#pieces of shit to him and spreading bullshit in the MAIN TAGS and calling him problematic for every breath he took back in 2019

[isa-ghost]

ok no i need to get smth outta my system rq, dont rb this or i’ll block you

[lesbianlovelanguage]

YOUTUBER AU I’m such a fucking sucker for those. It can be anything you want really. Maybe they are friends doing a challenge or something and they end up kissing (or more ;)) or they could meet each other at like a creator even and take a pic together and everyone starts to ship them... :)

HI! Anon I am so sorry, life has been *general handwaving* a MESS. But, I’ve finally gotten most of my shit together and look! A fic! Finally!!! I hope you enjoy two ridiculous boys being ridiculous.

---

“You guys asked for it, and here it is. The explanation to Bendy and the Ink Machine! Now, I’ve watched a ton of playthroughs of this, especially The RatKing’s, as well as played through it myself, and I think I’ve got it.” 

Such a simple statement, it made it through both of the editors as well as Steve and Dustin themselves without raising any red flags. But as with everything, once it had been released on the internet it became fuel for fans to break apart and over analyze. 

The comments started pouring in, the standard mix of support and people trying to break apart his theory. But one comment in particular would stand out and begin something so much bigger than itself. 

Twenty minutes after Steve had pressed upload, someone with the username Random Hoe posted a comment saying Awe! A collab between you and Billy would be totes amazing!! While an innocent comment in itself, it began to pick up steam as people ranted and demanded for the two popular youtubers to interact more. It turned from video ideas to outright shipping within two hours, and only five hours after the video had been up, people began tagging Steve on Twitter with everything from edited screen grabs to fanart and video edits, all about Steve and Billy’s secret yet undying love for each other. 

Steve had almost quit Youtube as the fanbase for what had been dubbed “Stilly” steadily grew and became all the more ravenous. There were less and less comments and reactions to his theories, whether movie, video game, or even book related, and more and more comments about how he needed to do a collab with Billy ASAP, and how he’s queerbaiting, and how it’s okay to come out, it was 20Gayteen after all. He had tried to do damage control, but it only made things worse. 

And then someone showed Billy, and Steve not only wanted to quit Youtube, but also crawl under a rock. 

Billy’s only reaction to someone sending him a picture of Steve and Billy during a live stream was “Nice art, like the hair,” but Steve could have sworn his mouth twitched down in a grimace before Billy recovered his composure. 

But Dustin had convinced Steve to keep going, and with two months of no recognition or new content, the frenzy of Stilly shipping died down. It never disappeared, but no one sent anymore art to Billy and stopped tagging Steve in all of their posts. That had been in February. 

Vidcon was in June, and Stilly was the least of Steve’s worries. He’d been asked to host a panel on the new game show he and Dustin had begun hosting on Youtube TV about pop culture trivia, and then host a live episode with various Youtube guests as competitors. It promised to be relatively simple, a simple explanation of the origin and behind-the-scenes and a simple Q&A session followed by what he spent every Thursday doing for the past two months. And it was, him and Dustin breezing through the panel bouncing off of each other and the first round of Did You Know? You Don’t Say? flying by as the famed beauty guru aced almost every question. But once the second guest stepped on stage, Steve knew it was all going to go to shit. 

Because Billy Hargrove, The Rat King himself, swaggered out on the stage in flip flops and an Everlast crop top and flopped into the contestant’s chair with a smirk. Steve froze, mouth suddenly drier than a desert. 

Luckily, Dustin didn’t even stutter. “Ah! The next victim. Should we go easy on him?” He waggled his eyebrows as he asked the audience. The audience shouting brought Steve out of his daze, and with a shake of his head, he turned and spread his arms out wide. 

“Well then, let’s begin. So, Billy, Do you know what the rarest MnM color is?” 

The cocky smirk melted off of Billy’s face, replaced by one of thoughtful determination. He’s silent for only a moment before he looks up and says, “Brown, like your eyes, Pretty Boy.” Steve feels his pale skin flush with heat, but he coughs and tries to play it off.

“Quite the charmer there, Rat King. Luckily, your lines are actually true. One point! Let’s see it!” He calls out and then looks behind him to the television screen currently displaying the scoreboard. A large blocky 1 appears and the audience cheers. 

“Alrighty then,” Dustin says after the crowd dies down. “Next question. Billy, Do you know the original name of Istanbul?” Billy chuckles, and shakes his head.

“Easy. Constantinople.”

Dustin fake pouts and looks over to Billy. “None of that Rat King charm for me?” The audience laughs, and Billy chuckles before throwing a wink at Dustin.

“Not quite old enough to ride this ride, bud.” 

Dustin scoffs and shakes his head, making the curls bounce around wildly. “Whatever you say, old man. You did get it right by the way. Let me see another point!” Dustin mimics Steve and gestures towards the scoreboard which now shows a big, white 2. 

“Your turn, Pretty Boy. Give me something hard.”

“Alright. Let’s see.” Steve pretends to look over his notes before seeing the perfect question. “So, Billy, Do you know which two American states don’t observe daylight savings time?” Billy stares blankly at Steve. This was the final question in their lineup, but he had asked for a hard question. 

Luckily, Billy recovers quickly and clears his throat before giving another chuckle. “Damn, I know I said give me a hard one, but I wasn’t expecting that. I’m gonna go with Hawaii and Alaska?” Steve shakes his head and gives a small sigh. 

Dustin gives a little cheer, and then runs over to a table off to the side of the stage where they have a cue card that the contestant has to read off of if they lose. It was Dustin’s idea, the You don’t say? part of the title. It’s his favorite part of the show, because they get to see their contestants say some ridiculous things.

“Well, unfortunately, that was incorrect,” Steve announces over the booing audience. “And, following the rules, you now have to read whatever is on this card.” Dustin hands Billy the cue card with a wicked grin. 

Billy sighs and flips over the card. There’s a moment of silence as he reads over what the card says, and then he looks up at Steve and clears his throat.

“Would a Pretty Boy want to go out with me?” He says in a clear voice, gaze never leaving Steve’s. 

Suddenly too many things for Steve to process happen at once. He feels the heat return to his cheeks and his mouth dry out again, the audience goes wild, and a buzzer sounds, signaling that they were out of time for Did You Know? You Don’t Say? Dustin comes through and pushes a frozen Steve off-stage, where Billy is waiting in the wings. With the audience’s weighty gaze gone, the feeling returns to Steve all at once.

“What the hell man? What was that out there?” He hissed at Billy. The man simply shrugs and gives another one of his trademark smirks.

“Just giving the people what they want, Princess. Try to keep up.” And then he turns around, and walks away. Simple as that. Nothing to it. 

Steve wants to scream. Fortunately, he and Dustin have been friends for years, and he knows all of Steve’s tics by now. The stagehands shoo them from the wings, and he pulls Steve through one of the backdoors to outside the convention center. Somehow, he also procures a water bottle in the hustle, and hands it to Steve once they’re both sitting on the steps outside. Steve takes the water bottle gratefully and chugs half of it in one long gulp. He pulls it away and wipes at his face before sighing. He seems to deflate, like a balloon losing all of its helium at once, and Dustin puts an arm around him. It’s awkward because he’s shorter than Steve, but it’s still comforting nonetheless. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dustin asks quietly.

“I- I’m so stupid. For just a second I thought it was real, but why would it be? What would someone like him see in someone like me?” Dustin lets out a huff before pulling away and turning towards Steve.

“Steve, buddy, pal o’ mine. You’re an idiot. If anything, he doesn’t deserve you. He’s a pompous ass for pulling a stunt like that. It’s bullshit.” 

“He could have anyone. Between his paycheck and his pecs, he’s one of Youtube’s hottest content creators.”

“Yeah, sure. But for the sake of alliteration, he also lacks personality. The guy’s a huge dick! And he proved it today. He knew that you wouldn’t shut him down and bitch him out on stage, so he thought it would be funny to pull that shit.”

“Yeah, he is kind of just a publicity-seeking asshole, you’re right,” Steve admits, feeling a little better, and a lot angrier. “You know what, Dusty-Poo? I’m gonna find him, and give him a piece of my mind.” He stands up, itching for a fight and knowing who to go find for one.

“Tha-that’s not exactly what I meant but sure! Go knock him down a peg.” Dustin stands up as well and follows Steve back onto the main showfloor. 

It takes about twenty minutes to find Billy amongst the crowd but Steve sees him, and locks in like a tiger stalking his prey. Or something cool like that. Thankfully, Steve doesn’t have to make a huge scene as he walks up to Billy and gets in his face. 

“You. Me. Conference Room 3. Now,” Steve says, poking a finger in the middle of Billy’s chest to emphasize his point. Billy chuckles, but still follows along as they walk into the empty conference room. Once they clear the doors and Steve hears them swing shut behind them, he turns to Billy.

“Explain. What the fuck was the point of that little,” he wavs his hand around, “stunt you pulled during the game show?” 

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Told you Pretty Boy. I gave the people what they wanted. 

“So that’s it? It was a publicity stunt?” 

“You tell me. You’re the one who started the whole thing,” Billy shoots back, still holding on to an air of nonchalance, but Steve can his patience waning.

“You- you mean the stuff from February? When I happened to mention you in one video? You think I meant for that shitstorm to start, for fun and publicity?” 

Billy only shrugs again.

“Okay. Nope. Again, I mentioned your channel one time, as a source. Gave credit where credit was due. I do it for all the channels I watch! I’ve mentioned Nancy’s channel like 8 times, and Jonathan’s too. Never had this shit started with them.”

“They’re married, Steve. Like super married. Of course it wouldn’t. We’re both single, queer youtubers. Of course shit’s gonna stop. Didn’t your agent or whoever look over your video?”

Steve huffs. “Oh yeah, let me just go hire an agent, cause I have such a need for someone to monitor my every move,” Steve snarked. Billy just looked at him like he had failed to add 2 and 3.

“You’re telling me you, part of one of the biggest channels on Youtube, don’t have an agent?” 

“We’re not one of the biggest channels, and we’ve never needed one! We’ve got our team of editors and assistants, no need for some agent.”

“Steve,” Billy says patiently, like he was explaining something to a child, “You have over 4 million subscribers. That’s a big channel.” 

“We’re still not one of the biggest channels, dipshit.”

“Oh, I'm the dipshit? I didn’t start a fucking fandom frenzy apparently by accident. Because I was smart and got a fucking agent.”

“You’re such an asshole.” 

“Whatever you say Princess.”

“Stop fucking calling me a princess!” Steve screams, voice booming in the silent conference room. “Why do you do that? Pretty Boy, Princess, Stevie? Just- just stop with the fucking nicknames. It’s not fair.” The second part of his outburst comes out as a whisper, sounding almost desperate. 

Billy was at a loss for words, but then again, he had always been more of a man of action. 

So he says nothing, only gives a seconds’ thought of what he was going to do, before lunging forward and doing it. 

Steve’s next words are muffled as Billy crashes their lips together with absolutely no finesse, teeth clacking. It probably constituted as the worst kiss Billy has ever had, but as he moves back, Steve grabs a fist full of blond locks and pulls him forward. Their 

second kiss is far better. By no means is it soft, but that was just par for the course with them wasn’t it? 

The kiss comes to a natural ending as they both pull back to breath, before Steve starts to giggle. 

“You really need to work on your pick-up lines, Rat King.”

A soft gasp from the doorway cuts off Billy’s retort, and they both turn to see a girl decked out in Youtube merch, including a jacket with the Upside Down Theories logo on it. She had dropped her backpack, and was open-mouthed gaping at the two. Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates as she frantically gathers up her backpack and shoots out of the conference room. 

“Chances that this blows up online by tomorrow?” Steve asks, turning to the blond next to him. 

“I’m betting in the next two hours, Pretty Boy,” Billy replies.

A wicked smirk creeps onto Steve’s lips as he shrugs and says, “Oops. What was that about getting an agent to help with this stuff?” 

---

Aside from this taking FOREVER, I hope you guys enjoy this! It was tons of fun to write.

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @catharrington @trashycatarcade @myboyfriendsteve @thesummerof84 @lightsupinthenorth @smashmouth-hargrove (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

[mego42]

while I was not specifically prompted, @foxmagpie posted a fic request that made my brain go hmmmmmmmm, so I went ahead and pretended it was a prompt for me because I do what I want.

i want to read a fic from rio’s POV of 2.10 when annie reached out to him both because i think annie trying to arrange a business proposition would be hilarious but also because i suspect that rio thought beth was either orchestrating things or that it would be a way to get her back and i wanna get in his head about it

can we meet

All in all, it's a pretty standard text. Rio could probably scroll through his phone and find at least 15 others at any given point. More if he didn't dump his phones every week or two. Even more if he didn't have Mick filtering most of the bullshit for him. 

But that's the thing, he does have Mick, which means when these kinds of texts make it all the way to him, he knows who they're from and what they want. The problem here is he doesn't know who the fuck this is or what they want or, most importantly, how the fuck they got this number. 

And that last part especially is a big enough fuckin' problem that he shuts his laptop and scoops up his phone, swiping through to call and see who it is. 

"Hello?"

He doesn't immediately recognize the voice that picks up, though it pings something. He waits, still not saying anything, figurin' he'll either place it, or they'll give themselves away. It's fuckin' unbelievable the kind of shit people will say if he just keeps his mouth shut and waits 'em out. 

"Is this…" The voice trails off, and he's right on the cusp of placin' it, can feel a face bubbling to the surface when it continues in a whisper. "Gang friend?"

The fuckin' sister. 

Rio's mouth snaps shut so hard it sends a pang through his jaw, and he's pretty sure she heard his teeth click together over the phone. 

There are motherfuckers who would kill—hell, who have killed—for his number, and here's this suburban bopper callin' him up like she can summon him or some shit. Like she has the right.

And isn't that just like Elizabeth, makin' her sister call? After her pretty little fuckin' speech, that prim, butter wouldn't melt it's over, leavin' his cut on the goddamn nightstand like he was some kind of hired help. 

His phone case creaks, giving slightly under the force of his grip, and he forces himself to relax. He leans back in his chair, drumming his fingers on his desk, tryin' to figure out how he wants to play this.  

He fuckin' knew it. 

He's not about to pretend the victory isn't at least a little sweet underneath the bitter rage just thinking 'bout their stalemate brings to the surface. He knew Elizabeth wasn't gonna walk away. She couldn't, she didn't have it in her. 

It isn't enough, though, knowing he was right. It's barely a dent, a scratch, a fuckin' scuff in the debt she owes him, the mountain of shit he's gonna make her pay for.

"Hello?"

He hasn't said anything yet, and it's makin' the sister antsy, he can tell. There's a static, scratching noise, and he realizes she's put her thumb over the speaker or something because he can hear what she says next, but it's muffled. 

"Are you sure this is the right number?"

Something in him bottoms out—he's not exactly tryin' too hard to identify what. The bright, bitter flair of satisfaction's gone as quickly as it came, leaving a dark, hollow space behind. 

The sister's actin' out then, going rogue. Elizabeth knows damn well what his number is. She hasn't exactly been too shy 'bout usin' it whenever she needs a payday loan. Or other services for that fuckin' matter. 

He can't help but laugh at that, but it's a harsh, biting sound. The audacity must be genetic. 

"Okay, now I know you're there. Stop being a dick."

He should hang the fuck up, now that he knows who it is. Hang up, block the number, forget all about that bitch and the sister. It's probably the smartest thing to do, all told. 

Except. Except she fuckin' owes him, and Rio hasn't gotten to the top by letting debts go unanswered. 

"What?" He asks, giving the t an edge sharp enough to cut. 

There's a pause. "What like you didn't hear me, or what like what do I want?"

Rio adjusts a potted bromeliad's alignment on the corner of his desk, running a finger along the edge of one of the tall, spikey leaves. Mick had dropped it on his desk one day with no fanfare, only snide commentary about Rio needing to take a vacation, and maybe this'll get him thinkin' 'bout it.

The annoying part is, it's not like the disrespectful fucker's wrong. Rio knows damn well he's let himself get far too twisted up in Elizabeth's bullshit. Offerin' to deal with her problems, lettin' her get away with all kinds of amateur hour bullshit like bringing her fuckin' kids on drops. He never should've let her strong-arm him into cuttin' her in. It's not like she's the first person to try, should've dealt with her like he would anyone else, string her up and don't give her the option to not tell him where his shit is. 

Hell, further back than that, he never should've followed her into that motherfuckin' bathroom. Should've kept it business, should've never found out how soft those miles of pale skin really are, how far that delicate pink flush can spread, how unexpectedly dark and rich she tastes.

Disgusted with himself, he shoves up out of his chair, pacing around the tiny, concrete floors of the control room currently serving as his office in long, loping strides.

He should take a week. Tie things up, take Marcus to Disneyland, or some shit. Get some fuckin' distance. Perspective. 

"Hello?"

Now the sister sounds like she's getting annoyed, and Rio's really gotta do somethin' about the two of them runnin' 'round actin' like he's someone they can get away with not takin' seriously. Like he's some sort of pet. Defanged. Declawed. Fuckin' neutered. 

"Get to the point."

"I mean, I kind of did in the message." 

Rio can hear some kind of groan or somethin' from the background. Probably the friend. She was the only one of the three of them who ever seemed to really get what kind of waters they were swimming in. How deep they were and what kind of monsters lurked beneath the surface.

"Yeah, that ain't really how we do things."

"I know, I...look—" He has to yank the phone away from his ear when she sighs, loud as shit, right into it. "Something...I mean, um. I know Beth quit, but, uh…"

He tunes her out, the way she's going, she'll be stutterin' her way around to her point about a half an hour from now. 

She wants a fuckin' favor, a hookup. They always do. Not just these bitches but everyone. Once you're at the top, all people want is a piece; it's only a matter of whether or not they're gonna beg for it or try to take it. Every now and then, they try to earn it. 

It’s one of the things he'd liked best about Elizabeth from the jump. Yeah, sure, she was arrogant as shit, struttin' 'round in those heels like she understood the rules the world played by. Like she could twist anything and everything' round her pretty little fingers and get away with whatever the fuck she wanted as long as she batted those big, blue eyes just right. 

But she was willin' to work for it. She might’ve expected to be awarded a piece just because she worked hard and that was the fair exchange for her effort. And isn’t that a trip? The idea of livin’ in a world where fair meant somethin’. Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t gonna get down in the dirt and scrap for it. 

Her problem is—well, one of 'em, he doesn't even have enough warehouses to house 'em all—she looked out at her tidy little garden and thought that was the dirt. She didn't want to accept there's a whole other subterranean playing field underneath all of that. 

He'd seen it though, the thing with teeth and claws she had locked up inside her. It'd come out in flashes and splinters, peaking through the bars of the cage she kept it in, eyes flashing, tail lashing, and he couldn't help it, the urge to see what would happen if he pulled its tail. Let it loose. 

Rio stops pacing, coming to a halt in front of one of the huge paneled windows in the exterior wall of his office, leaning up against the edge and looking out. The panes are dingy, giving his view of the Michigan winter sky a bleak, barren cast. Not that it needed any more of one. This warehouse sits on the edge of a train yard, the miles of rust and concrete below reaching out towards the horizon. All grey and dirty red, broken up by the occasional patch of strangled grass or vibrant streaks of neon tags left behind to defiantly mark the artists’ passing. 

"...I guess what I'm saying is, you know, you still have options in this, um, market. If you catch my drift. I'm hoping that we can figure a way to continue this mutually beneficial arrangement…"

The sister's still going, so he ticks through his options. 

He'd have preferred Elizabeth came crawling back all on her own. That'd be ideal. He hadn't decided yet if he'd initially shut her out, make her work for reentry, and then make her pay, or go straight to the main event. It would've depended on the circumstances, what was most advantageous at the time. All good plans are flexible. He’s learned the hard way to always take contingencies into account. 

She would've, though. Come crawling back. It was only a matter of time. She's had a taste now, she'd let herself go just enough, she wasn’t gonna be able to pack herself back away in that soul-sucking suburban box of a house, of a life. Not for long.

Beyond that, there was the money. She might've thought she had enough, but four kids, three mortgages, and a moron with a talent for squandering every last thing he's given? That's a lot of financial upkeep. 

'Sides, even if she thought she was in the black, he was still keepin' tabs on all of them—it wasn't even personal, just good business, they were too new, too green, too unpredictable to go without the extra surveillance—and he knew that wasn’t the case across the board. Elizabeth might've been in an okay spot for now, but the sister and the friend sure as shit were not, and if there's one way to get Elizabeth to jump, it's come through her people. 

And on the off chance that all of that failed to come to fruition—always a possibility, she's stubborn as shit and not above gettin' into some kind of dumbass, fucked up mess to keep from backin' down—he's got his little landfill insurance policy tucked away on ice if he ever needs to really force her hand. 

"So, what do you say?" The sister‘s finally run out of steam.

Rio runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip and tucks it in his cheek. 

Now that he’s really thinkin’ about it, this might actually be a better option than any of the ones already on the table. There's no way the sister and the friend are gonna pull some shit all the way off, not on their own. He knows how to read a room, it’s been the thing that’s kept him alive more than once, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt, the two of them aren’t half as effective on their own. They don't have Elizabeth's steely determination, her gift for spinning bullshit into gold. Not only that but there’s too much friction there. They need Elizabeth to grease their wheels. He can toss 'em some piddly shit that don't matter and let 'em get tangled up. Give 'em enough rope and all of that.

And hey, it's not like he came after her—them. If anything, he's tryin' to help. He’s givin’ them the same opportunity to earn some money, build their own side hustle. He's practically the good guy here.

The thought makes him laugh, this time like it's actually funny.

"Okay, well, thanks for that. You know, you don't have to be rude. I just thought—"

"Park. 2 pm."

"What? Oh! Seriously? Okay, great. Wow, that is...phew. That is a load off, you don't even kno—"

Rio cuts her off, locking his phone and tucking it back in his pocket, then tapping his fist against the window. 

Three seagulls are down in the warehouse parking lot fighting over scraps of something. Even all the way up here, he can hear 'em cawing, screamin', tearin' into each other for the same piece of the pie. After a minute, one of ‘em rips whatever it is away from the other two, swallows it and takes off. The others follow a beat behind, and he watches the three of ‘em fly directly overhead until the building obscure his view. 

Either Elizabeth'll come to him, or this will give him a new string to tug, somethin' he can use to yank her right back under his thumb. He'll get her right back where he wants her and then he'll— He'll—

Well. He'll just have to see. 

[xfirespritex]

Freckles & Seashells

A Sami Zayn one shot

Summary: A beach day with a bunch of wrestlers turns into much more.

Pairing: Sami Zayn X Reader

Warnings: NSFW later in the story.

Tag List:

@wwesmutdonedirtcheap @hiitsmecharlie

@thedeboniardevistation @xxnobodyshero13xx  @speedilyghostlycloud

@fan-fiction-galore  @amaranthine-reign @lordoftheringsmyass  

@justtheaverageblog1​ @alpha-american​ @aineslight​ @reigns420​ @deajm2116​

@redroseblackwolfpack96​ @blondekel77​  @shieldgirl95​ @gelinas22

@vebner37 @banrioncethlenn​  @moxtiel​  @caramara3​

@fmlallthewayup​ @breezy14fan​ @secretagentfangirl​ @crowleysqueenofhell

@abominablestrowman279​ @laochbaineann

--

Going to the beach was supposed to be relaxing, not stressful. So when I’d been invited last night to join in the trip to the beach by Roderick I’d agreed quickly, thinking of how I could use a free ocean pedicure and some reading time. A large crowd of us were going and this morning, as I got ready, I got a text from one of the other girls going, Ember.

Ember: Make sure you wear your bikini, that dark blue one you look amazing in.

Y/N: Why? I want to actually swim and not end up topless!

Ember: Sami’s coming.

I froze, looking down at my simple black bathing suit that I already had on, a bit sturdier than the one Ember told me to wear. I wanted desperately to swim and not lose my top but I think I wanted to catch Sami’s eye more.

Y/N: How long until you all get here to pick me up?

Ember: ten minutes.

Y/N: okay

I changed out of my black suit quickly, digging through my bottom drawer for the aforementioned blue suit. I had just finished changing and pulling on my jean shorts and tank top when Ember called my phone, telling me to get my ass in the car. I laughed, somewhat nervously, and slipped into my flip flops, grabbing my beach bag and chair, heading out of my apartment and locking the door before going down the stairs and out to the parking lot.

Roderick was driving, his SUV had all the windows down and the sunroof looked open too. Sami sat in the passenger seat and he waved at me as I approached. I waved back before joining Ember in the backseat.

“Okay, everyone in? Anyone need anything else?” he asked.

“No,” we all chorused.

Letting out a whoop of excitement Roderick put the SUV into drive and tore out of my complex’s parking lot. The radio was on blast and I tried to act like Sami’s presence wasn’t making my heart race so I sang along with Ember in the backseat and winked at Sami in the side mirror as a dirty line in a song passed my lips.

He laughed and shouted “Don’t tempt me,” into the wind of his open window but I caught the words all the same.

When we reached the beach where we were meeting everyone else it was easy to spot the crowd of wrestlers. We were a large group and I smiled when I saw the turn out. Sami wasn’t the only wrestler from the main roster to join the mostly NXT crowd on the beach today. Tyler Breeze, Alexa Bliss, Apollo Crews, Enzo, Cass and Carmella were all there.

We spread our blankets out and I smiled as Ember positioned herself with Roderick on his blanket, her not so subtle push for Sami to lay on mine beside me.

“Oh, I see how it is, putting the pale people together,” Sami griped at her, winking at me.

“Speaking of pale,” I said, laughing as I handed Roderick the two pieces of the umbrella. He nodded to me and began to dig the bottom part into the sand. I tugged my tank top off and slid my shorts down, sitting on my blanket and digging through my bag for my sunscreen.

“Still avoiding getting a tan?” Ember asked as she laid out.

“Avoiding sunburn,” I countered.

When I found it I smiled victoriously but saw, just from Ember’s position, she didn’t intend on helping me with it. Sighing I put my hair up in a clip to keep it off my neck and began applying the sunscreen to every part that I could reach but when I was done and all that was left was my back I sighed.

“Sami, can you help?” I asked, my throat feeling dry.

He smiled at me and nodded, taking the bottle I offered to him. I turned on the spot and took a breath as he came closer, squirting the lotion into his hand. He rubbed his hands together before putting the lotion on my skin and I was grateful he’d done that, I hated the cold feeling of lotion.

As his hands slid over my back a small sigh escaped my back as his hand brushed a knot at the base of my shoulder. “Trouble there?” he asked, his thumb running over the spot just below where the bikini was knotted.

“Just a little sore knot, not a big deal,” I said, turning my head slightly to smile at him.

“Mhm, that’s the trouble with our job,” he commented as he continued rubbing the lotion on the rest of my exposed skin.

I laughed. “I’m sure you’ve got more sore spots than me, Mr. Zayn.”

He laughed at that but didn’t say anything else until he finished. “You’re officially protected,” he announced, handing me the sunscreen. I turned and smiled at him.

“Do you need some?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at his pale skin.

“I probably should, can’t wrestle with a sunburn,” he said, smiling.

I smiled and poured some of the lotion into my hand and as he’d done, warmed it between my two hands before touching him, the lotion smooth and slick against his strong back. I tried to detach myself from the moment but the feeling of Sami’s skin and muscles under my hands was too much to ignore.

Sami let out a small groan as my hand brushed over his left shoulder. I jumped slightly, seeing the scar there and remembering his injury.

“Shit, I didn’t hurt you?” I asked.

He chuckled slightly. “No, it actually felt amazing,” he laughed.

I smiled and returned to putting the lotion on Sami, making sure to move gently over his left shoulder, giving it a bit more attention than was necessary for the sun protection. When we were both covered with lotion I sat in my chair under the umbrella to let the lotion sink in before joining everyone in the sun. Sami laid out in the sun on the blanket, his black swim shorts the only color break between his pale chest and legs.

“Can’t believe we actually have a day off to get everyone together,” Roderick commented from the next blanket over.

“I know, let alone to get these main roster big shots down here,” I teased. Sami laughed and waved a hand in the air, brushing off my joke.

“Big shot my ass, I haven’t had a decent push yet so I don’t really count.”

“Oh bullshit,” Ember said as she turned to lay on her stomach, lifting her sunglasses to look at Sami. “The fans love you and we all know that in the end that will take you farther than anything.”

Sami shrugged his one shoulder and we all fell into a relaxed silence. Eventually when I felt the sunscreen had absorbed into my skin I stood and stretched before walking to the water’s edge. I could see Cass far out into the ocean, probably still standing firmly given his height and I dove through the waves and swam out to him.

“Hey there Y/N, finally someone swimming,” he said.

I laughed. “Everyone seems to love the sun more than the water,” I said, floating on my back beside him.

“Yeah, Carmella won’t be out here until she’s nearly got sun stroke and even then she’ll only join for a little bit. She loves sun bathing more than anything,” he laughed.

I smiled at him as a wave rolled under my back and headed towards the shore.

“So, what’s going on with you and Sami?” he asked, kicking his feet up to float beside me. I lifted my head out of the water to hear him better.

“What?” I asked.

“You. Sami. Is there something there?”

I laughed. “I wish.”

“What do you mean you wish? The man’s had a soft spot for you since you all met back in the indies. Just cause it was, what? A few months before he signed here and left for WWE doesn’t mean he didn’t remember you or that he wasn’t excited when you were signed.”

I stopped floating and treaded water to look at him.

“What? Are you serious Cass?”

“Yeah, I remember the first day you were at the Center, remember when Sami introduced us?”

“Yeah,” I said, remembering craning my neck up to look at Cass.

“He had a thing for you then. He said you were the only girl who wasn’t trying to be sexy in the indies, that you were there to wrestle. He liked that about you.”

I stared at Cass and my eyes flicked back to the shore where I could see Sami, Roderick, Ember and a few others beginning to throw a Frisbee around.

“You’re not just messing with me, are you?” I asked.

Cass raised both hands out of the water, confirming that even out here he could still stand. “I swear. I was kinda hoping he’d opened his mouth and told you finally. Normally I’d feel bad about giving away his secret but come on, you know how he is. Sami’s a nice guy and probably thinks you don’t realize he exists in that way.”

I laughed at the absurdity of everything. “Yeah, I’ve only been carrying a torch for the guy for about five years now, no big deal.”

Cass laughed. “I never said we men were smart about how we handled things.”

I laughed and swam around a bit more before heading back to shore with Cass. As we exited the water I made sure to check the knots on my suit. As much as I wanted Sami and his attention I didn’t need to flash the entire beach to do it, especially given what Cass had just told me.

Once back to my blanket I carefully laid down on my stomach to let the sun and hot air dry me off. When I’d felt the water evaporating on my skin, my back growing warm I turned over to allow my front to be dried and warmed, flipping my hair up above my head and tucking my arms underneath my head and neck to serve as pillows.

My eyes were closed but I still heard the approach of footsteps and squinted to see Sami walking over to me, a cold water bottle in each hand. I sat up and smiled at him, taking the one he offered me.

“Thanks Sami,” I said, smiling at him.

He smiled and sat next to me as I took a sip of the cool water, a shiver passing through me at the difference of temperatures.

I reached into my bag and brushed out my hair carefully, braiding it and tying it off so it wouldn’t fall out and when I turned back to Sami he was looking at me, smiling.

“So, what’s new Sami?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Same old, I guess.”

I smiled at him and beyond him I could see Cass flailing his arms in the air. I squinted to see him better and he motioned two people kissing and I flipped him off. Sami turned to see who I was communicating with and laughed, turning back to look at me.

“Well I guess that counts as new,” he said, his voice soft, uncertain.

“What? Cass being a smartass? That’s not new,” I said.

“No, that’s not new. He told me about how he blew my cover while you two were in the ocean so that’s new information though.”

I stared and felt my jaw drop as I looked at Sami then glanced over at Cass, glaring at him briefly before my eyes fell back to Sami. He smiled lopsidedly at me.

“Don’t be mad at Cass,” he said.

“Did he tell you everything I said?” I asked, feeling my heart race.

Sami shrugged. “Doubt it. All he said was that I had to step up before I missed my chance. Told me I wasn’t invisible to you which was a nice surprise.”

I stared into Sami’s brown eyes, trying to collect my thoughts. “How could you think you were invisible?” I finally said.

Sami shrugged. “I’ve seen the guys around you. You’d have your pick if you wanted it. I figured I was forgettable.”

I laughed slightly, at a loss as to how Sami saw himself so low in the ranks. “Sami, do you remember when we met?”

“Yeah, the night you wrestled at a show in Canada, we met when you came back behind the curtain and I had a match up after yours. I congratulated you on the win and you wished me good luck.”

“Yeah,” I said, choosing my next words carefully. “You were the only guy I ever thought about after that,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush.

Sami’s mouth opened slightly in shock.

“That was five years ago,” he said, staring at me. His eyes showed a measure of disbelief. Maybe a little of pity was in those depths.

“Yeah, well I’m not one to get feelings for any guy that walks in my path. I get stuck sometimes.”

Sami looked up at the sky above us and shook his head slightly. My stomach dropped.

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” I said, trying to evacuate before this could go more sideways than it already had. Cass had been wrong. Anything Sami may have felt for me before was gone. If I walked away we could pretend the conversation never happened.

“What?” Sami asked, staring at me as I grabbed my shorts and slipped my flip flops on.

I motioned vaguely to the shoreline. “I always get a few shells from each beach trip, I’ll be back in a bit,” I said, walking away quickly. As I passed Cass and Carmella’s blanket I glared at him.

“Thanks a lot Cass, I look like a fucking idiot,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and walking quickly away. Cass tried calling me back but I kept moving, feeling my heart race.

Once I was far enough away from the group and most of the crowds of people I began looking at the shells that had made it to the shore, scanning the ground for the best ones. A habit I’d started when I was a kid I’d never stopped collecting a few shells each day at the beach.

I crouched down and scooped up a handful of sand, walking to the water’s edge and letting the water gently sift the sand way from the shells I held. I found a nice scallop shell and let the rest wash away, putting the scallop in my pocket and continuing to walk.

When my heart stopped racing and I found a few more shells I turned back to the group, feeling my shoulders warm up from the sun. I cursed, walking faster to reach the safety of shade and sunscreen, hoping that Sami would’ve moved on from our awkward interaction and that he wouldn’t bring it up.

I didn’t get my wish. Sami was walking towards me and we met a good length away from our crowd of friends. I stopped walking, wondering how childish it would be for me turn and start running from him. I decided that aside from childish it would be ultimately more embarrassing than anything we said now so I waited until he walked over to me.

He stopped about a foot from me and looked at me, a small sigh escaping his lips.

“Can we just forget about what happened?” I asked.

“Why would we do that?” he asked.

“Because I’m a pathetic person with a crush? I’d like to not have to think about it much longer.”

Sami frowned and walked closer to me and before I could react he held my face gently but firmly in his hands before his lips found mine.

I jumped in shock but Sami held me firmly and a small sound escaped my throat at the feeling of his lips on mine.

When we broke apart I could only stare at him as he smiled down at me. I had a million questions but couldn’t even open my mouth to make a sound.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for five years,” he said, smiling. “So, how about this? We get back to the blanket and get more sunscreen on you before you burn. We enjoy the rest of the day here and tonight I take you to dinner. Is that okay?”

I stared at him and nodded, trying to find my voice. “I’d like that,” I finally managed to say.

He smiled and took my hand in his, walking me back to the blanket. As we passed I heard a few shouts of “Finally!” and “Took you two long enough!”

I ignored them, feeling my face redden. Once I was in my beach chair I took a sip of water as Sami dug for my sunscreen. He found it and came over, applying some to my tight shoulders and back, and I shivered from the gentleness of his touch.

“Your shoulders are freckling,” he said, a smile in his voice.

“Not burning though?” I asked.

“No, though your cheeks still look pretty red.”

I rolled my eyes at that as he laughed.

--

Later that night, after a shower and rehydrating I was slipping into a sundress when my phone vibrated.

Sami: Be there in fifteen minutes.

Y/N: See you then 

I set my phone down and quickly did my hair, a braid going from my crown and down around my head, ending on the opposite shoulder of where it began. I slipped into some simple sandals and finished switching to my smaller purse when there was a knock at the door. Smiling I walked over and looked through the peep hole.

Sami stood there, a small smile on his face as he waited. I opened the door and smiled at him.

“Wow,” Sami said, looking over me.

I blushed, noting his khaki pants and light blue button up shirt. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I said, smiling. He beamed at me and pulled from behind his back a bouquet of flowers, one white rose in the center of them.

I felt my face light up at the flowers. It’d been so long since anyone had done it I had to wonder as I took them from him if I even had a vase. “Sami, they’re beautiful, thank you.”

He smiled at me. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Let me find a vase and we’ll get going,” I said, turning to scan my apartment. On one of my bookshelves was a vase. I walked over and grabbed it, going to the kitchen to put water in it and trim the flowers. Once I’d arranged them in the vase and cleaned up I smiled as I set them on my kitchen island countertop and looked around them to Sami.

He smiled, seeing me place them so prominently in the open concept apartment and he motioned to the door.

“Ready?” he asked.

I smiled and nodded, walking back over to him as I grabbed my purse. He offered me his arm and we walked out of the apartment, me locking the door behind as we went.

--

The restaurant Sami picked was a small Italian place that had flowers and candles on each table. I smiled as he rushed to pull my chair back for me. I sat carefully as he pushed the chair in and I smiled as his hand drifted, maybe accidentally, over my shoulders as he walked around the table to his seat. The hostess gave us our menus and smiled at us before walking away. I looked around, the place filled mostly with couples or couples on double dates. The lights were low for the sake of ambiance but still enough to read the menu by.

“Sami, this place is really nice, you didn’t need to find something like this,” I said as my eyes fell on the menu prices. “I mean, seriously Sami,” I stared to say but he held up a hand.

“Let’s call this me making up for being too afraid for five years, okay? Besides, you should get the nicest things, and I want to treat you.”

I blushed as our waiter came over and took our drink orders, promising to return to see if we want appetizers. We agreed to split some bruschetta between us and ordered our meals before silence fell between us.

I tried to think of something to say but nothing came to mind. Everything my mind brought up seemed silly. Sami offered a small smile and reached out, offering me his hand. I put my hand in is and smiled at him in return as he squeezed my smaller hand in his larger one.

“So, what do people talk about on first dates? I don’t even know anymore,” he said, laughing slightly.

I laughed too. “I think they talk about work and their everyday lives but we know that about each other already,” I said.

Sami smiled. “So then why don’t you tell me things I don’t know about you?”

I smiled. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “Anything you feel like telling me.”

Sami and I spent the rest of dinner talking about our favorite shows, movies, music and other interests, I admitted to Sami that I hated going to clubs and would rather spend the night in which made him smile and he admitted to preferring lazy days in than running around.

When the bill came one look from Sami told me I couldn’t even see it let alone even offer to pay so I sat awkwardly in my seat, anxious over the amount of money he may have spent. He laughed when he saw my face.

“Aw, come on, you have to let me be the gentleman and pay,” he reasoned.

I smiled at him and shrugged. “I just hate thinking you spent a lot of money on me.”

He stood and came over to pull my chair back for me and offered me his hand. “Worth every penny,” he promised, brushing his lips over the back of my hand.

--

A few weeks later when Sami was due to fly back to Florida and spend more than a day at home I was anxiously cleaning my already clean apartment. Sami had sent me flowers every week and we’d had Skype dates together but I was excited to see him. I’d invited him over for dinner and I had the chicken marinating in the fridge.

Once the apartment was as clean as I could get it I gave up and went to shower, doing my hair and pulling on dark jeans and a simple black halter top. Sami texted me when he landed and I responded that I was getting dinner in progress so he told me he’d go home and shower before coming over.

I smiled at the wink emoji he added at the end and put some rice to cook as the chicken sizzled in the pan. Prepping some broccoli on the side everything was nearly done as a knock sounded on my door. I smiled and walked over, opening the door and barely restraining myself from throwing myself into Sami’s arms.

He laughed at how quickly I moved into his arms and I felt his arms tighten around me.

“Missed you too, Y/N” he whispered into my ear. When we pulled back from the tight hug he kissed me quickly.

I smiled at him. “I am so glad you’re home. Skype isn’t the same,” I said, smiling. His face brightened and he kissed my forehead before releasing me from the hug.

“Take a seat, dinner is just finishing up.”

He sniffed the air and let out a soft groan. “A home cooked meal, smells delicious.”

I smiled at him as he sat at the table and I went into the fridge. “What do you want to drink?” I asked.

“Water is fine,” he said. I took out two glasses and filled them with water, placing them on the table before getting two plates out of the cabinet and piling each with rice, chicken and broccoli. I placed the food and utensils in front of Sami before setting my own food down and sitting across from him. He smiled brightly at me.

“Thank you for cooking,” he said.

I laughed. “Don’t thank me until you’ve tried it and liked it.”

He took a bite and beamed at me. “A man could get used to this,” he warned as he scooped up another large bite. I laughed and we ate, talking over our weeks apart. It felt nice to have Sami home, even better than I could reach out and take his hand in mine and enjoy his energy, despite the rough travel schedule he’d endured this week.

When we finished dinner I grabbed the plates and went to the sink, rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher. Sami watched me moving around my apartment, a smile on his face. When I turned to face him I quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What’s that look for?” I asked.

He smiled and stood, coming to stand in front of me, pinning me between him and the counter where his most recent gift of flowers sat.

“I just can’t believe this is reality. I’ve wanted this for so long and I come home from the road and I’ve got you here waiting for me,” he said, his voice soft, one hand cupping my cheek.

I smiled up at him. “I think my side of the deal is pretty good too,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist. Sami dipped his head and kissed me, lightly at first but the kiss deepened quickly.

I moved my arms from around his waist to around his neck, pulling him closer to me as he shifted forward, his left hand going down to cup my ass and lift me slightly. I whimpered when I felt his erection through his jeans and realized just how much I wanted Sami.

He’d been a gentleman, wanting to take me on a few dates but the tension the last time he’d been home had nearly shattered my resolve.

I reached down and stroked him through his jeans and he shuddered at the touch, thrusting into my hand slightly, a gasp escaping him as the kiss broke.

“Sami, please I don’t want to wait anymore,” I begged.

A smile spread over his lips and he slid his hand from my ass to the front of my jeans, sliding up to my core and pressing there, making me groan. “You sure?” he asked.

“Yes, please Sami,” I begged. He groaned and stepped back slightly before picking me up in his arms and walking down the hall to my bedroom. Once in there he laid me on the bed and immediately began to unbutton my jeans, tugging them down off my legs. I reached for Sami, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back down to me, kissing him roughly and wrapping my legs around him.

Sami thrust against me, the clothing between us causing friction that felt good but not good enough. I groaned into the kiss before sitting up on the bed and pushing against Sami’s chest so that he was kneeling.

I quickly undid the buttons of his shirt and pushed it off of his shoulder, my hand lingering over the scar on his left shoulder. I leaned forward and kissed it and a small sigh escaped his lips.

The sweet moment passed as soon as my lips traveled up to his neck and behind his ear, nipping at the skin as I went.  Sami groaned and grabbed my wrists, pushing me back into the mattress, his body covering mine. I whimpered at the roughness, something I hadn’t expected.

“Keep teasing me like that and this isn’t going to last as long as I’d like it,” he whispered, his voice deeper than usual and breathing quick. I smiled and nodded at him, indicating that I’d do my best to behave. He released my hands and kissed down my neck to my shirt, his hands ripping the shirt off of me quickly before going to the curve of my breasts, one hand going behind me to undo my bra.

I arched my back to give him better access, the motion bringing our hips closer together too and I bit my lip, trying not to groan too loudly as I felt the wetness pooling there. Sami sat back, taking my bra with him and he looked down at me, only in my underwear and sighed.

“Y/N…you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said before covering my body with his again, the feeling of his skin sliding across mine making me feel like I was on fire. I wanted so badly to feel more of him but was trying to behave.

Sami’s lips slid down my body, stopping quickly at my breasts to tease each nipple between his teeth before he kissed further down. When he came to my underwear he tugged it down quickly and I shivered at the feeling of his beard brushing against my thighs but I couldn’t dwell on it too long as his tongue found my center and I forgot everything else for a moment.

Sami made me squirm with his every flick of his tongue, every brush of his lips and when his fingers slid into me I practically flew off the bed. Sami cursed against me.

“You’re so wet, do I do this to you?” he asked.

“Yes,” I gasped.

He smirked up at me, his fingers working quickly inside me. “Have I always done this to you?” He asked.

“Fuck, yes.”

“And what did you do before? Did you touch yourself, thinking of me?”

I gasped, Sami’s words torturing me. I hadn’t expected this from him. I hadn’t anticipated that he’d talk to me like this but I liked it.

“Fuck, yes Sami. God, I wanted you so long,” I whimpered as he slid up my body, his fingers still buried inside me.

“What did you want me to do to you?” he asked.

“This,” I squirmed, circling my hips as he added another finger.

“You wanted me to touch you? To taste you like I did?” I could only whimper. He laughed slightly.

“What else do you want?” he whispered in my ear.

“I want you inside me,” I practically growled.

Sami groaned and his fingers slid out of me. I anxiously reached out, helping Sami undo the zipper of his jeans. He stood to push them off of his hips and his boxers quickly followed. He crawled back onto the bed to me, his lips finding mine as he settled between my hips. I spread my legs eagerly, arching into him.

“Please Sami?” I begged.

He didn’t need to hear anymore, sliding into me carefully but quickly and I bit my lip to adjust to the size of him, my nails digging into his shoulders.

“You okay?” He panted, his forehead on mine.

I shivered and shifted my hips. “Yes. God yes,” I whimpered.

He sighed, one hand interlocking his fingers with mine, the other supporting his weight as he began to move inside me. I practically screamed as he hit that spot inside me and my vision went blank for a moment, my lungs emptied of air at the sensation. I gasped in air and held onto him tightly, my legs around his waist tightly and my lips at his ear.

“Fuck, Sami, please keep going.”

He grunted in response and continued to drive into me and I knew I wouldn’t last very long.

“Sami, I’m not going to last,” I warned.

“That’s okay baby, cum for me,” he said, driving into that spot over and over again.

I screamed his name as I came and he pumped in and out of me slowly, cursing in both French and Arabic as he tried to keep his composure. When I’d come down from my high he was still pumping inside of me and I felt my stomach knot with another orgasm already building.

“Sami, please baby, cum for me,” I begged.

“Soon,” he gasped, his hands pinning mine, our fingers interlocked as he pushed into me roughly, our grips tight as we locked eyes.

I held his gaze until my orgasm ripped through me again, forcing me to close my eyes.

Sami let out a guttural moan as he came, my name in the mix of words that tumbled from his mouth. A particular phrase caught my ear and as he pulled out of me and laid beside me, pulling me to him immediately I leaned up to look at him.

“Did you just say ana bahebak?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

Sami froze and looked at me. “You caught that?” he asked.

I kissed him lightly and pulled back, smiling at him, feeling my heart race for a whole new reason.

“I love you too, Sami.”

[norfolkrp]

Congratulations Sam, and welcome! You’ve been accepted as your original character Holden Gordon! Go ahead and set up your account, be sure to message the main from it.

Also, be sure to:

Make sure your ask and submit are open.

Follow everyone on the masterlist.

Track the tag norfolk: starter for open dash convos.

And tell us your initial reaction to Norfolk in the tag norfolk: talk!

. OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/Alias: Sam/Samela Age: 20 Pronouns: she/her Timezone: central Personal tumblr: this one here! thelordthingy Activity level: about a 5-6 on a 1-10 scale. I work full-time as HR so my hours are oddly enough erratic as heck so I usually do one or two things during the week (if possible) but the golden ticket is gonna be on the weekends. Triggers: None What’s the secret password?: REMOVED. How did you find us?: Kitten told me! What character are you applying for? Original character - Hal. He’s below :). Anything else?: nope!

Writing sample:

“Hey hey hey, no, no don’t give me that stupid fucking - look here, okay asshole, look at me.” Holden starred down the devil in his house. Goddammit, he was the one in charge here! “You uppity fuck, don’t act like you’re starving. You just ate.” Mrrrrrrw! “No, that is bullshit.”  The furry bastard just stared back at him. To be fair, if you were a cat and you were held aloft by your owner by your armpits, you’d probably get into a staring contest with him too. Mrrow? He broke; he blinked first. “Fine, for fuck’s sake.” Hal dropped the cat - no, not far! Just onto the counter, back where she started this shit because the cat decided she wanted to have an order of what Holden was having, thanks. Eggs are not meant for cats, especially when scooped by their paws out of the frying pan.

“Just- hey, no back the fuck off Missy, hold up.” He snatched up the pan, turned around in the small kitchen allotted to him in the apartment and scraped off the scrambled eggs onto the awaiting plate so Crowley didn’t burn herself. “Okay, c’mere.” Down with the pan, up again with the cat, he pulled down a can of her food while he was passing the cabinet and set her down, far the hell away from the hot stove, to start prying the tab of it open. Crowley perched herself in front of her dishes - which were matched, one of several matched sets, actually, and Holden would burn the apartment complex down (no he wouldn’t, don’t listen to him) than to ever admit that he actually stressed and needed to find several different bowls and saucers that coordinated with each other to serve as dishware for his cat. He tipped it’s contents out, mindful of keeping it all on the plate rather than making a mess of his floors, and chucked the tin away. Crowley didn’t even care, the moment the food was down, she set upon it with gusto and he snorted. “You fatass,” he was so damn fond of this cat. Gently stroking down her spine, she arched to his touch but otherwise hunkered down to her fest. Hal stood up and grabbed his own breakfast. Eggs were disgusting but good for you, so he made due with adding a fuckton of pepper, a metricshitload of red pepper and a bit of salt and coffee; lots and lots of black coffee, to chase it down with.

Holden didn’t even bother moving the plate, he just jumped up to sit on the counter after getting out a fork from the drawer to attack his food. Or was it technically dinner if you’ve been awake all fucking night? Whatever, food then questions.

2. ORIGINAL CHARACTER

Full name: Holden “Hal” Gordon Age: 24 Sexuality: Bisexual Species: Witch Claimed power: Fire manipulation Occupation: Fire-fighter (if that’s alright? i like irony) Address: APT 22, Adamas Apartments, Raven’s Row Quote: Everyone hurts themselves in the city; then they just pick themselves up so as not to get in anyone else’s way MBTI: ESFP Positive traits (3): Empathetic, loyal, selfless Negative traits (3): Self-depreciating, addictive, sarcastic Face claim: Tom Holland Biography:

Oh boy, boy oh boy, where to start? Ask his dad and well, he’ll smile, shrug and that about answers that. Hal happened is where it starts and just about ends it. He was born to two teenagers who acted without thinking and into a mess of a patched together relationship that ought to have never begun in the first place. But, and this is a recurring theme in this boy’s life, it did, he did, and there wasn’t much anyone could do about either one of them. Seraphina and Clyde, now they were two mismatched puzzle pieces that kept trying to glue themselves to each other out of desperation - hoping and hoping that this time or that time they’d stick, they’d click and all would be right. Yeah, not what happened. They fought, they screamed, Seraphina’s caterwauling got the cops called on the young couple time and time again because their neighbors swore that she was being murdered. Hal got his lungs from her, and a whole lotta other shit that ain’t worth mentioning but good gods.

Hal was Clyde’s idea. Seraphina never wanted him, the kid was his father’s idea as she is quick to point out when he fails, when something goes wrong that he is just like his father. She felt like a parasite was taking over her body, that it was no longer her’s but this shared thing, with the world, with Clyde, with the fucking monster that made her sick, made her fat and bloated. That was the final nail in the coffin. When her ankles swelled and she was left unable to walk but forced to hobble awkwardly and in pain everywhere while he glowed and cooed and sang to her engorged belly, enough was fucking enough. Holden is pretty goddamn sure that he could feel her repulsion with him and that she hated him so much that he hated her too, before he even could. That shit stains and spreads into the cracks of a person’s bones. Once he was born, she was gone. Clyde loved him, and did his best, and Hal adores his father and does what he can for the guy but he can’t be anything but what he is. Horrifically, despite her rants and ravings to the contrary, he is just like Seraphina. He’s vain and stubborn, a reckless kid who dives head first into things best left alone and who shakes the earth too much. Addicted too quickly to various vices and prone to finding himself into all sorts of trouble; Clyde had a hell of a time keeping him even in a school system long enough for him to get expelled again. But despite all this, he’s smart. Bookish to a fault, Holden lovingly keeps collection of every single book that he has ever read (which, honestly, is part of how and why he kept getting kicked out of schools - he’d borrow and borrow and never return), Holden isn’t a prodigy but he can string two and two together and get to four.

Now, when it comes to him and his gifts, well he is rather fucked up a creek without a paddle and that’s what landed him where he is now.  Clyde and Seraphina, when they got hitched, fled across the country and ended in the middle of Fuck All, Kentucky, but there’s only so much there for a father and his kid that both struggled to set down roots - and, well, that wasn’t working out so well. And the kid was weird, weird shit happened. He knew it, felt like he was the cause of most of it and damned, wouldn’t you know it, he was. Sure, sure, not everything was his fault, but - well. Logic is hard to apply when suddenly, you’re spouting fire out of your fucking fingertips. Odd things just happened around him, unintentionally done sure but sometimes there would be a pull like he needed, just absolutely needed to borrow himself into the earth and not resurface until he was nothing more, to lose himself in some of the oddest of places as they steadily made the march back to Washington. It was like nails on a chalk board until it all ended up with him literally exploding. A string of wildfires followed the father and son duo; they started when he woke up one night and his bed was on fire, which was the end of that particular house and only stopped once Seraphina figured out what was happening when Clyde let her know, in their rare and far between phone calls. That’s when they made the rush back to Norfolk. It took some radical readjustment to being in this town - the energy is too much at times for him, never being properly exposed to magic before his accidental sets of pyrotechnics, but it feels right, it feels like home. For once, he finally understands something.

Hal isn’t selfish, despite what he’d like the world to believe him to be, he is the very definition of selfless with this need to help others, to pick people up and dust them off and give them everything from the shirt off his own fucking back and… Holden just loves people. He can’t help himself. He may sometimes might not respect others if he didn’t feel the need to, but he will always be the first stepping up to help others. The destruction he’s responsible makes him sick, makes him regret fucking living on his worst of days, but he can’t deny it; it’s something apart of himself now that he needs to learn to fucking control. There’s no hiding it from himself that he is capable of awful things, but he can at least learn to clean up after his fucking self. That’s how he managed to stumble his way into the Norfolk fire department.