Okay. I can’t wait to see you.”

Willie had to suck in a breath at those words, already wishing he didn’t have to wait an entire week.

“Can’t wait to see you either.”

They had gone all out with wearing black together and everything. Luke had been really vocal about it because Willie guessed he’d always wondered what a heist would be like. Did this count as a heist? It didn’t involve taking money or precious gems or anything - not even stuff that didn’t already belong to them, technically. In any case, it was definitely somewhere past midnight and due to the circumstances the guys had to break in to get what they wanted.

Willie followed them through the hallway, intrigued. This was where Alex had been spending a good deal of his time. Where Caleb had come and continued to spread lies. What the man wanted with them Willie was still unsure of, but he wondered if he’d been part of drawing Caleb’s attention to them. He didn’t like the possibility of having dragged them into his mess, but maybe it would be over soon. Alex put a hand on his shoulder and he immediately responded with an encouraging smile as warmth spread all over him.

Luke was shuffling through the key ring. He hadn’t explained where he’d gotten it from and Willie honestly didn’t care to ask. The fact he had one instead of picking every single lock was impressive.

The door opened to reveal the studio they’d spent the past months recording in and Willie looked around at all the strange things he’d never imagined inside. So many different kinds of microphones and cords, stands for all sorts of things, smaller rooms to the side, headphones hanging everywhere. It seemed so different from just playing a show somewhere. Alright, maybe that was the point, but still, Willie was in wonder about how this somehow meshed with Alex’s rock n’ roll world. He didn’t want to laugh, but this place seemed so...wrong for the guys of Sunset Curve. Not because it was just any recording studio, but this particular one made him picture a bunch of guys in pressed business suits making some easy listening record. He would’ve tried to tell them not to sign here even if Caleb weren’t involved.

While he looked on, the rest of them began taking out all of their equipment. Quickly, Willie aided Alex in carrying out different pieces of his drum set. He had to be especially careful carrying out any cymbals so they didn’t make any noise, moving at a ridiculously slow pace. The rest of the guys packed up their guitars and amps and they managed to somehow place everything in the van so it fit tightly and securely.

“Is that really everything?” Willie asked, peeking inside once they’d hauled everything out.

“We’ve done this plenty of times,” Reggie told him. “Not the breaking and entering thing, of course, but the whole packing all of our stuff into Bobby’s trusty van.” He patted the side of the van affectionately. “It’s like Tetris!”

“Her name is Thelma, thank you,” Bobby teasingly corrected before he disappeared back inside the studio.

Reggie got flustered as he followed him. “I...wasn’t calling her Tetris…”

Willie chuckled as he shut the door and brought up the rear. This time the guys went into the booth behind the studio and began looking into every box and drawer they could find. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but Willie still joined them anyway. What were masters even supposed to look like? After filtering through everything they could, Luke and Bobby stood up.

“I’m not finding anything,” Luke said. “Anybody else?”

Alex rose from where he’d been kneeling over a box.

“Nothing.”

“Gonna be honest, I have no clue what I'm looking at,” Willie told them. Reggie peeked over into the box he’d been rifling through. After a few seconds, he shook his head.

“Nope, nothing there either.”

“Ahh, I figured they wouldn’t be here, but I thought we should look anyway, just to cover all our bases,” Luke admitted.

“Where else were you planning on looking?” Bobby urged slightly. He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost one already.”

“Everywhere man, what else?”

“Luke, we can’t spend all night here,” Alex said.

“Okay, guys” Luke defended. “We can split up or something and get things done twice as fast.” The guys looked around at each other, although it was obvious what the pairings would be.

“Okay, Alex, Willie, you two can go together. Bobby and Reggie, come with me.” Willie instinctively took Alex’s hand as they looked at each other, both smiling a little. “Just don’t get stuck in a closet together or something.”

“Really, Luke?” Alex remarked. “Us? In a closet? Choice words, man.”

Luke only rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smirk as he followed Bobby and Reggie. Alex turned to Willie, also shaking his head at his friend.

“Okay,” he said. “Come on, let’s go.”

Hand in hand, Willie followed Alex into another storage room, having difficulty getting his mind off the now-forbidden closet scenario. Maybe they could find the masters and then kill some time? He’d gotten a chaste little smooch as he’d entered the van and plenty of knee touches, but as they were already in the middle of breaking in, why not take the chance to make out in a closet while they were at it? The kind of story that would make for later? The memory? It was too tempting.

“I won’t lie, I definitely thought you guys knew where these masters would be,” Willie told Alex as he pulled open drawers full of file folders. Alex sighed as he shut the drawer he’d been searching.

“I should’ve told you we were guessing at best,” he said. “But we really did think they were most likely going to be in the mixing booth. Or, I guess, all of us excluding Luke.”

“What are you guys going to do if they’re not here?”

Running both hands through his hair, Alex thought for a little bit. It appeared their plan lacked a great deal of thought toward contingencies.

“So next time you tease me for forgetting what busses are, I’m just gonna bring this up - ”

“Shut your face,” Alex laughed, playfully shoving at his shoulder, making Willie giggle. “This isn't even close to that. Anyway, I guess we would just have to come up with a new plan. I mean, no one would even know we came tonight as long as we don’t get caught.”

Willie placed his on Alex’s back assuringly and for a moment they simply shared a look of hope. His hand slowly trailed from his back and held the side of his face, gently rubbing his thumb along Alex’s cheek.

“We’ll find them,” he insisted softly. Placing his hand over Willie’s, Alex’s eyes emanated gratitude and he gave a small smile.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, returning the tender tone he’d been given. Shrugging casually, Willie shut the last drawer, making sure everything remained as it had before. He trailed Alex as they headed back out and almost immediately clashed into the other three boys.

“So we’re thinking it’s in...the office,” Luke told them.

“The office?” Alex asked in disbelief, apparently understanding what that meant. All the guys looked at each other with uncertainty, none more than Willie himself.

“The office?” he repeated. “Is that supposed to mean, like, Caleb’s, or something?”

“You guessed it,” Bobby replied, gesturing toward him dejectedly. “And it’s the one that Luke definitely doesn’t have a key for. So unless you’re good at picking locks, we came here for nothing.”

Willie wasn’t sure what it was, but at hearing Bobby say that it was like lightning struck in his mind. Sitting back on his heels, he looked between each of the guys, landing his gaze on Alex last.

“Actually, I think I can,” he told them seriously. “I’m not sure, but...I don’t know how, but I think I know this.”

“That’s a better chance than none at all,” Luke said with the slightest hint of confidence. “Anyone got something we could use?”

“Ope!” Reggie immediately began digging into the pocket of his pants and shortly procured a bobby pin. As everyone stared in bewilderment, he merely shrugged. “I had to do my sister’s hair this morning; I think it turned out pretty okay.”

“Alright, well hand it over,” Luke demanded. Reggie passed it to Willie and they all gathered around the door of Caleb’s office.

Kneeling and licking his lip, Willie concentrated on placing the bobby pin correctly into the lock, pressing his ear against the door and listening as he slowly turned the pin back and forth. A couple minutes of distilled silence passed as everyone held their breath, watching him carefully work with the lock until they all heard a satisfying click and Willie cracked a wicked smile. The whole band exhaled in relief as he turned the handle and pulled the door back.

“Come here,” Alex said, pulling him into a quick kiss with both hands before venturing into the room. A very twitter-pated giggle let loose from Willie’s throat that he tried not to dwell on because of how embarrassing it must have sounded. Reggie smirked as he passed them, nodding in approval.

“Awww, yes!” Luke cried as he found what he’d been looking for: the master copies of their newly finished album. According to Alex, the mixing and rendering had only been finalized a couple days before and they had more of Caleb’s stamp of approval on them than anything close to their songs. They couldn’t finish ruining his business without them. This was only half of their plan, anyhow.

As Luke filled his hands with the precious records in victory, an alarm immediately began blaring into everyone’s ears. They all looked around in panic before they all rushed toward the back door of the studio again, hands over their ears.

“Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!” Luke repeated, clutching the masters to his chest.

While they were almost out the door, Reggie stopped as he caught sight of the recording booth again, an odd look in his eye.

“Reggie, come on, we’ve gotta go!” Bobby called to him.

“No, I’ve gotta do this!” Reggie shouted back, heading inside the booth. Willie watched in confusion as he unbuckled his jeans while leaning with his back against the glass of the booth. He lowered the back of them until he could press his entire rear end up to the window, trying his best to make a print in the glass. Bobby sighed in exasperation and shook his head as he rushed to get behind the wheel of his van.

Reggie finally left the window, struggling to pull his jeans back up as he hurried toward the van again. Alex stood back as he climbed into the same seat that he’d had before, and then made to clamber inside himself before bright lights illuminated them from behind. Turning and raising an arm so he couldn’t be blinded, Willie stood petrified at what he saw.

Caleb Covington stepped out of his vehicle, a look of fury that struck his very core. Suddenly, Willie could feel flames beginning to devour him, and the way the man had leered over him in his dream made his blood freeze. He’d once been completely trusting of this same creep who had his gaze fixed on him with pure hatred. He could hear the pounding on the glass. He could also hear the sound of his name.

“Willie!” Alex tugged on him harshly, dragging him backwards into the van and slamming the door shut before Willie even realized what had happened. Snapping out of his trance, he looked up as Alex was gripping his hands tightly and Bobby floored it out of the back of the alley. He couldn’t help but stare back toward the fading headlights where Caleb’s figure was still silhouetted in a desperate stagger, and he thought he heard that same cry of rage.

He felt a sensation on his hands and looked down to see Alex planting a kiss on his whitened knuckles, rubbing them over with his hand. His face was full of concern, and a bit of his own fear mirrored back. They kept wary eyes out the back window of the van, but ultimately didn’t see Caleb following them. After a few blocks, Willie finally felt he could let go of the breath he’d had trapped in his lungs and pressed his forehead against Alex’s. That had been terrifyingly close, but they’d made it out. That’s what mattered.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #sunset curve #alive au #willex #willie #alex mercer #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #caleb covington #viva las vegas #vlv #the masters #fiddlepickdouglas

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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Gryffindor Extensive Dating Neville Headcanons:

A/N: Y’all keep finding and requesting the characters I’m so soft for. Here’s my baby Neville who is an absolute sweetheart of a character and should be appreciated more. Requested by @maybenotjellytot (and it’s not letting me tag you, curse you Tumblr)

You know the drill, this is super long and super cute

You meet on the Hogwarts express. He’s stammering and clinging to Trevor for dear life

He’s so shy and blushing and tripping over his words that you can’t help but giggle and introduce yourself

“Neville. Me. I’m. Yes. Leville Nongbottom” You giggle again and he’s bright red.

“Nice to meet you Neville,” you smile brightly.

You sit together on the train ride and it’s sort of awkward but a good awkward. He starts to open up a bit about wanting to learn magic and that his Gran is expecting a lot from him.

You can sympathize with your overbearing well meaning pure blood grandfather

Then you’re both sorted into Gryffindor and it’s nice to have a friend. You find friends in the Golden Trio as well, but you’re always partial to Neville because he’s the first one who had the courage to say hello to you

Since you’re in the same house it means you have all of your classes together. Potions is rough for both of you and Snape just terrifies Neville—sure he was creepy but you didn’t really understand it. You still defended him though, even if it ended you in detention a lot

“You really don’t have to do this,” he stammers, meeting you after detention. “I don’t mind,” you smile and so does he.

You love Astronomy and he loves Herbology and you two are the biggest dorks. He knows everything about plants and you know everything about the stars

Soon you’re learning to ride brooms. It comes easy to you and Neville breaks his wrist. You take him to the infirmary flipping Malfoy off as you walk away sure Hooch took five points from Gryffindor for it but it felt good. The little prat

“There’s always one,” Pomfrey sighs and resets Neville’a wrist. You stay by his side all the while, reassuring him that he was amazing anyway.

“I can’t do anything,” he groans. “Some Gryffindor I am. I don’t belong here.” “Neville that’s not true,” you frown. “You belong in Gryffindor as much as Nifflers love gold.” You both blush at your sudden defense of him.

And honestly it’s nice to have a friend. When the weather turns colder and you’re freezing Neville gives you his gloves and tells you not to worry about it.

You study for exams together. It takes some time but Neville finally catches on to Potions when you (re)teach him the lessons. Snape doesn’t bother you like he does Neville you always want to ask him about it but never find the courage. Some Gryffindor you are, you think

The Christmas Holiday comes and you both hug each other goodbye, promising to write to another and his grandmother and your parents catch sight of the interaction and they tease you both about it all the time

“Mum he��s just a friend!” You whine. “Gran she’s just a friend! That’s all!” Neville dismays. Neither guardian is convinced.

You get Neville a Herbology book and spend time drawing a few of his favorite plants perfectly for Christmas and he gets you a monocle that works like a telescope and shows the night sky any time of day

You go to Quidditch games together and you both put in the same amount of effort into Gryffindor spirit but something is always slightly off to you about the house system that you don’t really tell anyone

You sneak up to the Astronomy tower most weekends and one time Neville catches you saying “you shouldn’t be here you’re going to get in trouble” you take his hand and pull him up the tower and let his hand go, marveling at the stars

“Aren’t they wonderful?” You sigh. “So many stories are written up there Nev, and every night they smile down on us,”

Neville doesn’t understand your passion for the stars but he loves the way you talk about them, like you knew each of the characters in the stories that the stars told

One night you find Harry and Hermione in the Astronomy tower and you’re surprised. Now thanks to Malfoy you all have detention.

In the Forbidden forest you’re paired with Neville and Hagrid and you both set off, terrified. Neville hated the dark and you hated not being able to see the stars. You hear a noise from behind you and jump into Neville arms.

You’re both blushing and awkward. As you apologize and he stammers something about not worrying. Gee some Gryffindors you two are

You’re the one who finds Neville after Hermione immobilizes him and after you undo the spell, you two go straight to McGonagall. Again, you take his hand and pull him through the halls on the way to McGonagall. When he explains what happened, you beam because of course he’s a Gryffindor how can he not see that?

At the End of Year Feast he’s awarded the ten points that causes Gryffindor to win and you hug him without a second thought and now you two are blushing and awkward again and everyone laughs at the two of you.

You write to him over the summer and it’s really nice to have him to talk to. He’s a bit more honest in his letters than he ever was actually talking and laments quite often about his grandmothers expectations and that he’s afraid of failing everyone—especially his parents.

That threw you off guard because you didn’t know anything about his parents and he clammed up about the matter whenever you brought it up so you dropped it a long time ago. You still didn’t ask because well, you figured he’d tell you when he was ready. You also tell him that he could never fail you

You send him a photo of the little garden you’ve started because maybe listening to him talk all those nights made something actually stick and you weren’t half bad at gardening and a bit of Moon Lace (a flower that only blooms under the full moon) for his birthday.

Boy does his grandmother ship you two so hard “Ask her out Neville! Be a man! Treat her with respect! I’d always knew you’d find some lovely girl,” “Gran we’re twelve,” “Nonsense dear boy. When you find a girl like that you don’t let her go,”

Now Neville’s worried about being around you because he feels pressured and maybe he does actually like you but he’s sure you only see him as a friend and he doesn’t want to lose you because his grandmother is right, he doesn’t want to let you go

You meet him on the Hogwarts Express again and you two sit together and all of those worries seem to fade because you weren’t just his friend you were his best friend and he wouldn’t trade that for anything

You’re also sitting with another girl—Luna Lovegood. A first year who has her head in the clouds who then gets sorted into Ravenclaw and you three become the “Silver Trio”

When every girl is enamored with Lockheart, you roll your eyes and scoff and Neville feels slightly satisfied at that.

Neville can tell that you’re saddened because you don’t have Astronomy this year, so he tries to cheer you up by sneaking you to the Astronomy Tower whenever he can manage

You spend those nights telling him stories about the ancient gods and heroes that the stars hold, and he gets lost in your words wondering what it would be like to live back then

When the Chamber of Secrets opens you’re a bit more scared than you let on. The only one who knows that is Neville.

When students start to get petrified, you’re hardly seen away from Neville because you don’t want to be next

Malfoy teases you about it and boy does Neville go off on him surprising everyone even you a bit because you knew he was brave but standing up to Malfoy was a different matter that bordered stupid and you’re a goner because if you doubted your feelings for him before you didn’t now

Neville isn’t the best with comforting people so he normally just ends up getting you plants/flowers. You have a small garden on your bedroom window filled with anything and everything and you care for and name each of them

Third year comes and this time you’re enamored with the new DADA teacher and Neville doesn’t get it and neither do you really. But there’s something about Professor Lupin that just draws you in. Of course you have no idea yet that he’s a werewolf and thereby connected to the moon and stars of which you adore

You love Lupin a little more when he teaches the Laughing Spell and makes a fool out of Professor Snape on Neville’a behalf

But now you’re sort of really worried because why in the world the thing Neville fears most Snape?

When your boggart turns into a mirror Neville worries too because what in the world is that supposed to mean?

It’s a late night in the Astronomy Tower that has you both blurting out “why is that your boggart?”

You both look down, scared to admit what’s deep inside. Neville gives in first and begins to explain.

“Snape was one of You Know Whos most trusted in the first war... my... my parents were—”

“Neville you don’t have to tell me if you’re not—” you quickly cut in

“No, I trust you. And... it’ll be nice to have someone understand,” You take hold of his hand and listen earnestly while he tells you about his parents and how they were driven to insanity by Death Eaters and that Snape reminds him of that every day because all he sees is bravery of his parents that he can never live up to and the one who forced it upon him

You pull him into a hug and just hold him close. You had no idea, but now that you did, it out the world into perspective for you a bit more.

“What about you?” He asked softly. “Why...?”

“The mirror,” you sighed. “I... I hate my reflection. It... it reminds me that I’m never enough. I’m not enough for my parents... or my grandparents... or other people. That I’m not good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, brave enough...” you hug your knees. “Nobody wants someone who’s broken. No one wants a freak,”

“I do,” Neville’s words are sure and confident. “You’re more than enough for me. You’re... you’re perfect...”

There are tears in your eyes and you wrap your arms around him.

Now when you by the off chance catch your relflection in something, Neville is normally right beside you and all your fear and worries about not being enough fade over the next few years

The Fat Lady’s portrait gets attacked and you take Nevilles hand without thinking because it feels secure and safe. You side by side with Neville in the Great Hall that night and you’re thankful for the night sky that’s projected on the ceiling

You can’t sleep so you watch the faux stars. Neville sits up with you and asks you to tell a story because it calms him and you and now there are a bunch of students and some professors listening to your stories.

You’re absolutely outraged when Snape steps in to reach DADA but you quiet down when Neville shakes his head, silently pleading not to draw attention to yourselves. You sulk and dive into the lesson because it’s very close to the lore you’re used to reading.

Then you almost drop your quill because you realize why Snape has you reading up on werewolves. “Hey, what’s Professor Lupins first name?” You ask stammering. “Uh, Remus, I think,” Neville frowns. “You alright?”

You nod and rush out of the room as soon as the bell ring and Neville is chasing after you because you’re normally not this skiddish/flighty

You grab a book from your personal library—a book on classical mythology—and flip through the pages. “I knew it!” Then you hear a crash and a yelp. “Oh stars, Neville,” you realize because you know for a fact he’s forgotten that the girls dormitories are enchanted. You race down and find him sprawled out on the common room floor.

“I’ll tell you,” you help him up. “Tonight,” then you’re at war with yourself because you don’t know how safe it is to be out in a full moon but you trust Dumbledore and Professor Lupin enough that later you and Neville are up in the Astonomy Tower

“A werewolf? You think Professor Lupin is a werewolf?” Neville asks skepically. “Yes,” you confirm and you’re about to go into it again when Neville intervenes “No, no I trust you. I do... but what are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” you whisper. “It wasn’t his choice... and he hasn’t hurt anybody...” “shouldn’t we tell someone?” Neville asks. “And out him? It’s not exactly easy to be a werewolf Nev.” you two just sit looking at the stars. The Neville reminds you that you both have an essay due for DADA for Snape.

“Oh! That wretched Snape!” You jump up. “Merlin! He’s making the entire class write how to kill werewolves for Lupin to read when he gets back!” You are absolutely seething and Neville has to stop you before you go and hex the stars out of Snape but Merlin does he love you for it

You refuse to write the essay. Instead you copy down all your notes about Roman mythology and Romulus and Remus and the She-Wolf Lupa and how all great heroes of Roman mythology start under the care of the She-Wolf

Remus is about having a nervous break down when he gets to your paper and now he’s sobbing because he’s reading your paper about heroes and wolves

You get full marks on the essay and Lupins deepest respect

Anyway

Neville stumbles through an invitation to Hogsmeade and again you laugh and accept and then before you know it it’s not just you two but an entire group of third years and you two can’t help but feel a bit disappointed

He followed you around the book shop as you pick up books and flip through them and you watch him marvel at the plants in a nearby shop. He goes back and buys you the book you were looking at and you buy him the vine plant. For Christmas. Obviously. As friends.

The holidays come and you’re both hesitant to say goodbye because of the fear lingering over Hogwarts but you part ways

You don’t spend a day without thinking of Neville is okay over the holidays and you send him letters constantly. He’s always worrying about you

When he visits his parents that Christmas he sits down and tells them about a girl he met who’s full of courage and stories and how kind she is and stubborn and brave and how they would adore her

His grandmother over hears and doesn’t tease Neville about it, but she has a deeper respect for you because you really have captured her grandsons heart

Malfoy is being Malfoy one day and you’re about to punch the git in the face but Neville grabs your arm. “It’s not worth it,” he whispers, “he can be wrong, but I know you and you’re not like him. Don’t stoop to his level.” and Merlin if you don’t melt on the spot and somber up

You figure out that Neville has the biggest sweet tooth after catching him in Honeydukes and you ask your (muggle) dad to send you Muggle candies and sweets for Neville to try. He always shares them with you and prefers sweets that don’t have an air of danger to them

You meet fourth gear on the train and your heart skips a beat because he’s grown about half a foot and his hair is shaggy and a mess and perfectly Neville and he still has Trevor and it makes you smile

He’s also freaking out internally because you’ve grown a lot over the summer and you’re in a muggle tshirt and jeans with an MP3 player and he’s just... wow. You two listen to music on the train ride this year and end up falling asleep on each other

At this point everyone including you is waiting for him to ask you out and become an official couple and every time you think he tries to ask you he stammers and freaks out and doesn’t because you’re just so perfect and pretty and popular and he’s not and he’s sure that you like someone else and he’s not much

He finally asks you to the Yule Ball... sort of.

“He’s been practicing dancing alone all month,” Rom jeers. “Must be some girl,” Neville is absolutely red and you can’t seem to look away from your dinner because you think he’s doing it for someone else because why wouldn’t he just ask you to practice dancing? You were best friends anyways, of course you would help him

You ask him who the girl is totally not jealous at all and he goes red and quiet again and you’re really worried now because you don’t want to lose him as a friend if he does like someone else

He finally admits that it is you that he wants to go to the ball with and you just stare at him not expecting that at all because you were convinced he liked someone else but no it’s you. Then it hits you. MERLIN HE LIKES YOU

He’s fumbling for an explanation and that it’s okay if you don’t want to go and a thousand other things and you just pull his tie and press your lips to his to shut him up. It’s awkward and uncoordinated but a perfect first kiss

You both can’t stop smiling the next few days because you’re finally together and there aren’t any walls between you anymore and it’s just nice to have your best friend back who is now also your boyfriend

Oh and you’re also going to the ball together. You smile about that too.

“It’s... it’s not much,” you flush looking down at your dress. “And it’s a bit muggle...” “You’re perfect,” Neville cuts you off and for once you believe the words and him practicing dancing really pays off because he’s bloody marvelous. You two spend the whole night laughing and dancing

Though everyone is staying on campus for the holidays because of the tournament Neville asks you if you want to come with him to visit his parents on the holiday. You smile softly and take his hand, nodding

You formally meet Neville’s Grandmother this time, not just passing by at a train station. She starts to scold Neville about doing something, but sees you clench your fist and take his hand and she pauses.

You’re nervous and it’s written on your face and Neville thinks that it’s because of the entire situation and that his parents are well... but you quickly blurt out “What if they don’t like me?” Both Neville and his grandmother gape at you. His grandmother recovers first “a sweet brave witch like you? How can they not my dear?”

You can see that Neville’s smile falls the father you walk into St. Mungo’s, so you take his hand and smile. He doesn’t smile but he doesn’t look so upset any longer. His gran leaves you two alone as you walk into the long room

“Mum? Dad? This is the girl I was telling you about,” And your heart just breaks for the one holding your hand. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom,” You smile and introduce yourself. “You have a wonderful son, and should be very proud,” and you realize just how brave Neville is for the first time in knowing him and Neville realizes that he never wants anyone but you by his side because you make him feel the bravest

You do visit him this summer. He lives in a downtown flat in the outskirts of London with his Gran. He’s got a garden in the small space out back and it’s filled with the most beautiful plants the moonlace you sent him is in a window box outside his bedroom

he’s got a jar of old candy wrappers sitting on his dresser and you give him a questioning look. “They’re from my mum,” He admits “I... I don’t want to toss them but I don’t know what to do with them,” “May I?” You ask and he nods, looking slightly worried.

You take one of the wrappers and easily fold it into a tiny origami butterfly. “My dad showed me how... we used to fold our gum wrappers...” soon each wrapper is folded into a little butterfly and placed into the jar again.

Fifth year seems like a total fiasco between Umbridge and the ministry but you and Neville both love DA

You know he loves it because he feels like he’s finally making his parents proud. “You do that just by being their son, I don’t care what your gran says,” You whisper one night, looking at the old photo of the Order of the Phoenix

You and Neville both get very good at defense spells and though you can’t sneak away to the Astronomy Tower that year, you do go to the RoR on quiet nights by yourselves and it’s just a huge greenhouse with a glass roof and walls where you can sit and watch the stars and maybe have midnight picnics

okay i’m calling bullshit on JKR again neville has a corporeal patronus

It’s a lion, let’s be honest

When he does cast the patronus you let out a yell of victory and so does he. Then you’re hugging and the charm falls but he doesn’t care. Your patronus might be a five foot butterfly but its fine and terrifying

You steal his sweaters all the time even though you think they’re god-awful but they’re always warm and smell like him and soft and you like people including your reflection knowing that you’re his and he wants you and chose you

Neville only gets caught by the Inquisitorial Squad because Draco throws you to the ground and Neville breaks his nose a-la-muggle then helps you up

At the Ministry you and Neville are a force to be reckoned with against Death Eaters and he saves you from Bellatrix because damn if he’s letting anyone else he loves get hurt by her

But you’re one step ahead and jump in front of Neville just as Bellatrix sends the Cruatius curse at him and furious, Neville sends one right back at Bellatrix before lifting you into his arms

You’re not awake but you’re breathing. “Stupid brave girl,” He cries, holding you, carrying you away from the fight as the rest of the Order shows up

He stays beside your hospital cot and refuses to be looked after himself by Pomfrey until you open your eyes. “Nev?” You rasp. “Stars! What were you thinking!? Running in front of me like that!?” He yells, pulling you into his arms. “Couldn’t let her hurt you too,” your voice is shaky and broken and he finds himself crying because he loves you. “I love you too Nev,” you whisper out

Then proceed to yell at him about refusing treatment and he laughs, wiping away your tears and pressing his lips to yours. It’s caked in dirt and blood, but it’s the best kiss and he refuses to let you out of his sight

That summer you go over every Sunday for family dinner and to just hang out with Neville. His gran hovers the first few weeks, but boy is she smitten with you because you remind her so much of Neville’s mother

He comes to your muggle and magic home and is amazed at the farm house that you live in in the middle of nowhere and finally understands where your love of stars comes from because out in the country he could see everything

He loves your cat Moxy and asks why you don’t bring her to school and you explain that she’s not a familiar, she’s just a normal house cat. And he swears that you and the cat have a language of your own and sees you two have full on conversations and arguments and just smiles because he loves you

Your parents love him so much and adopt him into the family on the spot. You show him some muggle flowers and plants that are your favorite (sunflowers, marigolds, loquat trees hydrangeas). You two spend forever binging Disney movies because he’s never seen any and you’re not having that and despite the war looming overhead, it’s a moment of peace

Sixth year when Neville gets the invitation for Slughorn’s lunch on the train you practically have to shove him out the door because “We always ride together, I can’t just leave you, I’m not going.” “Neville I swear to the gods go!”

He comes back, slightly sulking and you ask. “Just wanted to know my for who my parents are,” You dislike Slughorn on the spot. “Or maybe he wants to know you because you’re a hero,” You brush his hair from his eyes. It’s not hard to get the smile back into his eyes and on his lips

Sixth year is relatively normal for you and Neville, despite all of the fear and rumors spreading about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You are aware that the Golden Trio and the “chosen one” are up to something but for the moment you just want to go to Hogwarts, kiss your boyfriend, and pass your N.E.W.T.s

And maybe you worry about Draco Malfoy a bit because you know he’s a prat but he just looks like death this year. Neville can’t deny that you’re right and aids your efforts to try and reach out to the Slytherin

Then Dumbledore dies and everything changes. Part of you regrets not doing something more, but part of you is grateful that you enjoyed the moments before, while you still could.

Again you just want to punch Bellatrix in the face because at this point she’s frankly just annoying

You and Neville go to the funeral and you’re both stoic but gripping the other’s hand tightly.

“It’s up to us now,” Neville whispers one night while visiting his parents, a common thing for you two recently. “Harry isn’t coming back next year.” You’re furious with Harry for skipping out on Hogwarts, but you know Neville is right, the school needs hope still

You two reopen DA and you start a support group on campus under Snape’s nose for the younger kids who need to feel safe and protected. The first years just break your heart because they’re so young and it’s just not fair that they have to go through their first year of Hogwarts like this

The Room of Requirement becomes a safe haven for anyone and everyone but especially you and Neville who really can’t seem to catch a break. You’re rarely apart when you can help it and have been sleeping curled up with another since the first week

You defend first years ruthlessly from the prats in Slytherin and still try to get through to them that it didn’t matter whose side they were on, this isn’t right and maybe Draco and a few others let you go a few times scot free

You and Neville still watch the stars whenever you can manage and story nights with you become a commonality amongst younger years who really just need a hero or fairytale to believe in and Merlin it does something to Neville when he sees first years curled up in your lap hanging on to your every word or fast asleep

You two are sort of honorary parents that year and all of the professors who still believe in the cause are on your side and giving you two anything you need to give to the younger kids

Patching each other up after “detentions” you decide somewhere along the way that if you ever make it out of this alive you want to do two things: marry Neville and become a Healer because you’ve got a knack for healing spells and potions

The Battle of Hogwarts finally comes and you both are more than ready for it. After helping the first years to safety you and Neville join the fight hand in hand. You’re terrified but you can’t help but smile at him because you remember a shy dorky kid from first year and now he’s a leader and everything you knew he could be

When Harry is pronounced dead Neville looks at you, despaired and kisses you. It’s desperate and fast then he kisses your forehead and runs out of the crowd to face Voldemort alone and you don’t know if you love or hate him in that moment

Luna catches you and boy is she string because you can’t shake her grip. “Watch,” She whispers softly. “He’ll be alright. He’s got a fighter’s spirit,” You want to argue and run out after him, but she’s right, he’s bloody brilliant on his own as you watch through tears

As soon as you realize that Harry isn’t dead you throw Luna off, call Neville’s wand to your hand and you’re back to back fighting off Death Eaters while scolding him about never doing that again “Yes dear,” He laughs.

Then Nagani coils around your feet, making you fall and scramble back, wandless. “Neville!” You scream, terrified. He looks around panicked for you and then at the ground. The Sorting Hat was inches from him, a silver handle with red rubies presented.

He draws the sword and roars, killing the snake. You’re both panting and staring at each other. He helps you up and you pull him into another kiss before there’s an explosion behind you two. “We should...” “Yeah...” you chuckle and take his hand and dash off into the madness again.

The fighting seems to stop as Harry and Voldemort face each other down. You and Neville watch side by side, clinging to each other

As soon as Voldemort is gone you scream in victory and Neville takes you in his arms and you’re kissing again and for one moment everything is okay, because you’re both alive and free and it’s going to be okay.

Then you quickly go around mending and healing those who need it, not stopping until Neville pulls you away from the infirmary and sets you down on a cot.

“They need me,” You mumble into his shoulder as he takes a look at your wounds. “And they might appreciate it if you live long enough to help them,” There’s a soft smile on his lips as he patches you up and presses a soft kiss to each of your wounds.

There are too many funerals and too many tears and too many nightmares, but he’s always there beside you. And you’re beside him. You both expect to wake up in the room of requirement with Voldemort still alive, but it never happens.

You and Neville go and visit his parents again and together you tell them both what happens, together, because even if they’ll never understand the words spoken, it’s a reassurance to you and Neville that it happened and everything is over and that you’re alright

Neville still stammers through his proposal to you and you’re laughing and crying and saying yes because Merlin you love him to the moon and back

You’re visiting his parents alone the day before the wedding and for a shining moment, his mother takes your hand and you see a light in them as she whispers “thank you,” then the light is gone and she’s back to her spaced out look

The wedding isn’t much, just school friends and professors and some family. Neville is in a sweater and you’re barefoot in your backyard with a bouquet of moonlace getting married under the stars

You speak on behalf of Draco at his trial and convince Harry and just about all of your friends as well, because Draco was a victim like the rest of you were

You decide that you want to open a place for all the kids at Hogwarts who need a summer/holiday home because it’s not safe at their homes or they don’t want to go home. Neville kisses you when you suggest it and starts looking into places to make your dream happen

Harry offers Grimmauld Place and you cry and hug him because it’s perfect and soon all of the alumni from your year are working on fixing up a the place because they agree, there needs to be a safe haven for these kids

When he starts teaching at Hogwarts, you become a part of the staff as a therapist/Healer/on-hand mother figure to anyone and everyone. You don’t want kids like Draco or Neville or Harry to slip through the cracks, and though you can’t take down the house system, you can help kids while they grow up

You and Neville go out and see every new Disney movie in theaters, even before you have kids (and eventually you make your way to America to go to Disney World. It becomes an annual tradition)

You and Neville can’t have biological kids because of your injuries during the war so you adopt: first a little boy Perseus Frank Longbottom, then a little girl a few years later, Persephone Alice Longbottom.

Every year on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, you and Neville stop classes that day and tell all of the students the story, hand in hand. Everyone gathers in the Great Hall as the Storyteller and her Hero paint a tale of love and loss and hope.

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johaerys-writes · 3 years

Text

Where Blood Roses Bloom

Fandom: Castlevania Pairing: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades

Summary:

After Trevor gets grievously injured by a night creature, he and Sypha return to Dracula's castle to seek Alucard's help. The man they find there, however, is but a shadow of the friend they left behind.

Meanwhile, in far Styria, Hector does his best to survive in the vampires' court, a lamb amidst wolves. Little do the wolves know, the lamb has fangs of its own.

Chapter 3: Hope is up! Alucard is still sad, and Sypha and Trevor are Worried™. Also, some Sypha POV because I love her :’)

Read here or on AO3! Read from the beginning

Adrian watches as magic gathers around Sypha. It is a faint blue glow that makes her eyes spark, that builds and builds and pools at her fingertips. A subtle wave of warmth rushes towards him, touching him.

The scroll is before her, being held aloft by what seem to be invisible strings of air. Her voice is but a soft whisper as she speaks the chant under her breath. It is a fascinating thing, it always has been, to watch her cast, to witness the sheer amount of power that her slender frame is able to hold. Fountains of it. Rivers. Oceans, and it has only grown since the last time he's seen her.

It is more than a little unnerving.

Adrian’s own magic is entirely different to hers. He is familiar with the arcane in some ways; he has studied the philosophy and foundations, but most of the spells the Speaker magicians use are either foreign to him, or he has tried and failed entirely to grasp. It is an innate talent, his father told him once, entirely different to that of vampires. That makes the fact that Sypha now wields that power with ease no less transfixing.

Belmont is lying on the bed, unmoving and oblivious to their presence. Adrian’s mixture helped somewhat in keeping the infection at bay, but his fever has dropped only slightly. It tugs at Adrian, in a way he is entirely loath to admit, to see Belmont in that condition. Weak and frail, when he is usually boisterous and loud, obnoxiously so.

Perhaps, after all, I do still possess a heart, Adrian thinks. If barely.

The shimmering strands of magic that spring forth from Sypha’s fingers twist in the air above her, like silk threads moving through water, before settling over Belmont. The light engulfs him for a quick moment, seeps into every pore; he is radiant now, the bright light that suffuses him taking away some of the pallor of his skin. The spell is gone in an instant, dissolving into thin air and leaving no trace behind it.

The light around Sypha dims too, almost simultaneously, the warmth dissipating. As soon as it does, she closes her eyes, and brings her hand to her temples, swaying lightly. Before he can stop to think, Adrian leaps to her side, catching her by the elbows to steady her.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“I… I’m fine,” she says, a touch hoarse. Her eyes are screwed shut, a pained grimace twisting her features. “It seems the spell took more out of me than I thought it would.”

She’s leaning into him now; the sweet, subtle warmth of her body seeping through his clothes. He stands motionless, frozen for a long moment, unsure what to do.

“Yes,” he manages finally. “You did say that healing is not your expertise.” He guides her to the edge of the bed, helps her sit, then takes a safe step away.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” She rubs her temples, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. Her eyes are clear and luminous, a trace of the spell still shining in their depths. Adrian swallows, looks away.

Belmont is still lying perfectly still on the bed. It could be Adrian’s imagination, but he thinks his colour is not quite as pale-grey as it was a few moments before.

Sypha reaches out to place the back of her hand on Belmont’s forehead. “He feels a little cooler now,” she says, and the relief in her voice is palpable. Her hand drifts lower almost immediately, drawing the blanket back, peeling away the fabric of Belmont’s shirt. The bandage that they had placed on the wound only a short while before is already drenched in blood, and Sypha instantly gets to work in removing it. She does so smoothly, carefully, as if she is handling precious glass. Adrian takes a step closer too, watching the gentle movement of her fingers as she undoes the wrappings with a mixture of dread, hope and anticipation. Neither of them knows what they’ll see once the bandage is removed.

Sypha hesitates only for a moment before peeling back the final layer and revealing the wound.

“The infection is gone.” Her fingers hover over the wound for a moment before she withdraws. She looks up at Adrian with a hopeful smile. “It worked.”

“To an extent,” Adrian replies, leaning closer. Most of the infection has disappeared, leaving behind healthy, if still damaged skin and flesh. “It will take a while to heal fully.”

“Yes. Of course. But it will heal like any normal wound would. Right?” She pauses, holding her breath, searching his eyes.

Adrian lets out a slow breath. At that moment, he wishes he could give her a hard and fast answer, and a positive one. He wishes he could reassure her with words, put her mind at ease. The truth of the matter is, though, that injuries like these are unpredictable. Belmont could seem perfectly fine now, then raise a fever high enough to kill him in a few days.

He decides not to tell her that.

“We shall see. You’ll need to keep an eye on him, day and night, at least for a short while.” It isn’t the answer she hoped to hear from him, surely. But it is all he can give, right then.

Sypha takes that with surprising stoicity. She nods, her lips tightening in a line, then turns to Belmont once more.

Adrian takes another, small step back.

“I… shall leave you to it, then,” he tells her. “I suppose you’ll both be needing rest. There is food in the kitchen, should you get hungry.” He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he is about to say. “You are welcome to stay until… until Belmont has fully recovered. I’ll stay out of your way until then.”

The look she turns to give him is a surprised one. She stands up slowly, blinking at him. “Where are you… will you be around?”

There is surprise in her gaze, and worry. It warms Adrian in a way he does not expect, but he decides not to let the feeling linger. He backs towards the door, hesitating for a moment before opening it. "I wish you luck," he says quietly, and walks out.

Sypha does not see Alucard again for three days.

Three days of tending to Trevor’s injury, pressing cool cloths to his fevered brow, changing him out of shirts damp with sweat, and milling endlessly about the castle when she isn’t doing any of the above. Three nights of light, restless sleep.

She can’t complain, not exactly. The bed is comfortable, the mattress soft and filled with rich down, and the blanket the warmest and least scratchy she’s had on for months —all her life, it seems— with only the faintest smell of must. The tall window of their room is overlooking the expansive forest below and the snowy mountain range beyond, and the large hearth that burns day and night keeps the space comfortably warm. Trevor’s fever drops more every day, and the wound is healing nicely.

She still sees evidence of Alucard’s presence, if not the man himself. There is freshly cooked food whenever she goes to the kitchen; she isn’t quite sure how Alucard manages to cook it without her ever walking in on him doing it, but every time she goes there the smell of baked bread and the welcoming scent of spices she has never smelt before linger in the air. There are trays of sweet or savoury pies, roast game or grilled fish, steamed and buttered vegetables. Had she known that Alucard had such refined tastes, she would never have offered him the over-salted dried jerky and suspiciously moldy cheese they used to find while on the road, and that was often the only food they had.

Along with the food, there is always a pot of thin broth —she assumes it is for Trevor—, as well as strips of crisp white linen to dress and clean his injury, accompanied by a pot of antiseptic ointment that she assumes he makes by himself. The tiny note left next to it with instructions for use is written in Alucard’s elegant, flowy handwriting.

Sypha is touched. The care and concern is evident in everything he does, and she is not the least surprised by the fondness that creeps in, along with her bafflement. The man is an enigma— the more she stays in that place, the more certain she becomes of it, but his thoughtful gestures do not change the fact that he’s stayed away for three days.

She has never felt more lonely.

Dracula’s castle, or rather, Alucard’s castle now, is a frigid, unliving thing. Just walking down its endless dark corridors is enough to make her hair stand on end, but she does it anyway. There are only so many hours she can spend locked up in the room; besides, she and Trevor have made exploring abandoned villages and old manors a bit of a habit while on the road. It has always been a bit of fun on the side, even when it was a necessity. Now, as she passes through room after empty room, the air thick with cobwebs and layers of dust, she has to admit that there are moments that she dreads what she will see if she turns around the wrong corner, if the staked corpses by the front door are anything to go by.

Alucard himself does not seem overly eager to take the bodies down, or even to give the slightest explanation. He doesn’t even seem to have any intention of fixing the damage that the castle sustained during the fight with Dracula and his vampires. The red carpet that lines the floor of the entrance hall is burned in places, completely in tatters in others and drenched in blood in more spots than she can count. One side of the staircase is falling apart, and more than half the stone columns are in not much better condition. The mountains of broken bottles she finds when a wrong left turn accidentally leads her to the wine cellar confirms her suspicion: Alucard isn’t in the least interested in making this place a home.

Haunted. The place feels haunted. Heavy and dark with secrets of ages past.

She can’t quite explain the sadness that wells up inside her to see the place that her friend, their friend, has been living in for the past few months. There’s a terrible coldness that’s hanging over the space like a blanket, muffling the sounds, draining any sort of life, of warmth. It’s as if Dracula never died after all— it’s as if his grief overflowed in the end, escaped the confines of his body and boiled over, seeping into every corner, every crevasse, every inch of the space. It is thick and sticky like tar, and Alucard is trapped in it. It almost feels like, the more she stays there, the more she gets trapped in it, too.

It is only the fourth day, when she discovers the baths on the second —or is it the third floor? She has lost count— that things start to look up a little. A room filled with large, copper tubs, and metal pipes with switches that release cold and hot water. Sypha melts in it and lets it take away the sore from her muscles, scrubs her skin with soap until it’s flushed and raw, stays there until she’s all pruned.

She leans back against the carved bronze headrest in the shape of an ivy vine, and looks out of the small window at the top of the wall that lets a circular sliver of grey-blue sky peek through, and she suddenly realises: she’s almost used to this place. Almost.

Sypha walks back into hers and Trevor’s room thoroughly clean for the first time in what feels like ages, with her damp hair slicked back and combed through, and with the clothes she washed in one of the tubs and then dried off with magic neatly folded under her arm. The fire in the hearth is reduced to embers now, and she kneels before it to feed some more wood in it, when a tired groan comes from the bed.

“Too bright.”

Sypha looks back over her shoulder and smiles at Trevor, who is blinking blearily, wincing at the light that’s streaming in through the window. “It’s bright because it’s morning, sleepyhead.” She gets up and walks up to him, sitting at the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shite.” He groans again as he sits up with some effort, pressing his palm to his forehead. There are dark circles underneath his eyes, and he’s still quite pale, but there’s a vitality to his complexion that wasn’t there a couple days ago. “I feel like shite.”

“Do you, now? What a surprise. It’s almost as if you didn’t almost die from a cursed night creature wound.” Sypha rolls her eyes, laughing. “I’ve brought some food. Are you hungry?”

“Bloody ravenous,” he says, eyeing the tray that she brought in that morning. He reaches over to it, when Sypha pushes him back.

“Take it easy. Your wound is still not fully healed.” She stands up to pick up the tray, then sets it carefully in his lap. She ignores his muffled protests that he isn’t an invalid as she props some pillows behind his back and eases him on them, then warms up his soup with a quick fire spell. “There. Now you can eat to your heart’s content.”

Trevor says nothing as he lifts the cover from the bowl of soup and starts gobbling it down, and if that isn’t proof as to how hungry he is, then she doesn’t know what is. “Did you make this? It’s very good. Haven’t had soup like this in…” He frowns in thought as he chews. “I’ve never had soup like this.”

“I didn’t. Alucard did.”

Trevor’s eyes widen in surprise. He glances down at the bowl, his lip curling ever so slightly in disgust, as if he’s just eaten a pile of wriggling worms.

“Relax, it’s not poison,” Sypha says with a laugh. “He’s the one that’s been making food for both of us actually, all this time, though you’ve been too dazed to notice. He’s actually a very good cook.”

“Has he?" He quirks a brow, "Then why was I always the one to cook when we were travelling?”

“Skinning rabbits and roasting them over the fire until they’re all charred on the outside and still a little raw on the inside is not cooking.”

“It’s more than you did,” Trevor mutters, bringing another mouthful of soup to his mouth, his expression of mild disgust disappearing straight away. “I should have known that it was Alucard who made this. If it were you, it would have just been overcooked and over-salted vegetables in tasteless broth.” He huffs a laugh when she smacks him playfully on the shoulder.

“Just finish your meal, Belmont,” she says with a chuckle, leaning back with her palms on the bed. She watches him gulp down the rest of the soup and then attack the bread and cheese on his tray. His recovery is going well, she thinks, with his appetite back in full force, and that is enough to send a wave of warmth coiling through her. She’s missed his bad jokes, his endless groaning and griping, the mess he makes when he eats, leaving crumbs everywhere. The fear of losing him is still not far from her mind.

“So how is our gallant host?” he asks, leaving the tray aside when he’s finished and wiping his lips with a napkin. “Have you two been making friends? Has he tried to woo you into leaving me yet?”

She snorts and shakes her head, but a certain bitterness slithers in. “No… not really. I haven’t exactly seen him since… well, since he helped me find the scroll to heal you.” She did catch a glimpse of him, she thinks, a couple days before. It was only a flash of golden hair, disappearing around the curve of the stairs that led to the upper floors. By the time she had climbed the stairs, he was already gone.

Trevor’s brows furrow in a curious frown. “So he’s left you on your own? All this time?”

She shrugs. “It wasn’t as bad. I’ve been… occupied.”

“Huh.” Trevor lets his gaze sweep around the room, taking in his surroundings. “That’s odd. Even for him.”

Sypha nods, though ‘odd’ is an understatement.

“Any news on the…” He looks past their door, where the front entrance lies half a castle away. She shakes her head, her stomach clenching.

“No. Hasn’t said a word about it.”

His frown deepens. “I don’t like this, Sypha. I don’t like it one bit.”

“I know.” She sighs, gathering her legs up and sitting cross legged beside him. She reaches out, her fingers threading through his as if on their own; his skin is warm and comforting against hers. “I know. I’m not sure what to think of it either. And this whole place is…” She shivers despite herself. “It’s so cold. And empty. Just being here makes me feel... numb.”

She looks up at Trevor, who is looking at her like he knows exactly what she’s talking about. He does have this way of understanding exactly what’s on her mind sometimes that she can’t quite explain. She takes heart from the warmth of his touch, the solidity of his presence. “Still,” she continues, “no matter what’s happened here, no matter what he's done, he helped us. He helped you. Your life would still be in danger if it weren’t for him. You should thank him next time you see him.” She twists her fingers more firmly through Trevor’s, squeezing his hand gently. Her voice trembles only slightly before she speaks. “You would probably have died if it hadn’t been for him. Do you know that?”

“Don’t say that,” Trevor says quietly. “I wouldn’t have died. Not while I still had you by my side.”

“No. No.” Sypha shakes her head stubbornly, her eyes burning. All the worry she has barely suppressed those past few days rises to the surface, choking her. “You didn’t see how you were, Trevor. You were at the brink of death, and Alucard helped me drag you back from it. I could not have done it on my own. I was…” She lets out a tremulous exhale as she looks away. “I was powerless. Before we came here, I was completely powerless. You were dying, and I was on my own, and I didn't know how to help you. I didn’t—”

“Sypha.” Trevor’s voice is soft, his palm, when it cups her cheek and brings her gaze back to him, is softer still. “You aren't powerless. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles, a hint of mischief in the curl of his lip. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, you know.”

He pulls her close, and Sypha lets herself be drawn to him. When he wraps his strong arms around her, a sigh of relief leaves her lips. Home. She is home.

She squeezes her eyes shut and hugs him back. The warmth of his chest, as it presses against hers, puts her heart back in its rightful place, his deep, earthy scent filling her lungs. He is there. He is there, and she will keep him close, for as long as she can. “You’d better not be,” she mutters wryly. "For your own good."

Trevor chuckles, lifting her chin with his thumb. “Duly noted, my lady,” he whispers, leaning in to press his lips against hers in a tender kiss.

It is everything Sypha needs. Her arms link behind his neck, deepening their kiss. He pulls her closer, drawing her flush against him, his palms running up her back. She hums against his lips, threads her fingers through his hair as she holds him tightly. She wants him. Needs him. She-

She gasps when Trevor rolls them both to the side, flipping her on her back on the bed. “Wait— What are you doing? Your injury—”

“Fuck my injury,” he grunts, leaning down to kiss her once more.

She chuckles despite herself. This man. She's missed this man. She's missed him being strong and steady beside her, she's missed the grip of his hands and the softness of his lips. Before she knows it, his hand is slithering under the hem of her robes, and she's lifting the edges of his shirt, tugging, urging him. After so many days drifting through those halls cold and alone, she needs his warmth, she craves his touch.

“Oh, Trevor,” she sighs, leaning into him. “I missed you, I missed you—” His lips leave a trail of kisses down her neck, just as his palm smooths up her leg. Her eyes are half closed as she works the laces of his breeches open, then slips deft fingers past his waistband. A wicked smile widens her lips. “Someone’s missed me too, I think.”

Trevor lets out a sound that’s between a laugh and a moan. “Still worried about my wound?”

Sypha laughs, breathless, as she pushes him on his back and straddles him. “Stop talking, Belmont.”

Later, they both lie sated, wrapped in a tight embrace as they both catch their breaths and their hearts slowly find their natural rhythms. Sypha’s limbs are relaxed and deliciously heavy with sweet, warm weariness. She kisses the top of Trevor’s head before she peels herself from him, rolling on her back beside him. Her eyes are closed when Trevors sinks back into the pillows with a deep sigh. “Oh, that was nice.”

“Hopefully better than beer,” she teases.

“Only slightly.” He chuckles as she swats at his arm, then reaches out and wraps his arm around her shoulders. She presses her cheek to his chest and lets the warmth and calmness of the moment seep into her, listening to the quiet thrum of Trevor’s heartbeats. His breaths are easing now, and his fingers are soft and light when they brush down her arm. She cracks one eye open to glance at the wound at his sides. The bandage is still intact, crisp white, not a speck of blood.

Good. He is better. He will be fine. She lets out a deep sigh and snuggles closer against him.

“I missed this,” Trevor whispers, pressing his lips to the top of her head and taking in a deep breath. “See, if we had some ale just about now, I think it would be my personal heaven. Even with broody half-vampires roaming beyond the door.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sypha snorts. “You and your ale. How do you even enjoy drinking that thing.”

“You’ve taken a liking to it, and don’t you deny it.” She can hear the smirk in his voice without even having to look up.

“I only drink it because most inns don’t serve anything else,” she protests sleepily. “Besides, you drink enough for both of us.”

“Not now, I don’t.”

“Good! There’s one good thing this injury has done for you. Let’s hope it lasts, shall we?”

Trevor groans. Sypha grins.

They stay like this for a long while, in each other’s arms. The only sound is the fire crackling in the hearth and their soft, sleepy breaths. She can feel the tug of sleep just at the edges of her consciousness, and Trevor’s body fits so smoothly against her own. She closes her eyes, preparing to surrender to the pull, but it’s not long before the distinctly cold feeling of unease that has followed her since stepping foot in that place invades her thoughts. For some odd reason, she can’t get a moment’s rest here.

Sypha lets out a sigh and sits up, hugging her knees. Her gaze falls past the clear glass of the window, roams over the wide expanse of trees and snowy mountain peaks, the serpentine twist of the river. She suddenly longs to open the windows wide, to fly away like a bird. Buildings have always suffocated her. She feels more at home now in her and Trevor’s carriage, with its hard wooden floor and the cold wind drifting through every crevasse. Sleeping under the stars or with the canvas roof of a carriage fluttering in the night wind is what she’s used to. She’s only ever had a ceiling above her head when her clan stayed in old or abandoned buildings for short periods of time during their travels, or when she and Trevor stay at inns, occasionally. She doesn’t deny that it has its luxuries, but staying in any one place for long periods of time is foreign to her. Her people never spent too long anywhere, and she’s been accustomed to being lulled to sleep by the soft movement of the carriage, the sound of the horses’ hooves or the crackling of a campfire. People always say that staying in houses made of bricks and stones is safer than living on the road; for Sypha, the presence of her people has always been the only safety she’s needed.

Trevor has become that for her. He and Alucard are her people— or at least, that’s what she believed. She’s not entirely sure what to think, now.

Trevor’s hand caresses her bare back. “What’s wrong?”

She turns to glance at him over her shoulder. “I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“Alucard.”

Trevor stays silent for a moment, then lets out a soft sigh. His eyes drift towards the door again, towards where the front entrance and the staked bodies lie.

She worries her lip as she studies Trevor’s pensive profile. “It just doesn’t feel like something Alucard would do. He is not like that. Is he?”

“I didn’t think him capable of doing something like it either, no,” Trevor replied thoughtfully. “But a lot can happen in a few months. You and I both know that, better than anyone. Besides…” He pauses for a moment. “He is half a vampire, you know.”

“What of it?” she asks guardedly.

“Vampires are vicious. They’re violent, thirsty for blood. It’s in their nature. Perhaps… perhaps he suddenly decided to get more in touch with that part of him. Who knows?”

Sypha frowns. “I don’t think that’s likely. One does not simply stake people for the fun of it, or to ‘get in touch with their nature’.”

“Dracula did it,” Trevor shrugs. “Alucard is his son. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Isn’t that what people say?”

“Yes, but Alucard killed his father,” Sypha retorts stubbornly. “If that doesn’t show a difference of opinion, I don’t know what does.”

“Even more reason to believe that he’s capable of terrible things.”

“That’s hardly fair, and you know it. He did it because he had to, and we helped him. If he’s capable of terrible things, then so are we, but that hardly justifies the bodies by the door.”

“Alright, fine. You have a point.” Trevor sighs, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. “What do you think happened, then?”

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine what it could be that pushed him to do something like that. The very thought scares me.” She glances away and hugs her knees closer to her chest. The unease in her gut, that deep, invasive feeling, is stronger than ever. “I… I worry for him.”

Trevor says nothing for a long moment. His chest rises and falls with his even breaths, and his frown deepens, carving a line between his brows. “Yeah,” he admits quietly after a while. “So do I.”

“You haven’t even seen the state of this place. It’s worse than I thought. It’s… cold and dark like a tomb. And Alucard himself is so cold, so distant… More so than before, and God knows he was near impossible to get through to even then.”

“He’s grieving, Sypha. Grief changes people.”

Her heart clenches at the thought. Of course he’s grieving. To lose one parent to the Church, the other to his own madness, and then have to fight him himself, on top of everything else. She can’t help the shiver that runs through her.

“We shouldn't have left him.” It is a bitter admission, and one that drives that gut-twisting feeling ever deeper, but there is no denying it now. Both she and Trevor were so eager to leave after Dracula was dead, so determined not to linger in any one place for too long, that they did not even stop to think about what it would mean for Alucard to be left alone with that, to face this overwhelming emptiness on his own. It makes her wonder now, whether it is that same emptiness that they were both running away from.

“When I lived with my clan,” she says softly, “when one of us passed away, that was the time when we would stick closer together, more than ever. If a wife, or children, or parents were left behind, we would spend most of the day with them, looking after them, commemorating their loved one with them. They weren’t allowed to do chores or cook for a week. That is how my people deal with mourning.”

Trevor blinks at her. “One whole week of no chores, with people cooking for me and fawning over me? How can I join the Speakers? Do they accept applications?”

The laughter that tumbles from her lips startles her. “You don’t need to join the Speakers, you daft bear,” she chuckles despite herself, leaning against him. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous, smirking at her as if he’s made the cleverest jest in the world. “You almost got killed by a night-creature, and you got pretty much the same treatment.”

Trevor’s arm comes around her shoulders, as if by rote, the vibration of his rich, throaty laugh running through her. He kisses the side of her head, and when he pulls back, his features have grown somber once more.

“Sometimes a man needs to be left alone when grieving,” he says thoughtfully. “You know, to lick his wounds and all that. There are moments when it all gets ugly, and I know for sure I wouldn’t want someone that I care about to see me when in a similar state. Perhaps… perhaps we just came here at a bad time.”

“‘A bad time’?” Sypha lifts a brow, nodding towards the main entrance. “Is that what you would call it?”

Trevor opens his mouth. Closes it. Frowns. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” His fingers drum a gentle beat against her shoulder, where he is holding her. “He was the one who wanted to stay behind. We asked him to come with us, and he didn’t want to.”

“Do you always know exactly what you want? Or what is good for you?”

“I should certainly hope so.”

“No,” Sypha smiles knowingly. “No, you don’t. And I think we both know that.”

“Hey, I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions. Perfectly good, perfectly wise decisions. Very, very wise and mature— why are you laughing? I’m serious.”

“You don't have a serious bone in your body, Belmont,” Sypha says, still trembling with laughter. She cackles in delight when he starts tickling her, trying to swat his fingers away.

“Are you quite sure about that? Hm? Absolutely sure?” He grins when the sound of her laughing protests fills the room. When she’s flushed and out of breath, he pulls her against him, his arms coming around her in a warm hug. “Alright,” he says. “You know best. What do you think we should do?”

Sypha takes a deep breath to calm her beating heart, and meets his gaze levelly. “I think we should stay.”

“What?” Trevor’s eyes widen. “Stay here? In Dracula’s castle?”

“Why not? It’s not like we have anyplace else to be right now.”

“Sure we do. We have night creatures to hunt, and gold to earn, and—”

“Don’t you think we’ve both had enough of killing night creatures for a while?” She reaches up, pushing a strand of dark brown hair away from his brow. “Alucard needs us,” she says softly.

Trevor blinks at her, evidently ready to protest, but lets out a deep sigh instead. He leans into her touch, gazing at her with warm, blue, trusting eyes. “How can I refuse when you look at me like this, hm?”

She grins, shifting closer to kiss him. His lips part readily under hers, and for the first time since stepping foot in that castle, she feels hope.

If you enjoyed this chapter, I’d love to hear your thoughts! :)

#castlevania #castlevania netflix #alucard #adrian fahrenheit tepes #alucard x trevor x sypha #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #trephacard #alucard/trevor belmont/sypha belnades #castlevania fanfiction #where blood roses bloom #johaerys writes

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bug13underscore · 4 years

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I’m absolutely in love with your writing! And was wondering if you could do #17- ‘Tugging on the bottom of someone’s shirt’, from the Physical Affection Promts. (I imagine that this gesture is their way of silently asking for kisses/cuddles when they don’t feel good, but maybe that’s just me).

I’d love to see you try your hand at 90’s Ot4 (Alex x Bobby x Luke x Reggie), cause young Bobby is a sweetheart in my mind. But if not it would also be cute with Alex x Luke x Reggie.

Ahhhhh I loved writing for Bobby, thank you for this request and for the compliments 🥺🥺🥺 Although this certainly didn’t end up taking place in the 90s, so this is like a modern AU I guess? So we’ll pretend Trevor is Bobby’s like dad or uncle or something, and the boys all know Julie!!

I also went with the autistic Luke headcanon here and then added in Bobby with depression and Reggie with nightmares (and ADHD), although the nightmares aren’t explicitly talked about.

As always found on AO3 here or below the cut <3

It was no secret that the four boys of Sunset Curve shared casual touches as a love language—although few people outside of their immediate friend group knew that these touches were not as platonic as they may seem.

The four boys themselves had come up with a system, for days where words were too hard, everything was too loud, or simply not wanting to ruin a moment with speaking, they could signal to the others what they needed. One gentle pull for cuddles, two gentle pulls for kisses and one sharp pull meaning just a little space.

Luke, personally, tends to favor the sharp tug. Days where everything was just a bit too much but he still wanted to soak in the reassuring presence of his boyfriends, he’d give a sharp tug on Bobby’s shirt, the boy would quietly nod before silently gaining the other boys’ attention, everyone congregating within the “living room” of their garage.

Hushed conversations were swapped, occasionally, but generally the boys all fell into their own silent activities. Alex draped across the couch, reading from whatever book he’d picked up that morning. Reggie haphazardly sat in a way none of the boys could, usually focused on the sudoku book that Julie had gifted him. Bobby was usually the one closest to Luke, scribbling into his own personal songwriting journal, the boy had mastered writing without making any noise. He pretended it wasn’t because of the one time Luke had nearly had a meltdown when his pencil kept making a skritch skritch skritch on a day much like this, but they all knew that was exactly why.

After some time, Luke took a deep, shuddering breath and extended his limbs out, stretching and popping from being stuck in one position for so long and inched his way over to Bobby, hooking his chin over the boy's shoulder.

“Thanks, Bobert.” The guitarist murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriends jawline.

“Never a problem, Lulu.”

Alex, undeniably, used the one gentle tug the most out of all of them. Although the system had been designed with Alex’s panic attacks and Luke’s overload days specifically in mind, Alex had begun to use the system more liberally.

During band movie nights, or nights when he’d gently shake the others awake, or just random times throughout the day. Cuddles slowly began to include hugs as well, or just vaguely touching in some manner.

Alex never said anything, but the others knew that their weight and pressure eased the drummer’s nerves. They’d notice how much quicker he’d wind down if one of them even had just a hand rested on his shoulder, or a pinkie threaded through his.

It was a Sunday when Alex had stomped in, his duffle bag being thrown to the side the second his body was through the door, and he collapsed against Reggie’s chest and gave a gentle tug to the bassist’s leather sleeve.

“Bad time at church, love?” Reggie hummed, carding his fingers through the short blonde hair, other hand drawing patterns onto the taller ones back, sharing a look with Bobby and Luke.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” Alex muttered, burying his nose further into Reggie’s neck and winding his arms around his waist. Within minutes the blonde was asleep, but Reggie didn’t mind, he just tightened his hold on the boy and promptly followed suit, their two other boyfriends laughing lightly as they continued about their business.

Bobby was a frequent user of that gentle double tug, using it to gain short, loving kisses whenever he needed. Before a show, after, during rehearsals, passing by then in the hallways (when they chose to attend school that is), or even just going about their normal domestic activities. He never said it, but his boyfriends knew him well enough by now that they knew it was usually when his depression decided to kick in, making him doubt them, doubt their love, and so they tried to make him feel as loved as possible when these times struck.

A few days after Alex’s bad day, Bobby was coming up behind Alex while he was standing by the microwave, reheating one of the many leftovers they had, when Bobby gave the two soft tugs to the hem of Alex’s shirt, his arms wrapping around his waist.

The blonde spun around in his arms, pulling the rhythm guitarist all the more closer and slotting their lips together sweetly. They stood there, hands wandering and lips locking until the microwave went off, breaking the two boys apart.

“You know I love you, right babe?” Alex hummed, pressing another kiss to Bobby’s lips.

“Yeah, I know. I love you too.” Bobby smiled back.

“Do you wanna watch Tangled?” The blonde brought his hands up to brush stray hairs behind Bobby’s ears as he gave a small nod. “Alright, let’s go get the other two dorks.”

Reggie, much to the other three’s shock, used the system the least out of all of them. They weren’t sure if it was because he had the strangest talent of being able to practically sense when one of the others needed affection, or something else, but on days where he did use the system, they made sure to make that whole day about him.

When it happens next, it’s not even quite daytime. They’re all quickly woken up by Reggie, although not by any intention by the boy. He woke up thrashing, a short scream ripping through the air before he gasps deeply and struggles to catch his breath. His boys are on him in an instant, cooing to him softly, pressing into him to calm him down and mumbling soft words of reassurance.

He calms down enough to find the hem of Luke’s muscle tank, giving it two sharp tugs. The brunettes brows crease in confusion, hand reaching to entangle itself with Reggie’s.

“What’s two sharp tugs mean?” He murmured, not completely awake yet but also not quite sure if he just missed the memo.

“Talk. Please. Too quiet.” Reggie choked out, eyes beginning to glaze over as they nervously searched the three faces crowding his vision. The boys all share quick glances before they all start murmuring, their voices overlapping in a spoken symphony, full of love and warmth, harmonies intertwining as they went on.

Reggie quickly drifted off to sleep, the others continuing to mumble until they drifted off themselves, pressed even closer together than before, limbs crossed and tucked wildly so they were each somehow touching all three others.

Two sharp tugs, Luke thinks to himself as he begins to drift off, admiring the softness of the features of the three boys surrounding him, fill the silence. Got it.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #90s ot4 #alex/bobby/luke/reggie #i love these boys ahhhhh #my writing tag #writing tag #i need to write bobby more i think is what this means #thank you for this request ahhh i loved it so much #khat58

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years

Note

maybe some more superhero content where matt is the tech guy but his super power is actually really great for super villains (he can force apathy on people or something). he is never cleared for field duty because hes really good at computers and look at all the donuts he eats, no way hes going in the field. shit happens and he is and he just wipes the floor with the villan of the week. and everyones like "fluke!" and he keeps doing it. "like its hard" and everyone is :(((( because its matt

Oooh, yes, but also, also. Whilst wandering the wilds of Superpower Wiki I came across Fear Manifestation?

Matt who can see both his and other people’s fears and bring them to life.

Just.

Imagine a wee little Matt Bragg discovering that’s his power?

This sweet little kid, all adorable and the whatnot and idk, maybe he saw a scary movie he was way too damn young to watch.

Or maybe a family member’s watching a horror flick thinking Matt’s asleep. Maybe he’s at a friend’s for a sleepover and one of their family members is watching the horror movie, whatever it is, Matt gets up in the middle of the night for a drink of water and sees this horrible, slavering thing on the screen and he has nightmares about it for ages, right?

Knows it’s not real, tells himself over and over again the way his parents did when they realized what was going on with him. Reminds himself it’s just a movie monster and can’t hurt him. Rubber and plastic and fake fur and fake blood and an actor in a suit, you know?

Same as some of his favorite characters in other movies and shows and nothing to worry about.

Except for that time it was?

Matt at a relative’s house for the weekend/summer and strange place – let’s make a farm with lots of trees and other things to cast strange, spooky shadows at night. Skeletal branches scraping against the glass of the spare room he’s sleeping in and owls and other night birds and animals going about their business and strange and unsettling to a city kid like him.

Has a nightmare about the monster, running, and running and running in the dark woods like in the movie. Stupid kid legs too short, slow, and it’s gaining on him and the last thing he sees before he snaps awake is the monster leaping on him, jaws opened wide and blood on its fangs from its last kill and where are his parents????

Poor, wee little Matt Bragg freaking right the fuck out and stumbling out of bed, steps slowing, faltering when he remembers where he is.

At his grandparent’s farm, miles and miles away from home and the closest city.

Dark spooky woods just beyond the farmyard on one side, cornfields on another. Big old barn behind a vegetable patch, and chickens and so on. Long winding dirt driveway leading to a small road and a couple of miles from the next farm over.

The farmhouse is unfamiliar to him, but he thinks he remembers the way to his grandparent’s bedroom. Knows they won’t be mad at him for waking him even at this late an hour, and even if they were he wouldn’t mind because it’s mean they’re safe, he’s safe.

Only.

The hallway doesn’t look, feel, right when he steps outside his room?

Ceiling too tall and he’s small still, a kid, but it’s not right.

The wallpaper’s different, not the pastel blue with pink roses his grandmother told him his grandfather picked because she loves roses. The light fixtures are different too? Not the polished brass and frosted glass but something colder, harder.

And -

There’s no window overlooking the vegetable patch at the end of the hallway, nothing he recognizes from his grandparent’s farmhouse.

“Oh,” he says, small little voice in a big, dark hallway, “oh, no.”

He does recognize it, because it’s from that movie he knows he wasn’t old enough to see any part of.

The one with the creaky floorboards under his feet and that light further down that flickers like a dying heartbeat.

Glowing red eyes that take form between one and the next.

Red and mean and this low snarl that rolls into a growl.

Click of the monster’s claws on smooth hardwood as it moves toward him, that slow, slow stalk of a predator that’s seen prey and poor, wee little Mat Bragg is frozen to the spot because this can’t be real.

But it is.

Or at least real enough that when the monster snarls again and launches itself down the hall at him he screams bloody murder and runs.

All the way back to the spare room he’s staying in where he slams the door shut and hides in the closet.

Hears it collide with the door, snapping and snarling and clawing at the wood while he curls down into corner of the closet and squeezes his eyes shut hoping it will give up, go away, that it’ll stop.

Claps his hands over his hears and recites the rules to the last game he learned to himself, card game his grandparents taught him before dinner.

He can hear yelling, so he presses his hands to his ears harder, but he can still hear the yelling. And then a gunshot, big, booming thing he recognizes, knows.

And his fear for his grandparents, his grandfather and that shotgun of his, has Matt uncurling, getting to his feet.

Worried about them, and he’s reaching for the doorknob to the closet door when the door to the bedroom slams open. Draws a yelp out of Matt and has him ck backpedaling as footsteps come his way and the closet door is ripped open -

“Matt?”

It’s his grandfather, looking as scared as Matt’s ever seen him, shotgun in his hands and staring at Matt like he can’t believe he’s okay.

And then, okay, and then.

Matt’s grandfather coaxes him out of the closet, promises him it’s safe and Matt believes him because his grandfather’s one of the strongest, toughest people he knows next to his grandmother and mom, and when he steps into the bedroom -

“…”

Because the room is untouched, sure, but the door?

Almost broken in two, clawed in two, huge gaping wounds in the wood where the monster tried to claw its way in.

The hallway beyond is the same Matt remembers from before, pastel blue and pink with touches of yellow and green, and the same light fixtures.

Seems the way he remembers it, normal farmhouse in rural South Carolina, and just.

Yes.

So, that’s how Matt discovers his powers and it’s not something he ever forgets, you know?

Gets worse as he gets older, realizes he can do that but with other people’s fears?

Like.

Slightly older Matt Bragg at school and bullies and this menacing figure with ham-sized fists and a rough voice and angry words and Matt’s bullies look so small next to them?

Things like that, and it’s.

He collects them, too.

Each new one slotting itself into his head, making a new home for themselves and sometimes he wakes up screaming because he’s dreaming someone else’s nightmare, fear.

(If he’s lucky, it stays a dream. Sometimes, though, sometimes they crawl out of his head into the real world and things, people, get hurt.)

Matt’s grandparents talk to his mom, his dad, the take him to specialists who teach him how to control it, because it’s that or lose his damn mind.

So he learns to control it.

Slips up from time to time, because he’s still a kid and feelings are hard, but eventually he learns to adapt.

Gets weird looks from people for being as easy-going as he is, weirdly apathetic sometimes?

But it is what it is.

He ends up working with small superhero teams here and there, a knack for computers and tech and people like him are always in demand, you know?

Superhero teams would be lost with out their techies and support staff and Matt gains a reputation as one of the better ones out there.

Catches the eye of a team in one of them big cities people are always talking about?

“Matt, what the fuck?”

Because Jeremy and old friends from way back. One of the minor league teams Matt worked for and this asshole with the impenetrable skin and bullheaded stubbornness to match. Jeremy’s new team needs another techie seeing as how they’re getting to be a little too much for one poor bastard to look after?

So Matt packs up his belongs and moves to the big city – “You’re impossible,” - and gets a tour from Gavin who’s far too relieved to meet him.

“Oh, thank God, you have no idea what it’s like,” like he really believes that.

(Matt’s known Jeremy for years, if what the asshole’s been telling Matt about his new team is even a little bit true, if they’re all like him in the worst possible ways then yeah, Matt fucking well knows.)

Anyway.

Matt starts working for this new team, big league players as these things go. Fight top-tier supervillains and a whole slew of lesser ones jockeying for position among the worst of the worst.

Have a whole city under their protection and a shiny space station all their own that should be fully repaired by the end of the year.

(Platform for an orbital death-ray in a past life, and Ryan and Trevor are quick to reassure everyone the death-ray is no more. Really, guys. :D?)

Anyway, anyway.

New team and all these new fears taking up residence in Matt’s head, you know?

Hi, hello, and I’ll just be living here now, right next to that monster that still gives you nightmares even now, don’t mind me.

Aside from all that, fears and nightmares living inside his head and all, Matt’s pretty easygoing? Affable.

Learns to put up with Gavin’s shit and loves giving it right back to him, the two of them kindred spirits in the way they sometimes want to throttle their fucking teammates?

Like.

Maybe don’t automatically resort to Heroic Sacrifice when there’s still time to come up with alternatives? Don’t be that asshole, okay? It’s a goddamned downer, and that’s before the funeral.

Should be a little worried (horrified?) at the fact that Gavin has secretly had the entire team and support staff microchipped, but when someone gets abducted or goes MIA it cuts down on the Drama and techie-side dramatically.

(Legal? Probably not, but everyone turns a blind eye to it seeing as how useful it is, and really, if Gavin went supervillain on them? The fact he could pinpoint their exact location whenever he wanted would be the least of their worries, so. Yes.)

Anyway, anyway.

Matt settles into the team incredibly quickly, realizes he likes it there?

Like.

Before all this he was just working a job, no real attachment or sentiment to go along with it. Dealt with some real assholes, all ego and no substance and all that over the years. Good people who stayed silent when they should have used their voices to do good and all that, just about everything you could think of, he’s seen it, dealt with it.

But these assholes?

He’s personally invested in them.

To the point he makes an effort to address their fears, see what he can do because some of them -

It’s not fixing them, not whatever horrifically simplified way of talking about it you’d think, just.

Stuff.

Things.

Something?

Something.

Little pushes here, a pointed question there. Outside perspective, non-judgment and that space their fears have made for themselves in his head...shift.

Go from something truly awful, something that could break a person who never deserved it into something smaller, more manageable.

And then, okay, and then???

All those lesser villains and supervillains, well sometimes one of them has real potential, you know? The makings of greatness, and everyone knows being great doesn’t always equate to being good.

Comes in and picks members of the team off one by one, clever and patient about it. So much so no one realizes it’s a concerted effort until it’s almost too late?

Incidents and accidents and seeming bad luck that takes out their heavy hitters at the start, has them calling on reserve members, has Gavin in the field which is a rare fucking occurrence, and not something the others like to see?

But, again, heavy hitters down for the count or missing altogether and their ranks thinned down to near nothing.

Gavin’s a little like Matt – not the same category regarding their powers, God no, just.

Gets underestimated far too often.

Doesn’t look intimidating like some of the others, isn’t some musclebound brute of a figure or anything, but he’s smart.

Clever.

Enough to know there were things Matt wasn’t saying, those long nights in the base nerve center worrying about the others where they’d talk about powers and such.

Little hypotheticals Matt would propose to counter Gavin’s and just.

Something to what he didn’t say, and anyway, anyway.

There’s a call, trouble in the city their team is sworn to protect and they’re the only two in the base who aren’t badly injured, off on what they all know is another wild goose chase searching for the asshole behind all this hurt.

Just the two of them and Gavin takes out a coin he carries around for some reason.

Ryan knows, though, doesn’t he. Gets this little half-smile when he sees Gavin rolling it across his knuckles and a story Matt’s only heard bits and pieces of from the others.

Trevor’s laugh and a glance up, up, up at wherever that shiny space station is in orbit at the time.

Michael’s heavy sigh and put upon scowl, thumbnail rubbing at at scar on his eyebrow in unconscious habit.

Lindsay fucking losing her shit, wheezing something about fucking idiots and...catsuits?

(Either literal catsuits, which, uh, no thanks? Or the kind that Gavin has hanging up in his closet, puts on when the team goes all-out in training and drag Gavin out even though he’s better suited for shadows and stealth rather than head-on tactics.)

And on and on, and one day, one day Matt will get the whole story out of these assholes.

Gavin takes out that coin of his and gives Matt this little grin, smirk.

Just the two of them in the base’s nerve center, lights down low and dread weighing heavy over all of them.

(Sometimes good doesn’t triumph over evil, sometimes the bad guys win. It’s happened in other cities before, will again because that’s how these things go, isn’t it.)

Gavin flips his coin, hand coming down to cover it before Matt can make out if it’s heads or tails and laughs as he heads to his quarters to suit up.

It’s a thing of theirs, that coin flip.

Loser grabs the coffee, or delivers bad news to an overworked and understandably cranky team. Goes and does the thing no one else wants to, can.

Something shifts in Matt’s head, big and mean and angry. Slavering jaws and glowing red eyes and claws that can tear through steel. (Matt’s seen it.)

“Back in a jiff!” Gavin says, suited up and ready to head into the city (their city) with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he’s a goddamned liar because he doesn’t come back, does he?

No he does not, the asshole.

Leaves behind in the dark, all these fears and nightmares in his head.

That monster from his nightmares as a kid? First one he remembers and with him all this time later, less a nightmare and something like a constant...constant.

Something help ground himself when he loses control and can’t tell nightmare from reality and the other way around.

Movie monster made real, and something he’s lived with for a long damn time, learned to make his peace with and all that.

Besides.

He has all these new fears now, doesn’t he? Less fantastical in some ways but no less horrifying to contemplate, because.

This, his team? (Family?) They play a big part of his newest ones.

Still.

No time to think about that, not with some asshole broadcasting some stupid diabolical scheme to the entire city. Cruel and smug and gloating, and Matt’s missing teammates strung up behind him awaiting death by public execution or whatever it is he’s babbling about.

And Matt, okay, Matt.

Doesn’t have a suit or mask to call his own, never really needed one, you know?

Techie like him?

Yeah, no.

No suit, no armor.

Just Matt and a head full of fears and nightmares, and people don’t give him a second glance between good old Matt making his way to the asshole’s lair and the whole city in peril deal.

The ones who do? Hired goons and personal henchmen in matching uniforms? Well, wouldn’t you know what interesting fear they all have?

There are a few you’d expect, dying old and alone and heartbreaking in that respect, but others?

They’re things that step out of the shadows, slither in some cases, with big teeth and claws and the screaming just gets them more excited.

Matt doesn’t kill them, those hired goons and personal henchmen, God no, but they won’t be getting up anytime soon.

(Fear will do that to people, sometimes.)

Works his way up, up, up to a building rooftop and why, Matt wonders, why do they all have to be so goddamned theatrical about this shit?

Anyway, though.

There’s Matt in his hoodie and jeans and worn sneakers he swears he’ll replace soon, really.

There’s Matt, and then there are more hired goons, personal henchmen, and his team, all strung up. The asshole behind this bullshit.

And then, you know, and then.

That nightmare monster that’s been with Matt all these years?

Stalks out of the shadows with its glowing red eyes and sharp fangs and sharp claws.

Stands at Matt’s shoulder, rumbling growl and -

There’s screaming, because there always is, you know?

Big fucking thing like that appearing out of nowhere?

Yeah.

Matt looks up at it, and he knows, he knows, mercy, but in all honesty he’s not really feeling it after all the bullshit this asshole’s put his family through, and yet?

“Try not to kill them,” Matt tells his nightmare monster, and turns his attention to the asshole in the dumb suit.

Smiles when he hears it snarl, rush of displaced air as it races towards the line of stunned hired goons and personal henchmen and then he’s got other things to worry about.

It’s not graceful, not dignified what happens next because Matt doesn’t have the training, skills, the rest of his team does, you know?

At best he’s picked up enough to defend himself if some dick tried to mug him when he’s out and about, but he’s no hand-to-hand specialist. No martial arts master. Nothing fancy like that.

Gets knocked around a little, which, ha, part of his genius plan because fist to cheek and bingo.

“Oh,” Matt says, smiles up at the asshole through bloody teeth. “That’s a nasty fear you have, huh?”

Something about an aching, yawning void, and anger? Voices that claw at the mind, unravel sanity and the poor, stupid bastard who thought he was clever enough to outwit whatever dwells at its heart.

A deal struck out of arrogance and something close to ignorance, and a debt long owed and it shouldn’t exist in their dimension, you know? Impossible, because there are rules, and yet -

It’s the poor stupid bastard’s worst nightmare come to life, and Matt’s powers and there they are.

A furious scream, and clumsy rush like the asshole thinks he can put a stop to his fate if he just kills Matt, but he doesn’t.

Trips, a spot of bad luck or something else, and Matt sidesteps and there’s that aching, yawning void and all that anger.

Swallows him right up before it vanishes, space where it is rippling and warping and Matt has to look away because it isn’t right, how the world works and then it’s gone and it’s just.

Matt and his asshole team scattered about and groaning and unconscious hired goons and personal henchmen and -

“Hey,” Matt says, woozy, exhausted. “Good job.”

Matt’s nightmare monster snorts, tosses its head and fades away.

He feels it settling in the back of his mind as he passes out, familiar weight in the back of his head.

AND THEN.

Everyone collectively loses their shit because what the actual fuck, Matt Bragg?

Matt being like, “So, uh, hey, there’s a thing I forgot to mention?”

And the whole story about his powers comes out and, uh.

The thing where Matt saves the day again and again with his nightmare monster buddy/using some baddie’s fears against them and the others are like “We had that, Matt Bragg” which is a blatant lie as they were about to be lasered in half or whatever, idk.

Yes???

This totally got away from me and I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, but yes???

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#ragehappy #superpowers au #prompt fills #Anon #uh #yes #hope this is somewhat close to what you wanted???#technically not a fic #vagrant fic #:D???#Anonymous

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goalcaufield · 5 years

Text

things i didn’t tell you - alex turcotte request: alex finds out you had it BAD for jack before yall started dating word count: 1985

_____________________

you walk down the steps of the hughes household, something you’ve done dozens upon dozens of times before having grown up with all three of the hughes brothers, to see five of your best friends: jack, cole, trevor, spencer, and of course your boyfriend, alex.

“nice of you to show up, isn’t it?” jack chirps from the couch, craning his neck so he can look up at the stairs where you were.

you roll your eyes, “sorry, blame lex. he didn’t feel like waiting for me to get out of the shower and he bailed.” you narrow your eyes at alex who offers you a boyish smile. once you get close enough he pulls you down onto his lap. he goes to kiss your cheek but you push him away causing some of the boys to chuckle.

“babe,” alex whines and you shake your head, arms crossing over your chest. “you take like, thirty minute showers! i didn’t wanna miss this game.”

“no, i get it, i see where i stand, the leafs game is more important than i am. it’s cool.” you grumble. obviously you’re playing, it wasn’t that big of a deal that you had to drive to jack’s alone, but spending the extra fifteen minutes with alex would’ve been nice. both of you knew your limited time together was coming to an end.

“i can’t believe this is one of our last times we all get to hang out,” cole says, breaking the silence that had fallen over your group.

“i know, it’s like just yesterday we were all juniors playing our first game together, going to russia, hanging out for the first time. it’s crazy how times fly,” spencer adds on. you get comfortable in alex’s lap, leaning your head back to kiss underneath his jaw. he smiles down at you and you can’t help but to smile right back at him. “so many crazy things have happened over the years.”

thinking of all the stupid shenanigans you’d managed to pull with the boys makes you start to laugh, along with the rest of the boys in the room with you. sure, you and jack had managed to pull many more, and you had a special connection that was like a tag team duo when it came to pranking or messing around with the boys.

“god, remember when jack and y/n/n almost became a thing?” cole asks, and immediately you feel your cheeks burn and your gaze is fixated on jack’s. you’re both staring at each other like deer stuck in the headlights, and neither of you know what to do.

alex’s hands that found their way around your waist slowly pull away from you. “what?” he asks, and then all of the attention is on you and alex.

of course you hadn’t told alex - you didn’t have to. you and jack were barely even sixteen years old. you had been smitten for that boy since you were eight years old, so when the two of you almost dated? that was something new, and possibly not in a good way.

“yeah, y/n/n had it bad for j and j had it just as bad for y/n/n,” trevor speaks up from the other end of the couch, and if looks could kill you knew he would be six feet under by now.

“oh really?” alex scoffs. “well, this is news to me.”

“trevor, shut up,” you say, and trevor holds his hands up in defense.

“no, no. keep going, tz. i wanna hear about this.”

“alex,” jack says warningly. “we were sixteen. it meant absolutely nothing, and plus, she’s with you now. you can’t be too upset about that, can you?”

alex’s eyes narrow, looking between you and jack. “i can’t be too upset about it? knowing my girlfriend and best friend almost dated? i’m sorry, i feel like that’s something i should’ve known.”

alex’s hands meet your waist again, but this time they aren’t there for long. he moves you off his lap and he stands up. you try and grab his wrist but he waves you off. “lex, why are you so upset?”

“forget it. i’ll just text you later. i’m going up to my room.” alex grumbles, silently moving past everyone and going back upstairs.

you huff and sink back into the couch, eyes moving towards cole who’s trying to sit innocently. you and jack both glare at him and he frowns. “guys, i’m sorry! i didn’t know he’d react like that.”

“well we weren’t sure how he would react, so we didn’t tell him in the first place,” jack says and you agree with him.

“and it isn’t like it’s important information, cole. and now he’s upset. we were sixteen. alex was already butthurt enough when he found out jack and i were technically each other’s first kisses when we were nine.” you turn to trevor, who immediately his eyes widen like saucers. “and you.”

“me?” trevor asks, voice raising at least five octaves. “is it my cue to run?”

“i’d say so, yeah,” spencer says. you make a sudden movement and trevor flinches back. “tz, chill out.”

“yeah tz, chill out.” you roll your eyes and stand up. “and now, if you guys don’t mind me, i have to go make my boy feel better.”

even though you’ve barely been in the basement for three minutes, you’re headed up the stairs of the basement and then up toward where alex’s room is. his door is closed and you don’t even bother knocking, you walk right in and see him laying on his side, phone in hand facing the fall.

“go away, jack. i really don’t want to talk to you right now.” alex grumbles, not even bothering to look up. you sigh and carefully walk into his room, sitting down on his mattress and lightly placing your hand on his arm, he turns his head. “y/n, i don’t really wanna ta-”

“lex, will you let me talk? let me get things straight?” you ask softly. alex lets out a sigh and he slowly sits up. “thank you, love.” his silence lets you know he’s listening even though he’s looking down in his lap. you cross your legs and sit as close as possible as you can. “j and i have been friends for a really long time, you know that?” alex nods. “good. i’m gonna be honest with you, i had the biggest crush on him when we were growing up. he was my older brother figure, and i had two more out of quinn and luke, the hughes were my second family.

“jack saw me as just an annoying little sister up until we were like, fifteen. but i didn’t know that. i didn’t know that until you came to live with him here, and i guess when he noticed we started becoming friends he wanted to actually tell me he liked me. but we couldn’t do that to our friendship, we had been friends for way too long to risk throwing away all of it. we almost happened, but we didn’t. and i’m happy we didn’t, you wanna know why?”

“why?” alex manages to croak out, his eyes slowly raising to meet your gaze.

“because then i started dating you, bubby. and the past year and a half have been the best months of my life, you know that? i’m so, so happy that jack and i didn’t try anything, because honestly him and i wouldn’t last this long, i’m sure. but you and me did, and i can see us together for a while longer.”

you grab one of alex’s hands and hold them in both of yours as he sighs. “i just, y/n, you don’t realize how hard this is. jack told me he’s never seen you as more than just a friend, because yeah, i’ve always been jealous of how close you two are. the bond you two have. because we could never have anything quite like you and jack have and it kills me to think about it. he’s everything i’m not.”

“alex turcotte, you did not just say that.” you say, throwing a leg over alex’s lap and situating yourself on his lap. you place both of your hands lightly on his cheeks forcing him to look at you. “lex, you are everything. you’re my amazing, handsome, crazy talented at hockey best friend and boyfriend all in one. and that’s pretty amazing.”

“jack is your best friend, y/n. you don’t have to try and tell me otherwise,” alex grumbles, pushing both of your hands away from his face. “i see how excited you get talking about jack, your best friend, and how he’s supposed to be mr. first overall. because it’s jack. your best friend.”

“is that what this is about, alex? are you just jealous?” you whisper, letting your shoulders drop defeated. because you knew there was no way you’d be able to help him with this - this was his own doing. you can only make yourself feel the way that you do. that’s no one else’s influence, and you sure as hell knew if you tried to help it wouldn’t work.

“i’m incredibly jealous, y/n,” alex chuckles, eyes rolling ever so slightly. he shakes his head. “he’s gotten everything. the amazing life. amazing coaching growing up. amazing opportunities. had personal trainers. he got to know you for so much longer. he almost got you too. he’s got it good and sometimes he takes it for granted and he gets so, so cocky about it. and now what does he get? first overall. when we know anyone in the first round has the potential to do better than him their rookie year.”

alex can’t quite meet your eyes and you can’t quite meet his. you figured he must’ve been holding it in for a while - a long time - and now that he finally cracked you weren’t sure what to say.

“lex,” you mumble. “i didn’t know you felt that way.”

alex finally meets your gaze, and when he does you nearly crumble. there are tears forming in his eyes and he looks absolutely defeated. “no one did,” he manages to croak out, and all you can do is lean into his chest and wrap your arms around his neck.

“alex, i love you more than anything.” you mumble into his chest.

“i know you do, and i trust you do, but it’s so hard to make myself believe that when jack’s your best friend. and now that i know you guys almost dated? it’s even harder. because he’s gotten everything i’ve ever wanted. and the fact he almost got the girl of my dreams? the girl i want to spend forever with, you? well love, it’s even worse.”

you draw away from alex’s chest slowly, “lex, what did you say?” you asked quietly.

sure, you and alex had been dating for quite some time. but you didn’t necessarily talk too much about the future like you probably should have. of course you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, but hearing him say it out loud? while you were too scared to mention it to him, afraid he didn’t feel the same way? that was a whole nother story. a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“i wanna spend the rest of my life with you, love. i thought that was pretty obvious to you by now.” alex tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and you smile, a blush dusting across your cheeks.

“good, because you’re the only boy i want to spend the rest of my life with, alex turcotte.”

#alex turcotte #alex turcotte imagine #nhl #nhlimagine #hockey #hockey imagine #usntdp #team usa #badgers hockey #wisco hockey #jack hughes #cole caufield

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sadpoemsandsteverogers · 5 years

Text

cornelia’s ↬ auston matthews

A/N: hey all, it’s been a while. here’s an imagine about toronto maple leafs player auston matthews. this is unedited so please forgive me for any mistakes. thanks for sticking with me as i work through writer’s block and a whole bunch of other things. love you.

Warnings: swearing, mature-ish themes, reader is a bit hard on themselves cause #feelings.

Word count: 2.8k words

___________________________

Looking up at the flashing neon sign, you mentally cursed yourself out, a soft sigh and a few utterances of the word “fuck” following.

You should have told Mitch no, you should have told Mitch no.

Your conscience repeated the words until you felt like smashing your head against the wall of the club. When Mitch invited you to go out with some old friends, you knew Auston would be there. It was what deterred you at first, but you quickly came to the realization that they were your friends, too. You had just as much of a right to see them. Besides, you needed to get them to stop asking why you didn’t hang around as much anymore.

They didn’t need to know why, and you hated being reminded every time they asked.

You hated being reminded of the way Auston’s lips would trail along the shell of your ear, the edge of your jaw, the swell of your breast, the curve of your hip, and...

Stop thinking about him.

Your fling with Auston was a well-kept secret. That’s all it was after all, a fling. Just two people sleeping with each other, nothing more. Two people, who didn’t sleep with other people, but made each other jealous just for the intense, rough outcome. Two people who were good friends, sleeping together because it was convenient for the both of them.

It was a fling, nothing more.

Well, it was, until you noticed the way your gaze began to linger on him. Your hugs became longer, your hands trailed slower, and your thoughts were completely consumed by him. When you received good news, he was the first one you wanted to tell. Your promotion at work? He was the first person that popped into your head. Seeing two cute dogs on your walk back from the coffee shop? Auston’s name came to mind.

That worried you. There was absolutely no way you could develop feelings for him. He was him and you were you and that was enough, at least in your mind. You stopped it while you still had control, while you still had restraint.

It was three months since you had told Auston you wanted to end your arrangement- if you could even call it that. The rules and boundaries were unspoken but understood, which left you both even more confused. Your liaison, affair of the heart, involvement- whatever the fuck it was, was over. Auston agreed with no arguments. He respected you and agreed to end it, no questions asked.

No questions, specifically because you gave him no chance to ask any. It left him confused, and hurt. One night you were in his arms, your head resting on one of his pillows with drool seeping out of your slightly-parted lips, and the next, you were cold and closed off. He rarely saw you after your last night together. He saw you at two events, but you had left before he could approach you. You avoided him and it hurt. But, he knew that you had wanted to move on. You wanted something else, someone else. Auston respected that. He wanted you to be happy and if your late night rendezvous were not making you happy, he had no qualms with ending them.

No qualms, right? After all, you were just two friends, who sometimes slept together. Nothing serious, nothing bound, nothing set-in-stone.

So why did it hurt so much?

Entering the club, you felt the heat wash over you like a wave. Bodies were moving and heat came off of each one in waves, drowning every person in the building. Maneuvering your way through the crowd, you worked towards the area of the club Mitch said the group was at. Each step towards the large corner booth was accompanied by a fearful cry from your heart.

Please don’t!

Turn around!

I’m not ready!

Not Auston, not yet!

Get the hell out of here!

What are you doing, you dumb bitch! Turn around!

But you ignored every single one. There was no use in running away like the other two times. Auston is still a person, you still have the same friend group, and avoiding both like the plague was not the answer.

Hoping to slip into the conversation without drawing attention to yourself, you shied behind some of the other wives and girlfriends. But it could not hide you from the eagle eyes of William Nylander.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, sliding out of the booth and pulling you into a hug. Your wrapped your arms around the slightly-tipsy right wing, a chuckle leaving your lips as his weight crashed into you.

“Hey, Nylander.”

“Long time no see, stranger,” Morgan quipped, pushing Will away and pulling you in for a side hug.

You smiled up at him, “Getting that tooth replaced anytime soon?”

Mo shook his head, “Not until I lose one or two more. Season’s just started.”

You laughed, greeting the rest of the group with hugs and playful jabs.

Your eyes locked with Auston’s, and your heartbeat instantly sped up. He raised his glass towards you and nodded, and you nodded in return. A soft smile crossed his lips and you couldn’t help but mirror his actions.

“C’mon, Y/N, we need to get you out on that dance floor!” Kasperi grabbed one hand while Steph grabbed the other, practically dragging you to the dance floor. Your dancing with the large group remained humorous, your intentions far from sexy. There was no one to impress, no one to seduce, no one you intended on teasing. Just a night out with some friends, with no plan of playing games.

As an upbeat song ended, you announced to the group, “I need to get a drink!”

Walking off of the dance floor and making your way towards the bar, your eyes found Auston, who had already been watching you. Noticing how long you had been staring at one another, you offered a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of your neck, turning away. Your eyes widened and you exhale deeply, still continuing towards the bar.

Your conscience kept trying to nag you about how your body was reacting, especially at the fact you were so nervous over Auston’s mere gaze. You were all sorts of nervous, the feelings you had for him surfaced each time you thought about the way he looked at you. There was something so sweet in his eyes, yet it was mixed with what looked like hurt.

The look in his eyes haunted you as you ordered your drink of choice and perched upon a barstool. You made conversation with Freddie when he came up to the bar to get another beer, and you did the same with Mitch and Tyson when they tried dragging you back out on the dance floor. You gave in for a few songs, but made your way back to your barstool to get a water. Sweat was already pooling at the base of your neck from the dancing and the closeness of the crowd. It had been a long time since you had let your body just move the way it felt lead to. No hands holding onto your hips, no one behind you to push your ass into, just you and the rhythm.

Auston found himself jealous of the rhythm. He watched from his spot in the booth as you moved to the music. He laughed as you busted out the sprinkler, used the lasso on Freddie, and even the running man. He smiled as you slow danced with Steph to a Bruno Mars song, watching as you and her sang animatedly. His smile grew wider when he saw you headbanging to a Good Charlotte song along, and laughed again when you and Trevor smacked into each other.

The loving gaze and light air around him was stripped when you returned to the dance floor after your first drink. Your moves were a bit different. You were a little bit more in tune with your Cuban motion this time around, hips rolling to the beat in perfect time. Your feet move in a pattern you had picked up a long time ago at a dance class, performing a basic rumba with nobody but the cadence of the music. It held you in frame, keeping you close. The cadence did what any good lead would do: it showed off the follow. Auston felt like an onlooker at a dancing competition and found himself wishing to be your invisible partner.

As he watched you exit the dance floor and go back to your seat at the bar, an idea popped into his head. He was not sure it was a good one, but back when you were together- no, back when you were sleeping together, it always caught your attention. It was cruel and tantalizing and somewhat masochistic but you and Auston liked to play that game. It was nothing serious, except for when your eyes locked and the challenge was made aware.

Who would break first? Who would cast aside the body they were using and signal that it was time to go? Who would get the last laugh before the two were engaged in a bruising kiss?

Sliding out of the booth, Auston asked the first girl he saw to dance. She accepted, and he led her onto the dance floor. It was a slower song, but the beat was sensual and Auston almost felt intimidated by what could happen. He wished the girl pressed against him was you, but he didn’t think he could ask you to dance. He knew what it would lead to: a two person tango that lasted for hours, with you leaving in the morning and him wishing you would stay.

Finishing your water, you were about to go back out onto the dance floor when you decided to cast a glance over to the corner booth. Your eyes widened a bit when you saw that Auston wasn’t there. For some damned reason, you did a sweep of the club, wanting to find him.

When you found him, you regretted it.

His hips were moving in time with that of a stranger’s; and your heart was shattering on the ground.

He felt your gaze and locked eyes with you, sending you the same smirk he always did when he was trying to make you crack. He had almost convinced himself you were going to send a smirk back, and that you would be grabbing the first person who walked past to start playing the game you once were so good at.

But you didn’t want games. You didn’t want childish jealousy and unspoken words; and a part of you knew that Auston’s intentions weren’t hurtful.

But it still hurt.

To see him move so easily with another person’s body, a person who wasn’t you, caused your lungs to feel like they were filling up with water.

You broke his gaze and darted for the exit, weaving through bodies and casting out apologies when you bumped harshly into someone. Your hands grasped the cool handle of the door and pushed it open, stumbling out onto the sidewalk and letting out ragged breaths as the fresh oxygen entered your system.

Turning to your right, you noticed the sign of a familiar diner, Cornelia’s, a few blocks down, and decided that food sounded really good right now.

Waiting at stoplights and walking through crosswalks, you thought about what just happened inside the club.

What just happened? You realized you want something real with someone who wants a warm body.

You mentally barked at yourself to shut up. The last thing you needed was a lecture from yourself, especially this late at night and especially after all that dancing.

Entering the diner, you settled into the baby blue booth with a sigh, slipping your heels off and setting them next to you. You pulled your legs up underneath you, grabbing a menu and beginning to flip through it. The action was pointless, as you already knew what you were going to get. You used to frequent this diner with Auston, because why wouldn’t you? Of course it was the first place you ran.

Your internal beat down was halted when a waitress came to take your order. Coffee, pancakes, and some bacon sounded like heaven while you yourself felt like you were in hell.

Waiting for your food, you let your eyes trail over the diner’s interior. Memories with your friends flashed through your mind as you recalled late nights, early mornings, and mid-afternoon breakfasts with them at this place. Sometimes you and Auston would come here the morning after one of your nights together, getting breakfast with the both of you in the clothes from the night before- but a sweater or jacket of his would be around your shoulders. You would talk and laugh and debate about everything, and the more you thought about it the more you realized how easily you had fallen in love with him.

Love.

So that’s what it was?

All the times you felt fuzzy when he pressed a kiss to your forehead post-sex, or when he would pull you closer in his sleep and nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, or the way your stomach would flutter when he would throw his head back and laugh, or how airy you felt when he would just look at you.

As you ate your pancakes in an oddly melancholic silence, the bell hanging above the diner door went off and a new customer entered. You paid no mind until you felt someone’s presence in front of you.

Looking up, you saw Auston with a guilty expression on his face.

“Can I sit down?” he asked.

You nodded, grabbing your napkin and wiping the edges of your mouth as you finished chewing the pieces of pancake in your mouth.

“What I did back there was... stupid. We don’t... we don’t do that anymore. I don’t know what came over me.” Auston spoke softly, “I’m sorry. I overstepped.”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

You didn’t say anymore; you couldn’t. You were not entirely confident with yourself and the words that could fly out at any moment. Words you might regret, or might not. But the coin could land on either side and you did not even want to toss it in the air.

“How have you been?” he asked.

It was a simple question that threw you off of a ledge you didn’t even know you were standing on.

“Please don’t do that.” you said softly.

“Do what?”

You shook your head, scoffing slightly, “Care. Please don’t.”

Auston’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean? I care about you, Y/N. I just wanna know how you’ve been. We’re friends, after all.”

Saying the word ‘friends’ hurt him as much as it hurt you.

“Friends who used to fuck.” The sentence fell bluntly from your lips.

“Is that what this is about? Are you uncomfortable with us being friends after our... thing?”

You sighed in frustration, shaking your head, “No, Auston, not because of our thing. We never had a thing.”

“Okay, we never had a thing. So what’s wrong?” he asked, leaning forward and looking into your eyes deeply.

You leaned, back, moving your eyes to the condiment holder perched on the wall.

“Y/N, please talk to me. Please.” he asked.

Letting out a sigh, you straightened your posture, meeting his eyes.

“I’m upset because we never had a thing, Auston. A real thing,” you started, “like a relationship. A romance. It was more than just fucking for me. And when I realized that, I stopped it while I still could because it would hurt less than getting myself in too deep. I knew that what you did tonight wasn’t with malicious intent, I do. But I don’t want games anymore, Auston. I just want you. That’s it.”

He was silent for a few moments, which set off the alarms in your head.

Maybe that was a bad idea, you thought.

“I want you too.”

The panic went away at those four words.

Four simple words, that when pushed together, made you the happiest person alive.

“No more games,” he continued, “no more hurting each other because of the outcome. We can have crazy, hot sex without the games.” His words made you both laugh, because you both knew it was true, “So, let’s avoid beating around the bush,” he paused briefly and looked around at the diner’s interior, admiring the 1950′s style decor, “be my girl?”

You played along, “Auston Matthews, are you asking me to go steady with you?”

“I’ll buy you a milkshake, give you my class ring, the whole shebang, baby.”

You laughed at his cheesy lines, “Alright, I’ll be your girlfriend. Now, how about that milkshake?”

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews imagines #auston matthews x reader #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs imagines #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #sadpoemsandsteverogers #sadpoemsandsteverogers imagine #sadpoemsandsteverogers imagines

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aquaburst3 · 4 years

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So...I heard @raven-at-the-writing-desk is making a Twisted Stitch OC (or if Stitch was born as a human and was an anime bishie). My brain popped this idea out this morning as I was waking up. I want type it out now that I have time, because, hey, if I had this cursed idea, you guys will hear it too. (Also, fun fact about me: Lilo and Stitch is my favourite Disney movie, even to the point where I have a canvas print of Stitch hang on my bedroom wall, so this idea is extra cursed for me.)

Not sure what @raven-at-the-writing-desk is planning for her own version of the character, but this is just mine. (I mainly took ideas from the movie and that scrapped idea where he was a gangster.) I mentioned her OC here too, so credit for Elias goes to her.

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Nohea (Twisted Stitch) is an orphan, who’s parents died when he was a baby. The people at the orphanage had no idea what to do with him, since he always caused trouble. Wanting to be free and due his mistreatment at the hands of the staff, he ran away when he was in his early teens.

Like Deuce in the game, while he was in secondary school, he was involved with some pretty shady folks. He constantly got into fights, robbed stores (but for what he needed to survive like food and water, since he lived on the streets), skipped classes, used his magic to lord over those who didn’t, wrecked property. The works. For the first time in his life, he was having a blast, especially when he was causing mayhem, even if it was a false sort of happiness. Long as no one was hurt, or worse, killed, it was all good in his eyes. Doing this was the only way he felt sort of alive. Not like anyone cared if he was alive or dead, anyways, so might as well have a bit of fun while he’s still kicking.

One day, he and one of his current gangs decided it would be a fun idea to go to Turo, a town in that universe, to cause a little chaos. When he walked into an alleyway, he saw a man attack a woman, threatening to do even worse to her. He tried to use his powers as a distraction to make the bastard scram, but due to his anger, he instead destroyed a wall and nearly had the building cave in the process. (Even though he doesn’t like thinking about it, he’s thankful that no one got hurt or died when that happened.) He was promptly apprehended. Luckily for him, Nohea was just put on probation due him being under age, no one being hurt in the process and the lady recognizing that he was trying to save someone, even if it was in a stupid way. The only place that would take him in for that time? RSA, of course. Trevor (Twisted Jumba) became the person who’s supposed to look after him along with is romantic partner Peyton (Twisted Pleakley).

At first, Nohea hated it. He wanted to learn how to become a badass magician at NRC if he had to go to a college, not here! All of the guys at that school were stuffy, goody two-shoes. Teachers didn’t know what to do with him. Gossip going around the school saying that he’s delinquent, a self-destructive asshole or even outright evil doesn’t help matters either. Most of the students didn’t like him and stayed away. Even that Elias guy was wary of being around him after he destroyed a cookie made by him (even if it was an accident)! It got to be so bad that he almost overblotted due to him using a lot of magic and his heightened, negative emotions.

One day while he was at school, he was caught carving in doodles in his desk, and was put in detention. While there, another boy, Liko, was inside, who was in for fighting after people mocked him. The two talked, figuring out that they had a fair bit in common. Their families both hail from the same island. (Though Nohea’s parents moved to Rose Kingdom sometime before he was born while Liko still lives on that island.) Liko’s an orphan too, due his parents, unfortunately, dying in a magic car accident when he was a toddler. His older brother is his legal guardian.

Nohea began sitting with Liko at lunch. Before he knew it, he started hanging out with him in his spare time. Liko convinced him to join the art club along with him as an outlet for this emotions. Next thing Nohea knew, he was very close with Liko and the rest of his family. In some sense, Liko acts like a Jiminy Cricket to him. Liko is quite patient and understanding with him, and is able to talk sense into him. Nohea does the same with him. But sometimes, they still get up to minor mischief together.

After his first year of attending the academy, Nohea wasn’t on probation anymore. But since Trevor and Peyton began to have a soft spot for the guy, he took him in and treated him as if he was his own son.

Currently, while Nohea can be mischievous, impulsive, crass and a bit of a trouble maker, he’s not as bad as before. He tries his best to stay out of illegeal activity for his loved ones’ sake. Last thing he wants is for Liko or his other friends to get into trouble for his actions. But if anyone he cares about is in deep trouble or is hurt, that can sometimes fly out the window and he can go to questionable means to meet his ends. Most of the time, Liko is able to calm him down before it reaches that point. He doesn’t like talking or thinking about his past. Sometimes it does come back to haunt him to his dismay, especially his ex girlfriend Angelica. He’s quite inquisitive, enjoying to learn about new things. He’s quite smart when he puts in the effort. Despite this, he struggles in school since, he gets bored of things quite easily, and has a hard time concentrating. Over all, he’s also a pretty fun-loving, loyal and caring guy once people get to know him better.

Nohea likes drawing, dancing and playing the guitar, using those as an outlet for his emotions instead of Unique Magic. He’s a bit of a jock, enjoying running and Magishift especially, but he doesn’t like water sports like swimming. His favourite food is coconut cake. He’s also a caffeine addict, and drinks a lot of coffee, especially during finals season.

Unlike some of the other students at RCA like Elias, the NRC students would get along with him pretty well. Despite being reformed, he’s quite impish and can still raise some hell when he wants if it’s not illegal or would seriously harm anyone. Though, Liko would pull him back from doing anything too stupid if he’s there. Some even wonder why he never attended NRC instead of that stuffy school, but he would just brush it off and not get into it. Him and the One Brain Cell Squad would get along pretty well due to their either similar personalities (Ace/Grim) or backgrounds (Deuce).

His Unique Magic is I Want to Destroy. With a snap of his fingers, he’s able to create powerful blasts in the direction he points in. Down side is that his powers don’t work around any water, including rain and drizzle. He needs to be in a calm, clear state of mind, otherwise he can overuse his powers and cause more destruction than intended. He can also risk blowing his arm off if he’s not careful. (He also gained his Unique Magic a lot earlier than most due to his stressful background and living on the streets.)

While these powers could give him a future in mining, that’s not his style. He’s more of an artistic soul. He might use his powers to create art, or even as a search and rescue person to help others. Hell, he might be a guidance counselor without his magic. But he’s still in school, so he has a lot of time to decide his career path.

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twst stitch #aqua rambles

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 17 - With Him

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, how will it go in the end?, 4.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

One finger tapped on the strap of his fanny pack as Alex listened for the right bus stop to be called. If all those months since he’d seen Willie had been long, this past week had been longer. Especially since the news about Caleb had hit hard and every minute in the studio now felt like the band was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. He was going to try not to let any of that get in his way today, though. He’d made it to Saturday and Willie was only a few streets away, and he didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day - it was going to be good.

Finally he heard the next stop announced for where he needed to get off and he pulled the cord that told the driver to make a stop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his heart bounced around in its chamber like the Tazmanian devil from Looney Tunes. He was glad that Willie lived in the basement of the apartment building he occupied because it would’ve been the worst if Alex forgot which room he was in and spent hours frantically knocking doors.

It was hard to tell if he was moving quickly or if his mind was just racing, but in either case, he eventually found himself at the door. For a second, he simply took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to get a visual of Willie immediately pouncing on him the moment the door opened out of his head. It wouldn’t exactly be unwelcome, but Alex was realizing how desperate he was to be with him and was amazed at how it affected his imagination.

Lifting a hand, he made sure he knocked loudly. Soon after, the door opened, and Alex was greeted with shining brown eyes, silky, gorgeous brown hair styled into two braids, and a smile he could make home in. Willie.

“Hey, come on in!” Willie was saying, standing to the side and gesturing for him to enter. Crossing the threshold, Alex gazed at the humble space, taking in the details with heightened interest. “This is mi casa!” He began showing Alex around. “We’ve got the main living space, very cozy. The kitchen to your left, but no dining room so it’s all criss-cross applesauce on the floor - makes it extra chill. Bathroom through the back. The sink and shower handles will sometimes shock you, so don’t mind all the electrical tape.”

It was surprisingly accommodating for a dingy basement, and Willie had already made little additions that spoke volumes about him without words. A king size mattress sat in the corner of the ‘main living space’ on the floor with a small bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf only had a handful of cassette tapes and a Walkman lying on top, with a few sketchbooks on the middle shelf. Next to that, the dresser had a small collection of vintage soda bottles and a camera sitting on its surface. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers covered the ceiling above the bed. Even a couple cat toys could be spotted on the floor. Immediately, Alex approached the area where Willie’s desk sat surrounded by sketches hung on the wall.

“So these are your drawings?” he asked, although the answer was obvious. They were so good. Willie followed him over, the squinty smile still in his eyes.

“Yeah. Some are new. Most of them are attempts to recover what Caleb tore up.”

Alex looked at Willie apologetically, even though the loss of Willie’s previous work wasn’t his fault. Without warning, a pressure on his leg and the sound of loud purring announced Sheldon’s presence. The cat looked up at him and blinked slowly, already begging for attention. Heart melting, Alex bent down to pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said. “I forgot how cute you were!” He smiled as Sheldon rubbed his head against his hand with more affection that he’d likely seen from any other creature on the planet. Well...maybe there was one other that matched it. Alex had heard about how pets could take on the temperament of their owners, and suspected this was a clear example. “He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be almost two years old, if Escobar guessed his age right.”

Standing again as Sheldon pattered off, Alex returned his attention to the wall of art, looking at the pieces more closely.

“So which one is your dad?” he mused.

Willie untacked one of them and held it out for Alex to examine. “This one.”

Holding the edges carefully, Alex gazed in amazement at the detail Willie had caught. The edges were certainly less defined, but the scene inside the truck was so easy to visualize that Alex could almost feel the leather of the seats and the windchill from the window. He wasn’t sure what began burning in his chest as he peered down at the image, but it was profound and complex.

“I’ve thought about seeing if I could find him, but I think with my memory it’s kind of impossible,” Willie told him.

“He looks so happy here. I don’t get why you would end up as a foster kid.”

“Yeah, I wondered that too. Maybe he didn’t have a choice?”

Alex looked at Willie’s face, and he could tell half of him was lost in a world of what-ifs and other questions. He was always trying to seem so easy-going, and to an extent he truly was, but he couldn’t hide the constant sense of upheaval that rested on his shoulders. At least, Alex was picking up on it more, now that he knew the things he did. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine anyone not fighting their hardest to keep Willie.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the unfinished work on the desk, and recognized it as a portrait of himself.

“Wow.” The word fell out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Willie started with a hint of shyness. “Obviously that one isn’t done, so…” He reached to put it away.

“You got that far off of memory, though,” Alex said. “I’m impressed. And you make me look good.” He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe some time today I could be a model for you?”

Willie cocked his eyebrow, surprise and playfulness making an adorable combination on his face. It made Alex’s smile grow wider.

“Well, we’ve got a whole day ahead,” Willie said. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay,” Alex said, leaning onto his back foot casually, one side of his lip curling with intrigue. “Well, I wanna see where you go around here. You seem to have a knack for finding the best spots. We can play it by ear.”

“What’s that one song with the one phrase?” Willie asked. “‘Any way the wind blows?’” He sang shyly, clearly playing down what Alex could tell was a nice voice.

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Alex smiled. Willie’s job at the record store was at least giving him a good taste in music. “Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about the classics once you hang out with me enough.”

An emotion flashed in Willie’s eyes and after a moment Alex realized what those words were actually saying. He held his gaze, hoping he could communicate his intentions clearly, unlike the last time they’d seen each other. Willie swallowed, and his expression remained excited as he loaded his backpack and led them out the door, board in hand. Alex followed him, deciding not to question which direction they were going.

First, they made a stop to buy a bunch of apples. In classic Willie fashion, he went to a bodega, and this time he communicated with the cashier in rough Spanish. Alex knew he was showing off, and smirked at the notion that Willie enjoyed impressing him.

“So what do we need these for?” Alex wondered as they left the bodega. “Besides a ton of apples for lunch.”

Willie’s secretive smile made Alex raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

A little while later, they stood before the most unlikely place in all of Los Angeles: a horse barn. Staring at the building as if it loomed fifty feet above him, hands in his pockets, Alex gulped and a lump of dread landed in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no,” he muttered apprehensively.

“Oh yeah,” Willie said, turning to him with a thrilled grin on his face.

Alex wasn’t exactly afraid of horses...he just had no idea what to do around them and therefore was not sure what to expect from them. Also, he would’ve worn different pants if he’d known this was on the agenda.

“I promise, they’ve got some really chill horses,” Willie tried to ease his nerves. “I’ve gone on this trail enough times. Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about riding once you hang out with me enough.” He winked as he threw back Alex’s line with a sly smile.

Unable to argue, Alex shook his head and used the hand in his pocket to gesture forward, signaling to Willie he was up to the challenge. He watched him practically skip inside and he had to jog to keep up after him. They signed in and then were led to two stalls.

Willie immediately gravitated toward a tall golden-colored mustang stallion with a dark mane, apparently both already familiar and happy to see each other. Alex watched him gently greet and essentially coo at it while comfortably stroking its nose and then feeding it an apple. He longed to have that sort of talent with other creatures, and simultaneously realized that he yearned to receive that same tenderness.

Once the horses were tacked up and one of the instructors had given Alex some brief pointers on how to ride, he found himself following Willie on a trail while mounted on a painted mare. The only philosophy he could adopt out here was to be gentle and not get lost.

“Not so bad, your majesty,” Willie called over to him.

An extremely nervous laugh elicited from Alex’s throat involuntarily, only making Willie laugh in return. Alex rode a little closer so they were nearly side by side on the trail.

“I’ve been here once,” he said. “I think I was about twelve? My mom thought that it would make me change my mind about taking ballet classes. We rode for maybe fifteen minutes before I got so nervous we had to turn back around and go home. Never made it through the full trail.”

“Man, that sucks,” Willie commented. “I didn’t know you did ballet.”

“Yeah, that and a few other types of dance. I was forced to quit a little couple years ago. That’s about when we got serious as a band, so I just found something else to bother my parents with.”

He could see the gears click into place as Willie came to a few conclusions about his parents and gave an emphatic nod.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance. That was the one thing Caleb had promised to teach me. He’s the worst, but he definitely knows how to dance.”

Suddenly, Alex remembered watching Caleb’s movements when he’d served him and the boys at the diner. Of course he could dance; everything had been fluid and smooth. All he could say to that thought was “huh,” at first. Then after a few moments: “I’ll have to teach you one of these days then.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at the prospect.

“Yeah, okay! Add that to our to-do list.”

Alex chuckled. They had a to-do list now. He bit his lip as he continued following Willie along the trail. It was a gorgeous day and in this area the sky was so clear compared to further inside the city. Greatly contrasting his experience from years ago, Alex felt himself become much more at ease and felt confident enough to take greater control of his horse. Willie pulled out his camera and snapped a few scenic photos every once in a while.

Eventually, they stopped at an outlook and Alex had to take in an awed breath. The view was clear for miles all around them. Green hills spanned the landscape in every direction with patches of city speckled in between. Even the ocean line was visible from there. How did Willie know how to find these?

“Hey, Alex!” Willie called, lifting his camera. “Say cheese!”

Turning to face him, Alex flashed a genuine smile as Willie captured him atop his horse against the scenery. He was usually pretty camera shy, but this time he really didn’t mind. Keeping memories like this actually felt important to him, unlike the many times he’d been forced to pose with his family at functions he’d also been made to attend. Those occasions had always felt so insincere - less about enjoying the memory and more about trying to prove their status as the polished, functional family everyone aspired to.

He saw Willie dismount for a moment and stretch his legs. Gripping the reins and looking around in uncertainty, Alex realized he’d gotten on before ensuring he could properly get off. Thankfully, Willie noticed and came up to him, hands raised.

“Okay, so just...carefully lift your foot out of the stirrup and swing your leg over toward me,” he instructed. Sucking in a breath hesitantly, Alex did as he said. “Alright, then...here.” Willie offered a hand for Alex to grab so he could slide off with ease. Landing on the ground, he leaned into Willie to gain his balance, and felt a congratulatory pat on his back. It took more restraint than Alex anticipated to not simply wrap his arms around him and sit like that for an indefinite amount of time. They had all day ahead of them; he didn’t need the sudden fear of losing him to derail things out of nowhere.

“Sorry if I look like a wimp about all this,” he said, letting go of his hand.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Willie assured him, shaking his head. “This is...this is new.”

His eyes seemed to take Alex in from head to toe and Alex could’ve sworn the charge in the air between them would buzz if they got closer, spark if they made contact. It was almost like that moment in front of Willie’s door the week before. For a few seconds they remained locked in that trance before Willie took hold of the horse’s reins and handed them to Alex.

“Technically this trail could take hours, but I’m guessing this isn’t all you’re interested in today,” he said. “What do you say we stretch our legs a bit and then ride back?”

Looking from the reins in his hand back to Willie, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Opening his backpack, Willie handed him an apple and then bit down into one of his own. Taking a bite, it was one of the most refreshing apples Alex ever eaten. They walked the horses a little ways and tried to get good pictures of the different views around them. Alex asked to try his hand with the camera and get a few good shots of Willie. He didn’t consider himself a photographer, but he doubted when the photos got developed that they would turn out badly. The way Willie smiled made him seem like he was made of sunlight from the inside out.

As they rode back to the barn, Alex kept replaying those moments where he’d refrained from making a move over in his head. This had been strike two. If he continued on like this, he was going to hate himself for the rest of eternity, he was pretty sure. Was it some weird kind of side effect of the whole ‘Willie come back to life’ thing? Watching him affectionately say goodbye to his horse once they were ready to leave, Alex looked at his own horse and raised a tentative hand up to her nose.

The mare gazed back, patience gleaming in her eyes. He finally set his hand down on her nose and gently rubbed it up and down, smiling a little to himself. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this - it was just a matter of getting through all the barriers he made for himself in his head. Moving his hands from the horse’s nose, he stroked along her neck, and caught Willie smiling at him from the corner of his eye.

“You wanna try feeding her an apple?” he asked.

Thinking for a few seconds, Alex nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling one out of his backpack, Willie placed it in Alex’s palm.

“Alright, so hold it out in front of you like this…” He positioned Alex to offer the apple. “And keep your palm flat.”

Alex uncurled his fingers and after sniffing at it a little the mare ate it out of his hand. He could ignore the sensation of her mouth touching him because Willie still had his arm around his shoulder to hold him steady. They looked at each other, and Alex wished he could get a proper shot at Willie’s face at that angle with the camera.

“Looks like you’re gonna get the hang of this,” Willie commended.

Alex looked back up at the horse, a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Later, they went to the beach at Alex’s suggestion. He was perched on the surface of a picnic table, posed as if he were looking off into the distance. Willie sketched with great concentration, having taken his hair out of his braids so he could run his hand through it. The late afternoon sun brought out all the best color contrasts in their surroundings - one of the things Alex loved about coming to the beach at this time of day.

“So I have a question,” Alex started, trying not to move too much. His tendency to talk with his hands kept getting him in trouble.

“Shoot,” Willie prompted him, not looking up.

“Did Caleb let you go to school or anything? Or did he provide any sort of education at all?”

Squinting, Willie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, after the accident, he told me that I’d had to be taken out of school,” he began, continuing to sketch. “Which makes sense, I guess, if I forgot everything. I remember some basic things, like math wasn’t hard to pick up again. Once I was recovered enough to go places, he just let me go to the public library and find whatever I wanted to read. But he always insisted on not having reminders of who I was before and said it was supposed to be helping me ‘become my own person’. He got rid of things like my school yearbooks and old journals and things. I didn’t think anything of it at first because he’d just called it useless clutter and I believed him. As soon as he decided I was fit enough to work in the diner and help out at the hotel, he told me to forget about school. Anything else I picked up was from watching TV, or listening to the radio, or something. Sometimes I’ll just remember I know something after hearing about it and it’s like it was just always there.”

Listening intently, Alex marveled at the whole thing. The fact that Caleb was not only negligent, but actively discouraging Willie from knowing anything, made him wish he could take down the man’s whole career. However, he figured Willie probably had a lot of his intelligence still untapped. If he’d been able to get away from Caleb and somehow create a life for himself in the span of a few months, Alex wondered what else he was capable of.

“What’s something you remember?” he wondered.

“I guess I used to be really obsessed with space. Just planets and stars and all that. I can spout off facts about Jupiter’s moons and stuff like that. Did you know that the moon Europa has a saltwater ocean under a layer of ice?”

Alex shook his head. “No, I didn’t. That sounds really cool though.” He thought of the stickers on Willie’s ceiling and smirked a little before reassuming his pose.

“I sort of wish I could remember being in school,” Willie was saying. “Everyone else seems to just share all of those memories and understand each other that way.”

Alex saw his brow furrow, and could tell he felt left out. He pondered on his own experience growing up in public school. There was almost no other way he would’ve met Luke, Bobby and Reggie if they hadn’t all attended the same schools. While he could easily critique and complain about it to no end, he knew it was a privilege.

“School is definitely hard,” he told Willie. “But I did get my friends out of it, and I guess that makes up for it. If it’s any consolation, you could just complain about Caleb like he was your horrible English teacher who thought he knew more about the subject of your essay, but you cited all of your sources and they proved him completely wrong.”

Willie laughed. “Why? Did that happen to you?”

Alex bobbed his head from side to side and feigned looking thoughtful . “Maybe.”

“I kind of like reducing him to a loser English teacher. He just sounds petty and sad.”

“That’s high school,” Alex confirmed.

Leaning back from his work for a minute to take it all in, Willie brushed a hand through his hair.

“Here, you wanna take a look at it?” he said. Alex hopped off the table and went to stand over Willie’s shoulder at the drawing and was immediately rendered speechless. The detail was impeccable, but Alex was more impressed by the feeling he got looking at it. Willie had managed to make him appear...handsome, and pensive, and fascinating, like anyone else could look at him and create a million unique ideas of who he was. However, it wasn’t anyone else looking at him, it was Willie, and what he’d captured felt like the truth. Alex couldn’t really explain what that meant, only that it was an honest representation.

“Okay, I know I said the one back at your place made me look good, but this is...this is unreal.”

He could see Willie trying to be modest, but the corners of his lips couldn’t stay down. Funny enough, he appeared even more unable to find words, and simply beamed as he looked back and forth between his sketch and Alex’s face.

A sudden impulse came over Alex, and he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of Willie’s skateboard and backpack. Willie sat looking flustered for a moment.

“Wanna swim?” Alex nodded toward the waves, bidding Willie to follow. He didn’t wait for him to catch up as he immediately began running into the waves up to his knees. Alex knew his pants would be even more ruined the second he hit the salty water, but he didn’t care. Now the sun was beginning to set and the chill of the waves was refreshing, and he couldn’t express what he felt just then in any other way.

Willie tackled him from behind, climbing onto his back and nearly knocking him over into the shallow tide. Clambering back to his feet, Alex splashed water at him. They began a playful water fight back and forth, until they were both drenched. Eventually, Alex tried to catch hold of both Willie’s hands in an attempt to prevent being splashed anymore. He had the advantage of longer arms, but before he could get a tight hold of the second arm Willie’s leg swept under his and they both fell just as a large wave washed over them.

As the water pulled back, they sat in the sand in a tangle, laughing. All Alex could think of was how pretty Willie was in this light, hair swept back off his face with tendrils resting over his shoulders, sun gleaming in his eyes and constantly shining from the inside out. The laughter died between them and he caught a look in Willie’s eye that made him wonder if he appeared to him to be just as perfect in that moment.

This time his mind and body worked in sync as he lifted a hand and gently pulled Willie into a short, tender kiss. All the self-flagellation from earlier was washed away in one pure moment, and exhilaration moved into its place. It felt soft and sweet, just the way he expected it should. Just as quickly as he’d let go, Willie went in for another one, a little longer and a little deeper. One hand remained caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around his upper back. Alex couldn’t help smiling into another kiss; he was too happy to care about anything else. Hardly a week ago, this had been impossible.

As they let go, their hands came together and they looked into each other's eyes, both releasing a relieved chuckle. Willie looked at the rest of the beach behind them and Alex’s eyes followed, but at this hour there were too few people around and no one paying attention to them. Turning back to Alex, Willie sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Wow,” was all he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, I’d definitely do that again,” Alex smirked, until the joy in his chest converted it into a full grin.

A wave washed over them again and they both stood, shaking out their hair and trying to wipe off whatever sand they could. Heading back up the beach, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand so they could make their way up together. The sun was nearly set but Alex was sure it had just gone into his chest, bursting with excitement. Once they reached the picnic table, they gathered their things and Willie offered to carry Alex’s shirt inside his backpack on the way home. Thank goodness there were a few patches of grass so Alex could try to get a little more sand off his feet before putting his shoes back on.

“So how long have you been sitting on that?” Willie teased as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and they left the beach.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, knowing he was being called out.

“No, really!” Willie bumped his side jokingly. “I want to know!”

Tilting his head back to try to remember, it didn’t take Alex long to give him the answer.

“Since day one,” he told him.

Surprise swept over Willie’s face as he looked at Alex.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Alex nodded.

“Me too.”

It was Alex’s turn to look surprised. Without saying another word, he took Willie’s hand in his and then kissed it before continuing back toward his place. The whole way they talked about all the different things they needed to do together in the future. Riding on more horse trails, dancing lessons, skating lessons, art modeling sessions, going to band practices and gigs, visiting the record store while Willie wasn’t working, etc. They both agreed that the entire day technically counted as a date, and all further plans would as well. Alex was reminded once again that he didn’t have a notebook to write things down in, and vowed to have one for the next time he saw Willie. Once they reached Willie’s door, they had already put their shirts back on and it was completely dark outside.

“Are you free any time next week?” Willie asked, still holding onto Alex’s hand.

“I wish I could say yes, but probably not. And as much as I’d love to give you my number, it’s really not the best idea.”

“Well, I could give you mine,” Willie said.

Alex shot him a confused look. Holding up a finger, Willie dug into his backpack until he found his sketchbook and tore off the corner of a page, quickly scribbling one down and handing it to Alex.

“It’s actually the one for work,” he said. “But if it’s what we can do for now, I’ll do it. Kyle won’t care.”

Looking at it for a minute and then stashing it in his now-dry pocket, Alex took hold of Willie’s chin and went to kiss him again. It was really hard to stop, but they soon broke apart.

“I gotta go,” Alex murmured.

Willie only nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go and slipping his own into his pocket.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

Once again heading up the short set of stairs to the sidewalk, Alex rubbed his lips together, relishing in the taste of what he and Willie had just done. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter.

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buttdawg · 5 years

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I'm still pissed about Jim Cornette, so I guess I'll write about it here.

I listened to his podcast yesterday to see if there would be any contrition over his Ethiopia joke, and there really wasn't. The closest he got was to express regret for distracting attention away from NWA, which he seems to sincerrly wish to support. Then he offered this conditional apology based on how people reacted to what he said:

1) If you disliked his joke and thought it was in poor taste, he apologizes for what he said.

2) If you're Black and found it offensive, he didn't intend for it to be racist.

3) If you're outraged by what he said, beyond what he thinks is reasonable for a situation like this, then you can fuck off, because he never cared what you think of him anyway.

That's just bullshit, and I'm gonna tell you why. In the same podcast, he admits that he has anger management issues. He's gone on record as saying that if there was a way to do it legally, he would murder Vince Russo in cold blood. He carries a lifelong grudge against Kenny Omega because he wrestled an inflatable doll in Japan several years ago. And yet this guy has the temerity to complain when he thinks people are overreacting to him. "Whoa, whoa, come on, people, it was just a joke. Why are you so bent out of shape over this?" Well the blow up doll was a joke too, but you still want Kenny Omega run out of the wrestling business for it.

I've been listening to a few Cornette podcasts since AEW started, mostly because they were free on YouTube, and because Corny's a lot easier to listen to than the schmucks at Wrestling Observer. I found a lot of his hatred towards AEW unfair, but occasionally he made some valid points. Like the Cody/Dustin vs Young Bucks match going too long. He said it felt like they did three shorter matches in one, and the first leg was the best of the three, so they would have been smarter to wrap it up early and end on a high note. When he said that, I was like "Hey yeah," because I felt the same way but I couldn't put it into words at the time.

But mostly he just hates AEW for the unforgivable crime of existing in spite of his complaints. He respects and likes maybe a third of its talent, but he can't seem to fathom why those guys put up with the two-thirds that he hates. Maybe it's because guys like Cody and Jericho and Hangman Page are smart enough to understand that they're good for business, even if they have different styles in the ring. Cornette's problem is that he's too brittle.

That, and he's a hypocrite. He keeps ragging on wrestlers for exposing the business and not looking enough like real athletes. He craps on guys like Joey Janela for not looking muscular enough, sort of like how he crapped on Kevin Steen before he went to WWE and became a multi-time champion. I'm sure Joey's terrified of suffering the same fate. One of Cornette's talking points is how they don't just sign anyone for the NBA, and they don't just bring fans in to play the Super Bowl because they want to. But that's stupid. Joey and Marko Stunt got signed to AEW. They're legit members of the roster, and they're over. The only downside to these guys is that they don't look like football players, except nobody cares about that, so it isn't a problem at all.

Cornette gripes and gripes about professionalism in wrestling, and how there's no room for cheap gimmicks or bad comedy, except his entire decades-long career in wrestling has been spent acting as an insult comic with a loud suit and a tennis racket. He's probably mad at Kenny Omega for wrestling the blow-up doll because he kind of looks like a blow-up doll, so maybe he took it personally. He cries about kayfabe and protecting the business at all costs, and then he uses every opportunity he has to bury wrestlers and air all the dirty laundry from backstage. Every episode of NWA Powerrr had at least one instance of him bashing AEW as "cosplay" wrestling, which doesn't help anybody. If you don't watch AEW, you wouldn't know what he's talking about, and if you watch NWA and AEW, then he's insulting your taste. It's bad announcing, pure and simple. He's only out there to push his own agenda, not the wrestlers.

I can give him a modicum of respect for resigning from NWA. According to his podcast, he only worked for them to help support their product, because he believes so much in what they're doing. But it's become clear that the controversey he generates is distracting the public from NWA's brand. I read a tweet from Nick Aldis this week where he was very diplomatic and expressed great regret for what Cornette had said. He said it didn't represent what he wanted NWA to be. I like Nick Aldis, because I can tell that he's trying as hard as he can to carry himself like the "Real World's Chamion" in the tradition of Ric Flair and Harley Race. I don't know if he's succeeding or not, but I respect the effort he's putting in, because he wants to make NWA special and he wants to be a champion in a way that Chris Jericho and Brock Lesnar and Bray Wyatt aren't. But as long as Cornette was associated with the brand, his efforts would always be undercut by whatever whackamaroo nonsense he says next.

So maybe Cornette had that in mind when he quit, but from his podcast, I got the sense that it's not like he needed the job, and it wasn't fun anymore, and he was getting fed up with the PR headaches. That explains why he was so flippant on NWA Powerrr. He was showing up to have fun and relive the old days. Nick Aldis ain't there to screw around. He's trying to build a better career for himself and his co-workers.

And it's that flippancy that pisses me off. Cornette stopped giving a fuck years ago, I guess because he's got a successful business selling merch and dvds of old matches and public appearances and such. He doesn't need to "protect the business" anymore because he's got his own business separate from any promotion. His gigs with MLW and NWA are a way for him to promote his stuff, so if he says something shitty on their air, it just drives up hits on his website. That's the worst possible scenario for a color commentator. Cornette cries foul because Excalibur wears a mask on AEW Dynamite, but at least Ex is concentrating on making AEW talent look good. He's not telling racist jokes to fill dead air, or to get more eyeballs on his website.

It's impossible for me to express how stupid that Ethiopia joke was. The racism was so obvious that it makes all the defenses of it especially flimsy. Cornette insists he was mocking starving people, like that makes it okay. He told the story of how he invented the joke and Ray Traylor thought it was hilarious in 1985, and TBS and USA never got in trouble for it, so that somehow makes it okay forever. Cornette's fans talk about how they think the joke's okay, simply because they thought it was funny, like that makes a bit of difference in a PR situation like this.

Then you see people cry about how "sensitive" everyone is these days. Like, no shit, that's how public relations works. If your business does something offensive enough, it hurts your brand and your business suffers. So you have to be mindful of people's sensitivity. Complaining about it is useless. That'd be like going on Twitter after the Notre Dame fire and saying "Wood sure is flammable these days." Well how does that solve anything, dumbass?

It's all a bunch of bullshit. Cornette's using thirty-year old jokes because a dead guy laughed at it once and he's too arrogant to re-evaluate it for the present day. He's mad at wrestling fans for objecting to his behavior, except they're the customers, for fuck's sake. I've never seen anyone so obsessed with protecting the business and simultaneously so insulting towards the people who pay for the product. He hates AEW because he doesn't approve of their methods. Except they do good business and can sell out buildings pretty regularly. There's clearly an audience for how AEW does things. You tell him that, and he'll respond that their audience doesn't count, because they're all 30 or 40 something single men who are probably virgins or they're lose interest when the next fad comes along. So it's not enough to sell out a venue, you have to get x percent old people and y percent women and z percent children, or whatever they used to draw in Mid South in 1987. Dave Meltzer likes AEW, so Cornette now thinks he's an idiot too, even though he's been covering wrestling for decades. He's trapped himself in this binary mindset where the only real wrestling fans are the ones who agree with him and approve of his dated jokes and out-of touch worldview. Everyone else deserves to be shot.

That's why NWA is better off without Cornette. They may not realize it, but he was never on their side, not really. Sooner or later they would have offended his rigid, inflexible sense of What Wrestling Should Be, and he'd turn on them too. At least this way, it's a clean break, and they don't have him talking about fried chicken during Nick Aldis matches or how Trevor Murdoch's beer gut is somehow more athletic than Kenny Omega in a Street Fighter costume.

#jim cornette #nwa #in hindsight i guess the only real reason i listened to cornette's podcasts was because i enjoyed aew so much #that i wanted to get more aew content #even if it was to hear someone complain about it #but yeah i'm done with that shit

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