#I asked a friend (I already talked about him in the character ask-post) and he was like "the fuck is that”
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 years ago
Text
You Are In Love (Superstar Chapter 10)
You kiss on sidewalks
You fight and you talk
One night he wakes
Strange look on his face
Pauses, then says
You're my best friend
And you knew what it was
He is in love
Roy and the Reader settle into their life together.
Roy Kent x Reader
9.7k words
Warnings: Language, allusions to smutty things, adults drinking, teeny tiny talk about insecurities, some of the most self-indulgent and fluffy writing I have ever done in my entire life
Author's note: I'm feeling really emotional about posting this final chapter, and I just really want to say THANK YOU. This story really helped get me out of a writing slump, and your love & support has been a huge part of that. I've loved spending so much time with these characters, but more than that, I loved getting to share this story with you. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU. I hope you enjoy all this sugary sweet fluff!
~
Roy stared at me in utter disgust, as if I had just told him I was becoming a Man City supporter or hated The Sound of Music. “That is the fucking worst combination of words in the history of the fucking world.”
I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Brunch with Keeley and Jamie is not torture, Roy.”
“To me it is,” he growled, pulling back the blankets and crawling into bed.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. Keeley’s one of my closest girlfriends, and Jamie’s your best friend,” I pointed out as I followed suit, pulling the blankets over us.
Roy let out a deep groan. “Why the fuck does everyone keep fucking saying that?” He turned to face me, propping himself up on his elbow. “I want to really, actually, literally murder him. I fantasize about it almost as much as I fantasize about you. How the fuck is that friendship?”
I shrugged and kissed the tip of his nose. “Everyone has their own love language. And violence towards Jamie Tartt is yours.”
“Want to know my love language when it comes to you?” he asked suggestively, his hand snaking its way under the t-shirt I wore. “I’m fucking fluent.”
“I’d prefer if your love language was going to brunch,” I teased, giving him a playful shove.
He grunted, annoyed at my lack of response to his flirting. “Fine. But I’m drinking as many fucking mimosas as I want.”
The next morning, Roy begrudgingly sat at a patio table across from Jamie, listening to Keeley and I gossip and giggle over mimosas and a ridiculous amount of food. Suddenly, she lit up.
“Oh! Roy, there was something I wanted to run by you.” She took his grunt as the signal to continue. “So, with the Greyhounds doing so well, there’ve been lots of requests for interviews and stuff, y’know? And there’s this hot new talk show, hosted by…” She took a quick look at her mobile. “Ryley Sharp. Two Ys. And his people reached out to see if they could get a gaffer to come on for a chat.” She shrugged. “Would you be interested?”
Roy narrowed his eyes and downed the mimosa in front of him. “Why me? Doesn’t this seem more Ted’s kind of shit?”
Keeley shifted, shooting Jamie a glance. Jamie nodded encouragingly; he’d clearly heard this whole pitch already. “I could ask Ted, but…” She thought a moment. “I mean, you’re a household name, so it would be very good ratings. And, as a friend, I was thinking it would be a good opportunity for you to…” She trailed off, her eyes flickering to me.
“For me to do what exactly?” Curiosity floated behind his stony expression.
“To control your own narrative,” Keeley finally said. When she saw the confusion on both our faces, she continued. “Listen, I know you hate the media-”
“I wish they’d all die in a fiery explosion and then have all their ashes fed to feral hogs who eat their own shit so there’s just an endless cycle of their ashes being eaten and shit out for all eternity,” Roy confirmed.
Keeley nodded slowly, glancing at me as if to ask ‘This is your boyfriend?’ “Right. But think about it this way. You’re a very public figure, Roy. And now that the two of you are done pretending you’re capable of hiding your relationship, you’re going to be going out in public together. And you are going to be photographed together. And your name-” She turned to me. “-is going to become known as well. And I assume none of us want a repeat of… you know what.”
A snort flew out of Jamie’s nose. “Boy-toy Roy,” he cheeked.
Roy bared his teeth. “I have my taxidermist on speed-dial.”
“Boys,” I scolded. “Keeley, please continue.”
“Thank you,” she hummed. “Now, Roy, if you go on this show, you’ll talk about Richmond of course. All about how well they’re doing, how great Ted is, how you see yourself in the lads, that sort of thing. And then, Ryley’ll ask you about yourself. Particularly…” She gestured towards me. “This way you get to decide what people know about you. No room for speculation from the press, no room for making shit up to sell a magazine. Just ‘I’m Roy Kent, I’m in a very happy relationship with the world’s fittest woman, and we have an adorable dog’.” She offered up a hopeful smile. “What d’you think?”
All three of us looked at Roy expectantly. He shoved a piece of fruit into his mouth, then reached over and grabbed my mimosa and gulped it down.
“Tell me about this Ryley Sharp prick,” he finally muttered, taking my hand under the table.
Keeley perked up and gestured to a passing waiter to bring more drinks. “He’s not too bad actually. I’ve watched his show before. Bit of an airhead, but very sweet. And I’ve asked around to see what people have to say about him. Not a bad word from anyone. He’s absolutely not the gotcha kind of guy. He’ll ask you lots of easy, soft questions, make you look good, give you the opportunity to gush about this one here-” She winked at me. “-and he won’t go into anything you don’t want to go into.”
Roy grunted, tapping the table. He glanced at me. “What d’you think?” he asked earnestly.
I looked back at him. His eyes were unsure, eyebrows all scrunched. He’ll do whatever I ask, I realized. He wanted to make me happy, to help me feel safe and secure. And fuck, I wanted to do the same for him.
“I think,” I started carefully. “I think you should do what you want. Keeley makes some really good points about getting out in front of things and not giving the media room to speculate, but if it’s going to kill you, don’t do it.” I squeezed his hand. “I’ll support whatever you decide.”
“Hmmf.” He looked my face over, thoughtfulness in his expression. “Fuck it.” He looked at Keeley. “I’ll do it, but I’m not saying nice things about that prat.” He nodded at Jamie.
Keeley squealed, ignoring the outraged look on her boyfriend’s pretty face. “Ahh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She grabbed her phone and began typing rapidly. “I’ll pop by tomorrow with all the details. And a backstage pass for you,” she added, winking at me. “And don’t you worry, Roy, I’ll be there the whole time to make sure it goes well, I promise.”
He nodded curtly. “Yeah, well.” He cleared his throat. “I can still swear and shit, yeah?”
~
I smiled watching Roy through the mirror as the makeup woman attempted to powder his face. He was wearing his signature scowl, along with a charcoal suit that hugged him beautifully. At Keeley’s insistence and my prodding, he had gotten a haircut and tidied his beard. All in all, he managed to look even better than he did on any of my old posters.
I really get to go home with this man, I thought with a giggle as I nestled further into the couch I shared with Keeley in the greenroom. Noticing the giddy way I was watching him, he met my eyes in the mirror and cracked a smile.
“No, you’re not putting makeup on me when we get home,” he warned.
“Spoilsport,” I teased as the door opened and a production assistant entered to let Roy know that he would be on after the commercial break, which meant it was time for all of us to leave the greenroom.
Keeley linked her arm through mine as another assistant led us to a pair of audience seats that had been reserved for us to watch the interview. “I made sure they told Roy exactly where we’re sitting,” Keeley assured me as we settled in.
Sure enough, as soon as Roy walked out onto the set to thunderous applause, his gaze found mine. I wondered if the viewers at home would also notice the tiny twitch of his mouth when our eyes locked. He plopped down into the stylish chair by Ryley Sharp’s desk.
We had gotten to meet Ryley Sharp before the show, and Keeley had been right about him; sweet and a bit of an airhead, in the best possible way. He was very excited to have Roy on the show and was thrilled to know I’d be sitting out in the audience with Keeley. He was completely onboard with everything Keeley had discussed with us and thought that Roy wanting to chat about me during the interview was simply “adorable”.
Keeley gripped my hand as Roy was interviewed. I was hugely impressed; he was almost charming and nearly friendly, he actually answered questions, and he even managed to keep his “fucks” to a minimum. It was the best interview I’d ever seen him do, and I’d probably watched every single one he’d done in his entire career. Multiple times.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much as I listened to the audience laugh at some cheeky comment he made about Ted.
Ryley Sharp shifted in his seat, running a hand through his bleached hair. “Alright, so it looks like things are going well for you, Roy. Happily retired from a massively successful career, coaching Richmond to one of the great underdog stories of our time. What about in your personal life?” He raised his eyebrows. “Got a girl?”
Roy shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “I actually do,” he admitted, his eyes flicking in my direction as the studio audience ooohed.
“Roy Kent, are you squirming?” Ryley Sharp humorously gasped, leaning forward.
“Do I have to answer that?” Roy asked, a teasing edge in his voice.
Ryley Sharp shook his head. “Not if you agree to tell us about this girl of yours..”
Roy nodded. “Sounds like a deal to me.” He gave a small cough. “She’s, uh, she’s amazing, yeah. We work at Richmond together and, I dunno, we clicked. Decided to give it a go, and so far, so good.”
“Descriptive as always,” Ryley Sharp teased, eliciting some light chuckles from the audience. “Mind if we do some lightning-round questions to learn more?”
Roy nodded firmly. “Fuck it, let’s do it.”
Ryley Sharp cleared his throat. “She like football?”
“Loves it.”
“Fan of yours?”
A smirk graced Roy’s face. “Huge.”
“Her parents like you?”
“I like to think so.”
“She smart?”
“Brilliant.”
“Funny?”
Roy bobbled his head. “She thinks she is.”  He winked in my direction as the audience chuckled.
Ryley Sharp’s friendly smile widened. “She pretty?”
“Fucking gorgeous.”
“And am I to understand…” Ryley Sharp perked up a little. “She’s here in our studio audience?”
Sharp had come up with this idea, explaining that the audience would find it charming as hell. Keeley had left it completely up to us whether we wanted to go along with it, and I’d left it up to Roy, who surprised us all with his yes. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Roy sit up straight and turn his gaze back to me.
“Um, yeah, yeah she’s here.” He gave a little nod in my direction. “Sitting right over there with our friend Keeley.”
Sharp waved to someone off-stage. “Could we get a mic out there?” he called.
In an instant, the same production assistant from earlier was standing next to my seat, holding a microphone. Roy gave me a thumbs up as Ryley Sharp turned his attention to me.
“Why don’t you stand up, love?” he asked as the house lights came on and a camera turned my way.
Keeley pushed me to my feet as my face burned. I smiled and gave Roy a little wave as the production assistant handed me the mic. “Hi,” I said timidly, suddenly hating the sound of my own voice.
Roy smiled, a full smile, and nodded back. “Hey,” he called tenderly. Even from my seat, I could see his eyes were full of affection.
Ryley Sharp cleared his throat playfully. “Alright, lovebirds, back to the interview.” He focused on me. “So, Roy Kent’s girl, eh?” I nodded, suddenly bashful. “What’s it like dating this guy, hmm?”
I lifted the microphone to my face. “Lovely, actually. He’s a pretty good one.” The wink Roy sent me bolstered my confidence.
“Alright, I’m sure all the hardcore football fans out there are dying to know.” Sharp looked at me with mock seriousness. “What is the most romantic thing Roy Kent has ever done?”
My eyes drifted from Ryley to Roy who raised his eyebrows at me. He spoke up. “It’s Paris, innit?”
I nodded, biting back a grin. “Can I tell them about it?”
Roy sat back in his seat and shrugged, as if it were totally normal for us to have a conversation on national television. “Why the fuck not?”
I turned my attention back to Sharp. “Um, well Richmond had gone to Paris for a friendly. And after the match, Roy here surprised me by taking me to the Louvre.” More ooohs from the audience. “After hours,” I added cheekily, garnering more hooting. “And we had a lovely time. Dinner and champagne, the kind of thing only a retired footballer can afford to do.”
Sharp joined in the audience’s chuckles. “Goodness. If that’s a date, I can’t wait to see what his proposal’ll look like!”
My cheeks burned, but I tried to maintain my composure. “Yeah, well, you and my mother have something in common then,” I joked, earning a laugh from the whole room- most especially Roy, who was shaking his head and looking at me like I was the most wonderful, special thing he’d ever seen in his life.
Ryley Sharp asked me a couple more questions- about Oscar and about what Roy and I liked to do when we weren’t at work- before wrapping it up. “Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Roy Kent and his lovely girlfriend!”
As the audience gave a hearty round of applause, I handed the microphone back to the assistant and looked at Roy, who was still staring at me. I blew him a kiss, and he looked down, clearly blushing. He turned back to Sharp, shaking his hand and looking uncharacteristically cheerful.
After the show wrapped, Keeley and I made our way back to the greenroom, where Roy was chatting with Ryley Sharp. He offered me a smirk when he saw me and placed a kiss on my forehead.
“You were fucking brilliant,” he murmured in my ear.
Ryley Sharp reached out and shook my hand. “How’d it feel?”
I cleared my throat. “It was fun,” I admitted. “But not something I could do every day. Don’t know how you all live with being famous.”
Keeley giggled and nudged me. “Oh, so you don’t want me to set you up with a modeling contract then?”
“Hell no,” I laughed. “Being Roy Kent’s girl is more than enough attention for me.”
~
Life became predictable. Easy. Routine. And I loved every moment of it.
We’d spend our days at Nelson Road, with Roy in training and me doing my best to bring some semblance of order to the coaching staff, eating lunch together almost every day. Our evenings were often spent with Phoebe and Oscar, making dinner together, playing, and watching movies until Roy’s sister came for pickup. Nearly every night was spent together, either at his place or mine, and our mornings were spent waking up in each other’s arms. On weekends we were with the Greyhounds, or taking Phoebe on outings, or meeting up with friends, or just sitting on the couch and reading.
From time to time our picture would end up online or in a magazine: playing at the park with Oscar, or sharing an embrace after a Richmond victory, or getting drinks with Keeley and Jamie. More often than not, the picture featured a blurred gesture on Roy’s part, but he could always be counted on to point out how stunning he thought I looked in the photos.
Amidst this domestic bliss- or “the boring life of dating an old geezer”, as Roy called it- was one thrilling constant: Richmond was still winning. They’d bounced around the top four spots over the course of the season, but there was actual expectation for them. More than one pundit even selected them as their pick to win the “whole enchilada”, as Ted and Dani loved to say in unison. Things came down, in true dramatic fashion, to the last match of the season, which would be against Arsenal.
Roy had already gone running with Jamie and was showered and set to go by the time I woke up, so he sat on the bed with Oscar and read as I got myself ready. He not-so-stealthily watched me over the top of his book as I dug through the half of the closet I was slowly taking up and cleared his throat.
“Wear the sweater,” he mumbled, absently turning the page of his book.
I turned to him. “Hmm?”
He glanced up at me again. “The fucking lucky sweater,” he repeated. “We could use all the fucking help we can get. Wear it.”
“Oh.” I looked at the sweater that was always in his closet. I wore it at home all the time, wore it out for errands occasionally, but had never worn it to a match. It felt a little silly, and I didn’t feel the need to give anyone fodder to tease us with. I turned back to Roy, who had set his book down by now. “Won’t I look a bit funny, wearing your name with you there in the dugout next to me?"
Roy sat up, his face soft. “I mean, people should get used to seeing you wearing my name.” He paused, tilting his head. “Right?”
I felt myself blush. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought about marrying Roy someday; I’d been thinking of that pretty much since I hit puberty. And the topic had been one that our friends and colleagues teased about from time to time. And it was something I felt myself wondering about more and more lately.
“Oi.” Roy was grinning at me, clearly amused by my silence. “Don’t worry, I’m not fucking proposing after the match or anything like that.” He stood up and came over to where I was, wrapping his arms around me. “I mean, someday, sure. But not today.” He kissed my forehead. “Alright with you?”
Roy Kent wants to marry me someday. Roy Kent wants to marry me. Roy Kent wants to fucking marry me.
I gave an embarrassed laugh and returned his hug, pretending that he hadn’t just filled my heart with more love than I knew how to carry. “Alright. I’ll wear the fucking sweater then.”
Clad in my dark blue sweater, KENT screaming across the back in white lettering, I stood by the coaches all game long, screaming and cheering louder than usual. Rebecca had been lovely enough to get my family amazing seats, and I swore I could hear my father’s shouts above the rest of the crowd. I tore my eyes away from the gameplay to check the clock, which was fast approaching the 100th minute. By some incredible miracle, we were up 2-1 and just needed the ref to blow the fucking whistle.
As we watched the boys do all they could to keep possession of the ball and push towards Arsenal’s goal, I felt Roy grip my hand tightly and heard him muttering “Come on, fuck, come on,” under his breath non-stop.
Fweet fweet fweeeeeeeeeet!
“Holy fuck!” At the sound of the final whistle, Roy picked me up and spun me around, squeezing me so tight I swore I’d have bruises the next day. Everyone from the dugout raced onto the pitch, where the team was screaming their heads off, jumping on each other like children.
I spent God knows how long on that field, hugging sweaty men and kissing their faces, shouting out expressions of pride over the roar of the fans who were forcing their way onto the pitch. Roy finally pulled me back to himself with urgency, as if he couldn’t bear to be far from me for long.
“Are you fucking crying?” There was a loving edge of teasing in his voice as his thumb swiped across my cheek, which I hadn’t even realized was wet.
I nodded, not caring that I was full grown woman weeping over a football match. “Fuck yeah I am,” I confirmed. “They fucking did it, Roy.”
He shook his head and wiped away more of my tears. “We fucking did it. You’re part of this team. Don’t you ever fucking forget that.” He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my chin, every square inch of my face. “I love you,” he mumbled as his mouth finally found mine.
“Love you too,” I managed to huff out between kisses that were slowly becoming heated as the boys began shouting the Richmond chant at the top of their lungs and formed a conga line. “Watch it, or Jamie’s gonna give you another warning about keeping things family-friendly.”
“Fuck it. If they wanna broadcast this, we might as well give ’em something worthwhile.” With that, he dipped me backwards, latching his lips to mine in a way that could only be described as cinematic.
That kiss was as if he’d managed to peer into every girlhood fantasy of mine and decided it wasn’t enough. As if he’d taken every great rom-com kiss and wanted to show them how it was done. I knew my girlfriends were sitting in a pub, cackling with glee about how I had twenty-eight posters of this man in my childhood bedroom and was now snogging him on national television. I knew my parents were in the stands, my mum beaming with joy at seeing me so in love, my dad playfully grumbling and asking if Roy really had to kiss her like that, but unable to help the smile on his own face. I knew we’d have to endure lots of teasing at the team celebration, with the guys egging Roy on to kiss me like that again, and with Roy giving in after having just the right amount of shots that would make him forget to be grumpy. And I knew I’d be thinking about this particular kiss for a very, very long time.
As I touched his face, wondering how long we could get away with this embrace before we crossed over into truly insufferable, my mind drifted back to our conversation that morning, and an obvious realization hit me: I want to kiss Roy Kent for the rest of my life.
~
Rebecca’s email took me off guard. It was a week since the Arsenal match, and Roy was outside putting our suitcases in the car while I double checked the reservations for the weekend holiday we’d planned to celebrate the end of the season. It was supposed to be a simple, easy weekend, full of food and drinks, relaxing, reading, maybe a little sightseeing if I could convince Roy, and no football whatsoever. Just us, a normal couple. But now Rebecca’s email would be looming over my head the whole time.
Roy noticed. Of course he noticed, he noticed everything when it came to me. We had stopped to have lunch and for once, I was quiet. He tilted his head at me as I poked at my food.
“Alright. What the fuck is wrong?”
I looked up at him, the concern in his eyes contrasting with the harsh way he spoke. “Nothin’,” I lied.
He shook his head. “Come off it. I’m not going to spend my first chance to actually relax in months with you not talking to me. You’ve got me too used to all your fucking prattling.” He reached out and took my free hand as his voice softened. “Come on. We’re supposed to tell each other things. Fucking vulnerable, remember?”
Despite myself, I smiled at our favorite word. “I, um, got an email from Rebecca this morning.” I squirmed, not quite looking at Roy.
“Doesn’t she know it’s your fucking break?” he teased, clearly trying to help me relax. “Fuck does she want?”
I set my fork down and took a deep breath before I spoke at hyper speed. “Rebecca wants to make me the Assistant to the Director of Football Operations. Working directly under Higgins. She says they both were very impressed with everything I did this season, and they want to see what I can do with more responsibility. And Higgins wants more time with his family, and he and I get along so well already, and it would be a really great opportunity-”
“I know.”
His suddenness caught me off-guard. “What d’you mean you know?”
He bobbled his head in that nervous manner of his, half-smile playing on his lips. “Rebecca and Higgins came to the gaffers before the Arsenal match and asked what we’d think of the move.”
My stomach fluttered as I stared at him. Fuck, I should have ordered a drink.“And what did you tell her?”
Roy sipped the beer he’d been smart enough to order. “Told her she could fuck right off if she thought she could move you out of our office.” He smirked and shrugged. “And that you completely fucking deserve it.” He leaned forward earnestly. “You’re too fucking good to stay down there with us, babe. You should be running the whole fucking club, not just bossing around me and Ted and Beard. You are going to be amazing. I’ll fucking manage to figure out how to get to interviews and press conferences on time, I promise.”
Tears I didn’t realize had formed threatened to fall when I saw the excitement and pride glowing on his face. “Just put a fucking reminder on your phone, you idiot,” I managed to choke out.
“See, it’s that loving, patient guidance I’m going to miss when you’re upstairs plotting your hostile takeover of the football world.” Roy lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Almost as much as I’ll miss seeing your gorgeous face every time I walk into our office.” He squeezed my hand. “Take the fucking job.”
“It’s a pretty great job,” I murmured, gazing at our hands. “And I mean, who knows, maybe someday I could have Higgins’s post.”
Roy’s smile widened when he saw me seriously considering the position. “Ruthless woman. I’ll let Higgins know you’re coming for his job.”
He earned a laugh from me. “We’ll see how I like being his assistant first,” I assured Roy. I squeezed his hand, thinking. “I’m just really going to miss sharing an office with you, y’know?”
He shrugged. “Guess we gotta figure out a way to make up for all that lost time.” He paused, taking a sip of his beer as his eyes suddenly became shifty. “Say, what do you think of that flat of yours?”
I almost choked on the sudden shift in the conversation. “My flat? It’s fine. I like it well enough.”
Roy’s face became serious. “But d’you really like it? Because I’d be willing to move in, but fucking Oscar’s spoiled and likes having a yard. I really think he’d prefer it if you moved in with us.” He licked his lips anxiously. “I’d fucking like it too.”
Roy wants to live together. Roy wants to live together. Roy wants to live together. “You want me to move in with you?” I squeaked, wondering, as I often did, when I would wake up from the dream I was living in.
“You already have your own key. You’re there even more than your own flat. Half your shit is already in my closet. I fucking hate it when you’re not there. Besides, you can’t fucking cook, so I’d like to make sure you’re well-fed.” He shrugged. “D’you want to?”
He was doing that thing. That thing where he acted like something was insignificant and casual, like it didn’t matter too much, when underneath he was a ball of nerves, anxiously waiting for an answer. It was a defense mechanism, for sure. A way to make sure people knew that whatever they said didn’t matter to Roy, even though I knew that what I said mattered to him very much. It was, in my opinion, one of the most adorable and attractive things he did.
I didn’t make him sit in that nervousness for long. “Yeah. Yes. Definitely.” My smile was probably the dopiest, silliest one I’d ever worn. “I’d love to.”
“You sure? You don’t seem too thrilled.” Roy grinned and leaned back in his seat, staring at me for a moment. “Look at you. Kickass new job, moving in with your dishy boyfriend. Your life fucking rocks.”
“I’m sorry, did you just call yourself dishy?” I snorted.
He cleared his throat, cheeks tinted pink. “Fucking saw someone call me that on Twitter the other day. Figured my girlfriend would agree.”
I shook my head and laughed. “God, what’re you going to do without me in the office telling you when you sound like an absolute wanker?”
~
The off-season involved a lot of moving on my part. First, I had to pack up my entire flat and move everything into Roy’s house; luckily, Roy was right when he said that half of my things were already at his place. He’d managed to wrangle the players who weren’t away on holiday to help us move all the boxes one afternoon, rewarding them with pizza and beer, which somehow evolved into a karaoke party in Roy’s- our­- living room, with Oscar jumping from person to person, just waiting for someone to drop a slice of pizza.
It was well past midnight by the time everyone left; I assumed Roy would want to go straight to sleep after the exhausting day we’d had. Instead, he dragged me into the kitchen once I’d changed into an old Sunderland shirt of his.
“Didn’t you have enough pizza already?” I asked, stifling a yawn. “’m ready for bed.”
“Just have one thing to do first,” he mumbled, rummaging through the fridge. “Grab a couple of glasses from the bar, yeah?”
Rolling my eyes, I did as I was told, picking up a pair of wine glasses that Keeley had gifted us in honor of the move. When I brought them back to Roy, I stopped in my tracks.
On the counter was a chilled bottle of champagne and a tiny cake, just perfect for two. Roy leaned on the counter, eyeing me carefully, a smirk playing on his lips.
“What’s all this then?” I breathed, blinking from either the tiredness or the surprise. Maybe both.
Roy shrugged, picking up the bottle. “Fucking celebrating of course.” He opened the bottle with ease, but not without champagne starting to flow out. “Shit, bring me the glasses,” he laughed, trying to avoid spilling everywhere.
The kitchen filled with sleepy giggles as we managed to get most of the champagne into the glasses rather than on the countertop. Once we’d finally gotten our glasses filled properly, I sat in my usual spot, with Roy opting to stand next to me, gazing at me softly. He held up his glass.
“Welcome home,” he murmured, tapping his glass to mine with a small clink.
My cheeks warmed as I sipped my champagne, staring at Roy as he did the same. Maybe it was the late hour and my tiredness, but it didn’t feel real, moving in with Roy. And it wasn’t even because it was Roy freaking Kent; rather, it was because I found it hard to believe anyone was capable of feeling the intense love that burned in my chest as Roy handed me a fork and slid the little cake towards me.
We ate and drank in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the clinking of forks against the plate and Oscar pattering around and our soft chuckles every time our eyes met. After Roy put everything in the sink, mumbling something about taking care of the dishes in the morning, he turned to me, sleepy smile on his face.
“Oi, you brought the blanket, right?”
I had this one particular blanket that had always laid on my couch in my flat. My gran had made it, and it was, without a doubt, the warmest, comfiest blanket in the universe. Roy had gotten in the habit of stealing it from the first time he’d come over to watch The Sound of Music and often brought it to bed when he spent the night. Honestly, there was a very real chance he asked me to move in just so he could have the blanket at his house.
“Um, yeah, it’s one of these boxes somewhere…” I ran my fingers through my hair, eyeing the ridiculous number of cardboard boxes that now decorated Roy’s- our­- house.
Before I could suggest he waited until the morning to look for it, he had already walked over to one of the boxes and started digging. Since he clearly was not going to bed until he found it, I figured I might as well do the dishes. I was rinsing the glasses we’d drank champagne out of when I heard-
“What the absolute fuck is this?”
When I turned around, there were two Roy Kents in the doorway. One was my boyfriend, shirtless and ready for bed, eyebrows raised higher than I’d ever seen them, his mouth wide open in amusement, laughter bursting out of him. The other was cardboard, clad in his Richmond uniform and wearing a scowl.
“Oh fuck!” I nearly dropped the glass I was holding. “You weren’t- that box was supposed to go to my mum’s- shit!” I was choking on embarrassment as my face turned redder than a tomato.
In all the years I’d spent watching him on television and the countless hours I’d now spent in his presence, I had never heard Roy Kent laugh so damn much. He was doubled over with laughter, wiping away tears and making so much noise he woke up Oscar.
I turned off the sink and stormed over, folding the cardboard cutout back up and tossing it on top of the box it had come out of. With a huff, I turned to Roy, who was finally starting to breathe again.
“It was a gag gift from my dad for my birthday a few years ago,” I mumbled, not looking at his smug face. “Kept it because my mates and I thought it was funny to bring out when we watched matches at my place. I was going to take it to my mum’s, figured one of these days I’d sort through all my… football things and throw some stuff out and decide what to do with the rest.”
Seeing the humiliation on my face, Roy sobered up and grabbed my shoulders. “C’mere,” he chuckled, tugging me close to himself. “Please tell me you were not going to throw that thing away.”
I shrugged, still avoiding his gaze. “Probably. I dunno. Wasn’t planning on deciding that right now.”
“Hey.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to look at the tenderness in his eyes. “Don’t you dare be fucking embarrassed.” He tilted his head when I let out a little hmmf. “Did I… did I ever apologize for bringing up your posters that night?”
We both knew what he was referring to.
“Dunno,” I muttered, knowing full well that the answer was no. We’d never brought up that particular comment.
“Oh.” Roy’s hands slid off my shoulders and he grabbed my hand, leading me to the couch. We sat, and he kept my hand in his. “I’m sorry. I… I never want you to feel embarrassed about having a fucking crush on me, alright?”
I shrugged, glancing away. “It’s… it’s silly. All those posters and the sweater and now the freaking cardboard cutout. It just reminds me what a crazed stalker fan I was before we met. Makes me feel a bit embarrassed.”
He smiled and shifted closer. “It might be a little silly,” he agreed. “But it’s also fucking flattering.” He brushed some hair out of my face. “Y’know, when I first saw all that stuff in your room, I thought my heart was going to fucking stop. Because there you were, my stunning new officemate, with my stupid fucking face on your walls. Even the really bad pictures.” He shrugged, suddenly bashful. “Made me realize I had a real fucking shot with you.” He gestured towards the folded-up cutout. “So, I know when you see that shit, you feel embarrassed and all, but when I see it, I remember how fucking excited I got when I realized that you were at least attracted to me. And how seeing you get all flustered, just like you are right now-” He poked my nose affectionately. “-gave me the guts to kiss you.”
To punctuate his point, he leaned over and gently pressed his lips to mine, reminding me of that moment in my bedroom, where he sat on my bed and asked if he was still hot and kissed me for the first time. It felt just as surreal now as it did then, and I asked whatever god was out there to not let me wake up from this dream.
When Roy pulled back, he wore that same fucking smile, the one I didn’t think I’d ever get used to seeing. “Right. Help me find the fucking blanket so we can get some sleep, hmm?” Holding my hand, he helped me to my feet, and the two of us set to work, looking for the blanket so we could finally go to our bed.
~
Working for Higgins was an easy adjustment. I loved my new office upstairs; I had put up photos of Roy, both of my little orange sticky notes, a couple drawings from Phoebe, pictures with Keeley and Rebecca, Oscar, the team, my family, Roy’s family. The handmade card that Ted, Beard, Roy, and the whole team had signed to congratulate me on the promotion sat on my desk, alongside a framed photo of Roy kissing me after the final game against Arsenal, courtesy of Keeley, who’d found it in a tabloid.
I loved having my office right next to Higgins, who liked to pop in for a chat in the late mornings, and brought in treats that his wife made for us to share, and tapped out a beat on our shared wall when I played my music loud enough for him to hear. He listened excitedly to my ideas and suggestions, and he quickly stopped referring to me as “Assistant to the Director of Football Operations” and began calling me “Assistant Director of Football Operations”; it was a change everyone at the Dog Track was quick to adopt.
But I had to admit, my favorite thing about my new office was the window by my desk. As much as I missed my office that I had shared with Roy, this office had one great advantage: the view. My window overlooked the pitch, where I could watch training. Meaning, I could watch Roy. When my window was cracked open, the way it always happened to be when the team was on the pitch, I could hear him screaming “Whistle!” and swearing at Jamie. Sometimes I’d just stand by the window and watch for a bit; that always managed to catch his eye, and I was always rewarded with a smirk and a wave from Roy, sometimes some teasing whistles from the team or a cheerful “Howdy!” from Ted.
After a bit more than a full season working upstairs, I found myself skipping from Higgins’s office to mine. We’d been pursuing a great young player out of Mexico, someone Dani had brought to our attention, and we’d finally signed him. And, despite my insistence that this was a team effort, I had been instrumental in making it happen. So, Keeley and Rebecca decided to take me out to a celebratory lunch, one that Rebecca informed me would take the rest of the afternoon and also required me to dress nice. Accordingly, I had worn heels and a springy little dress that had made Roy’s jaw drop with a soft “Whoa” that morning as we got ready for work. Seeing that man check me out still managed to make my heart flutter with delight.
After popping into Higgins’s office to let him know I was heading out, I went back to mine to open the window and shout down a quick goodbye to Roy. Instead, I found an empty pitch. Weird.
I figured they must have gone into the weight room or something, just a spontaneous change of plans. Par for the course with Ted in charge. So, I made my way downstairs, thinking I’d pop into Roy’s office to see if I could get a proper goodbye.
The changing room was eerily quiet, as was Ted and Beard’s office. I poked my head into Roy’s office, which I hated to admit looked empty since I’d moved upstairs. It was especially empty without Roy. With a small hmmf, I paused to glance over his desk, smiling when I glimpsed the picture of us that sat on his desk, a selfie in front of the Mona Lisa that he’d grumbled good-naturedly about.
“That’s a great picture of us.”
Roy stood in the doorway, kebab takeaway container in hand. He smiled and walked over to me, placing the Styrofoam box on his desk. He kissed my forehead sweetly and let his eyes trail over my face.
“Just wanted to say bye before I head to lunch,” I explained, giving his leather jacket a friendly tug. “You look nice, by the way. Interview today?”
He shrugged. “Just didn’t want to be in fucking workout clothes all day,” he mumbled. He nodded towards the takeaway box. “Got you somethin’.”
I frowned. “Kebabs? Roy, I told you I’ve got lunch plans with Keeley and Rebecca.”
“Open the box.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Roy, I’m gonna be late. Can’t you just toss these in the fridge, and I’ll eat them tonight? Or you can eat them. Or-”
“Just open the fucking box,” Roy said with a laugh, eyebrows raised. “Shit, you really never fucking shut up.”
Narrowing my eyes, I picked up the surprisingly light container. I glanced back at Roy, who nodded at me, encouraging me to open it. With a sigh I opened the lid. Instead of finding our usual lunch, there was a small, velvet box inside and a little orange sticky note that simply read:
To my future wife
XOXO Roy
I snapped my head up to look at Roy, whose smile had grown. Hands shaking slightly, I picked up the black box, letting the Styrofoam container plop back onto Roy’s desk. When I opened the little box, I gasped.
Inside was a diamond ring. It was simple, a small diamond, the exact kind I’d described to Keeley and Rebecca at our sleepover so long ago. I looked back up at Roy, whose eyes had that old anxiety swimming in them, alongside affection and tenderness.
“I’d get down on one knee, but, y’know,” he mumbled, offering up a bashful smile. He cleared his throat. “If I could go back to the first time I bought you kebabs for lunch, I’d have done this. Because every minute of not being married to you is a big fucking waste of time.”
My breath caught in my throat as I blinked back tears. “Roy,” I gasped, my eyes shifting back to the beautiful ring.
He reached over and took the ring out of the box and held it up to me. “What d’you say?” His voice was soft, tender, full of adoration to an extent I’d never heard. “Please say yes.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the familiar phrase. “Yes.” I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, my heart bursting at the feeling of his smile against mine.
To my surprise, he pulled back. “She fucking said yes!” he hollered, slipping the ring on my finger.
In an instant, every Greyhound player, along with Ted, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Keeley, burst into the tiny office, shouting and cheering and hugging each other with even more joy than when they’d finished first. Someone- Dani and Colin and Sam, I presumed- started throwing confetti around the office while we were ambushed with hugs and kisses and congratulations.
Keeley and Rebecca smothered me in their arms, offering their own words of excitement and joy. I looked at them suspiciously.
“There was no lunch, was there?”
Rebecca scrunched her nose and shook her head. “Roy asked if we could find an excuse to dress you up,” she admitted, tears in her eyes.
Keeley, who was openly crying, held up her phone. “And a good thing! Look how fucking beautiful you look!” Sure enough, I looked gorgeous in the photos Keeley had managed to take of the proposal. But my eyes were drawn to Roy’s face and the absolute joy that could be seen there.
I felt someone grab my hand and tug; Roy smiled down at me as he pulled me close. “Did I do good?” he murmured. When I nodded, he grunted. “Good. I’m actually impressed that these muppets could keep a fucking secret.”
As he pulled me into a proper kiss, Jamie and Sam started a chant that everyone quickly joined in: “He’s here, he’s there, he’s gonna marry her! Roy Kent! Roy Kent!”
~
The night before the wedding, I packed a bag to go stay at my parents’ house, where Keeley, my maid of honor, insisted on having a sleepover so she could see the shrine, as my childhood bedroom was often called.
Her mouth widened into that Cheshire-cat grin as she took in all the posters. “Holy shit, it’s even better than I imagined!” she giggled, setting her things down. “You’re telling me that Roy saw this, and that’s what made him decide to kiss you?”
Sitting down on my bed, I chuckled. “I know. He must’ve really fucking liked me.”
Instead of joining me, Keeley meandered around my room, pointing out different posters and tittering at them. She turned to me, eyebrow cocked. “Alright. Which one is your absolute favorite?”
I bobbled my head, grinning. “Well, there’s always this one.” I pointed above me to the poster of a young Roy that my dad and I had argued over the placement of. I stood and skipped over to the closet. “Or this one.” Taped inside my closet was a picture of a shirtless Roy running, the one that I’d secretly ripped out of a magazine when I was sixteen and spent far too many hours drooling over.
Keeley howled with laughter at the sight of it. “Holy shit, no wonder you’re marrying him, he looks fit as fuck there. Has he seen this one?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” I answered, joining in her snickering. “That’s the one secret I’m going to keep from my husband, thank you very much.”
We spent the rest of the night sitting on my bed, gabbing and giggling and sharing the champagne Keeley had packed in her overnight bag, until Keeley knocked out next to me. I gazed up at the ceiling, staring at Roy, unable to believe what my life had become. When I had put that poster up, I was a giggling young girl, fantasizing about what it would be like to meet the guy on the poster, the one who made me betray my family and watch Chelsea matches. And in mere hours, I’d be standing in front of that same man and marrying him.
Oh, if only my teenage self could see me now.
As excited as teenage me would be about marrying Roy freaking Kent (and the fact that we got to shag that gorgeous man), she’d be even more excited to find out that he was kind. And loving. And funny. And good with dogs and kids, despite himself. And that he loved The Sound of Music and reading. And that he was a damn good cook. And that he begrudgingly sang Spice Girls songs on road trips. And that he loved us.
Before I drifted off to sleep, I blew a kiss to the Roy on my ceiling, silently thanking him for his role in introducing me to the real Roy Kent.
~
My hands started to sweat as I heard the violins playing. Keeley had squeezed me tight and shoved my bouquet in my hands before walking down the aisle, where Roy stood with Jamie, who he’d asked to be best man through gritted teeth. After Keeley went Phoebe, in her poofy dress, who, at this point, was probably more excited about the wedding than anyone else.
As I took my position in front of the closed doors, my dad linked our arms, smiling at me with gentle pride. “You ready?” With my mouth insanely dry, all I could manage was a firm nod. “Roy Kent,” he clucked, shaking his head. “You’re really marrying Roy fucking Kent.” He kissed my cheek. “And more importantly, you’re marrying someone who loves you the way you deserve.”
“That I am,” I managed, taking a deep breath as the doors opened.
Roy’s eyes lit up the moment he saw me, just like I knew mine did at the sight of him. As a surprise, I’d asked the violinists to play the wedding march from The Sound of Music for my walk down the aisle; I could see the moment Roy realized it, because he threw his head back and rolled his eyes cheekily.
After my dad kissed my cheek and placed my hand on Roy’s, Roy leaned forward. “My fucking Maria,” he whispered, shaking his head.
“My Captain von Trapp,” I countered with a wink.
~
Rebecca had meant it as a joke when she offered to let us use the Dog Track as our reception venue. But Roy and I jumped at the offer, thinking it was fitting, considering how central A.F.C. Richmond was to our relationship. In the days leading up to our wedding day, we spent hours transforming the pitch into a proper party space, surpassing all of our expectations.
After allowing people to mingle with appetizers and drinks, Ted, who we’d allowed to play emcee for the night, called us forward for toasts. Roy sighed and rolled his eyes, more of a reflex than anything else, and gripped my hand tight as we walked to the stage that Keeley had managed to have brought in.
Roy took the microphone from Ted with a grunt and a curt nod. He let out a deep breath and brought the microphone to his mouth. “Right. So, for some reason, everyone thinks that prick over there is my best friend.” He pointed at Jamie, who stood up, looking prouder than when he was named Player of the Year. “But honestly, this right here is my best friend in the world.” He turned back to me, ignoring the offended scoff from Jamie. “From the moment I crashed her father’s birthday dinner, she’s become my very best friend.” He cleared his throat and gave his head a little nervous scratch. “So, most people who know us know the story of how we got together. Dad’s birthday dinner, posters in the childhood bedroom, secret relationship that apparently everyone at Nelson Road fucking knew about. But, I’ve never told anyone about how I was basically a fucking stalker before any of that.”
I looked over at Roy quizzically. He smirked and continued.
“See, I fancied her the fucking moment I met her. Like, Ted brought her into the office, and I couldn’t say a fucking word. I think I told her not to wear any rank perfume and then just slouched off.” Everyone gave out a light chuckle. “Then I bought her lunch, as a way to, I dunno, make conversation. And we sort of started chatting at work a bit after that. And then this one Friday night she leaves early. And Ted says that he forgot to give her some papers he’d wanted her to work on over the weekend, and he’s all ‘Oh well, she can get it Monday’. But me, being properly whipped at this point, I fucking say ‘I’ll take it to her’.”
My jaw fell slightly; this whole time, I had thought Ted must’ve begged or bribed Roy to bring me those papers. Had he really brought them just to see me?
“I made up some shit about how she told me whereabouts she lived and that it wasn’t too far from my place. And now, looking back, I don’t think he fucking believed me.”
“Nope!” Ted called out with a hearty laugh. “I knew you were in love!”
Roy playfully shot Ted his favorite gesture and continued. “So, I realized I had no clue where she lived. And I felt like an absolute wanker. But then I remembered, we were on some stupid Snapchat group with Ted.”
“You’re welcome!” Ted chimed in again.
Roy rolled his eyes. “And this gorgeous idiot had her location on. So, I did what any sane guy would do: I fucking stalked her. And I turned into fucking Hugh Grant in Love Actually and went knocking on every door in that neighborhood like a right idiot. Until finally, I knocked on a door and saw this beautiful face.” He smiled gently at me. “And I realized right then that I loved that face. And I wanted to see that face every day.” He leaned over and gave me a small kiss. “So, I just want to say, I fucking love you. And I am so happy that I get to see your face and buy you kebabs for the rest of my life.” He took the champagne flute that Ted was holding out to him. “To Mrs. Roy Kent.”
“Mrs. Roy Kent!” everyone repeated, clinking their glasses together and sipping their champagne.
I toasted with Roy and took the microphone he offered me. “All I can say,” I started as everyone quieted, “is that dreams really do come true, and sometimes you get to marry the guy on the poster.” Everyone gave a light chuckle before I went on. “Honestly, though. Anyone who knows me knows that I have had a monstrous crush on this beautiful man for years. Pretty much since the day he made his debut. My poor dad had to watch me put up posters of a Chelsea player on my walls. Best day of his life was when Roy Kent came to Richmond, because it finally meant me putting up Greyhound posters.”
My dad’s laugh was the loudest of all.
“But I realized that today I’m not marrying some guy on a poster.” I turned to Roy and looked into his eyes. “Today I’m marrying Roy. The fit guy I met at work who cooks and who is a wonderful uncle and who loves Dan Brown novels and makes me happy.” I knew my smile was big and silly as I gazed at him. “When I met you, it was a dream come true, getting to know my big celebrity crush. But now, the life I’m living is better than any dream. And I love you for that. I absolutely love you.” I leaned over and planted a heated kiss on his lips, eliciting wolf-whistles from the Greyhounds. Blushing, I raised my glass. “To Roy!”
“To Roy!” came the echo, amidst cheers and sips of champagne.
Rot was relieved when the toasts were over (especially Jamie’s surprisingly tearful speech). We went through the rest of the motions- first dance, dinner, cutting the cake- and finally came to the part of the evening we were most looking forward to: the party. We danced with our friends and drank, reveling in the joy we all shared.
I was enjoying a dance with Beard when Roy grabbed my hand, saying he needed to show me something.
“Roy, can’t you wait until we leave for our honeymoon?” I teased as he led me away from the dance floor.
He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I think you talk so fucking much just so I kiss you to try to shut you up,” he quipped.
We came to a stop at the edge of the party, where a flat wrapped package sat alone. I stared at Roy quizzically as he picked it up and handed it to me.
“I think your office can use some more décor,” he started slowly. “Especially because I heard some rumors about Higgins thinking about early retirement.”
I sighed and bit back a smile. “There has been talk,” I admitted. “Nothing set in stone, but I am definitely in the running to eventually become the D.F.O. once Higgins is ready to hand over the reins.” I gestured to whatever it was I held in my hands. “But what’s this?”
He bobbled his head. “Wedding gift. For your office. I’ve owed you this for a while now.”
My curiosity growing, I quickly opened the gift, letting the paper fall to the floor. It was something in a frame. I turned it over and threw my head back when I saw it.
It was the poster from my ceiling, the one Roy and I sat under when we kissed for the first time, only now it was framed. And more importantly, autographed.
“You’re an arsehole,” I laughed, cupping Roy’s cheek and pressing a kiss to his lips. “And I fucking love it.”
He shrugged, taking the poster from my hands and laying it down so he could hold me, leaning his forehead to mine. “Told you I’d autograph it for you,” he mumbled before peppering kisses all over my face. “I think it’ll look fucking great in your office, don’t you?”
I laughed and nodded. “Even if I don’t become D.F.O., I’ll still have the best office decorations in the building.”
Roy pulled back, studying my face carefully. “Fuck that. You’re going to get it.” He kissed me again. “After all, you’re a fucking superstar.”
I let out a small huff, embarrassed by the praise. “Roy-”
“Don’t you ever stop talking?”
And with that, he shut me up in the best way he knew how.
~
Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @sonyume @djarindroid @reading-blogs @thezimi @benedictscanvasmain @wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff @puckyou-forpuckssake @old-enough-to-know-better73 @ladygrey03 @soundofboots @justsomefunshit @geekgirl1996 @tedssweaters @queen-of-dumbasses @miaalltheway @di-essere-amato @shakespeareanwannabe @hotdoglamp @mal-adaptive-dreams @allthetroubleiveseen @netflix-addict @callmecasey81 @forgetmeaway @royalestrellas @kingleahhh @lemoonandlestars @ghxxxf @jill2629-blog @sunderland-6 @janalustare @ellouisa17
434 notes · View notes
drewstarky · 4 years ago
Text
SOUR | T. Holland
Word Count: 1.7k
Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader
Warnings: angsty af, swearing
Summary: y/n and tom broke up, and when tom comes around with his new girl 2 weeks later, y/n is sour. 
A/n: I was hesitant to post this due to everything going on with tom lmao but yk, fuck it lol. anyways lmk if you want a part two cause I this was pretty short and I have ideas! also I didn’t edit this much lol so sorry for the mistakes!
Tumblr media
His brown guilty eyes were enough to know that he moved on, in two weeks to be exact, after you broke it off. He was spotted recently with a girl he said he was just friends with, what a damn lie. 
You try to not let the tears out as you see them making their way on the red carpet of the movie premiere. He looked you straight in the fucking eyes, yet couldn’t even give you a heads up he was bringing a date tonight. You worked together for six months yet he didn’t have the decency.  
He betrayed you. He didn’t cheat but he betrayed you. 
You had even mentioned her by name before, yet he said you were paranoid and had nothing to worry about. What bullshit. 
She was just a new trophy for him, one that he’d put on the shelf later, or smash like it like you were broken. 
 It started out so sweet and innocent. You had met working together and had started dating under the radar, and you fell in love with him so quickly, even at his worst, but it didn’t matter. He moved on with you still in the picture and that’s what hurt the most. But he would never see or care about how much you hurt. He wasn’t sorry. 
Isn’t it funny how someone you thought could love you the way you loved them, was a damn traitor? 
He played all these twisted games with your mind, thinking that he felt the same way about you, or at least cared. 
God, you wanted to scream, she was sleeping in the bed you lied in and made with him. But she couldn’t care less, she got the prize, a shitty one at that. 
You didn’t get it, he couldn’t have fallen in love with someone that quickly, not after what you had. 
All you had done for Tom, it didn’t apparently matter to him, cause he’s dating her. He gave you his fucking word, that you were the one who meant something to him, you guessed he just used you.
She was gorgeous too, and she made you feel so small, unimportant and the paparazzi all turned to them, and barely any was paying any mind to you, the star of the movie. It sounded selfish but you put the blood sweat and tears into this movie, and all she had to do was walk with the man you put blood sweat and tears into, and she had all the attention.
He just had to bring her and was showing her off like a new trophy. God, you hated him. You hated him for hurting you like this. And yet, if he asked for you back, you would probably jump at the chance. 
He seemed so genuine and true when you had first met him. Brown doe-eyed, attentive and listening to every word you said like it was the most important thing in the world, then things got ugly. He would play all these twisted games with you, making you feel like nothing one moment, and then his everything the next. 
He even gave you his fucking word and a promise ring that he would always love you, But Isn’t it funny? He’ll never feel sorry for breaking you. 
Suddenly one of your friends, well tom’s brother, wraps his arm around your waist, whispering to you, asking if your okay, before the paps get a few snaps in of the moment. Harry starts leading you away from the commotion before you cried. No one had asked you that until today. Which kind of shell shocked you, because you weren’t and he was the first person who seemed to care.
Harry at the moment couldn’t care less about the out-of-character way his brother was acting, especially towards you. Yes, he loved his brother but hated how he was acting. He couldn’t see how he could treat someone as lovely as you like that. 
Tom didn’t even notice the way you were destroyed. He let you go, Harry couldn’t understand why because tom seemed so happy with you, until nearing the end of the relationship. 
“Thank you, Harry.” you sniffle, once reaching the inside of the building. 
“You shouldn’t be thanking me. I should be apologizing for my brother.”
You smile weakly at him. He wipes the tears from your eyes, before suggesting,
“After they have you up on stage for the thank you’s and stuff, we should just ditch this and go back to my hotel and get room service and raid my candy stash, if you’re up for it.”
“I’ll think about it,” you say with a more genuine yet sad smile.
“Let’s get in there, shall we?” he puts his arm out for you and you link yours in his. 
What you didn’t realize is that tom saw harry wiping your tears while doing an interview, and saw you link your arms together when he got inside. To say he was fuming doesn’t even cover how enraged he was. 
Once getting in, you realized you and tom would be sitting next to one another, something you truly wished you could get out of. 
“You’d better wish me luck.” You point to the seats. 
Harry got the bright idea to just take his brother’s spot. He wouldn’t care anyway, he had his new girl Zabrina. 
You and Harry had a small conversation about what both of you had been up to after he was Tom’s assistant for filming. You saw him almost every day when you and tom would hang out, harry being the third wheel. You had spent a decent chunk of time with him and definitely preferred the company over being alone, or with your ex.
“I can’t believe you dropped your SD card down the drain! Photos are your life, so you should have paid attention!” you laugh with him.
“Harry, You’re in my seat.” Tom interrupts, with a scowl on his face. 
“Can’t you just move down one? Y/n and I are talking here.”
“Tommy I can’t see from that seat!” Zabrina pouts like a child. 
“If she can’t see why do I have to sit there? I actually worked behind the scenes on this movie!” 
“Harry, don’t make me-”
“You know what! Harry and I were leaving after we thank everyone. So you two lovebirds can have the whole row!” you say venom seething from your mouth. 
“There you go, Tommy. Have a nice night you two!” Harry follows up, really sick of the attitude his brother was having.
Tom’s face turned red under the makeup he had on. He was enraged. His brother was betraying him. 
“Have a nice time, fucking around” he said, seeing red. he saw your face soften, from anger to confusion, to sadness. You didn’t think he thought so low of you.
“What the fuck tom! We aren’t-”
“It’s not worth it Harry, he’s not worth it,” you say sadly. Standing up, Turning to go towards the stage. 
That hit tom with a pang in his chest. He was just trying to get over you, to move forward. But maybe that was the problem. He just left you in the dust (peter parker is that you?) to navigate the way you felt over losing one of the best things you ever had. God, you wished you didn’t fall in love with him before he betrayed you. You wished he just would have thought it through before he ruined you. 
Your director motioned over to you and Tom to go up on the stage. 
“I’ll meet you outside, Y/n/n.” 
That was tom’s nickname for you. He came up with it and he was the only one who could call you that. You were his and he was yours. But yet he knew that long-distance was so fucking hard. He couldn’t put you or himself, so he found someone who was fine with the distance. Zabrina barely paid attention to him unless he wanted attention for herself, but he didn’t realize how he broke much more of you than the surface showed. 
“She’s really pretty, I hope she makes you happy,” you mention bitterly, hoping in a terrible way,  he’d never be as happy as he was with you. 
Before Tom, you scream out no one would make him happy as you did. Your director cut tom off.
After your director said thanks to everyone and the film started you grab your bag from your assistant, before heading to the exit, tom hurriedly tried to follow you, being caught by Zabrina, asking Tom to take a selfie with her, so she could commemorate her ‘prize’ when truly, Tom was using her as a rebound. 
“Zabrina, I need to talk to harry!” he whispers yells.
“Why? He literally is taking to your wretched ex?” she says with venom in her voice. 
Tom jogs around her, trying to get to you and Harry, While Zabrina dramatically calls after him.
He was too late, though, he saw you from the doors, you were already getting in your getaway car, with Harry. He ruined everything.
Harry and you were sitting in the limousine that was rented for you, before harry states, “He’ll be the one who crying, I promise you.”
“I always knew this is how He’d leave me. He found someone more exciting, and better than me. I was used a discarded like nothing.” you laugh through the tears.
“You’ll find someone who finds you exciting Y/n, and you’ll be their whole world.” he comforts you.
“Good for him I guess, but it’s like we never happened. Like what the fuck is that?” you ask.
“He’s acting like a damn sociopath.” harry shrugs.
You laugh at that one. 
“So what do you want to watch Y/n?”
“Would you hate me if I said legally blonde?”
“Not if we can watch fight club after.” 
“You have a deal, Sir!”
Tom however was stuck, watching you and him on screen. Reminiscing of how he fucked up. 
It was getting close to an intimate scene, probably his favorite one he’s ever done. All he could think about was someone else getting to touch you, and be with you, he wanted that but at the same time, he couldn’t deal with all the shit of being with you. The relationship was too good, so much that Tom thought sometimes he didn’t deserve someone like you. It was probably crazy of him for thinking like that, but he couldn’t bring you down with him, not when he was so fucked up. He wished he could be the one but he couldn’t so he just hoped you were okay.  
Tags:
@spideyspeaches
@greenorangevioletgrass
@queenofthepouges
@minejungwoo
@keithseabrook27
@lolooo22
@webmeupspiderdaddy
@harryhollandsgirlfriend
171 notes · View notes
captainkappa · 4 years ago
Text
Fanfic:: In Other Hands
When Din and Cobb go to take care of some slavers, Cobb is disarmed and has to improvise with the weapons that have fallen off Din’s utility belt.
Din/cobb, post-season 2, canon-typical violence
Shout out to coffeequill for betaing!
Link to AO3
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
As Cobb picks off another slaver running in fear of his life, he realizes how regular this is becoming. And it has all started with a meeting with the new self-proclaimed ‘King of Tatooine.’
He has invited all kinds of authority to Jabba’s old palace, now his. Even though Mos Peglo isn’t on the map anymore, Cobb wakes up to a stern-faced woman at his front door all the same. The conversation on the ride over hasn’t been great, but it does confirm the rumor that floated around Tatooine in the past few weeks.
The new king is the Boba Fett.
He has heard stories about Boba Fett, who hadn’t? Late enough in a cantina in Mos Eisley, it wouldn’t take long before someone started talking about their buddy who had family who had a friend who got taken in by the famed bounty hunter, never to return.
So yeah, Cobb is man enough to admit that, as he’s led through the dark, old palace, he is a little on edge. At the door, no one even asks for his blaster, which is a clear enough message as he’d ever heard.
His heart damn near plummets when he faces the man himself though.
Because if he is the rightful owner of the suit of armor Cobb had, he is properly fucked.
And damn did he ever look better in it, all polished and properly painted. He could see the glint of what might be his old armor behind him, on proud display.
Cobb tries to shake himself out of his fear and take in the rest of the room. The woman who led him there takes position on the other side of Fett. There are other people in the chamber, clearly all from Tatooine, looking just as scrappy as he. He tries his best to look his most mayoral as Fett starts talking about his plans for the planet. It is… far more humanitarian than he expected, with plans laid out for wiping out the slavers who take more than they give.
Cobb instantly likes Fett way more.
Then he is asking they introduce themselves and when the line gets to Cobb, he couldn’t help himself.
“I’m Cobb Vanth, marshal of Mos Pelgo. And I hoped Mando mentioned that I wasn’t the one to destroy the jetpack.”
Boba looks at him for a moment before letting out a laugh that echoed in the chamber. He turns around to face the suit of armor.
But then it moves.
He can’t help the words coming out of his mouth, interrupting the new king.
“Mando, is that you?”
And with that, the entire meeting is thrown into disarray. Cobb barely pays attention to the others as he meets Mando halfway up the steps to clasp his hand in both of his, making sure he’s real. Questions are flying out of his mouth a mile a minute; where’s the kid? When did he get back? How the hell do he and Boba know each other?
Mando and Boba share a look and with a shrug, the king dismisses them, the other authority figures looking confused as Mando leads him back into the palace, where they can catch up in peace.
Cobb tries not to think about how Mando’s hand doesn’t leave his until they’ve arrived at the room.
It’s been a couple of months since they first met, but Mando keeps making his way in Cobb’s memories. He tries to play it off as simple appreciation, he can appreciate the pure physicality of everything Mando had done, that was normal. But the longer he thinks about how Mando handled his son, the affection that could be stored in shoulders and head tilts, he has to admit that he’s harboring something else fiercely in his heart.
But those thoughts leave temporarily as Mando describes everything that happened since he left and Maker, if it doesn’t bring a tear to his eye seeing the restraint to which he described being separated from his son. Cobb can tell he’s not telling him everything that happened that day, but he doesn’t mind. Thankfully, Mando has managed to get contact of the Jedi since then, so he can see him and visit occasionally, but it’s just not the same.
Cobb is considering putting his hand on top of Mando’s when there’s a knock at the door and Boba, helmetless, lets himself in. He’s just as intimidating a figure with or without it, scars telling enough of a story as to the character of the man who proclaimed himself king.
Conversation flits between business and pleasure, stories about Boba, Mando, and Fennec on Tatooine. It’s clear the three of them have been planet side for a couple of weeks, if the body language between them is anything to go by. Cobb lets himself feel a little offended before letting it go. Mando clearly had some shit to parse through and Boba and Fennec had been there for him.
Any anxiety Cobb had about meeting the king has left. He leaves the palace with a scheduled date to take out some slavers near Mos Pelgo.
-=-
And now here Cobb is, a couple missions in, ducked behind some crates, picking off slavers one by one as they run out of the cave where Mando has since been let loose. He’s almost sad to miss seeing how Mando fights, especially if the terrified looks of those who thought they’d escaped are anything to do by.
It’s just them on this mission. He takes small pride when Mando vouched for his skill in front of Fett, letting him know they didn’t need any more help. It’s nice to know he’s earned Mando’s trust.
Ducking behind the crate, he’s swapping out power cells when Mando gets thrown out of the cave, rolling with a low grunt. He’s quickly followed by three of the biggest guy’s Cobb has ever seen, human all of them.
“Mando!”
He gets a hand waved at him for his trouble as Mando staggers to his feet, pulling out the spear on his back. At one point, Cobb had wondered if it was just decorative, but seeing Mando fight with it, as it sings in the air, the impact it makes on arms and heads, reveals it to be anything but.
But his fancy fighting with the goons isn’t helping him in a three on one match, especially with how long they’ve been at it already.
He takes another solid hit and goes flying farther away from Cobb, items from his belt going spinning into the sand.
Cobb shoves the battery pack in the blaster and tries to take a couple shots at the slavers before the trigger clicks.
Jammed.
“Dank farrik,” he yells, slapping the side of the blaster. All that gets him is a stinging palm.
He glances up to see all three goons going for Mando. Thinking quick, he fishes the knife he keeps stored in his boot and chucks it at the closest guy, only it goes lower than expected and pings off the armor.
Shit.
Cobb quickly scans for any weapon available as he hears Mando continue to get his ass handed to him. There’s a knife, but Cobb doesn’t trust his aim a second time, but it’s the thing beside it that catches his eye. It looks like a hilt, with what must be a spring-loaded blade inside, even if the size seems wrong for such a weapon.
As if he can tell what he’s thinking, Mando yells from across the way, “Don’t touch it!”
Well, with an invitation like that.
Cobb knows he’ll only have one shot at this. He vaults over the crate and scoops up the hilt. He gets a brief glance at it, figures the best place to hold it without hurting himself before charging in.
He takes a running leap before latching himself around the closest guy. He pulls his arm back for a swing.
He pushes the button and instead of a vibro-blade, a jet-black beam of light cuts through the man’s head as smooth as bantha butter.
“Fuck!” Cobb yells, falling off the man as his other arm screams in pain. He scrambles off the man’s back as he falls forward, dead as a doornail.
The blade stays there, letting out a faint humming as it lies in the sand, partially buried from where the man fell. The sand bubbles around the blade, heating up impossibly fast as it sits there, looking like a hole to the middle of the planet against the glare of the sand.
Before he can comprehend the power of the sword, a noise in front of him told him Mando still had trouble on his hands.
Cobb struggles to his feet, trying to pull out the blade as cleanly as possible before walking forward.
“Hey!” he yells, throat going dry as he catches a glance at the state of Mando, shoulders heaving and armor not looking terribly pretty.
That at least gets one of the goon’s attention, who looks at the blade in his hand and at his dead buddy.
“Leave ‘im alone.”
The guy doesn’t appreciate that and gets out his own blade, long and curved like a machete, before charging.
Cobb has never been a swordfighter, so he tries to go with motion that felt natural, a two-handed grip as he raises the sword to block the incoming attack.
He’s not expecting the blade to cut through the knife like it’s nothing. His balance thrown off, he tries to use the momentum to shove into the other man, forcing him to stumble back.
The other man looks just as surprised as Cobb feels, but he has a slightly better grip on the strange weapon. He takes the slavers hesitation to lunge with a swipe to the chest. The man goes down quick, a visible molten line through his armor.
It’s at that instant the smell of burn hair and flesh hits him. He falls to his knees, blade slipping through his fingers. He hears it sizzle and pop against the sand, but he can’t bring himself to right it.
He doesn’t know how long he stares at what lay before him.
“Cobb?” His head snaps up as he sees Mando blocking one of the suns. His armor is littered with blaster residue and a pauldron is hanging to his arm by a thread.
He should ask if he’s okay, if he’s handled the other guy.
“What the fuck is that?” he asks instead, pointing to the black blade.
Mando’s shoulder’s drop in a way that makes him expect a lecture, but then the Mandalorian stiffens, rushing to his side with a speed he wouldn’t have expected after that fight.
“You’re hurt!” And Cobb looks down at where he is looking before quickly looking away.
His left vambrace has been cut in two. Cobb only gets a glance at the wound before he has to look away, gut clenching. There is a huge gash on his arm that already looks cauterized.
“Easy, easy,” Mando says quietly, head suddenly right by his shoulder. “C’mon.”
“I can still walk,” Cobb says. He can tell he’s not convinced as steadier hands help him to his feet.
He swears he can hear Mando laugh as the wind kicks up and he feels his scarf be pulled up over his nose.
The last thing he hears before he passes out is Mando’s low voice saying, “We’ll be back at Boba’s soon.”
-=-
When Cobb wakes up, his head feels like it weighs as much as a bantha.
He puts two and two together when his head lolls around and he glimpses at the dim room around him, at white bandages around his arm. With no room looking nearly this nice at Mos Pelgo, he must be in Boba’s palace and he must be pumped full of drugs after the fight.
There’s movement close to his arm and he looks up and Mando is right there, beside him, fidgeting with something.
“Hey,” Cobb says, hoping the feeling of cotton in his mouth will pass.
Mando sits up straighter, visor turning to face him. “Hey, how do you feel?”
“Like my arm has been trampled to death, but it’s attached, so I can’t be too mad. You alright?”
He gets a head tilt at that. “I’m not the one in the medical wing.”
Cobb waves him away with his good arm. “Yeah, yeah, but you still took a beating from those guys.”
The helmet ducks down, and Cobb bites his lip to avoid blabbing about how cute the gesture is. “I’m fine.”
Cobb clicks his tongue. “Now don’t you go looking like that.”
Another head tilt, but Cobb continues, “If you feel bad about what happened back there, don’t. I won’t hear of it. You told me not to touch the laser sword and I still did. And I’d do it again if it meant saving your hide.”
He blanches, having wanted to keep that last part to his chest.
Mando, to his credit, doesn’t comment on it. He reaches down and unclips the hilt from his side and ignites it. Cobb can’t help but flinch back into the bed as it comes to life, humming in that eerie way as it did in the desert. It’s somehow more striking here, the glowing outline more obvious in the dim light of the room.
“It’s called a darksaber, Mando begins, “I won it on Moff Gideon’s ship by accident. It… it’s a symbol of authority and power for Mandalorians.”
“Oh, is that all?”
That gets him a huff of a laugh from Mando as he extinguishes the blade and slips it back on. A quiet descends into the room. Now, Cobb can handle silence and he can handle being still. He just can’t handle both at the same time.
“I hope Boba doesn’t charge me for room and board.”
“He was impressed, said you could stay here as long as needed.”
Oh. The knot of worry that had appeared out of nowhere unravels in Cobb’s chest. He’d been at least expecting a debt of some kind, hackles still raised even if he liked the man, the distrust of authority running deep.
“We’ll probably get called for more jobs after you’re healed, though.”
“That sounds like the opposite of a problem,” Cobb says with a smirk.
A sudden tiredness floats over him like a blanket and he closes his eyes for what feels like a second but could be any amount of time.
There’s a moment where he thinks Mando has left the room, before he registers the feeling of soft fingers on his hand. He cracks open an eye and sees Mando still sitting where he was, his gloves off as he runs his thumb over his knuckles, catching in scars and pocket marks Cobb had collected throughout the years.
Cobb shifts and Mando’s hand stills. Acting on instinct and ignoring the feeling that floods through him, he holds Mando’s hand as tightly as he dare with the bandage.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Mando says, voice quiet.
“I just woke up.”
Mando lets out a huff that might be considered a laugh. “You were only asleep for half an hour.”
“Alright, then you gotta go to bed too.”
“Cobb…”
“Mando…”
“It’s Din.”
He swallows down his feelings once more, not trusting himself in this drugged up state to say more. “Alright, Din, go to bed. You got roughed up too.”
“Alright,” his voice trails off but then he’s clearing his throat and saying, “Thank you. I- I haven’t had the chance to say that yet.”
This time, Cobb is able to keep the words close to his chest as he drifts back to sleep.
Anytime, partner.
17 notes · View notes
candychronicles · 5 years ago
Text
unrequited love, or not? // k. bakugou
Tumblr media
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this, and thank you for being so patient!
CHARACTER PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
WORD COUNT: 1,668
WARNINGS: mentions of being drunk, blood, mutual pining, dumb best friends
SYNOPSIS: you’ve been best friends since you could remember, but what if you wanted more?
the first day you met Bakugou Katsuki was on the first day of school, ever. you were bubbly, upbeat, someone who introduced yourself to everyone and made as many friends as possible. nothing could get you down, well, besides Bakugou. despite your best attempts, he was mean, sassy and definitely didn’t want to be your friend. for awhile, you resigned yourself to all your other friends, but the grumpy gremlin never left your brain.
over the following years, you slowly broke down the anger and superiority of his childhood, peeling back the layers to find a kid who wanted to save lives and be a hero, a kid who used his confidence to keep himself going against all odds. it wasn’t until your years at UA high that you really figured out who he was to you, but by then, things were too late, him being too focused on climbing to the top to even spare anything other than a friendly glance your way.
it wasn’t as if he ignored you. in some ways, that may have even been better, for you would’ve been able to push aside your feelings, but no, Bakugou was anything if not an attentive friend. he was one of the few people you trusted with your life, and vice versa. he came to you for everything, with everything, about everything, because you were his partner, his best friend. this closeness only complicated things, but you persevered, determined to be the greatest sidekick you could be to him.
your friendship wasn’t one that many people understood. while you were bright, extroverted, smiling brighter than the sun, moon and stars, he was grumpy, reserved, focused, but it worked. he called you annoying every day, and yet you two were inseparable, eating together, doing homework together, shopping, spending holidays together and taking selfies that, when you posted, he threatened to blow you up. 
you watched as he blew every challenge out of the water, both literally and figuratively. from every challenge that came in high school, all of the death and destruction that you two fought together, coming out on top despite the pain, and continuing to help save people as he became a sensationalized pro hero practically overnight.
despite his constant successes, he wasn’t the number one pro hero, and until he achieved, and consistently maintained, his biggest goal of his life, there would be no other priorities in his life. you slowly watched, year after year, as he worked tirelessly, throwing away other opportunities in order to continue to pursue his goal. it wasn’t until you confronted him casually one day that your worst suspicions were confirmed.
“Katsuki, why haven’t you ever dated someone?” you questioned not so innocently one day, waiting with baited breath to hear his answer.
“Becoming the number one pro-hero has and always will be my number one priority,” he replied casually, shrugging his shoulders and continuing on with eating like he didn’t just shatter your heart into a million shards.
little did you know, his heart was also breaking, threatening to rip his chest open from the inside, suffocating and strong. he liked you, loved you, for longer than he could remember, but he was sure you didn’t feel the same way. he thought that every lingering touch, every suffocating hug, every time you called him when you were sad and drowning in tears, begging him to make you feel better, was just you being a best friend, nothing less and nothing more.
you became a bit more distant after that, nursing your hemorrhaging heart, attempting to fix it back up, using any stitch or glue that you could find so that you wouldn’t bleed out. this need to not hurt led you to a very drunk night with Mina and Jirou. it started off innocent enough, but as the night drug on and the alcohol tickled your veins, your blood began to thin and pour out of your mangled heart, and the tears followed soon after.
“why did i have to fall for him? he doesn’t love me, he never will. i’ll have to sit back and watch him continue on with his life, blissfully u-unaware that there is someone here who loves him so much that it hurts. i’m so dumb, so so dumb,” you rambled on, liquid pain streaming down your face as you cuddled a bottle of wine.
the girls tried to console you as best as they could, snuggling deeply into you and rubbing your hair, wiping the tears off your face and assuring you that you were loved, before you promptly passed out, the bottle of booze replaced with a pillow that you clutched tightly to your chest, attempting, even in your sleep, to fix the ache in your heart.
you awoke with a pounding headache and a steely resolve to distance yourself from your best friend even more than you already were. while you knew it would hurt, nothing could compare to the emptiness you felt standing next to him knowing he didn’t feel the same way. texts were replied to hours later, calls missed, and you once even pretended you weren’t home when he stopped by randomly to check up on you.
Bakugou didn’t know what he did wrong, and it was eating him alive. he texted, he called, he even tried to break down your door, knowing you were home, but you still barely responded, claiming you were busy. never in your combined friendship had you went this long without talking, even when you were truly mad at each other. 
the lack of communication took a toll on Bakugou and he finally decided to confront Mina about it one day, despite not wanting to look desperate.
“why has she been avoiding me?” he asked the second she picked up the phone, not bothering to even say hi.
he heard a soft sigh on her end of the phone before she replied, “i’m not supposed to tell you.”
“bullshit. if she’s hurt, mentally or physically, she should be coming to me. i’m her fucking best friend.”
“and that’s the problem,” she replied cryptically.
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean? does she not want to be my friend anymore?”
“well, yes and no.”
he swore, at those four words, his heart stopped.
“if she doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore, then she needs to man up and tell me. i don’t have time to waste on cryptic shit. i’ve got more important things to do.”
“and that’s the problem!” she suddenly exploded, before replying more evenly, “all you care about is being the number one pro hero to even see what’s going on in front of your very eyes. someone cares about you very, very much, probably more than your shitty ass deserves, and you can’t even return those feelings because you can’t and won’t prioritize more than one thing in your life.”
Bakugou hung up on her after those words, immediately calling you, to no avail. he grabbed a jacket and some shoes and raced out of the door, heading towards your house with nerves of steel. 
how stupid could i be? does she really feel the same way? 
once he reached your house, he barged in, not even bothering to announce his presence as he headed towards the kitchen.
you appeared out of nowhere, alert and ready for anything, before relaxing your body, though there was still tension squaring your shoulders back. 
“what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, confusion and a little bit of anger tinging your voice.
“do you love me?”
you quirked your head at him, face heating up in embarrassment, not sure how to respond.
“are you ignoring me because you love me and you don’t think that i love you back? are you so dumb to think that if you confessed to me right now, that i would reject you?”
your mouth gaped open and closed, unsure of how to take his questions, so you nodded meekly back, before responding, “you told me that being the number one pro hero was your number one priority-”
“my number one priority right now, sure, but that doesn’t mean you’re also not one of my priorities in my life. sometimes you’re even my number one. i don’t spend all my time with you, tell you everything, help you with everything, just because you’re just one of my ‘friends’. you’re my other half, you idiot. will you go out with me?”
your head cocked side to side, mouth still open, attempting to process his words, all the information that he had just thrown at you like it was nothing. he liked you? he wanted to go out with you? 
“the question isn’t that hard. you also look like a fish. close your mouth and just tell me how you feel, how i know you feel now, so i can kiss your dumb face.”
at those teasing words, your face broke out in a smile before you rushed forward to capture his lips in your own, pouring all of that pent up pain and sadness into the kiss, allowing your heart to finally stitch together.
“you’re such an idiot. of course i like you, and of course i’ll date you. i’ve loved you for a long time, maybe even since you were a snotty nosed little brat, but not much has changed since then,” you teased, eyes twinkling in mischief.
“hey, just because you’re dating me doesn’t mean i still won’t kick your ass for being rude.”
“catch me if you can lover boy,” you called out, leaping away from him and into the kitchen laughing.
he shook his head, finally allowing himself a moment to breathe, feeling the heat rise into his cheeks and his blood pumping throughout his body, before he called out threateningly and began chasing after you around.
i’m in love with my best friend.
maybe being number one pro hero wasn’t the number one priority in his life anymore.
TAGS: @jojosmilktea​​ @redbeanteax​ @softforshigi​ @katsuki-bakugous-lady​ @katsukisprincess​ @secondhand-trash​
Want to be a part of my taglist? Message me!
312 notes · View notes
golbrocklovely · 5 years ago
Text
twisted // colby brock - chapter four
A/N: i’m excited for you all to read this chapter. things are starting to change and get a bit creepy for our lovely characters. hopefully you like this story and this chapter. please let me know what you think. i might be posting something else later today if i get the chance to write it. alrighty, see you guys later :)
description of the story
taglist: @absolute-randomness-forever , @far-to-many-bands
trigger warning: cursing
word count: 2130
LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I slowly stirred from my sleep, my body waking up before my mind. I can hear three loud knocks coming from my hotel door. I sat up, looking down at my pillow, realizing very quickly it was not a pillow.
It was Colby. Shirtless.
When did he take his shirt off?
The three knocks came again. I groaned softly, rubbing my eyes as I shimmied out of my bed. I stumbled over to my door, unlocking it and opening it somewhat widely.
“Good morning!” Smitty smiled brightly.
I shook my head, surprised. “Oh, hello. Good morning to you, Smitty.”
“I just wanted to let you know that breakfast has been made. Do you want me to go tell Sam and Co-” His voice cuts, his eyes staring behind me.
I cocked my head to the side, glancing over my shoulder quickly. Colby’s body had moved around on my bed, his naked back now turned to us.
I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as I turned back to Smitty. The embarrassment faded immediately by the look he was giving Colby. His face was cold, the smile he had once had was gone. Frown lines had settled into the corners of his mouth. His eyebrows were low, darkening his eyes.
“I-is everything alright?” I mumbled, barely being able to look at him.
He cleared his throat, suddenly his face relaxing. He still seemed upset, only masking it. “I’m fine. Tell your friends breakfast is ready. Deb is here too.”
He abruptly left, leaving me stunned.
What the fuck just happened?
I exhaled, not even noticing I was holding my breath in the first place. I quietly closed the door, locking it instantly.
I walked over to Colby’s sleeping figure. I got back into bed, my face close to his.
“Colby?” I whispered.
His nose twitched as he let out a sigh. A groan left his mouth, signaling he wasn’t asleep anymore.
“Breakfast is ready. I’m gonna go wake up Sam.” I spoke lowly.
His head moved slightly, sort of nodding. “…mykey… ison table.”
I smiled softly, looking over Colby to see his key on my nightstand. I got and grabbed it, leaving my room quickly and walking over to Sam’s.
I knocked, hearing no movement from inside. I slid the key in the hole and turned, opening the door and walking in.
Sam sat on their bed, headphones on. Most likely, he was editing. He turned his head to me, his eyebrows raising. “Hey Angel.”
“How are you already awake?” I chuckled, sitting down on the bed.
He shrugged. “I’m always the first one up. Colby usually sleeps in when we go places. Why are you awake?”
“Smitty knocked on my door and told me breakfast is ready. Apparently, Deb is here too.” I stated.
“Cool. I’ll be down in a minute. Just trying to finish up this last cut.” Sam replied, pointing to his laptop.
“Editing first thing in the morning?” I asked.
He nodded his head. “All in a day’s work.” I got up and started to leave. “Oh wait, Angel?”
As a reached the door, I opened it. I turned back to him. “Yeah?”
“Is Colby in your room?” He questioned.
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Did he sleep there last night?”
“Yes.”
“Did you two-”
“No, Sam. We didn’t fuck.”
“I was gonna say slept in the same bed. Where’s your head at?” He inquired, shaking his head.
I rolled my eyes and raised my middle finger up at him. He smirked and looked back at his laptop. “Hey Colby.”
I jutted around to find Colby standing next to me, rubbing his eyes with one hand while his other hand held his shirt. “Sup bro…”
“I’m gonna go get changed. Meet you guys at breakfast.” I said, looking down at the floor and leaving quickly.
~ /  / ~
Sam and Colby had decided to leave immediately after breakfast. They wanted to do one last XPLR trip before we left this town. Apparently there had been some abandon mall not too far from town that they wanted to see if they could get into.
I believed they just wanted to get out of here after the awkwardness that was breakfast.
Deb did most of the talking, Smitty only saying all of two words to any of us. He seemed cold towards all of us. I don’t understand why he would have been.
Maybe he just wants us to leave…
As I laid in my bed, I pulled out my camera. I realized I hadn’t filmed this whole trip and needed to make some content while the boys were out.
“Hey, what’s up you guys. Angel here. As you can tell I’m not in my apartment. I’m actually on an XPLR trip with Sam and Colby. We are up in Washington in a small town. And we’re staying at, get this, a haunted bed and breakfast. I think we have finally lost it.” I laughed.
I stood up from my bed, slowly walking around my room. “Let me give you a tour of my room. There’s this really pretty bay window, which I wished I had used more. A little vanity and a dresser. And a little chair in the corner. Now, the bed is pretty sick. It is so comfy and honestly makes me want to sleep all day.”
I jumped onto my bed, giggling as I did. “Oh, I also have this really cool ceiling fan.”
I pointed my camera up at the ceiling. As my camera focused I on it, a red dot flashed.
What is that?
The flashing dot was coming from inside a grate above the fan. I zoomed my camera in, trying to see what it was. I couldn’t tell.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what that is, but, let me go show you guys Sam and Colby’s room. You’re gonna get a kick out of it.”
I smiled at my camera and left my room. I pulled Colby’s key from my pocket and opened their door.
“Now this… is the lovers suite.” I smirked, turning the camera towards their room.
The walls were pink, and all the furnishing in the room was a dark, sexy red. They had a same set up as my room. The difference is they had their own personal bathroom; which was also red themed.
“This really does not help the Solby rumors.” I cackled.
I ran and jumped onto the heart-shaped bed. It was a lot firmer than mine, making me groan when I landed on it.
“Oh my God, how are you supposed to have sex on this if it feels like a futon?” I asked, rolling my eyes.
I glanced up at the ceiling fan, seeing the same vent as before. I slowly zoomed my camera in, seeing the flashing dot too.
“What… the fuck is that?” I mumbled.
I turned off my camera and stood up on the bed. The ceiling was low enough that I could stand on the bed and be somewhat closer to the vent. I stared into the vent, trying to focus on what the flashing dot could be.
Is that a c-?
Suddenly a loud crash ripped through the silent bed and breakfast. I pulled my eyes away from the vent and jumped off the bed, closing the door behind me and rushing downstairs. The noise sounded like it was in the kitchen.
White chipped glass from a broken plate were scattered all over the floor. Smitty stood on the other side of the kitchen, looking around at the floor.
“Be careful. I dropped a plate.” He stated, sighing.
“I can see. Where’s your broom at?” I asked.
He pointed behind me. I spun around to see the broom hanging on a hook. I grabbed it and started to sweep.
Smitty shook his head. “You don’t need to do that.”
I shrugged, still sweeping. “I don’t mind helping.”
“Oh… well thank you.” He paused, turning back to the dishes he was loading into the dishwasher. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you. How was the ghost hunting last night?”
I chuckled. “Um… it was interesting to say the least.”
“Did anything happen?” He inquired.
“We used the Ouija board, something talked back.” I replied.
“That’s spooky.”
“Yeah, and we heard a loud bang before you came in. Also, the spirit said goodbye to us before we got to say it.”
He smiled. “Unbelievable. That’s so crazy.”
I pulled the dust pan from the wall, placing it on the floor. “It was. Honestly, I don’t know if the fans are gonna believe us.”
“Who knows? Were you scared?” He questioned.
“Me? Petrified is the nicest term to use. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.” I picked up the dust pan and dumped the glass into the trashcan.
“What do you believe in, if you don’t mind me asking.” He stopped loading items into the dishwasher.
“I believe in God. When I’m at my most scared, I try to pray to Him. I think me and God have a good relationship, as weird as that might sound.” I responded, smiling lightly.
He turned to me, an indescribable gaze falling over his eyes. “I don’t think it’s weird at all. Do you believe in angels?”
“Yeah. I mean, I kinda have to with a name like Angel.” I smirked.
A pause fell over us as we stared at each other. I turned my back to him and placed the broom and dust pan back on their hooks. “Oh, I wanted to tell you again that your writing is really good.”
“Thank you, but I have to disagree. I wrote those so long ago, I don’t think they’re any good.” Smitty said bashfully.
“But they are. Seriously. I mean, if you really think they’re not good, you could always start from scratch or even just flush out the stories some more.” I explained.
“Did you finish the Angel and Demon one?” He leaned against the counter.
I nodded. “Yeah. Very eerie and kinda gory towards the end, but it was so cool overall.”
He smiled softly. “Well I’m happy to know someone enjoyed my writing.”
“I did recommend it to Sam and Colby to read before we leave.” I informed.
“Oh, since you brought them up, I have to ask. Does Colby know you like him?” His smile changed into a smirk.
“Um… I-I’m sorry?” I stuttered.
He laughed. “You don’t gotta be prude about it. I can see the way you look at him that you like him. It’s the same look other couples have given each other here. I have a lovers’ suite for a reason, you know.”
I mumbled. “I-I haven’t told Colby how I feel about him.”
“Why not?” Smitty cocked his head to the side.
I groaned quietly. “It’s complicated for a number of reasons.”
“Does he not like you back?” He crossed his arms lightly.
“Sam told me he does like me, but I don’t believe him.” I answered.
“Why’s that?” He stepped closer.
I furrow my brows, the air in the room getting hard to breathe. I rung my hands a couple times as I felt my face start to flush. I could feel myself step back.
He held his hands out in front of him, taking a step back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I know that might be a lot of information to give to a stranger. I apologize.”
“Uh, it’s okay. I’m just not good talking about my feelings if I’m honest.” I stammered.
He remarked, pointing at me. “Maybe it’s time you open up. You should say what you feel before it’s too late.”
“Maybe… maybe I’ll tell him when we get back to California.” I halfheartedly joked, leaning against the fridge.
“So on Tuesday?”
“Actually, we’re leaving tomorrow.”
His eyes widen. His voice dropped the cheery tone he once had. “Wait, that’s so soon.”
“Yeah. We all figured that we got everything we needed and don’t really need to stay until Tuesday.” I announced.
“But you guys haven’t explored a lot of the house.” Smitty noted.
“I mean, Sam and Colby said they have enough footage so I’m kinda just following them.” I stated, shrugging my shoulders.
“I thought you were a leader, not a follower.” He hissed, turning fully to me.
I stood straight up. “What’s that supposed mean?”
He sighed, annoyed. “It means nothing. I think I’m gonna go… go lay down. I’ve been up for a while.”
“Oh… okay.” I uttered.
He headed out of the kitchen, disappearing into the lobby and going down into the basement.
I shook my head, confused. I walked out of the kitchen and headed into the library, closing the door behind me.
<< CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 5 >>
90 notes · View notes
makeste · 6 years ago
Text
BnHA Chapter 115: Hard-Boiled Villain Antics
Previously on BnHA: The provisional license exam concluded. Everyone from class 1-A passed except Todoroki and Bakugou. The exam committee announced there would be a special training course for the ones who failed, and they would then receive their licenses as well. They want all the students who made it to phase two of the exam to ultimately succeed because with All Might gone, the world needs as many quality heroes as it can get. The U.A. kids said their farewells to the other schools and prepared to board the bus home. Deku inquired about the weird girl from Shiketsu Academy and was told she had already left, and that furthermore she’d been acting strange for the last few days. We then learned that the girl, Camie, had actually been Toga in disguise, and that she has a shapeshifting quirk which allows her to take on others’ appearances once she drinks their blood. Oh, and. Now she has Deku’s.
Today on BnHA: We take a break from our intrepid hero hatchlings to check in with Twice from the League of Villains. He stares broodingly out the window like a noir character, listens to the news talk shit about Endeavor, watches a group of Tarantino tribute villains rob a store, and gets a phone call from the villain broker Giran. We learn that the League has temporarily split up and are recruiting to expand their organization. We also learn that Twice has more than a few screws loose, the reason being that when he was younger he used his duplication quirk to clone himself, only to have the clones all murder each other one by one until he was the last one standing. If that isn’t fucked up enough for you, perhaps I can interest you in the new villain introduced in this chapter, who goes by “Overhaul” and has a penchant for dismembering peeps. Or perhaps you’re more a fan of the classic villain, in which case the chapter ends with All Might meeting up with our old friend All for One, so, you know. Enjoy that.
(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 151 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)
who the fuck is this
Tumblr media
he’s staring darkly out of his window and hating all the people he sees walking past
but also there’s a black speech bubble thinking the exact opposite. “I think it’s fantastic”
is this that Twice guy, maybe
Tumblr media
I was wondering what you were up to, yes. good catch there
“THIS MAN STARTS HIS MORNINGS A LITTLE MORE HARD-BOILED THAN MOST.” yes, the really hardcore way to start your day is to hate people from windows
holy shit this ominous fucking chapter! right from the get go!
Tumblr media
“unleashed.” and the text underneath: “a world where All Might is not coming”
I’m thinking it’s safe to say the villains are winding down from their little break
I’m so curious how Tomura is doing. prediction: still crazy
the narration is saying that the news networks and Internet are constantly buzzing with “idle chatter fanning the flames of anxiety”
jesus christ this is so similar to the real-world climate in the last few years. anxiety and fear-mongering
oh shit the newspeople are talking about Endeavor
Tumblr media
depends on whether you’re the type who can accept assholes who beat their wife and kid
(I personally am not)
they’re being really polite about it, but they’re saying that you can’t help but contrast him against All Might
he’s “coarse”
“he just looks like an ordinary person pretending to be a superhuman” I’ll take it a step further; he looks like an asshole not even trying particularly hard to pretend he’s a nice guy. and yeah, he’s strong, but not even in the same realm that All Might was
oh my god it’s a list of top “Moogle” searches for Endeavor. this is the most 2010s shit I’ve ever seen in a manga omggggg
Tumblr media
yeahhhh, public opinion is just not on this guy’s side. and good riddance
basically he’s become “the symbol of weakening heroes.” exactly. I feel like all these people must just be like, “is this really the best we can do now omg”
Tumblr media
is Endeavor Donald fucking Trump
Tumblr media
this is one of the best chapter openers I can recall reading in a long time. there’s something fascinating about watching a well-established fictional world get shaken up and seeing how the people of that world respond. it’s reminding me a little of the post-Goblet of Fire Harry Potter universe. and why do I have a feeling that by the time this series ends, we’ll have progressed all the way to Deathly Hallows in terms of grittiness
the narration is continuing and saying that just as All Might brought hope to everyday citizens, his presence was a curse to villains
and now that curse has been lifted, so “it’s no surprise at all that it’d turn out this way”
and it’s showing some guy robbing an ATM or something. not sure what he’s carrying, but anyways he’s busting through a wall looking happy and deranged
now a pro hero is showing up to stop him
but another villain is cracking the back of the hero’s head with a huge metal pipe
and two more villains are waiting over by their getaway truck
Tumblr media Tumblr media
nice Tarantino reference there. bold and unsubtle and in-your-face
and the narration is talking about how villains are feeling more emboldened and more free to run around without fear of consequence. and that the more daring they get, the more villains they inspire in turn, and it goes on and on. “running a red light isn’t scary if everyone does it with you”
we’re seeing the exact same thing happen irl nowadays with racists and nazis and the alt-right and such, aren’t we. my escapist manga is really starting to hit close to home here
now Twice is getting a call from someone
isn’t this the guy who introduced Toga and Dabi to Tomura
Tumblr media
damn, manga, you’re really going to make me go all the way back to like chapter sixty-something to check this. fine
yep, it is. chapter 68
he says that in the past two weeks there’s been a surge of black market requests for things like suits and related items
he says it’s all thanks to the League of Villains
really it’s thanks to one specific villain that did all the work and is now imprisoned though. just saying. though no doubt he won’t mind Tomura getting the credit
anyway so Twice is asking why the broker guy called him
probably cuz Toga got Deku’s blood, so now the gang is getting back together to hatch some more schemes
yep
Tumblr media
so Twice is like yeah of course I heard, and the broker dude is like okay catch you later then
Tumblr media
gotta say, I was already fond of Twice just as a funny and eccentric (you have no idea how much my brain struggled to find an adjective to use in place of “quirky” there, but needless to say I wouldn’t have been able to keep a straight face otherwise) character. but it’s pretty damn fascinating to witness his psyche on display now as well
apparently the League has been separated and scattered for a little while, both to lie low and to scout for more people to join the group
and now we’re cutting to Dabi and he’s just roasting some poor dudes alive
Tumblr media
damn son
oh shit what’s happening to Twice
Tumblr media Tumblr media
this guy is soooo weird
he says his quirk is “doubling.” “I make one into two”
okay. I don’t get it at all, but
-- WHOA
Tumblr media
IS THIS THE FUCKING PRESTIGE OR WHAT. AND WASN’T THIS ALSO A PLOTLINE IN FUCKING CALVIN AND HOBBES
he says each of the clones claimed to be the real one (by “real” I assume “original”) and they started arguing and eventually they all killed each other
and he’s not sure even now whether he’s actually the “real” him
holy shit I would read an entire book about this guy. I want David Fincher to direct a movie about him
it seems like he’s not even really that evil, it’s just that he’s so crazy that the league was the only place he could find that would accept him. “what I was searching for were others who are just as crazy as I am”
I would read a spinoff manga about Twice and his existential nightmare of an existence, trufax. this is so compelling I almost forgot about the fact that we’re thirteen pages into this chapter and so far it’s been all villains and no U.A. kids
-- what the fuck
Tumblr media
IS THAT THE GUY FROM EARLIER?? WHO ROBBED THE ATM???
(answer: yes, I just went back and looked)
WHY IS HIS FUCKING HEAD HERE?? IS THIS HIS QUIRK OR SOMETHING MORE HORRIFYING THAN THAT
Tumblr media
farewell Reservoir Dogs. you had a brief and uneventful run culminating in THE MOST HORRIFYINGLY GRUESOME SCENE I’VE EVER SEEN SHOUNEN JUMP ALLOW IN THEIR FUCKING MAGAZINE. NOT ONLY WAS IT INDEED HIS FUCKING HEAD, I COUNT LIKE SEVEN OF HIS AND HIS FRIENDS’ OTHER BODY PARTS MORBIDLY STREWN ABOUT AND ROASTING ON THIS OPEN FUCKING FLAME. dude what the fuck
Tumblr media
oh boy here we go
now his buddy in a raincoat -- and they all have the same plague doctor masks on btw -- is saying he took the money and let’s get out of here
he’s calling the “YOU GUYS HAVE AN ILLNESS” dude “Overhaul.” okay I’ll admit that’s a pretty badass villain name
and Twice is watching them all like, “oh. more maniacs”
so I’m guessing he’s going to recruit these guys lol
the narration says that both the heroes and villains’ sides have begun to undergo changes in appearance. well, we’ve seen a lot of the heroes’ side of things so far so I guess it’s nice to take a break from that and see what the villains have been up to
is this the prison??
Tumblr media
OH SHIT!!!!!
Tumblr media
WHAT IS HE DOING COMING OVER THERE TO TALK TO HIM OH MY GOD
“THE DISCUSSION WITH THE BIG BOSS IS ABOUT TO BEGIN” [FRANTICALLY CLICKS TO THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!]
-- except no, damn it, because I gotta check out the bonus page first :/
 bonus
...actually the bonus page is just Horikoshi being excited that there are now two spinoff series. apparently he’s a fan of Illegals. I do want to check that out (especially since he just said Eraserhead has a cameo in it omgggg), but like hell if you think I’m clicking away from this main story just yet. I still have 85 chapters to go and it’s not like things are exactly getting boring omg
44 notes · View notes
captainwhogotthecanary · 6 years ago
Text
ClexaCon: Day 1
Okay, Let me attempt to do something like organize my thoughts here. Photos will come later, ones that come at all; mostly there are professional photos, videos, and gifs available of the noteworthy moments, and I intend to reblog a lot of those later. In the meantime, my photos are on my phone, and the Tumblr app is eating anything I attempt to post with photos.
So. I’m going to try to do this chronologically because it’s how I tried to organize my brain, and I feel clearer than I have in a while. Panel titles or events in bold. Fandom and personal stuff is included, multishipping probably rampant because I just want my faves happy, alright???
Under the cut because long. Day 1 only because long, and because by time I got near the end of typing this, it was after midnight and I was getting less coherent.
Exploring Gender through Cosplay
As often as I cosplay, mine are fairly casual, and I’d never actually gotten a good chance to attend a cosplay panel of any sort with a clear mind. This was pretty awesome, all the different things you can do to change not only the costume but also your appearance, really make the cosplay work. A lot of the sentiment/message besides the practical application stuff was just “have fun, don’t be an ass, think about the character.” All good advice.
One of the panelists was visibly uncomfortable with his cosplay during the panel. It was understandable, but he looked great anyway and still gave great information and asides and personal experiences, and I’d love to see him do a panel where he’s more comfortable.
One Day at a Time
Okay, so one of the things I LOVE about this con and haven’t seen at the couple others I’ve been to is the intro videos. For each of the big panels, they’ve played a video beforehand, about the pairing or the character. If you’re rusty on the details, it’s a great refresher, and if you love the character or pairing, it’s just fantastic to watch. I believe they included these and the actress reactions in the official videos they’ve been posting. They’re great, super shippy, and I’ve teared up or cried at more than one.
ODAAT is one of the ones that made me teary, because it touched on Elena and her Papi and then how happy she and Syd are and just...
Emotions, y’all. I’ve got them.
Anyway, it was great. Isabella seemed pretty comfortable speaking, very aware of her presence and her platform. Sheridan was a little more like Syd, a little awkward and a lot geeky (like most of my favorite people, let’s be real). My takeaways from this panel were basically just that they both love Schnider and working with his actor, and that I ship Syd and Elena even harder now.
An executive producer got a call during the panel, and Isabella thought maybe it was about being picked up by a different network, but it ended up being Rita Moreno calling in, which was fantastic except how disappointed Isabella was. Not that she was unprofessional or pouty or anything, just there were a few moments of almost being able to FEEL how much this cast wants the show to keep going, and how much they love each other.
Avalance
Omg. I mean, okay, if you’re following me, you should probably go watch both Avalance and Nyssara panel videos. They’ll do a much better job of relaying anything factual than I will, so I’m mostly focusing on my reactions.
My reactions started with that damned intro vid, because holy hell, Sara and Ava are hot, and have awesome chemistry, and they’re both smart and strong and amazing and I am so, so, so not straight.
Uh. Where was I.
Highlights for me, in no particular order.
Okay, usually celebs look like people in real life, like real people or like their characters. Caity Lotz is MORE attractive in person than she is on tv. HOW THE FUCK IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE
Jes is kinda amazing as a person and actress and I intend to watch everything she’s in after this weekend. She cares deeply, which I know she shares with Ava, but unlike Ava who hides behind the professional shield, Jes just seemed so warm and real and disbelieving of how much people like her. She was having a very emotional day because she’d lost someone she cared about, and when she shared that, I doubt there was a dry eye in the room. The depth of her feeling was almost palpable.
Jes kept reaching out and touching Caity, who was much more physically reserved just in general. Caity is very obviously more familiar with the con circuit, which doesn’t mean she doesn’t care or anything! Just, how many of these could any living person do while still caring deeply and genuinely about every person they talk to? I suspect people have to distance themselves some eventually. Caity wasn’t cold, just more reserved.
Katrina interrupting was the best thing ever. It’s been giffed already. Go find it.
I loved hearing about the tango, about navigating a situation where there are two women who naturally want to take the lead. The lines blurred between where they were talking about themselves as actresses navigating a scene and their characters as people navigating a relationship, and it felt very real and lovely. Hilarious, too, because of course everyone in the Arrowverse (excuse me, Beeboverse) is gorgeous AND smart AND funny.
I’m glad they’re not really broken up I guess? The actresses seemed a little unsure because they filmed a lot of different takes with some differing implications, but they’re not on board with the “on again, off again” thing any more than I am, which is good. On is good.
End of the panel, people sitting behind us (oh! chronological order! I made a friend waiting in line for the ODAAT panel and we’ve mostly stuck together this weekend. She’s not LGBT and hasn’t watched any of the shows but she loves PEOPLE and is trying to learn and has had a lot of cool life experiences. Anyway. If I say “we” or “us” I probably mean me and friend, unless otherwise specified.)
Uh. Right. So. The people sitting behind us were like, “Hey, do you two want tickets to Cocktails for Change?” At first I thought she was trying to sell them, and I already knew I couldn’t afford that, just like I couldn’t afford the Caity/Jes/Katrina photo op I wanted (not complaint, just statement of fact! I got to go and I got to buy the photo op with Caity and I got a hotel room for a couple nights). Then she clarifies that she and her person (I’m gonna go with that when relationship isn’t clear. But oh, the number of happy wlw couples there was just amazing, and at some point I defaulted to assuming anyone there together was together, which wasn’t accurate, but it’s what I was seeing and delighting in and WE NEED MORE REPRESENTATION and omg keep a single train of thought, Kita). The two of them had bought two extra tickets they couldn’t use, couldn’t refund, and hadn’t been able to sell, so they were offering them to us so that somebody would enjoy them.
OMG. Like, who does that? What level of awesomeness to gift two separate $250 tickets to complete strangers??
I helped friend navigate the transfer process and helped her create an eventbrite account, and then we had the tickets, at which point I actually believe it was happening. And then AND THEN
Because clearly that wasn’t enough
they said “oh, we can’t make the trio photo op today, do you want it?”
Do
Do I
DO I
I still can’t believe they were for real, with that level of awesome. I checked like probably way too many times to make sure they were SURE because
yeah. Made my entire year, at minimum. 
Photo Ops
Got the photo op with Caity first. I’ll do pics separately after I scan them; they’re particularly glossy or something and my cell phone is doing a horrible job. So I go in dressed in my femme Snart cosplay, have enough presence of mind to ask (or point? I may have only managed pointing) to stand on her right side because I wanted to be able to hold the cold gun in my right hand.
“Hey, Cold,” she said to me.
HEY COLD
SHE RECOGNIZED WHO I WAS DRESSED AS OMGGGGGG
and did I mention fucking gorgeous beyond belief and amazing to boot? 
Anyway. She’s also smiling much bigger in my pic with just her than in the next one, when I didn’t have my gun, and I like to think it’s because she still thinks fondly of snart. Captain canary 4eva. Another thing on Saturday I’ll get to in my next post, equally small but equally “omg yessss she still ships it” to my mildly obsessed brain.
Obviously, after they took the pic, I walked blindly in the wrong direction and would’ve walked smack into the makeshift wall if the volunteers hadn’t steered me in the right direction. I don’t usually get star struck, but if it was going to happen, it was going to be with Caity Lotz, so it wasn’t actually a surprise.
Round two, trio photo, and I ended up between Caity and Katrina, who draped herself on my shoulder as she often does for pics. I’ll get to Katrina more for Day 2, but she just seemed very at ease, maybe the most comfortable person in any given room.
After photo ops I practically ran back to my car while still trying to recover, checked into and got settled into my hotel room, changed shoes (omg, as good as those boots are for a couple hours, after ten hours and two miles and lots of standing, my feet STILL hurt day+ later), and then headed back to the venue.
Cocktails for Change
So this was cool just to exist in a room with the celebrities (the theory behind the event and the price tag being you get to interact). We (friend and the people who gave us the tickets and a 5th potential friend we picked up while waiting in line) got to talk to an actress from Wynona (which I apparently badly need to watch. my to-watch list doubled this weekend), and then friend got Jes to agree to come over. That made me love Jes even more because her handlers kept trying to get her to go a different direction after she talked to one table for like half of the time, and Jes pointed at our table, strong and confident and I AM DOING THIS BECAUSE I SAID I WOULD.
I mean, idk what she actually said, but that was her not-subtle body language.
It had to be terribly frustrating for the handlers, who, even though they only got her to three tables total, did a better job with her than they did with most of the celebs. However, I wanted to applaud Jes.
Most of the celebs kept to themselves, or to their partners. Dot was like 5 feet from me for a good 20 minutes, and my inner gleek was ecstatic. Amber Benson was only a few feet farther for about the same amount of time. For her, I actually tried to go say hi, but she was absorbed in conversation with someone else and I didn’t want to interrupt. We made eye contact, though, so that was cool. Katrina, meanwhile, kinda starting circling and then was just like “Nah,” and she went and sprawled on a chair at the side of the room, again the most comfortable looking person there, and just let everyone come to her. Which, honestly, probably would be my recommendation if they change things for this event next year. Clearly, steering the talent to different tables isn’t working, so maybe steer the attendees instead.
Still, it was awesome, and I went back to my room and freaked out about OMG HOW IS MY LIFE THIS AWESOME before crashing hard.
Which I’m gonna do again now. Day 2 post tomorrowish.
4 notes · View notes
creativeashproductions · 8 years ago
Text
Aid // Jughead
Summary: Despite being Reggie’s cousin you’re bullied by Chuck and soon he takes it too far sending you to the hospital. Reggie only finds out when he sees Chuck slap you and shit goes down but someone else helps you. Someone who understands how Chuck is due to their own history of being bullied.
Characters: Reader x Jughead, Archie Andrews, Cousin!Reggie, and bully!Chuck
Words: 2606
Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters. Please read with caution.
Warnings: Swearing, physical abuse, bullying, and fighting
Author: Caitsy
A/N: So we haven’t been getting a lot of notes and I only recently found out that sometimes they don't work in the tags. For that I’m sorry! Also if you’re bullied please seek help because it’s not healthy and any rumour or threats is not worth you’re pain. Tell someone please.
Master List
Prompt List
ASK US A QUESTION LIST
Tumblr media
The books were slammed out of your hands with a force that left you following the textbooks on the onto the ground. You scurried back against your locked so you were out of peoples way and hurrying to pick up your textbooks with a deep frown. You already knew before you looked up who it would be.
“Freak.” Chuck’s voice announced with glee at your suffering.
The thing about Chuck Clayton was that he would torment you as long as Archie Andrews or your cousin Reggie Mantle weren’t in the area. Those two had grown protective over you even if they had began to split with Reggie’s jealously. With the threat that Chuck had uttered about spreading around how you slept with so many people you didn’t tell them.
“Please don’t.” You mumbled as you reached for one of the textbooks. He kicked the textbook further away and kicking your hand away too.
“Ow!” You cried out at the instant pain spreading through your wrist. You began to cry as the pain developed even more.
“Oops. Maybe you should tell the nurse that you were bumped causing you to smack a locker and fall.” Chuck smirked, “Or else there’s a little rumour I could spread around. Isn’t mommy and daddy breaking up and announcing they were cousins?”
“They are…ow!” You exclaimed as he nudged your aching arm.
“Are you okay?” Chuck asked crouching, “I didn’t see you there.”
You were confused until Reggie stopped beside him looking down in concern as you whimpered and sobbed. He glanced at Chuck before helping you up before gently taking your arm to look it over. With a simply glare you scrambled for an excuse.
“What happened?” Reggie asked.
“I was looking at the ground and bumped into Chuck by accident. His back was to my face so he wasn’t able to catch me in time.” The words were bitter on your tongue.
“Why did you scream out again?”
“He tripped over my arm.” You mumbled struggling to pick up everything.
“Do you want help to the nurse?” Chuck asked with disgustingly fake concern.
“I got it.” Archie appeared right by him carrying the textbook that Chuck had kicked away. Both Reggie and Archie helped you up forgetting the rivalry that developed between them.
Archie carried your books along with his while Reggie helped you from being bumped by anyone in the hall. You saw Archie’s best friend cautiously watching the strange view of Reggie helping someone. You nodded towards the beanie wearing boy.
Once in the nurses office he took one glance at the wrist before calling out to his volunteer to call the hospital. They were sending you for an x-ray from the amount of pain and lack of mobility in your arm. Reggie volunteered to take you since you were family.
“Thanks Archie.” Reggie mumbled pulling Archie into that universal bro hug.
“Never a problem.
“Came you tell me how this happened?” The doctor questioned looking over your wrist with gently fingers.
“I bumped into student, fell into a lock and slammed onto the ground.” You answered avoiding the doctors concerned eyes.
“Miss Y/L/N…I can’t treat you as well as I could if I don’t know the truth.” He calmly said leaning back on his stool.
“That’s what happened.” You replied ignoring the gaze of your cousin from the corner of the room.
“You see this bruise?” He said pointing to the already dark bruise. Reggie came closer in confusion, “That’s in an small oval shape caused by a shoe…an athletic shoe by the looks of it. You can tell by the little patterns. The force of hitting a locker and the ground would cause larger bruising and more than likely a sprain.”
“But-”
“The force of the kick would cause significant damage in the form of a fracture or shattering of the wrist. I’ll need to know or I’m going to have to call social services. I’ll call them because we don’t know if you got this from your family.”
“It wasn’t my parents.” You mumbled, “Can I talk to you alone?”
“I’ll go get a water.” Reggie muttered not wanting to cause a scene. Once he was gone you finally looked at the doctor.
“Was it your cousin.”
“No. It was a guy on the football team.” You mumbled picking at a loose thread on your jeans. You were scared that it would get back to Chuck somehow and you would get shit for that.
“Can you tell me more?” The doctor questioned filling out the x-ray form.
“No.” You mumbled accepting the form handed to you.
“Well if it happens again you should let the school know because I don’t want to see you even more hurt than right now.” The doctor explained, “Now there will be signs to where the lab is but you go to the left out of the room and keep going.”
“Okay thank you.” You mumbled keeping your wrist tight to your chest.
You followed the directions of the doctor leading to finding your cousin leaning against the vending machine with a water and a pretty girl in front of him. It was typical for Reggie to begin flirting with someone even at the worst of times but you knew he would stop if you needed help. He was the kind of cousin that was pretty much your protective older brother.
“Reggie, I’m getting my x-ray.” You said, “Isn’t he such a caring cousin? He puts others in front of him when in need!”
The girl grinned up at Reggie before digging in her purse for a piece of paper and a pen before scrawling her name and number on the sheet of paper. You smiled knowing that while it was wrong to help Reggie possibly lead someone on it wouldn’t hurt to see if it would work out.
“I’ll text you later. I have to help her.” Reggie smiled at the girl before turning towards you and whispered, “Thank you.”
“Just don’t break her heart okay?” You asked as the two of you went down to the waiting area. Both Reggie and you leaned back in your seats expecting the long ass wait as usual.
Time was spent being idiots to each other and Reggie trying to dig into what exactly happened to cause your pain. You weren’t stupid to notice what he was doing and while you appreciated the concern you didn’t want anything to cause you more pain. Besides you could put up with it and you could see the irony if your bully of a cousin stood up to another bully for you.
“Y/N Y/L/N?” A lab tech announced looking down at the form in her hand, “Come with me.”
You followed her into the x-ray room where she placed a gown in your hand and pointed to the bathroom. When you came back you were holding the gown up because you couldn’t tie it with your fucked up arm. She helped tie it up before she situated you in the right place with the protective padding on you.
“Okay! Hold still and we’ll done in a quick moment.” The tech smiled before going to the booth. You spent the small time laying there thinking of how your life had been going. You got pretty deep when you were getting small radiation in your body.
“Okay! Once they are developed you’re doctor will call you back into the room and explain. I really hope its not too bad.” The nurse smiled, “Have a nice day and tell that asshole who hurt you off.”
“I f-“
“Honey…I can see the truth…the doctor too much of a pussy to bring it up.” The nurse waved her hand, “I grew up in a bad home and I was bullied. I can see it in your eyes, and body. It gets better but only when you tell someone.” You blinked at the kind nurse as she ushered you into the bathroom to get dressed after kindly helping you out of the gown. She squeezed your shoulder before scurrying back to her post. You were shocked and grateful she saw through your shit and called you out.
“Ready to go?” Reggie asked when you were beside him.
“Um…I have to wait for the doctor.”
Shit hit the fan when you got home to see your mother and father sitting the couch in the position that concerned and pissed parents have. You sighed when your father silently pointed to the chair across from the couch where they were sitting.
“Firstly what the fuck is that?” Dad hissed pointing to the black cast on your arm.
“John!” You mother snapped, “Don’t swea-“
“Jane I don’t fucking care. My daughter, my baby came from the hospital with a fucking cast and she says she fell? I call bullshit.” Dad furiously said to her.
Dad was the single most protective person in the family for many reasons stemming from the loss of their oldest child at birth. He hated seeing his wife broken and didn’t want that to happen again and he would die before you got hurt.
“Dad…” You trailed off, “I did fall.”
“No.” Mom said glaring at you, “While I don’t like this swearing I agree with your father.”
You argued with your parents feeling only slightly guilty when they gave up on trying to get the truth out of you. All they did was passive aggressively made supper and silently ate at the table with angry chewing a loud silence. Once the dishes were away you were in your room before they could say anything.
The doors of the school caused anxiety to elevate in your body as you realized more tormenting would be happening. Chuck was entirely wrong about your family but he was freakishly popular and everyone would believe him. You didn’t see the darkly dressed boy curiously watching as you scratched under the cast on your arm.
Jughead wasn’t too sure how you got it but he had a feeling it traced back to the jock with a small brain that competed with the toothpick between his legs. Everyone knew that Chuck was an asshole specifically to you but it more often that not verbally. Jughead never stepped in because he had never witnessed it happen.
The bell rang making you entire the hell where you would race to each class to avoid your bully. You didn’t want to deal with the abuse that followed Chuck and his tag alongs nor did you want to deal with the suspicious eyes of your cousin.
“Y/N?” Chuck asked. You stiffened ignoring the male, “Trash.”
Getting no reply he pulled you close before getting in your face not caring of the populated hall because he did not get ignored. He was the fucking celebrity of the school and he wanted respect both on and off the field.
“Listen to me bitch.” He hissed, “Answer me!”
His hand swung back and it was only when you looked up from the floor did you feel the hard slap that once more has you on the ground. You head had slammed the ground but your cheek felt like the skin had been burnt off by the pain.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
You blanked on the situation disorientated from the pain and shock of the situation. Your vision cleared when you noticed a hand on your shoulder and a figure bent down. Two actually, one with red hair and another with black and some kind of hat.
“Y/N can you hear me?” The muddled voice asked.
“What?” You asked easing up against your lockers watching as Reggie got in the face of your bully.
“What the fuck man?” Reggie demanded, “Why the-”
“Oh shut up Mantle. Like you haven’t wanted to smac-“ Chuck was cut off when his own blood hit the ground. Reggie was seething as he swung his fist again.
The sheer amount of fury Reggie had was frightening as he pummeled Chuck into the ground. You had never seen your cousin like this before but you were in shock when no one on the football team could get him off. Archie was accidentally punched in the fray when he joined.
“Hey. Look at me.” The soothing voice of the boy said from your side, “Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”
“Two?” You asked looking at his fingers, “Who are you?”
“Jughead.” He muttered, “How many now?”
“Five?”
“Shit. Okay look straight at me okay?” Jughead asked watching as you blinked slightly confused. He carefully looked at each pupil before sighing, “I think you may have a concussion.”
You hummed turning back to see that Reggie was struggling to get back to beating Chuck up before relaxing when a deputy handcuffed him. You gasped as your cousin was tugged away and a stretcher was taking away Chuck along with his father.
“Let’s go to the hospital okay?” Jughead said squeezing your hand tightly as he helped you up.
The entire way was a confusing mess even when you were settled into a room for evaluation with Jughead sitting beside you. Hours passed before the doctor was in the room with you along with your concerned parents.
“How long?” Dad asked.
“Months.” You mumbled, “He was going to spread rumours and I didn’t want t-“
“I don’t care.” Mom fumed, “Thank you Jughead for helping our daughter.”
“No problem.” Jughead shrugged.
He was settled on a chair beside you as the doctor handed over some instructions to care for you as the mild concussion was diagnosed. There wasn’t much they could do other than telling you to keep an eye out for you while looking out for any worsening symptoms. It greatly pissed off your dad who was seething from his chair.
“Just check in one her frequently please.” The doctor said, “I don’t want to see her in here for the third time in a week.”
“You go it.”
You were surprised when Jughead gripped your hand as you walked out of the hospital because you knew from the short period of time knowing him he hated it. He flashed a smile before squeezing your hand tightly pulling you closer to him.
Over the course of the school week you stayed home only getting your homework done when Jughead collected work. He informed you of what you had missed in the week you had been gone when you showed up at school. You were glued to his side when you saw a still bruised Chuck being led down the hall with some football players and Weatherbee with him.
“Football team had a book keeping score of who slept with who and how many points they got. He’s suspended and kicked off the team along with them.” Jughead explained pulling his bad higher, “Reggie’s back today also. He got suspended. Rumour went around that he was going be expelled until strings were pulled.”
“He shouldn’t have done that.” You said looking up at Jughead.
“Chuck had it coming.” The voice of Archie joined. You gasped seeing the dark bruise still around his eye, “You alright?”
“I have a little headache but I’m fine. Thank you Archie for protecting me even with the problems you have with Reggie.”
“Nobody deserved that. Get better.” Archie smiled, “Hey Jug.”
“Archie.” Jughead half smiled as he grabbed your hand and dragging you off, “Y/N can I take you out for a burger tonight?”
“I’d like that.” You smiled blushing as Jughead inconspicuously kissed your cheek.
Forever Tag List: Ask us to be tagged or removed!
@cityofsobbingfangirls @tas898 @barbidollash @trustnobodyshootfirst @winchesterfanfiction @deanwinchesterisamazing @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @padackles2010 @msimpala67 @deangirl5509 @heyitssilverwolf @therealme13posts @petlaufeyson @professionally-crazed @winterhurricane @tearsandbloodofmyenemies @blackwidow-romanoff @crazybarnes @marvelofcourse @takemetothefictionalworld @destiel67bellarke @ohmy-sammy @fightinthepain @vivabucky @waituntilthedustsettles @daydreaming1393 @cumonbucky @inhumans-of-shield @basicwhiskeyprincesss @soulfull-ofevans @spookass @glitterintheairblog @girl-with-wild-dreams @frickin-bats @darkestgrungeuniverse @shamvictoria11 @buckyappreciationsociety @sammysgirl1997 @fly-f0rever @archer-whovian-violinist @jenn0755 @anamarieswift2194 @unicornofdanger @ifyoudie @jealousbitxh @stormin-thru-glitter @sparklyaura @stilescstilinski @curlyxtomato 
Riverdale Taglist
@n0average @ateliefloresdaprimavera @sgarrett49 @jarchiee @casismyguardianangel @supernovares @juggie-sprouse @an-enigmatic-avenger @leah-khaleesi @rax-writes @shameless-danni @rapunzxl @peetapansneverland @peetapansneverland @sebby-staan @katshrev
391 notes · View notes
unanimous-gay-pause · 8 years ago
Text
Written In the Skin
Welcome everyone to the second story posted today on this wonderous Writing Wednesday. This is a much more lighthearted thing than the poem, and in fact is a Soulmate AU! It’s all an original story, with original characters (thank you @solving-crimes-in-time-and-space for talking me out of those names and beta reading again), and is a lot of cute and fluffy stuff. Yes, it is gay. I know. I’m a piece of gay shit. Sue me.
Also this story is six whole pages long like holy shit.
Anyway, please enjoy the story! And I’ll see all of you in two weeks!
Arabella knew how the soulmate thing worked. Your soulmate writes anything they want on some part of their skin, and you could see it on your own. Arabella thought it was a really special thing, but she knew that sometimes people never found their soulmates. She knew when she was 5 years old and asked her mom why she never wrote special messages to her dad.
“The words don’t show up, sweetheart,” her mom had responded.
It worried Arabella greatly that some people never found their soulmate, and she vowed to find them one day and have the dark words show up on her extremely pale and freckled skin.
It was Arabella’s 10th birthday, and she knew that sometime around her 10th birthday she may start to receive messages from her soulmate. It didn’t matter much that her parents fought a lot more lately, or that nobody except her friend Gerald showed up to her birthday. It didn’t even matter that all she had asked for for her birthday was a book on mythology and some toy cars and all she got was a disgustingly pink dress and a coloring book. Arabella was just excited that she may finally know what her soulmate’s handwriting looked like!
“Arabella!” Gerald said, standing by her door. “Your mom said that we’re cutting your cake soon.”
“Okay! I’m coming!” Arabella put up her dress in the closet, by the other disgustingly bright dresses that she never wanted to wear. Her coloring book was placed on her bookshelf, next to the other 5 coloring books and the Barbie doll from her last birthday. She sighed as she looked at her books. Maybe next year she’ll get to read about the Greek gods.
As Arabella was about to leave the room, she spotted a pen next to her hairbrush on her desk. Biting her lip, she debated on possibly trying to say hi to her soulmate. Sometimes it didn’t work on the person’s birthday. Arabella picked up the pen, looked at it, and decided to give it a shot.
She uncapped the pen and pressed it to her skin. What to even write? How did you even start a conversation with your soulmate? She decided to start off simple.
“Hi,” she wrote, and she watched the words disappear into her skin. This was normal, ink marks never seem to stay on a person’s skin for long. As Arabella looked at her arm though, she started to get disheartened.
“I guess it won’t happen today,” she thought, but placed the pen in her pocket just in case. As her parents (and Gerald) gathered around the table to watch her blow out the candles on the cake, she felt a small burning sensation on her arm. When everyone was talking and eating cake (and her mom was complaining about her red unkempt hair again), Arabella looked at her arm, her heart stopping for a second as she saw what was on it.
“Hello.”
When Arabella was 12 years old, she started only responding to A and her mom left for good after a loud argument with her dad. A spent the whole time in her room, huddled under her blanket, and she grabbed the pen on her bedside table. Uncapping it, she pressed the tip to her skin.
“Herc. You there?” she wrote, hoping that even though it was midnight here in Scotland, Hercules wouldn’t be too busy to talk to her from New York.
“What’s up A?” the message appeared on her skin, making her sigh in relief. Sometimes Herc wasn’t able to respond around 7, but only because he did chores after dinner and babysat his baby brother if his parents went out..
“Mom walked out. The only thing I could make out was she was mad at Dad for some reason,” she replied, looking at her door. Sometimes after loud arguments, her dad would knock and come in to make sure she was alright.
“Oh. That’s awful,” was the only thing she got back in return. Herc wasn’t much for words sometimes, and he didn’t know how to handle parents fighting. According to him, his parents were already best friends before they knew they were soulmates.
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s coming back either. Can you cheer me up somehow?” A asked, watching the words disappear into her skin. She put the pen between her teeth, chewing a bit at the end. It was a nervous tick that she had developed ever since she started to talk to Herc. She felt the familiar burning sensation on her arm that she had long since gotten used to.
“How about a story? I’ll tell you about Osiris and Isis that my cousin told me about,” Herc had written. A had to smile at this. Herc’s cousin knew so much about mythology, and even gave Herc a book about the real Hercules. Mythology always made both her and Herc happy.
“Sure,” she wrote back, placing her pen on her desk. She knew that he would be writing for a while. She looked back at her arm as the first words started to appear.
“Osiris ruled over the Egyptian kingdom, and his brother Set was very unhappy about this…”
When A was 17, she cut her red hair short, which caused a fight between her and her dad. A also started to realize that she was uncomfortable around everyone, including Herc. When she tried to figure out why, she realized it had something to do with her appearance and what people called her.
“Hey Herc,” she wrote, sitting on a bench in the park. Ever since Mom had left, Dad was never really around. She knew Mom leaving hit him hard, especially because Dad never had a soulmate. Three years ago, Mom finalized the divorce and married another women named Helen, her soulmate a year after that. But Dad could never get over losing his best friend, and became very hard to live with. So A spent as much time as she could outside of the house.
“A? What’s up?” Herc replied, the words scrawled across her skin. She no longer noticed the burning sensation anymore, and now it just interested her how his handwriting loops.
“I don’t know. I feel weird,” A wrote back, and immediately got a response.
“Explain,” it read.
A looked around, trying to figure out how to phrase this. “It’s like… I dunno, I just don’t feel right in my own skin?” she wrote back.
“Like, how?” Herc wrote back, his Ls looping a little.
“Like, I know that this is the body I was born with. But it just doesn’t feel right? Like, it feels like it has the wrong parts. It’s missing something, but I’m just not sure what. Does this make sense?” A wrote back. She got an instant reply almost immediately.
“Dude... You’re trans,” the words read. Of course, A had no idea what that meant.
“Trans?” A wrote back. “What the fuck is that?”
“Transgender. My buddy Hari? The one I told you about, the Indian dude? They’re trans too, only they’re genderfluid. Some days they feels male, some days female, some days neither, and some days both. But it sou-” It cut off there, and A realized Herc had run out of space. She waited a few seconds to let Herc finish his writing.
“-nds like you’re just female to male transgender,” he finished. A was stunned at this revelation. Transgender?
“No, I mean, I’ve been female my whole life. I mean, sure I don’t like to wear dresses, and I like my hair short, and I get really frustrated when people call me Arabella. That doesn’t mean anything though… right?” A wrote back. But as A thought about the word, she seemed to grow fonder of it.
“A. Trust me on this, you’re transgender. You’ve never liked doing anything feminine, you’ve even told me that you don’t like makeup or dresses or being compared to your mom. You told me you don’t feel like you fit in with the other girls at school either. You’ve always been more masculine than feminine as far as I know,” A read. The last words were a little cramped together at the end so everything could fit on A’s arm.
“I know Herc. But maybe you’re wrong, what if I’m just seriously depressed? I mean, if I’m transgender, that means that you probably-” A stopped writing, her pen making a small line as she lifted it up off her skin. The bad thing about this soulmate writing is that once it’s been written, there’s no way to get the words back. Maybe if she just quit writing for a bit, then Herc would change the topic.
No such luck. “Probably what A?” Herc wrote back after 3 long minutes. A groaned on the inside, hoping that Herc would just leave it alone. Of course, this was Hercules, and he cared too much about A to let things slide. She sighed, and placed the pen back to her skin.
“You probably won’t love me as much, right? If I’m transgender, that means you’re gay, right? You told me once that you only liked girls,” A slowly wrote, watching the words dissolve into her skin. A was surprised at how quickly Herc wrote back.
“I don’t like girls A, I like you. I love you. It doesn’t matter if you’re a girl or a boy or any gender at all. I’ll still love you, even if you decide that you’re more of a boy than you are a girl. You’ve been my best friend for years now, and I’ll always be closer to you than anyone else in the world.”
As A read the dark, looping letters on her skin, she felt tears prick her eyes. It took her a while to gain control of her emotions again before placing the pen back on her arm.
“I love you too Hercules. Forever and always,” she wrote back, adding a tiny heart to the end of the sentence.
It surprised her to see a small, lopsided heart appear back on her arm, along with another question. “So what would you like me to do A?” she read.
“Can… can you possibly just start using he/him pronouns around me? Just to see if it makes me feel better?” A wrote back, her hand shaking a little. She looked up to see a butterfly land on the bench next to her, and as she tore her eyes away from the creature, she noticed Herc’s handwriting again.
“Of course I can.”
When A was 18, he started going by Alastair. He also had to decide on where he was going to college, and decided go to Juilliard in New York. His dad wanted him to go to a college in Scotland, but Alastair wanted to go through their playwrights program. He also wanted to be closer to Hercules, who was going to Columbia University for engineering.
Of course, Alastair was completely nervous on the plane ride over there. He and Herc had never met in person before, and all of a sudden they were going to be very close to each other. There was also the matter of Alastair not starting his transition from female to male that much, other than buying new clothes and working out more. He was also worried about what Herc might think about him, what the college was going to think about him, how his college classes were going to go, how-
Black, looping words scrawled on his arm caught his attention. “Breathe Alastair. It’s going to be alright,” the words read.
Alastair smirked at the words. “How did you know I was freaking out?” he wrote back, but he also took deep breaths to calm down as well. Herc’s words showed up on his arm again.
“Because I know you, and you haven’t written in a whole hour. It’s been nonstop writing since yesterday Alastair,” Herc replied. Alastair rolled his eyes, but he knew Herc was right. He was just so nervous to finally meet his soulmate.
“At least the plane finally landed. That’s one less thing to worry about,” Alastair wrote back. He ran his hand through his short red hair. Thankfully his hair was easy enough to style, once he figured out HOW to style it. Alastair noticed people standing up to get off the plane, and he stood up to reach his carry-on bag above him. He noticed the words on his arm, again from Herc.
“Yeah, that’s true. Go get your bags, I’ll see you outside the gate. Look for the big sign,” the words read. Alastair rolled his eyes a bit at this.
“I’m sure there’s several big signs, but I’ll see you soon. I love you,” he wrote back. He watched the words disappear on his skin, being sent to his soulmate.
“I love you too,” appeared on his skin, making Alastair smile even more.
American airports were the worst, especially this one. It was unnecessarily crowded, and one old lady accidentally grabbed his suitcase. After finally getting his three bags from the baggage claim, he followed the crowd out of the gate and looked for Herc. As Alastair looked, he finally found the sign. But as soon as he saw it, he stopped in his tracks.
The sign was big, yes. It was also rainbow colored, and read “Welcome home Alastair” in big black letters. The man holding that sign made Alastair’s heart stop at the sight of him.
He could only be Hercules, and Hercules he was. He definitely worked out if his muscles were a sign. His black hair, in dreadlocks and pulled back in a ponytail, was long, halfway down Herc’s back. A dark red beanie on his head made his hair look even better. His dark skin was flawless in Alastair’s eyes, but what really caught his eye was the huge smile Herc gave when he finally saw Alastair. Alastair rushed over as quickly as he could, trying to pull the three bags as quickly as possible behind him. When he finally got to Herc’s side, he simply stopped and looked at the other man.
Herc lowered the sign and stared back at Alastair, his grin never subsiding. In fact, it seemed to only grow as Alastair continued to stare. “Herc’s eyes are brown, chocolate brown,” he decided. After a few seconds of looking, Hercules started to laugh, a sound that Alastair decided he was determined to hear 24/7.
“Welcome home Alastair,” he said, his voice deep, and that was all Alastair needed to hear before he dropped his bags and gave Hercules the biggest hug that he had ever given in his life. Alastair felt Hercules’s arms wrap around him and engulf him in what could only be described as a bear hug. Apparently Herc was at least a foot taller than Alastair.
When Alastair finally looked up at Herc, his heart started pounding so hard in his chest he was scared it would just pop right out. Alastair noticed that Herc was lowering his face down to his own, but seemed to be hovering above Alastair’s, almost like he was holding back. It took a few seconds for Alastair to realize why, but when he finally did, Alastair smirked and pushed himself up to his toes, closing the gap between their lips.
As their first kiss deepened, Alastair decided Herc was right. Everything would be alright.
3 notes · View notes
salty-dracon · 5 years ago
Text
ace hang plays temtem
I MISS HOP... | Temtem Early Access! Part 1 | Ace Hang Plays
Temtem is a Pokemon-like monster collector MMO that’s full of adorable creatures that fight in double battles. It’s tons of fun! Except for Max. Max is a meanie. :( ~Arthur
(Max’s Oree knocks out Arthur’s Smazee in one hit)
Arthur: Oh my god, fuck you!
Val: You can say fuck?!
Val: Hey everyone, Ace Hang here! I’m Val!
Arthur: And I’m Arthur! And we’re playing TemTem! It’s this newly released but heavily touted Pokemon-like monster collector MMO that’s received lots of praise from all over the net. From its cute designs to its beautiful world, and the excitement of just having a Pokemon RPG, it’s a game worth checking out.
Val: Arthur just would not stop talking about this. He sent me a picture of, uh... (Val fiddles on his phone) this... platypus lookin’ thing, and it’s, like... (Val holds out his phone, which has a picture of Platypet on it) Look at how cute this thing is!
Arthur: I know, right?
Val: And dang, the trailer? Man, it’s like, beautiful! Basically, I’m hyped. Let’s do this!
-------
(Opening of the game. Arthur’s character looks like himself, as he’s controlling the game.)
Val: What the fuck?! Is that our mom?!
Arthur: Oh god, she looks like she’s going to overfeed me.
Val: It’s our Apprentice’s Eve.
Arthur: Yes, it is. Cool. Okay, looks like we’ve got a Tempedia. “The quintessential device every trainer should have. The Tempedia records crucial info on every Temtem seen and caught. Yours is a present from Aina.”
Val: Sweet. Thanks, Mom.
Arthur: Alright, let’s head outside. Oh, yay! Everyone’s here to see us off!
Val: Aww, they pitched in to give us money for school! That’s so sweet of them!
Arthur: “Oh, that’s lovely! Thank you so much dear neighbors! But where is your friend Max?”
Val: He’s probably the Hop of this game.
Arthur: Oh, Hop! I loved Hop.
Val: He’s seriously one of my favorite rivals. Like, he’s a shit trainer, but he’s just such a good guy deep down. I just...
Arthur: Just, he was... a bro, you know?
Val: Guy’d always work his hardest to uplift you no matter what. I just... I just appreciated that so much. Like, you two played off each other, you worked hard for each other to help us reach our dreams...
Arthur: I hope Hop joins us for the DLC. I want to see more of him.
Val: Anyway, I’ll voice Max, and- oh god, I hate him already.
Arthur: He just showed up!
Val: “Someone calling? Oh, hey, Arthur. Did you know it’s my Apprentice’s Eve too?“
Arthur: And I guess that’s Professor Konstantinos- he’s just the professor. “Don’t worry, my dear Aina, I’ll drop these kids off at the Accademia before going to the University.“
Val: “Cool, can we go with you?“
Arthur: “You’re too young for college, kid. But, maybe one day. What about you, Arthur?“ Well, I certainly would like to go to college.
Val: “Arthur isn’t that good at handling Temtem. But that’s okay, don’t worry, Arthur. You can just stay here and take care of Aina.“
Arthur: “Hey-“ “Alright, let’s go to the lab, kiddos.“
Val: Why the fuck did he say that?
-------------------
Arthur: Anyway, the lab is right here... and those are our starters over there.
Val: Oh, cool. Looks like a grass type, a water type, and a fire type. I think.
Arthur: Wrong, actually. Crystal, melee, mental.
Val: Oh, that’s interesting.
Arthur: I’ll see if we can get a better description. “You’ve already learned the basics of Temtem. These are from all over the Archipelago.”
Val: “Hey, Teach, do you have any digital Temtem?“ Digital?
Arthur: It’s a type, like water, fire, and nature.
Val: Oh, sweet, there’s robots?!
Arthur: “Digital Temtem are a very recent invention and therefore very rare.“
Val: “Ha! I have one!“ Okay, now you’re just showing off, buddy.
Arthur: It’s kind of cute, though. “But since you’ve got one, we’ll let Arthur pick the one he wants.”
Val: “What? Why does Arthur get to choose and I don’t?!“ Because you have a fucking robot Temtem, Max. A fucking robot Temtem. Also you’re a dick.
Arthur: “Shut up, kid. Arthur, take your pick.“
Val: Okay, so the one on the left is crystal type. “Crystle”. One in the middle is “Smazee”, melee- did he say he won it in a pub brawl?
Arthur: Professors have weird lives.
Val: Okay. And the one on the right is Houchic, a mental type.
Arthur: I personally want the one in the middle. It just looks cute.
Val: Smazee? Hey, it’s probably a good choice.
Arthur: It’s a little fuzzy monkey lion thing!
Val: Yeah, it’s the cutest one. Okay, let’s roll, then.
Arthur: Okay, let’s head out now. Oh, hey, Max.
Val: “Arthur, the teacher’s pet... you think you’re better than me, don’t you?“ Oh, I’m sorry, dickhead, you have a fucking ROBOT TEMTEM and I DON’T.
Arthur: This Smazee is my baby now and if you hurt him I’ll kill everyone in this room and then myself.
Val: “Fite me, bitch.“ Okay, sure, asshole. What are you gonna do? I’m the protagonist, and I’m gonna beat your ass.
Arthur: Maybe then you’ll learn to respect me.
Val: Wh-Why are they even our friend?! All they’ve done is tell us we’re too weak and dumb for this shit, call us a teacher’s pet, throw a hissy fit when we get a Temtem like some kind of entitled kid... Like what the fuck, dude! Where’s Hop’s wholesomeness?!
Arthur: Opponent is Max. Time for a battle tutorial. So, looks like you select “battle”, select a move, and attack. Let’s hit them with a “Kick”...
Val: Fuck them up! Kick their ass!
Arthur: You’ll regret saying I should have just stayed with my mum, Max...
(Smazee does meager damage. Oree one-shots Smazee.)
Arthur: ...
Val: ...
Arthur: Oh my god, fuck you!
Val: You can say fuck?!
Arthur: You have the audacity to come to me for a battle, burn my fucking Smazee, like some pissing dog, and then say “Hooray, my first victory!” as if you didn’t pick the fucking fight yourself?!
Val: You can say fuck?!
Arthur: I HATE him! I HATE them and their fucking Oree!
Val: The Oree didn’t do anything wrong! Maybe it just crit!
Arthur: There are no crits in this fucking game!
Val: Are you fucking serious?! Oh my god, fuck you, Max.
Arthur: Ugh. Such a prick. Anyway, “That Digital Temtem really gave you an edge there, Max.“
Val: “Didn’t you say it was the tamer and not the Temtem that made all the difference?“
Arthur: Oh, piss off. “Sorry, Arthur, but there’s no way you could have won against them.“ Ugh. And he heals up Smazee a bit... and gives us...?
Val: It’s a birdie! Oh my god, that SQUEAK.
Arthur: A Tuwai. And it’s quite rare, and has some mysterious powers. I’ll take good care of him too!
Val: “What? Why don’t I get one of those?!” Because you have a fucking DIGITAL TEMTEM, you dick!
Arthur: Alright, and now, the journey begins! (Smazee is following the Avatar) Oh MY GOD IT’S FOLLOWING ME! OH MY GOD IT’S FOLLOWING ME! OH MY GOD THAT’S SO CUTE. (turns character around to face the Smazee walking behind him, it does a little chirrup) Oh, you’re so cute. We’re going to take names together, you and I. Oh my god, I love you.
Val: I can see you already love him.
Arthur: Yes. Yes I do.
-----------
Arthur: And we’re here at Brical de Mar.
Val: “Hey, what took you so long?” We have a full team now, dickhead. Tateru, Paharo, Pigipec...
Arthur: And I guess this is Sophia. Looks like she runs the dojo, which is basically the gym.
Val: Looks like a water type gym leader. And now she’s taking us on a tour.
(post tour)
Arthur: Aww, that was a nice tour!
Val: Okay, who’s better? Nessa or Sophia? Like, appearance, personality wise?
Arthur: You’re asking me?!
Val: A lot of people seemed to like Nessa, that’s all.
Arthur: I mean... I... really have no clue.
Val: Yeah, me neither. Okay, let’s roll. “See you in the dojo, loser.“ Watch me beat the final boss, dickhead.
0 notes