#i welcome advice or thoughts but reserve the right to ignore it if it makes me more confused lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

builtbybrokenbells · 10 months

Text

Gold Dust Woman | iv

Driven to the brink of insanity, y/n turns to her best friend for advice in her time of need. A Sunday brunch paired with day drinking leads to a world of new information she hopes will help her to better understand the new world she is caught up in.

Read part three here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: sexting, sort of phone sex I guess, dirty talk, name calling (ish?), pet names, touch of praise, teasing, drinking, swearing, gossip (is that a warning? idk anymore guys), mentions of cheating, but nothing super heavy for this chapter! sorry if i miss any!

in my hungover state I present you with this! I’ve been waiting to write this chapter literally since I’ve started this. it’s super important to the plot and I think clears up a lot of stuff!! plus it’s a good little summary of everything leading up to this chapter. also id just like to say a super sincere thank you for the love i have received on this series. it was a big step out of my comfort zone and i was really worried that it wouldn’t be enjoyed, but you guys are so kind and supportive. i <3 you all. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

The tiny diner was overcrowded for its size, but still as welcoming as ever. Cheer and comfortability radiated through the air from the minute you stepped inside, never failing to brighten spirits. The small booth in the very back corner was routinely reserved for you and Danny on your Sunday outings. Brunch, always, but it was normally followed by some sort of wholesome activity to fill the afternoon. Then again, it didn’t matter what you were doing; time spent with Danny was always wholesome, and quite fulfilling. His friendship was one of your most prized possessions, mostly because you never really experienced anything like it before him. The conversation was never dull, radiating a type of safety that made you feel like you could tell him anything. Jokes were always well timed, advice was free-flowing, and a gesture of comfort was routinely available if needed.

Sundays were your favourite day, because you got the opportunity to spend time with him. Sometimes, the other boys would join, but that was rare. Even if they opted not to, you were fine with that, because you knew that the booth in the very back would always be reserved for two. That day was no different; you picked Danny up from his apartment at the usual time, and you both showed each other new music discoveries from the prior week. After the high stress of the weekend, you were happy to return to some type of normalcy, even if your regret for your careless decisions were constantly looming over you. When you arrived at the diner, the familiarity of the scene wrapped you up in a warm hug.

When you settled in to the seat, you placed your purse beside you and your phone face down on the table. The morning had started in a strange way, still leaving you frazzled hours later. After yesterdays activities, you had woken up tangled in the bed sheets and wrapped around Jake Kiszka. You never thought you would find yourself in such a state, but the reality of it was all too overwhelming to ignore. Although it wasn’t a bad start to the day, you were still aching with residual stress from the entirety of the situation. When he woke, too, the feeling seemed to wash away. There was a few hours where things seemed perfectly right, instead of troublesome; laughing and kissing your way through the earliest hours of your day, cooking breakfast and sharing cups of coffee along with stolen glances and smiles. It was beautiful in its own twisted way, making you genuinely believe you could spend the rest of your life doing just that. Once he’d left you on your lonesome, the guilt creeped back in like a disease, eating away at every part of you and taking you for its own. It had yet to satiate, even with Danny in front of you and a promise of a good day.

“You look terrible.” He stated, taking a sip out of the coffee mug the waitress had quickly delivered. Your eyes snapped up to him, shocked at the blunt statement.

“Thanks?” You furrowed your eyebrows, a small laugh stuck in your throat.

“No, not like that.” He corrected, placing his menu on the table. There was no need for it; you both had tried the entirety of the menu the restaurant offered, settling on your favourites long ago. “You always look pretty. I mean, you look like you just saw a ghost.” He was right, you couldn’t deny it. The bags under your eyes were darker than ever, skin pale and eyes distant. You were a mess, definitely looking like yourself but a mostly just a shell of it. It didn’t take a detective to figure that out.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, unsure of how to respond to his statement. “Guess I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He shot back, his gaze unwavering. You shifted under the stare, feeling like he had already picked up on your predicament. You hated that about him; he always seemed to know there was something on your mind, even if you exhausted every way to hide it. It was just a Danny thing, and you had picked up on that long ago. He cared too much, noticed too much. Secrets didn’t exist around him, and perhaps that was why you were so excited for this particular outing, subconsciously hoping you might be able to get at least something off your chest.

“I don’t know if there’s enough time in the day.” You grumbled, taking a long sip of water from your cup. “I wouldn’t want to make your ears bleed.”

“I’ll strike you a deal.” He offered, causing you to look up at him. “Bottomless mimosas on me, and a shoulder to cry on.” You eyed him, nervous to agree but comforted at the thought of speaking your mind. “What’s said at brunch stays at brunch. I’ll drive home.” His invitation was very tempting. As much as you felt like you should keep the turmoil to yourself, the idea of advice or even just to confess your mistakes was overwhelmingly alluring. After a moment, you decided you would have to say something, even just an elusive idea to get some kind of answer to your internal debate.

“Deal, but it stays between us.” You finally said, realizing that if you didn’t speak your troubles aloud, they would eat you alive. Besides, there was nobody in the world that you trusted more than Danny. You knew you could probably confess murder and he would only ask how to help. “But my lips are sealed until those mimosa’s get here.” You smiled.

When the waitress came to check in and take orders, you both settled on a meal and Danny was sure not to forget your drinks. As you waited for her return, you struggled to arrange the thoughts in your brain. You had no idea how to explain the situation to him, or even where to begin. You were scared he would think differently of you, even though deep down, you knew he wouldn’t. The whole thing was sick and twisted, and you were so on edge that you thought you might combust. The last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship with Danny because of your inability to understand your own feelings. When the champagne flute was finally in front of you, your stomach churned with unease. You looked up to meet his eyes, but found he was already waiting in anticipation.

“So, what’s going on?” Before answering, you grabbed the glass and made quick work at finishing the liquid in one go. You figured you’d need the courage to tell this story.

“Remember that lesson we were talking about?” You asked, checking the flute to make sure you didn’t miss any alcohol before setting it back down.

“Vaguely,” he smirked “but I don’t think you ever told me exactly what it was.”

“Yeah, because I still have no idea what the fuck it is.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I made a really big mess of things, and I have no idea how to fix it.”

“Okay, don’t panic. We can work through it together.” Your heart warmed at his words, feeling a little better just at the thought of his input. Even if he were to tell you that you were an idiot, you knew you deserved it. There had never been a time where advice from Danny hadn’t helped, even if it was only for a moment. And, although you hated to admit it, he was almost always right. “What kind of mess?”

“A big one.” You said, unable to find a better way to describe it. “I guess I probably have to go way back to the start for anything to make sense.” You sighed, placing your head in your hands. Your plan for keeping your feelings quiet had crumbled long ago; if you were going to tell him anything, you would have to explain it all. “The lesson was Sam. I’ve been in love with him for months.”

“Mhm,” Danny nodded, pausing his response as the waitress walked over to replace your drink. Once she was out of earshot, he spoke. “I had an idea.”

“Was it that obvious?” He quickly averted his eyes, not wanting you to see his face as he reacted to your question. You could tell he was trying not to laugh, finding your inquiry quite funny. “Oh, god.” You groaned.

“No, not exactly obvious.” He lied. You let out a groan, embarrassed that everybody seemed to know about your crush. “I don’t think he did, though. He’s pretty oblivious.” He comforted you, the second part of his statement much more genuine. “Why is that such a big deal?” You audibly laughed at his comment, realizing that he had no idea the extent of the problem.

“He never gave me any idea he liked me back. Flirted with girls at my house, acted like I was just another one of the guys. I never really felt like I meant anything more to him.” You explained. “And I was too much of a coward to say anything. Thought it was better if I kept everything a secret. I didn’t want to risk losing you guys as friends. I like you all too much.”

“We like you too, y/n.” He smiled, finding your worry silly. He knew that whatever happened, he still wanted to be your friend. You were his solace away from the chaos of his band mates, and to him, it was the best thing in the whole world. You gave him a soft smile, taking a moment to sip at your drink again. “No matter what, you’re always going to be my Sunday brunch date.” He assured you. You let out a long breath, now preparing to get into the deepest part of the conversation.

“So that night, after you and I talked, I figured that I had to snap out of it. I spent every weekend watching him, hoping he would make a move, or even give me some sort of hint that he acknowledged I existed in any way other than a friend. I was tired of waiting. I wanted to have fun, so I asked you to play beer pong.” He hummed an agreement, letting you know he was following. “And I partnered with Jake.” And what a grave mistake, that was. “I was drunk, and at first it was friendly, no different than usual. Then he started looking and talking to me different. It wasn’t bad, obviously, but he was very clearly flirting.” You paused, noticing the small smile he was fighting back. You tried to ignore it, not liking the way he was looking at you. “I was really drunk, and it felt really nice to be noticed. I shouldn’t have entertained it, but I did. I played along with him, thinking it was harmless. The game ended, we went out separate ways, and I figured that was the end of it. It should have been the end of it.”

“It wasn’t, though, was it?” You shook your head at his words. The conversation was stopped by plates of food in front of you and another replacement for your empty mimosa. You took a break from the grievous topic to have a bite to eat before continuing. After a few moments, you answered.

“Nope,” you sighed, popping the p to accentuate the impact. “We talked for a little while longer, then I went to the bathroom. Heard someone playing my guitar in my room, so of course I had to check.” You cursed yourself for not knowing better. “There he was, playing so well that it draws you in without a second thought, looking as pretty as ever.” He got a laugh out of your statement, never hearing two compliments sound so much like insults. “I joined him and we talked for a while, completely normal stuff.”

“You guys hooked up?”

“Ah!” You snapped, pressing your finger to your lips, silently telling him to keep his voice down. He let out a hearty laugh at your dramatics, knowing that nobody in the vicinity gave a single care about what you were talking about.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess!” You said, exasperated at the thought of recalling that moment aloud, especially to someone so close with Jake. You took another long drink, hoping the alcohol would calm your nerves. “I went to bed, and I didn’t know what to think. Part of me was thrilled, but a bigger one never wanted to do it again. I felt so guilty, almost like I cheated on Sam even though he had no idea I liked him. How stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid, y/n. I think it’s pretty normal, actually.” He shrugged. “We live in our own head, and when we like someone so much, especially for a long time, it kind of starts to feel real. I think you feeling guilty is actually more normal than not caring. Means you really do like him, and it’s not just a surface level thing.” The confirmation was nice, but also made you feel even worse. You felt as though you shouldn’t be allowed to have feelings for Sam anymore, especially after how you spent your morning. “I take it that’s not the end?” He chuckled, picking up on your sullen expression.

“No,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands again. “I wish it was, but no.” He reached over, looping his fingers around your wrist and gently pulling your hand away from your face. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, noticing his smile.

“It’s okay. What’s said at brunch stays at brunch.” He promised. You gave a slight nod, letting your hand fall into his. He rested them on the table, giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

“When I woke up and only saw you three in the living room, I kind of thought he regretted it, too. Figured he sobered up and… yeah.” You laughed, not feeling a need to get into your insecurities. “I was nervous, still feeling pretty guilty, but we were all hungover so I just blamed it on that. Things felt normal for a minute, when we were all just sitting and falling asleep. Then he came back. From the minute I saw him, I knew he didn’t regret any of it. He gave me my coffee. My coffee, exactly how I order it. He remembered, and I don’t even think I’ve ever told him.” You mumbled, feeling a blush rise at the memory. “We ended up going to the basement, and nothing happened, really. We kissed and talked, and we kind of agreed he would stay after everyone left.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.” He reassured you. You narrowed your stare, causing him to back down instantly.

“Aside from the feelings thing, no.” You admitted, feeling bad for giving him such a harsh look. “While we were playing songs, everything felt fine. It was fun, I wasn’t nervous or worried about anything, and I thought that maybe things would be fine. I know Jake isn’t the bad guy; he’s not someone I wouldn’t want to fall in love with. I think I’d like it, actually, if the situation were that simple. He’s always been kind to me, he’s funny, he remembers things about me that nobody bothers to. He cares about the little things. He pays attention.”

“And Sam doesn’t.” He affirmed. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“He never has. I feel like I wasted months loving someone who didn’t give a shit whether I was around or not.” Danny looked like he wanted to protest, but bit his tongue instead. It was your time to vent, and he wanted you to say what you needed without interruption. “I went to the kitchen to get more coffee, more comfortable with everything. I thought maybe if Jake and I spent enough time together, the feelings for Sam would just be… obsolete. I’m sure it would have worked, too. But, he just had to follow me.”

“Sam?” You nodded, giving him a bit of clarity. You were so worked up that you were rushing yourself through the story.

“Yeah, we just chatted for a minute, both drank our coffee like normal friends. Then he tried to hold my hand! And then tried to hint around that he liked me, too!”

“He did not,” Danny sat back in the booth, letting his head slump against the seat, internally cringing at his best friends terrible timing.

“Sure did! The whole confession was pretty funny, actually. Not to me, but definitely to someone! It was like god was sitting up in the sky laughing at me while it happened.”

“He’s so stupid.” Danny groaned, clearly exasperated himself. Danny was so unapologetic about his secret love of girl talk, and it made you incredibly happy. He really was your best friend in every sense of the word.

“Yeah, and I was a little pissed off! It made me feel like I was only worth loving when he was afraid he couldn’t have me. We argued for a few minutes, and he basically pried the confession about Jake out of me so he could use it for his own personal agenda! Then, he got this grand idea that he’d make it into a competition between him and and his brother to see who can win me over.” Danny gave a wince at the thought, already aware of Sam’s thought process before you even said it aloud. “I told him it was a bad idea, and I meant it. It is a terrible idea.” You clarified before telling him any more. After a few moments of silence, his eyes were urging you to continue. “We kissed.” You sighed. He let out another laugh, like what you had said was a joke rather than something you deeply regretted. His hand squeezed yours once more, another gesture of comfort. “What’s so funny?”

“No, no. You tell your story, I’ll talk later.” He assured you. With an air of discomfort, you accepted the deal, deciding to purge yourself of the last bit of the story so you could get it over with.

“It was fantastic. Something I’d been waiting forever to do. It almost felt wrong because it felt so right. So I planned on ending things with Jake. It was the right thing to do; I know if Sam had kissed me even a day sooner, there would have been no problem or conflict. I would have been over the moon.” Danny gave a hum, understanding what you meant, but not certain he agreed with it. Still, he held his thoughts back until you were finished. “You guys came in, and Sam left. Jake was still in the living room, because I told him to stay after everybody went home. I went in to talk to him, fully prepared to end things, but when I saw him, it was like it disappeared. He’s just so… captivating. Like, when I’m around him, he’s the only thing that exists.”

“Yeah, he does have a pretty big personality. Hard to ignore. He’s quiet, but I think that’s part of the charm.”

“Yep, because everything that comes out of his mouth is perfectly thought out.” You snipped, angry at the thought of his perfection. “He started talking, and he knew Sam and I had done something in the kitchen. I didn’t even have to say anything to him. There was a lot of back and fourth, kind of unimportant. I don’t even think I could explain it, anyway. But, he basically said that they both had feelings for me and they decided that they should both have a fair shot at winning me over. Isn’t that fucked up? That they decided that on their own, and didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what I thought! Anyway, whatever. Doesn’t matter now, I guess. He said some cryptic shit and I told him to leave, but it was mostly just because I was pissed off. I don’t think I really wanted him to go. Like I said, it doesn’t matter, because he stayed the night, last night. He left before I came to pick you up.” You sat back in your seat, defeated still, even after talking through the whole thing. The words being spoken into the universe only seemed to make you feel worse about the predicament. The only hope you had left was that Danny would have some sort of miracle advice to help you out, but you didn’t want to keep your hopes too high. “I think Jake’s been feeling the same way about me as I feel about Sam.”

“Okay.” Danny said, showing you that he was sufficiently aware of your predicament. “My turn?”

“Please.” You urged, finishing the last of your drink. You barely had the glass back on the table before the waitress was there to replace it. You were starting to feel the buzz of the liquor, realizing that you were genuinely getting day-drunk just to forget about your own mistakes. You were at an all time low, you decided. Your usual attitude towards relationships had continually assured you protected yourself, never letting anyone get to close, and never falling for anybody too hard. It was lonely, but loneliness was much preferred to how you were feeling in that moment. Now, in addition to a broken heart and a guilty conscience, you were scared you were going to lose the only true friends you ever had.

“I’ve known Jake and Sam for a long time. It’s a blessing and a curse. I love them to death, they’re family. Fun to be around, great friends, all that mushy shit. But, after so many years, you pick up on the bad stuff, too.” You were intrigued, now. As the fourth glass of the heartache remedy slid down your throat, you felt yourself leaning in closer to the table, not expecting a response like such. You thought Danny would call you on your bullshit, tell you that you were an idiot. You prepared yourself for that, still, because the conversation wasn’t over. It was still a possibility, but you certainly didn’t think his advice would lead in with the Kiszka’s baggage.

“You mean to tell me they’re not perfect? That god didn’t hand craft them and put them on earth just to make the rest of us feel bad?” He had another hearty laugh, finding your tipsy smile hilarious. Your ability to joke even through your turmoil was heartwarming.

“Seems that way sometimes, but no. At least I don’t think so.” He reassured you. “Jake and Sam are a lot more alike than everyone thinks, and not just physically. Sometimes, they’re more alike than Jake and Josh, which is incredibly hard to do. I mean, they’re brothers, so it’s expected, I guess. I didn’t notice it when we were in high school, but Jake wasn’t around as often. Once we all graduated, we started making music and spending a lot of time together. I think that’s when I realized how similar they were.”

“Mhm,” you agreed, wholeheartedly believing him. The two were strikingly similar in lots of ways, despite a few blatant things that offset their shared traits. You could even tell through their touch, or the small interactions that left you guessing if they previously conspired what they were going to say to you, or if it was just their Kiszka nature.

“Their taste in girls has always been one of those things. Over the years, girlfriends or flings caught interest in the other brother, or vice versa, and it was always a bit messy. It seemed like if you fell for one of them, you’d eventually fall for both of them. Or if one of them fell for you, the other would, too. It’s really fucked up, actually.” He gave a little chuckle, trying his best to explain the observation. “They caught on to it pretty soon, and fought over it once or twice, but it never seemed to cause an issue between them. They’d be mad for a few days, then they would move on like it never happened. I don’t know if they accepted it, or if they just didn’t care. Personally, I couldn’t do what they do. It would drive me crazy.” He added, clearly letting on that whatever he was leading in to was common, very deeply rooted and still pressing. You could see in his eyes that the idea was unsettling to him. “For a year or so, whichever way it went, the other just admitted defeat and moved on.”

“Oh, wow.” You breathed, trying to wrap your head around his words. It felt like you were learning deep lore about them that you weren’t supposed to know.

“I wouldn’t be telling you all this if I felt like I shouldn’t be, but it seems like they’re back to their old ways. Trust me when I say it’s much harder on you than it is on them.” You nodded, agreeing with the statement. The whole twisted relationship had given you nothing but turmoil since it had begun, and you were desperate for insight on how to fix it. To them, it just seemed like another day’s work. “Our first real tour, Sam fell super hard for a girl we met at a bar one night. Like, I mean head over heels, stars in his eyes, the whole nine yards. He got her number, and they were in love before we even left the bar. They ended up getting together, and things were really great between them. She even came along with us for a few weeks. They were happy for a while, but then Sam let tour life get to him, I think. He fucked up, hooked up with a random girl and threw the whole thing in the garbage. It was absolutely his fault, and I’ll never defend him over it, but he was young and had no idea how to handle the fame, even if we weren’t that big back then. He seemed to cling to every bit of attention he got. I know he regretted it as soon as he realized what he did, but obviously it was too late. I don’t blame her for leaving.” He shrugged. You were watching intently, immersed in every word.

“Now, I don’t know for certain what happened. Nobody talks about it anymore, and we never really did back then, either. It’s in the past, and everybody wants to keep it that way. But, that girl ended up in Jake’s bed after the big blowout. I don’t know if she initiated it, or he instigated, but it didn’t really matter, anyway. Sam found out and went insane, and he wasn’t interested in knowing who started it. They fought, like really fought, fists and all. We thought that would be the end of the band; they didn’t speak to each other for weeks. Rehearsals and concerts were constantly tense. The girl wasn’t even in the picture, anymore, Sam just felt betrayed and Jake didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong. Before, I don’t think he was ever really in love with anybody, so it didn’t matter as much. But that time, Sam reached his breaking point.”

“Holy shit,” you didn’t care about anything else happening around you. The story was captivating; both boys were very closed off, never giving too much away about themselves. They’d always answer questions if asked, but you never really heard much about the past, especially relationships. You were realizing why, now. “Poor Sam.”

“I guess.” Danny shrugged. “In that situation, yeah, but he’s not innocent. After they made up, he never let it go. He wanted to get back at him, and he did. Ever since then, Jake never had a chance to have a relationship. The minute he showed interest in someone, Sam was already trying to win her over. At first, I think it was just a coincidence. They’re similar, they like the same type of girls, obviously that can cause some issues. After that, it was different. Clearly intentional and meant to be hurtful. I stopped feeling sorry for them a long time ago. They know what they’re doing, and neither of them want to be the bigger person and apologize. Over the years, it’s just grown into a big mess.”

“So that’s why they’re doing this?”

“Yeah.” He felt no need to lie. “They’ve always been competitive. It’s a brother thing. Sam more than Jake, really. I think it’s because he’s younger, maybe feels inadequate sometimes. But to be competitive over girls with real feelings… I don’t like it. After so long, they learned to take the loss and move on. Better luck next time, to them. They mope around for a few days and then they’re back to best friends like nothing ever happened. The girls always end up getting hurt in the end, and that’s the fucked up part. They can hurt their own feelings as much as they want, but I don’t think it’s right to do it to anyone else.”

“That’s why Jake knew what happened in the kitchen. And Sam was so certain he was going to win me over. They’re masters at the game.” The whole wicked, devil-like persona’s were making more sense, now. Every move was thought out, meticulously planned and executed with grace. They’ve been playing this game far longer than you’d even been a part of it, and you were curious if they even had real feelings at all, or if it was just a part of the spiteful process.

“Masters, I’m not sure about. Cocky and annoying, absolutely. I don’t care what they have against each other. They have to settle that between themselves, not bring anyone else into it. All of us consider you a friend. A best friend. What they’re doing hurts everyone, but clearly it’s been hurting you the most.” You finished your drink, looking around for the waitress to get another refill. You were in information overload, more questions and worries filling your head with every second that passed. He picked up on the nervous energy, giving your hand another small squeeze to bring you back to reality.

“Do you think they even care about me, or is it just to piss each other off?” His eyes widened, realizing how easily you could have interpreted that from his story.

“No, y/n, not like that. I can’t speak for certainty on everything, but I am pretty sure Jake’s head over heels for you. He always perks up when we talk about you, and he’s the first one ready when we’re going to your place. Most of the time, he’s begging us to hurry up. I can see it in his eyes. We all see it, and I think that’s why I got so excited when I saw you guys flirting on Friday. Hoped that he’d finally get the courage to make a move.”

“Okay,” you whispered, scared to ask anything about the other boy, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

“Sam likes you, too. He told me himself, and not just yesterday, either. I’m not picking a side, or trying to get you to choose. Just telling you what I think you need to know so you can stop beating yourself up.” He explained. “I don’t know why Sam didn’t speak up, sooner. I told him you liked him, gave him encouragement, but he never said anything. He acted like he was oblivious, but he knew. Everyone knows you have feelings for Sam. I love you, but it was obvious.” Your cheeks turned rosy, embarrassed at your own inability to hide your emotions. “I think they both really like you, and they were scared of the same thing. They didn’t want the other to steal you away, but they fell into routine again and they’re doing exactly what they wanted to avoid. When Sam saw you with Jake, It probably lit a old fire in him, which is why it all happened so fast.” As much as you wanted the knowledge to give you reassurance, it only made the dread grow even larger.

“I don’t know what to do, Danny.” You sighed, closing your eyes to ward off the stress headache. You retracted your hand from his, missing the comfort of the hold almost immediately. You brought your fingers to your temples and gently massaged the area, satiating the ache slightly. “I never should have started anything with Jake. I had feelings for Sam. It was selfish, and I know that.”

“I think you had feelings for him, too. Maybe you just didn’t realize it.” He offered. “It’s not like you to start something like that without any reason. Plus, like I said, if you like one of them… history tends to repeat itself.” He said, keeping the truth light.

“If I didn’t, I sure do now.” You let out a humourless laugh, pushing the food around on your plate with your fork. “I feel like I maybe put Sam on a pedestal because I had such a big crush on him. I always thought I was in love with him, but I was never with him. I didn’t know anything beyond the surface, never experienced anything more than friendship. Not even an idea. Now, I’ve been with Jake. I know him, and I feel like maybe what I felt for Sam was just infatuation.”

“Could have been.” He shrugged, unable to answer that one for you.

“But when I’m around him, both of them, actually, they have this pull, like the earth is forcing me into their arms. It’s impossible to think clearly with them around, and I think maybe I just have to take a step back to figure it out.”

“Good luck with that.” He joked, eyes drifting to your phone on the table. “Your phone’s been going off all day, and I’m pretty sure I have an idea who it is.” You couldn’t deny anything, mostly because you knew he was right. Intermittently, another vibration would sound, and you knew if you picked it up, it would be one of the brothers you were trying so hard to ignore. “I don’t care if you ignore them, as long as I still get to see you. Wouldn’t give up our brunch dates for the world.” He sent a playful wink your way.

“Let’s just run away, get married and have mimosa’s for the rest of our lives on a cute little porch while we watch the sunset.” You grinned. “Don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirked. “If I get involved in this, I’m definitely winning.” You both shared a fit of giggles, happy to ease the tension with light jokes. “But seriously, if that’s what you want to do, do it. I know how hard on the head they can be normally, so I can’t imagine what it’s like being in your position.” He sympathized. “It’s not fair to you. I think maybe that’s why Jake tried to be so secretive about it, he wanted to make the move and start something before Sam could get involved. But, it’s like some weird brother thing; they can always tell.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like I ignored too many lessons, and the universe is super mad at me right now.” You sighed, your attention grabbed by the waitress dropping another drink off. You mumbled a small thank you before she disappeared again. “I like them both, but I don’t want to hurt either of them. I don’t want to get hurt. The whole thing is fucked up.”

“May I offer my opinion?” He asked, mischief laced in his tone. You gave a nod, figuring that anything would help at this point. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt them nearly as bad as you think.” He assured you. “Yeah, obviously, however this goes, someone is bound to be disappointed, but they’ve been playing this game for years. If you like both of them, play the game with them.”

“Encourage it?” You were in disbelief that he would even suggest it.

“Yep.” He confirmed, no hesitation in his voice. “Listen, they started this whole thing. They think it’s okay to play with your feelings, so play with theirs, instead. Maybe teach them a lesson.” He explained. “Don’t let them run things. You’re in control here, even if you don’t think you are. Have fun with them, and hopefully they’ll see what they’re doing is wrong.”

“You’re evil, Daniel.” You contemplated the idea while finishing your final mimosa, feeling positively tipsy.

“No, just think it’s time they got some karma. They have to learn eventually, they can’t do this for the rest of their lives.” He said, throwing his cutlery and napkins on his plate. “As long as you think you can do it without hurting your own feelings.”

“I’m so pissed off at them that I don’t even care about that.” You chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. The statement was completely truthful.

“So teach them, and then we can eat our brunch in peace. When you do, hopefully they’ll never do it again.” You weren’t expecting Danny to side with you in the matter, but you especially weren’t expecting for him to cheer you on. As you listened to his story of the years he spent dealing with them, you understood why he was telling you to do it. Knowing Danny, you could only assume that there had been many instances where he had to do damage control because of Jake and Sam’s childish behaviour, and he was sick of it. Plus, he seemed quite annoyed with the amount of broken hearts that have ensued because of the brothers tyranny.

Part of you thought it was crazy, that there was no way you could do that to the boys. The other, angrier part of you thought it was a great idea. After only two days of turmoil caused by their behaviour, you were in shambles. Now, knowing that they were completely aware of their own actions, you had no issue handing it right back to them. “Okay.” You agreed. The liquor definitely had an impact on your decision making, but not enough for you to worry about it.

“There. Problem solved.” He smiled. “Maybe that lesson you were dreading wasn’t really your lesson after all.”

You both left the diner with a little more pep in your step than before. Your fears were settled, but not fully resolved. Still, the sense of doom that was looming over you seemed to ease up, and you accredited it solely to Danny. Without his words, you would still be drowning in your own misery. You spotted your car, making a move to get in the drivers seat. As you reached for the handle, you paused yourself, realizing that you were in no state to drive. You reached into your purse, fishing out your keys, and turned to see Danny already holding his hand out for them.

“All yours,” you said, dropping them in his palm. “Forgot.” You let out a giggle.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, sending a playful smile your way. You walked to the other side of the vehicle, getting in to the passenger side. Once you had your seatbelt buckled, he began the journey home. You connected your phone to the speaker, clumsily tapping the screen to unlock it. You hit shuffle on your playlist, not having the mind to scroll through and pick a song.

You turned your head towards the window, letting your eyes take in the sights as you passed by. Your mind was spinning with thoughts, but none stuck out as they passed through. Most were a jumble of topics from the previous day’s events, no coherent nature to them. You wanted to check your missed messages, just to see what they’d been saying, but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. You were angry, still, upset that they had no issue involving you in their mess and seemed to have no remorse over it. Even so, the urge to talk to them, to be with them, touched by them, was growing more urgent by the second.

Danny was right; it would be impossible to ignore them. That left you with two choices; play along, or let them play with you and get hurt in the process. You still weren’t certain that the first option would keep your feelings safe, but it was worth a try. Even if it didn’t, hopefully it would ensure neither would pull a stunt like such ever again. “I think I drank too much.” You stated, another giggle laced in your words. He glanced over at you from the drivers seat, giving you a grin.

“Guess that was my fault.” He chuckled.

“No,” you shook your head, smiling softly. “You helped, a lot.”

“I’m glad.” He replied, turning down the street your home was nestled on. “I’m always available for free therapy and alcohol.”

“I always appreciate it. I appreciate you.” You said, watching your driveway creep into sight.

“I appreciate you, bug.” He shot back without missing a beat. The pet name made your heart warm with affection. He really was your best friend, always your biggest comfort and favourite person. Nobody else compared to him, and you hoped that no matter how the situation played out, you’d still have him by your side. A small, selfish part of you wondered why you couldn’t just fall for him; he was funny, sweet, and genuine. Any time spent with him was worth more than the world, and he was beautiful, too. For some reason, it was written in the stars that he was to be your best friend, but that was more than okay. A life with Danny as your best friend was a certain promise of a good one. As much as it sucked dancing with the devil, or the Kiszka brothers, rather, it was meant to be. Even while you wished it away, hoped you could fall out of their grasp and into someone else’s, there was a part of you that loved being loved by them.

He parked your car in its usual spot, getting out to open your door for you. He walked you to the house, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. You both went to the living room, collapsing on the couch with exhaustion, as if you’d just ran a marathon. “You’re stuck here.” You laughed, finally realizing that he didn’t have his own car with him.

“I’ll call a cab, don’t worry.” He assured you, grabbing his phone to do just that. As he found himself busy telling the company the address, you reached over to the chair beside the couch, grabbing the acoustic guitar Jake had been playing earlier that morning. As he hung up the call, you plucked at the strings mindlessly, eventually switching to a chord progression that you had grown to know very well. “Dinner and a show?” He teased, still in awe that you had hidden your talent for so long.

“You know, it would be a lot of fun to come with you guys.” You thought aloud, dismissing his joke.

“You should.” He affirmed your idea. “Even if you just came for a part of the tour.” You let out a low hum, letting him know you heard him without having to respond. Instead of pushing you further, he leaned back into the couch and watched you as you played. Once you were certain he wasn’t going to speak again, you began to sing along to the music, to the song you loved so much. Jake had pegged it as your nickname, and at first it was endearing, but the more you listened to it, the more the words resonated with the ache settled deep in your chest.

“Rock on, Gold Dust Woman

Take your silver spoon, dig your grave” you looked to the fretboard, feeling the need to focus harder because of the alcohol swarming in your system.

“Heartless challenge, pick your path and I’ll pray

Wake up in the morning, see your sunrise loves to go down

Lousy lovers pick their prey but they never cry out loud.“

You sang the rest of the song, breathless by the time you were finished. Danny had a smile stuck on his lips, understanding that sooner or later you would agree to their offer. He could tell how badly you wanted to say yes, but your anxiety was holding you back. You were thinking of the offer, too, but something more pressing came to kind in light of the song choice. Or the mimosas. Or both, maybe. You weren’t sure. Either way, Jake Kiszka had inevitably made his appearance in your thoughts once more, but it wasn’t like he had left in the first place. His presence was always existing within your brain somewhere, even if it wasn’t at the forefront.

It was horrid, never being able to escape him, but it was phenomenal all at the same time. In the last twenty-for hours, he helped you feel more alive than you ever had before. His touch was still lingering in your skin, electrifying every nerve. The memory was fantastic, but nothing compared to the real thing. He was addicting; his company was no longer a want, but necessary for survival. You wondered if you would ever be able to live without it, quickly realizing that you never wanted to find out. Before, the thought of not having Jake around was terrifying, but after having him so intimately, the idea was debilitating, stealing the air from your lungs and crushing you under its weight.

“I could listen to you sing all day, but I gotta run.” Danny broke you from your thoughts. “Plans for tonight, can’t get out of them.”

“Cheating on me, Daniel?” You let out a tsk, showing your displeasure. He let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Could never do that to you, darling.” He said, as dramatically as possible. You put the guitar to the side, standing up with him so you could give him a proper goodbye. You pulled him into a hug a bit tighter than usual, catching him off guard. It only took him a second to return the gesture, wrapping you in an aura of comfort.

“Thank you for everything. I feel a lot better.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He assured you. “I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon?” You nodded, head still pressed to his chest.

“I love you.” You said, parting ways with him. “And yeah, I’ll update you.” You smiled, your secret plan solidified by your words.

“Give them hell.” He said, a tone of pleading hidden in the joke. With a wave, he disappeared around the corner and the front door sounded a moment later. The second the door shut, the emptiness of the home already started to seep in.

You gathered your thoughts, shaking away the haunting feeling of seclusion, and made your way to your bedroom. Once inside, you switched the power on to your record player, resuming whichever vinyl you had left from this morning. You let your eyes flutter closed at the hum of the song cutting through the silence. Another vibration from your phone caught your attention, suddenly remembering the messages you had intended to ignore. Now, with Danny’s words sounding in your mind, and your first chance at alone-time, you channeled a new courage to reply. Your fingers pulled the phone from your pocket, eyes immediately drifting over the screen. There were a few texts from your own band mates, and when they could come over to practice. You made a mental note to respond to them later. You moved on, seeing Sam’s name adorned on a missed call. You opted to focus on him later, your eyes seeking the contact you wanted to deal with first.

The notification bar from Jake had three messages. When you tapped them, you expected to be met with filthy words to fuel your desire to get back at him. Instead, the first was a small message of thanks for letting him stay the night prior, confessing his enjoyment. It was simple, not detailed, but enough to make your heart beat a little faster and a blush to make its way onto your cheeks. The second message was a well wish for your lunch date with Danny, saying he hoped you had a good time. The third was much different, more on par with what you had expected from him.

Jacob

Let me know when you want to share some more secrets, Gold Dust Woman

You felt a surge of emotion rush to your stomach, the words so simple, but the feeling so large. It was so easy to give in to him; he barely had to look your way and you were jumping at the chance to be noticed by him. It was crazy how fast the dynamic changed, how quickly he became so important to you. Without a second thought, you were already typing a response.

You

What kind of secrets would you like me to share, Jacob?

You hit send, not expecting a response considering you had waited so long to reply. Before you could even shut the screen off, the text bubble appeared on the screen, signifying his presence in the chat. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, happy to see that he was on your hook just as much as you were on his.

Jacob

I can think of a few

You

I’m sure you can. Care to elaborate?

His response was almost immediate, as if he’d pre-typed the words in anticipation of your question.

Jacob

Still wearing that red thong from earlier, or was that just to show off?

You enacted a plan as soon as the text was delivered and you processed what it said. You threw your phone on your bed, quickly shimmying out of your clothes and discarding them on the floor. The alcohol was still buzzing through your veins, your decisions heavily reliant on the false confidence the champagne bestowed upon you. You retrieved your phone, making a move to stand before the mirror on the opposite side of your room. You pulled up your camera, taking a few pictures from different angles, clearly showcasing the red fabric he was so curious about. The pictures that included the matching bra was just out of generosity.

You sifted through the pictures in your camera roll, picking the ones you thought were the best. You swiped back into his chat, reading his message over again. Instead of saying anything else, you sent the few photos you deemed acceptable. You went to the kitchen, unable to find a care to put your clothes back on, and turned your phone screen off. You scoured the fridge, finding a bottle of wine unopened and patiently awaiting your arrival. As you poured yourself a glass, you listened to the repetitive vibrations of incoming text messages. You looked to the clock on the wall, noting the time. Then, you took a seat in a chair and enjoyed the beverage you had fixed for yourself.

After a few moments, the texts ceased, leaving you to sit in silence and ponder your actions. You sipped away at the bitter liquid, refusing to give in to the temptation of answering him. When your glass was half empty, the vibrations resumed. This time, it was an incoming call. The ticking of the clock caught your attention, realizing you’d left him on edge for about fifteen minutes. You figured if you let it go much longer, he would show up at your front door. The thought itself wasn’t terrible, and you certainly wouldn’t mind the company, but you decided you wouldn’t push him that far. His incoming call ended, but it wasn’t long before another one sounded. With a smile on your lips, you picked up your phone and accepted his attempt to reach you.

“Hi,” you said, cheerily, as if you had no idea he had been blowing up your phone. “What’s up?”

“Ignoring me, sweetheart?” His voice was low, no angry tone or hint of annoyance. The soft inquiry sent a rush of arousal through you, just knowing that you had bothered him so badly was enough to send you spiralling.

“Why would I do that?” You asked, tipsiness laced in your voice. He picked up on it almost immediately, thinking your new-found confidence was a result of the alcohol. In truth, he wasn’t completely wrong. Although you and Danny had devised the plan, the execution was heavily reliant on intoxication. For some reason, sobriety did not help your case with either brother. Their charm and wit held you in a chokehold, any time you had the courage to retaliate, they made another move to make you submit. Despite your lack of control, it was still quite enjoyable. Now that tables had turned, that he was the one sitting and thinking about you and slowly driving himself to insanity, you had to admit that it was enjoyable, too. Maybe even more so, if you had to choose.

“Don’t be a tease, angel.” He hummed, the sound of his voice through the phone sending a shiver through you. You thought you might give in, throw the act away and beg for him to come over, but you bit your tongue and powered through.

“I thought that’s what you wanted to see, baby.” You played innocent, taking another sip of wine to keep the spirits high. Your head was buzzing, swimming with many thoughts. Most were filthy, focused mainly on how badly you wished he was in front of you, rather than on the phone. It was ridiculous how fast he consumed your entire being. Thoughts of his hands, his tongue, and how good they felt when they were on you. You missed him, even if you opted not to say it aloud. It had only been a few hours, but it was much too long for your liking. “Was that what you wanted, Jacob?”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, bothered by your use of the pet name, bothered by the sultry tone you were speaking in. A smirk formed on the corner of your lips, cocky enough to know that you had power over him, too. “Yeah, it was, baby.” He conceded, unwilling to argue the point. “You still didn’t answer my question.” He stated, not willing to let you off the hook so easily.

“What was your question?” You asked, one last attempt to get under his skin. He let in a long breath, trying his best to stay calm while you made it a point to piss him off.

“Why were you ignoring me, angel?” He was heavy on the terms of endearment, leaving you unsure if it was because they were genuine, or if he was using them to coerce an answer from you.

“Wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie to him. “Did it work?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled his response wordlessly. Even without an explicit affirmation, you could tell it did just by his tone change. He had expected the answer, but it didn’t seem to make him feel any better. “Didn’t know you were such a brat.” He noted.

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.” You snipped back almost immediately. He let out a chuckle, but it wasn’t because he thought your words were humorous. It radiated a tone of shock, as if he was trying to tell you that you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned. “Don’t make me come over there and fuck that attitude out of you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You teased. He could hear the smile on your lips through your words, making it difficult for him to keep up with the act. He found your joy infectious, and the teasing fun, in a greater sense than just sexual. He enjoyed all conversations shared with you, even if there was no sexual gratification. He just loved being around you.

“I would, but I don’t think you would.” He said, simple enough to get the point across, but powerful enough to worsen the growing ache between your legs.

“Maybe you’re the sadist.” You theorized, throwing his own idea back in his face. If only he knew how badly you lived to please him, his previous accusations of sadism would be laughable.

“You’ll have to wait and see. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” His voice was soothing, even if the topic was filthy. You could listen to him speak all night and never get bored. He was devastatingly perfect, and he made it easier to fall for him every time he opened his mouth. Without thought, you opened your mouth to speak, letting the wine take control of the conversation.

“I miss you.” The statement was quiet, but impactful. In reality, the three words were barely loud enough to catch a normal listeners attention, but the sound was deafening, to him. When you were met with silence, a fizzle of regret formed in your chest, wondering if you took it too far. You would take it back, pretend you never said it or bury it so deep down that could never surface again, just to ensure he wouldn’t hang up the phone; the last thing you wanted was to scare him away.

Although drunk, your feelings were true. You did miss him: you wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever, whether it be just with basic comfort or with sexual nature. You didn’t care, as long as he was with you. In three days, his presence had not only caught your attention, but made home within the walls of your house. Feelings for him were blossoming from every angle, immersing you within them and tying you down with their roots. It only took three days for Jake to make you a fool for him, three days to produce a feeling that rivalled your feelings for Sam. If you thought you were in too deep before, you were drowning, now.

That’s the funny thing about love; it cares little about who it’s next victim is, only about the fatalities it leaves in its wake.

Despite equal consent to the game, fatality was most definitely the prize. By choosing to be ignorant to risk, all three of you willingly sealed your own fate. No amount of repent could save you from the consequences. Deep down, you were well aware of that fact, but the sin was so pleasurable that it no longer mattered.

“I miss you, Gold Dust Woman.” The words only solidified your desire to ignore the risk. It was the most beautiful statement you had ever heard, and it was laced with sincerity. Imbedded with so much emotion that it made your head spin, wondering if it was even possible for someone to speak with such unwavering clarity. As if he, too, realized the extent of his vulnerability, he quickly spoke to cover it. “I miss being inside you, more.” The sweet tone quickly turned into one of desire, but both of you knew it was a lie. He desperately missed the mornings activities, his arms wrapped around your waist with a kiss placed to your neck while the smell of coffee lingered in the air. Smiling and laughing, singing along and poorly dancing to the hum of the record player. Taking turns playing guitar for each other, him dedicating every song to you but leaving it unspoken. He missed the moments of silence, more comfortable than any other, where he could hear your breathing steady while your eyes fluttered closed, enticed by the idea of falling back into a slumber. He missed the fleeting feeling of you being his, and his alone. Even if the idea wasn’t wholly truthful, he liked to pretend it was.

And in a way, you were. Every part of you belonged to him in some sense, even if other forces were trying to pull you away. But neither of you would ever speak those thoughts aloud, scared of the same things, even if the ones you focused on were not the biggest threats. Instead, you played along, sad that he felt the need to discredit such a genuine confession, but relieved that you didn’t have to explain your own. You both fell in step with the devil once again, ignoring the ache in your hearts and covering it with animalistic attraction and half-truths. If only you could both hear how loud he was laughing, pleased that you carried on just how the devil intends.

“You know there’s always a place for you between my legs, baby.” You whispered, the low tone shaking him to his core, settling in his bones and breaking them under the weight of the statement. It was unspoken that the confessions of emotion would be ignored, as always. It was just the way things were. You could practically hear his need for you through the phone, even if he didn’t say anything.

“Is that what you want?” He posed the question in a derogatory manner, as if he was trying to make you to feel shameful for wanting him so badly. You could see through it, knowing that he just wanted to hear you admit your desperation for him. “You want me, baby?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. As you realized that, you also realized how badly you wished you could see him. Before responding any further, you clicked the FaceTime icon on his contact. Within seconds, he accepted. The screen lit up with his face, immediately giving you a sense of relief. You took in the sight, noting he was sitting in his living room. You had only been to his apartment a handful of times, but you knew it well enough to recognize it. “Hi,” you smiled, almost forgetting the nature of the conversation.

“Hi, beautiful.” He disregarded the vulgarity for a moment, too, just so he could admire you. The blush that spread across your cheeks caused a smile to break out on his lips, too. He noted the wine glass in the frame before his eyes inevitably landed on your attire, the adoration in his eyes quickly fading into lust. The distant look let you know that he was already imagining what was beneath the flimsy red fabric. Remembering what lie beneath. As much as his expression enticed you, you couldn’t let him get away with it without making a comment.

“Eyes up here, Jacob.” You scolded, catching his attention again.

“Expect me not to stare when you look like that?” He asked, a smile still lingering on his lips. “Sadist.” He smirked, the word bouncing between you both, accompanied by pointed fingers and accusatory tones. Perhaps both of you were the sadists by continuing your entanglement without caution or worry about the future.

“I know how much you love the red, but I think you’ll love what’s underneath it, more.” You said, eyes never leaving his face. You could see the muscle in his jaw tense at the thought, proving you were correct.

“I think red is your colour, sweetheart.” He noted, disregarding your words. As bad as he wanted you to remove the clothing, he’d be caught dead before admitting you were right. “Sit back, baby. Let me see the rest of you.” The order was firm, making sure you knew that it was not a request. You propped your phone against the wine bottle, obeying the instructions and leaning back in your chair, allowing him a better view. He let out a sigh, content with the sight of your mostly exposed upper body.

“Like this?” You asked, bringing your hand to your chest and gently running your fingers over the edge of the cup on your bra, gently pulling it down in the process. It was enough to tease him, but not enough to show him what he was hoping to see. You let your finger linger for a second before releasing the hold. The fabric drifted back to its original position and you let your fingers trail down your bare torso.

“Just like that.” He affirmed, visibly bothered by the show you were putting on. “Be a good girl and take that off for me.” His plea was covered with dominance in attempt to hide his neediness, but it wasn’t working. Part of you wanted to give into the request; with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to want to deny him of anything. But, that little devil in your head was as angry as ever, now fuelled by the knowledge Danny had given you.

“Come over and take it off yourself.” You replied, trying to remain unbothered by his pet names. His eyes flashed with discontent, fed up with your continuous disobedience.

“You want me to come over?” He asked, playing into whatever game you were trying to start with him. You gave a nod, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to withstand the temptation for much longer. “You need someone to take care of that ache between your legs? To make you feel so good that you can’t remember your own name?” His tone was soft, sympathetic almost, but the flame ablaze behind his pupil and the slight tension in his jaw led you to believe he was being quite misleading.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, ignoring your worry about his honesty. The arousal pooling between your legs was beginning to feel uncomfortable, like a constant, dull pain that would eventually drive you crazy. Something about Jake always led you to believe that life without him would lead you to the brink of insanity. The constant talk of want, or desire was quite minimal compared to how you truly felt about him. Necessity was closer to correct, depending on his touch more than your own heartbeat to keep you alive.

“You need someone to take care of that pretty little cunt,” he deducted, taking in a long breath at the sound of his own words. He was just as worked up as you, debating throwing his plan in the garbage and getting in his car that instant. “And you know I’m the only one who knows how to do it right.” He finished, finding the strength to stay seated and continue his merciless taunts.

“Please come over, baby. I need you so bad.” The words slipped out easier than any you had said before, the strength you had to endure his words was breaking apart every time he opened his mouth.

“I know, angel.” He hummed, soothing you for just a moment. You thought he was going to give in, to tell you he would be there in a minute, but when he spoke again, you wish you’d never started the battle in the first place. “I want to help you out, but you haven’t been very good for me. Being a tease doesn’t get you what you want, baby. You know that.”

“Jake, please. I’m sorry.” You begged, that feeling of familiar dread filling your stomach. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“If I give you what you want, you won’t learn anything.” The irritation that grew from the smirk he was wearing was unbearable. You couldn’t genuinely believe that after the entire call, he would have the nerve to deny either of you the pleasure of spending another night together. “Go take care of yourself, sweetheart. Just think of me when you do.” Your teeth were clenched, frustrated that your efforts seemed to have no effect on him.

“Just come over, baby.” You tried once more, but his mind was made up.

“If you do what I say and behave, I might come and see you later.” So that was his plan; like always, he was willing to give in, but he felt the need to ensure you would suffer, first. “Another picture might help, too.” He sent a wink your way, so subtle that you almost missed it. Before you had a chance to respond, he had ended the call and you were met with the disappointing sight of your screensaver, wishing you had one more minute to admire the sight of his face.

You had two options: deal with the issue yourself, wait it out and hope he would feel generous enough to pay you a visit after a while, or call a cab and go to him, first. As much as the second option was tempting, you knew if you did so, it would only fuel his ego even further. He was well aware of the power he held over you, and running to him would only solidify the idea in his mind. Waiting to see if he would come over might do the same, but at least you would have the upper hand. By the time he showed up, your overwhelming need for him would have time to simmer. Then, you could give him a taste of his own medicine.

So you sat, sipping away at your wine, thinking that it wouldn’t be too difficult to wait it out. The closer the bottle got to empty, the more confident you felt about the situation. If he wanted to be an asshole, you could be, too. His request for more pictures would go unanswered, and he would have to give in. Even in your drunken state, you were aware of the power you had over him, too. Confidence did not equal satisfaction, though. You nursed the last of your wine until he showed up, or until you found something better to do, quickly realizing that time would not satisfy your craving for him. With every minute that passed, you hoped the feeling would fizzle away, but the more you ignored it, the worse it seemed to get.

Eventually, as you drained the last few drops of your glass for the second time (you had to make sure it was completely empty, of course), you heard a knock sound at the front door. A jolt of energy surged through you, realizing you had won the battle without putting any effort in at all. You stood, leaving the empty bottle on the table for decoration, and wasted no time following the sound of the knock. When you reached the front door, you ran your hand through your hair, straightening yourself out to look the best you could for him. Before opening the door, you ever so slightly peeked through the blinds.

In your drunken state, it seemed blatantly obvious that it was Jake standing outside. The tuft of brown hair that caught your eye was so familiar, immediately showering you with relief. But, if you looked for a moment longer, you might have clued in that opening the door in your current attire was a mistake. Had sobriety been in the question, you would have noticed the distinctive difference, how the body was taller, a bit more slender than the boy you were looking for. Maybe, it was possible you did notice, but we’re too blinded by excitement to cognitively understand that Jake was not the one knocking on your door. You wished to see him so badly that you overlooked any possibility of it not being him standing there.

When the door creaked open, you had a smirk on your lips, ready to throw his bluff back in his face. Instead of grasping the feeling of satisfaction for Jake’s failure, dread bled into every nerve in your body. It took a moment for both of you to understand exactly what scene you had found yourself in, but when you came back from the shock, you couldn’t even find the right words to express how you were feeling. Your limbs were frozen, unable to shut the door again and your heart was stuck in your throat. Sam’s wide eyes and parted lips showcased his matching emotions, also void of a proper response. Even in his complete surprise, he couldn’t help but feel his gaze drifting over every exposed part of you that was offered. If you wanted to be dramatic, you could even go as far as to say he was drooling at the sight of you.

After a moment of staring, you took a step to the side, covering as much of you as possible behind the solid door. “Do you greet everyone like that, or am I interrupting something?” He said, clearing his throat, joking to subtly to pass off his blatant gawking.

“Um, no… and no, I guess.” You squeaked, cheeks red enough to match the fabric that was barely concealing you.

“Expecting someone else?” The corner of his lip upturned into a smirk, finding humour in the awkward moment. He knew you were likely expecting his brother, but his cockiness allowed him to use the knowledge to his advantage.

“No,” you said after a long bout of silence, trying to sound confident. The alcohol was sending the devil in your head into a drunken rampage. Your plan to play into their game was bouncing around within your skull, urging you to take the embarrassing greeting and make it into something better. If Jake wasn’t willing to give you what you needed, you were sure that Sam would have no problem helping you out. If they wanted to involve you in their mess, you should have no issue using it for your own benefit. You were both playing with fire, but the heat was gradual; welcoming at first, and only burning you after the fact, once you were too far in to turn around.

“So I showed up at the perfect time, then?” Your anxiety washed away, even finding yourself able to produce a genuine smile at his ridiculously childish response. Your eyes drifted over his face, taking in the details of his expression. He had recovered from his nervous state, too, but his eyes were still glistening with appreciation at the beauty of you before him. You could have shut the door, turned him away with an apology and let the memory die, but his beauty was captivating, and you were drawn in by the way he was watching you. If you had found yourself in the situation with a lower blood-alcohol content, the whole thing would have been ridiculous and terribly wrong. Maybe it was the wine, or the brunch conversations that lead you to the conclusion in which you were headed towards. It didn’t matter, anyway, because you had already made up your mind. You didn’t want to turn him away; you were eager to let him inside.

“I think so.” You agreed, playing into him.

“Red’s your colour, princess.” He noted, trying to catch another glimpse of what you were trying to hide from him without being too obvious. Just another blatant show that Sam and Jake were in fact brothers, and brothers indeed. Too alike for their own good, and too foolish to see the problem. “You should wear it more often.” His voice was quiet, much different than his usual chipper tone that sounded through an entire room. You had never heard him speak in such a way, except for the small moment shared in your kitchen. It was enticing, perfectly alluring and dangerously gratifying.

“You should come in,” you stated, not as a request, but a fact. He watched you for a moment, attempting to convince himself that you were serious and not just pulling his leg. When you kept your composure, no hint of anything other than a genuine nature, he made a move towards you. Once he was inside, you closed the door behind him with little thought.

Perhaps too much carelessness for such a grave decision that would ultimately seal your fate.

Lousy lovers pick their prey

but they never cry out loud

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld

168 notes · View notes

sunnyville36 · 3 years

Text

Mamihlapinatapai {part 2}

Thank you all so sooo much for the kind feedback on part 1! Part 2 is coming at you now! 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: injuries, mentions of death/war/murder, emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4.5k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

A Summer’s Ball | Kingdom of Gu, present day

The next few days were just as tumultuous as the first, Chan and Korenna slowly progressing from treating each other with complete silence, to short-lived bickering, to finally being able to hold a civil conversation for at least a few minutes. You escorted them to more ceremony preparation meetings, then to councils with the foreign affairs ministers, the historians, the priests, each one stressing how this union would be a stepping stone in your two kingdoms’ relations and they should think of it as a huge honor. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the both of them, being reminded over and over how their lives were simply a means to an end, to be controlled at the whim of their fathers’ aspirations.

A turning point finally came when the three of you visited the city surrounding the palace grounds, the prince refusing to miss his weekly visit to the village market. Chan loved to interact with his people, to support their businesses, to hear their grievances, to show he cared. You followed behind the two of them as you walked through the plaza lined with stalls, Chan waving to each of the merchants, Korenna watching him with a mix of reservation and admiration.

“Your people seem to be thriving. I wish I could say the same about our villages.”

You eyed Chan, knew he was forcing himself to hold back a biting remark, likely about how if Lajor’s people were currently suffering, it was the monarchy’s fault. He finally came up with a question, trying his best to keep the conversation going.

“Have you brought up your concerns to your father?”

“I’ve tried, but he doesn’t want to listen to anything I have to say. All he cares about is what he thinks is right, no matter who suffers for it.”

Chan nodded solemnly, “I can understand that.”

Korenna gave him a somber look and appeared to have something more she wanted to say, but was promptly dragged off by a small child wanting to show her his father’s bakery stall.

You nudged Chan’s arm. “See, she’s not so bad, Your Highness. If you give her a chance.”

He started in the direction of the princess, turning to walk backwards and smile at you with his arms out in a lighthearted shrug, “If you say so.”

***

That evening the king was hosting a ball, to celebrate the engagement of the prince. You’d helped Chan dress, his midnight blue velvet ensemble and dark hair set off against the silver crown he wore making him look more like a deity of the moon than an earthly prince. Then you had gone to assist Korenna. You couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked as you watched her from across the room, her champagne colored gown and perfectly curled blonde hair standing out against the relatively muted colors worn by the other attendees. She was standing away from Chan, talking amongst a group of noblemen’s wives and other high powered ladies, but her eyes never strayed far from his back as he talked with Minho and some other knights around a wooden table in the corner.

“You look quite stunning tonight, Y/n. Purple is definitely your color,” came a deep voice on your left, and you turned to see Prince Felix approaching you, his small frame clothed in a breathtaking deep red suit. The younger brother of Prince Minho, Felix had the sunniest personality of anyone you’d ever met, quite contrasting to his voice but in perfect harmony with the bright smile he flashed as he reached your side. It had been several months since you’d last seen him, his studies as apprentice to your kingdom’s Chief Healer taking him to the academy in the highlands far away from the city.

“Prince Felix!” you exclaimed, arms reaching to pull him into a quick hug. “I could say the same for you; that red suits you perfectly, Your Grace.”

Felix laughed, releasing you from his hold. You and he had been close friends since childhood, ever since, at the age of 5, he’d stepped on the hem of your skirt and you’d pushed him into a mud puddle, causing guards to rush over and attempt to have you arrested. His mother and the queen had stepped in, calming the guards as you remorsefully reached out your hand to help him up only to be pulled down into the mud next to him, the both of you dissolving into fits of laughter.

“I’ve missed the city. And it seems the city has missed me for all the excitement it’s spun up in my absence.” His eyes followed your gaze to where Korenna had made her way over to Chan, and watched as she led him out to the quiet balcony overlooking the gardens. “How are you taking all of this?”

“I’m fine, Your Grace. What reason would I have not to celebrate such a momentous occasion?”

Felix fixed you with a knowing look, but dropped the subject, content to stand with you at the edge of the dance floor.

“Y/n, I thought I told you not to let Christopher and the princess out of your sight,” came King Bang’s voice from behind you. “The last thing we need is for them to get into one of their verbal sparring matches with the whole court present.”

You turned, lowering your head to the king. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

You left Felix next to the king, his expression turned to one of distaste at his new company, and walked quietly out onto the balcony where the couple was talking.

They were standing closer together than you had ever seen them, leaning forward against the railing’s edge. They seemed to be deep in conversation, Korenna actually reaching her hand up to place it on Chan’s back. It didn’t feel right watching them without their knowledge, so you cleared your throat loudly, causing both their heads to snap up. Chan looked slightly embarrassed, his head tilting forward, but Korenna’s expression was almost unreadable. She stood staring at you for a few seconds, then pursed her lips, nodded her head to Chan, and walked back into the main ballroom as you approached him.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Trust me, Y/n, you didn’t,” came Chan’s tired reply. You wanted to know if she had upset him, to know how you could comfort him.

“What were you discussing?”

A soft song started to make its way out from the half-open door. Chan looked up at you, completely ignoring your question.

“Dance with me?”

Several seconds went by in silence. He reached out his hand, eyes imploring you to say something, to say yes.

This was dangerous. You couldn’t think of a worse position to be caught in, dancing with a betrothed man far above your stature. But you also couldn’t think of a way to say no to him.

You took his hand and he pulled you flush against him immediately. You tried to resist the urge to place your head on his chest, but the feeling of being in his arms was too much, made you feel so safe. So you laid your cheek there and felt a low hum come up through his chest. It was quiet for a while, the two of you simply swaying back and forth, not doing any particular dance. You felt his head rise from where it had been resting on top of your head.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but you look gorgeous tonight Y/n.”

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness.”

“I know. I wanted to tell you again.”

Then he placed his head back down and you continued to spin in slow circles until the song ended. He brought your movements to a stop, taking your hand and kissing the top of it as he leaned forward in an exaggerated bow, “Thank you for the dance, my lady.”

You looked at him with a small smile. “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

He returned your smile, turned, and walked back towards the party. You felt your chest tighten, feeling a little too much like your dance had been his way of saying goodbye.

Thinly Veiled Threats | Kingdom of Gu, 6 years ago

“Watch out!”

You turned towards the direction of the voice just in time to see Chan break through the wooden fence in front of you, thrown off his horse by the force of the lance he just took to the chest.

The prince had just turned seventeen, which made him eligible to compete in the annual Four Kingdom Competition, where knights, lords, and even royalty from the continent’s four greatest kingdoms met to determine who among them would be crowned victor in a series of strength tests. His father had of course insisted he enter on his first eligible year, which had led to the activity you were currently engaged in, training a boy who was used to classrooms, libraries, and diplomacy lessons the intricacies of hand to hand combat. The tasks ranged from archery to sword fighting, wrestling to jousting, and while Chan knew his way around a broadsword and shield, it was clear that the latter of those was not going to be Chan’s strong suit.

You walked calmly towards where he sat on the ground, knowing he would only be more embarrassed by any attempts to rush to his aide. He was sitting up, so you could tell he wasn’t badly injured, but his right hand still stretched across his abdomen to clutch at his left side. He’d been hit there at least three times now, and if you had to guess, what was once a bad bruise was more likely a patch of broken skin at this point.

Voices floated around you as you pushed your way through the small crowd that had gathered around him, many asking the prince if he was alright or giving unsolicited advice on how to avoid the outcome he seemed to be cursed with. You picked up on the voice of a squire, one who served the boy who had knocked Chan down most recently, as he nudged the side of the older boy’s arm.

“You could have gone a little easier on him, you know. His mother just died.”

Great. Just what you needed; a physically and emotionally wounded Chan.

“Alright, give him some room everyone. His Highness is fine; go back to your own practicing.” You shooed away the stragglers and knelt so Chan could wrap his free arm around your neck, hoisting him up and slowly making your way to the infirmary tent. Leaning him against the side of a cot, you reached for the clean cloth and distilled vodka; this was going to hurt like a bitch, but Chan could take it.

“You’re pulling back too much and too early, it leaves your side vulnerable,” you said, carefully easing off his ripped tunic so you could tend to his wound.

He stayed silent for a few moments, fingers gripping harshly against your shoulder as you cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around his midsection.

“I…,” he trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the words he was looking for. “I’m a coward. I’m a failure and a coward and everyone knew it except me, until just now.”

His words knocked the wind out of you. You knew he was ashamed (entirely unnecessarily) when he couldn’t hold back the tears at his mother’s funeral while his father maintained his perfectly stoic expression (that heartless bastard), knew he was self-conscious about his fighting abilities, but you’d never heard him express that insecurity so directly before.

“Your Highness,” you spoke softly but forcefully, hands cupping his face to make him look you in the eye, “you are one of the bravest men I know. You have one of the hardest burdens a person can bear on your shoulders, have had it since you were born, and you carry it with grace and dignity and compassion. You inspire me and countless others every day with your strength and generosity. You are not a coward.”

He looked back at you, and suddenly you felt yourself being engulfed in his embrace, his legs parting to pull you close to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around your chest, his head pressing into the crook of your neck. Slowly you brought your hands up and began to rub small circles on his bare back. This was the most emotion he’d shown since that night you stood beside his mother’s bed, watching as he held her hand and whispered all the things he wanted to tell her one last time. You were a little overwhelmed, but mostly happy, happy that maybe he was feeling again. Eventually you heard his quiet voice next to your ear, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Then he released you from his hold, donned his shirt, and walked back to the jousting pitch. You watched him go, until a deliberate cough came from behind you, shattering your reverie.

“I suppose he’s lucky to have you.” The words spilled from the king’s mouth, his signature gravelly voice seeming to chase all other sound from the tent.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, I hadn’t noticed you were here,” you spoke, bending into a curtsey.

“It seems it is quite easy for the two of you not to notice others when you think you are alone.”

You blinked, unsure of where the king was going with his remarks. He sidled up to you, close enough you could hear him at a whisper.

“I may have owed your family a debt, but that has been repaid ten-fold. I know my son, know he would never be led astray of his responsibilities unless you gave credence to those thoughts in his head, fed his intimate physical desires. So do not delude yourself into thinking you can take him from me, little servant girl. And if he ever does come to me, asking me to set aside our laws, our traditions, so he can marry you, I’ll know what you have done, and you will never see the light of day again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Satisfied with your response, he left you there, his words staining your mind like the bloody cloth you clutched in your hands.

The Hunt | Kingdom of Gu, present day

How he managed to get his father to agree to this you had no idea. But Chan always was very convincing when he needed to be.

You were preparing for a day’s long hunt. In all honesty it was an excellent idea; it would give Chan space to be himself after having been shut inside the palace for two weeks, preparing for his impending nuptials. Normally this was one of your favorite activities to do with Chan and the knights; getting to ride, to spend time in the woods, maybe use your bow. But the one condition of the king’s agreement had been that Korenna was going too.

She’d been different with you, with everyone really, since that night on the balcony, avoiding attempts to make small talk and speaking harshly when she made requests. You didn’t want your relationship with her to turn sour, seeing as you’d soon be serving her for the rest of her life (and yours), so you held your tongue and pressed on with your duties.

Chan’s black courser and your chestnut palfrey were saddled, and you were in the midst of preparing a well-tempered white mare for the princess.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

You looked up, seeing the dark head of hair and upside down smirk belonging to Prince Minho smiling down at you as he leaned over your kneeling frame. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

You were not as close to Minho as you were to Felix, but you had always gotten along well, your similar sense of humor and affinity for archery solidifying your friendship.

He offered his hand to pull you up, which you accepted. “I’m glad you will be joining us on this outing, Y/n. I’m not sure I could handle Chan and Korenna on my own, even with 5 other knights to accompany me.”

You hummed in agreement, finishing attaching the bridle around the mare’s head. “I’m not sure you could either, Your Grace.”

Minho let out his signature high pitched laugh as the rest of your party approached, and the two of you maneuvered to the front of the pack as you set off towards the nearby woods. You all rode in silence for a while, riding not typically being an activity that required much talking, until you heard Korenna speak from her position next to Chan in the middle of your group.

“So, who is the best at the strength tasks of the Four Kingdom Competition?”

A strange question to ask so out of the blue, but you supposed it was somewhat relevant to the situation at hand.

“His Highness is an excellent swordsman,” you replied, looking back slightly in their direction.

“Sir Jeongin has given us all a run for our money in the wrestling ring,” you heard a voice from the back say. He must be one of the other knights in your party.

Chan replied next, “Minho is a skilled horseman, beats me in the joust nearly every time.”

Minho’s eyebrows rose up at that, smirking as he rounded out the answers, “And Y/n here is an expert marksman. She’s the best I’ve ever seen with a bow.”

You thanked him mentally, hoping he could read it in the look on your face. You weren’t about to boast about your own talents to the princess, but it was nice to know that she was now aware you weren’t just some lovesick girl who followed the prince around, that you actually took your responsibilities seriously.

“Really? And who taught you about archery, Y/n?” You thought you heard a touch of menace in her normally high pitched voice, but brushed it off.

“I’ve had many teachers, Your Grace, but the first was my father.”

“How very… non-traditional. Where is your father now? I’d love to meet him.”

You saw Chan and Minho tense in their saddles, well aware of what your answer would be.

“He died, Your Grace.”

“Oh,” said Korenna, her voice noticeably softer now, “I apologize for bringing up a sore subject.”

“It’s alright, Your Grace,” you replied. “It was a long time ago. You couldn’t have known.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group then, but luckily your first planned stop was not far ahead. A small grove of trees surrounding a clearing was where you usually began the hunt, splitting off in different directions and meeting back there before sundown. But because you had the princess with you today, it was a more laid back affair, and you’d planned to have a picnic of sorts before you continued in earnest.

Everyone set about unpacking the sacks that carried your meal for the day. You uncorked your canteen, taking a sip before heaving an exasperated sigh.

You’d forgotten to bring extra water for the horses.

You called over to Chan, where he stood spreading out a blanket for Korenna to sit on.

“Your Highness, I’m going to the creek to get water for the horses.”

Chan looked up and you could see the smile on his face from where you stood across the grove. “I’ll go with you!” he said happily, only to have his arm tugged back by the princess next to him.

“You are not a servant, Chan. I’m sure Y/n can go by herself.”

Your loud conversation had caught the attention of the rest of the group, who were all looking over at you in interest. You were surprised by her bluntness, but she did have a point. “Her Grace is right, I don’t need you to accompany me, Your Highness. I simply wanted to tell you where I was going.”

Chan gave a side glare at Korenna, but agreed. “Fine, but you shouldn’t go alone. Sir Jeongin - “

A tall boy, clad in the red, black, and gold uniform of your knights, walked over to the prince. He was no more than eighteen, must have only just taken his oath. You remembered his name from the earlier conversation about the strength tests, impressed he was making a name for himself so early.

“ - please accompany Y/n to the stream to fetch water for the horses.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

So the two of you set off, leaving the rest to their meals. You didn’t really need a knight for protection, but your heart warmed at the gesture of Chan not wanting you to go alone. You arrived at the bank of the creek and began filling some extra pouches you had brought with water.

“It’s so much quieter here,” Jeongin commented absentmindedly.

Despite the sound of the water running, you agreed it did seem calmer here than in the grove you came from. As you knelt by the edge of the stream, you noticed large patches of grass surrounding some nearby trees had been pressed down. Curious, you walked over to the area, observing the singed ground and muddy boot prints on the rocks, telltale signs of human presence. You hadn’t run into anyone else on your walk over, but maybe there were some others out riding today. Raising your head, you called to your companion, “Sir Jeongin! Were there any other hunting parties out today?”

“Not that I know of, Miss,” Jeongin replied, his expression revealing he was rather confused by your question.

You looked around again, and that was when you noticed the torn piece of blue fabric latched to a jagged branch on a nearby tree. Your blood ran cold and you grabbed Jeongin’s arm, breaking into a run.

“We need to get back to them. Now.”

You’d made it about half way back to the grove when you heard a scream, you and Jeongin sprinting to reach the clearing. But when you arrived, the scene was entirely not what you expected.

Your mind had immediately gone to the Lajorans when you spotted that piece of cloth on the tree. But here you stood, watching men clad in your own colors raise their swords to clash with the group of knights who’d accompanied you and the royals. Your eyes frantically searched among the chaos, looking for Chan, but before you could spot him you noticed Korenna, hiding alone behind a large rock at the edge of the treeline. You pulled Jeongin back behind a tree, gesturing in her direction.

“Do you see the princess over there? You’re going to grab her, get on a horse, and ride back to the palace now.”

Jeongin was looking at you with wide, scared eyes; his mouth was open, not making a sound.

You shook his shoulder. “Sir Jeongin, do you understand me? Do not look back at us, just take the princess and get her to safety. I need you to do this.”

Your words seemed to finally reach him, and he set his mouth in a straight line. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good. Go. And don’t look back.”

He left your spot behind the tree and you turned back to the action in the grove, still trying to find the prince. Finally your eyes landed on two men standing back to back, swords flying as they blocked the attack of about 6 different men.

Chan and Minho.

You started towards them, reaching for your own sword, when you spotted someone perched in a tree right outside the circle of men. The attackers started to pull back from around the two princes, and you could see exactly who the archer had in his line of sight.

You screamed his name, sprinting to cross the clearing and threw your body in front of him, arms outstretched.

You felt a sharp pain in your left shoulder as you fell against Chan’s chest, his arms coming up to catch you.

“Y/n! Y/n!”

Trumpets were blaring from the direction of the castle as Minho dragged Chan back, still desperately clutching you in his arms. The attackers were dispersing and you heard the sound of a voice saying “Chris”; it took a moment for you to realize it was your own.

“I’m here, Y/n, I’m here. Just hold on please. You’re going to be okay, just please hold on.”

The last thing you saw were his eyes as your vision went black.

Of Flower Buds and Roots | Kingdom of Gu, 16 years ago

“Mother, when will they be here?”

You were standing in the open-air courtyard at the front of the palace, your mother’s hands on your shoulders. The two of you had moved to the palace a few years ago, when your mother had gotten a job as a servant there after the war ended. Today, you were told, would be the day you were to start your position there, as personal attendant to the young crown prince.

“I’m sure soon darling. Remember we never rush royalty.”

As you waited, your eye was caught by a small boy standing with a large scary looking man. He looked to be about your age and was holding a tiny bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. The man seemed to be trying to take them away, but the boy clutched them to his chest. A woman who you thought you’d seen before approached them, glaring at the man, who backed away from the boy as she took his hand. Then, they started walking towards you.

Your mother tightened her grip on your shoulders, bending into a curtsey and pushing you down with her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“The pleasure is ours,” came the queen’s pleasant voice. She knelt down between you and the boy.

“You must be Y/n. This is my son Christopher, the prince. You will serve as his attendant.”

You stared at the boy, his eyes even with yours, hair mussed and shirt covered in dirt.

“He doesn’t look like a prince. He looks like me”

“Y/n!” your mother gasped, the queen chuckling slightly and calming your mother with a hand on her arm.

“You’re right, he might not look like one yet. But it’s going to be your job to help him become one. Do you think you can do that?”

You pondered her question and finally said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and stepped aside, placing her hands on Chan’s back and pushing him forward.

“Hi Y/n!” the boy said excitedly. “My name’s Chris. Or Chan. Either’s fine! I brought you these flowers! I thought they might look pretty in your hair.”

He extended his tiny fist holding the flowers and you took one from the bunch, pulling back your hair and putting the flower behind your ear.

Chan’s face immediately lit up in the brightest smile you’d ever seen, his eyes crinkling cutely. “I was right!”

From that moment on, you decided there was nothing you wouldn’t do to see that smile on his face.

{part 3}

163 notes · View notes

todrokishoto · 3 years

Text

late night conversations | shouto todoroki

summary: excitement leads to insomnia and insomnia leads to a conversation with mr. shouto todoroki

warning(s): mentions of fighting and poor half and half’s childhood. slight angst

a/n: ok but this is not where i was expecting this to go. it was supposed to be about something else lmao but enjoy ig

your undeniable fatigue was overwhelming, but you were still unable to succumb to the sleep you so desperately needed. not yet, anyway. your body, albeit drained from the physical training performed today during class, was buzzing.

demanding training was nothing new to class 1-a, and each and everyone of you were progressing with each round of drills the teachers would throw at you. add academic studies into the mix as well and you have the perfect recipe for exhaustion.

your door slipped shut behind you, the excitement coursing through your veins making it impossible to remain in bed. the hardwood floor was cold underneath your bare feet, but you didn’t feel like going back to fetch your slippers.

during class with mr. aizawa, you were finally able to nail the ultimate move you had been working on for the past couple of weeks. not only did it feel amazing to execute it flawlessly after so much practice, but it had scored you the victory in the fight against ururaka.

the auburn-haired girl had learned a lot during her internship and had put up more of a fight than you expected. you had seen her go up against some of your other classmates, but experiencing it in person was definitely something else.

the ding of the elevator echoed, the doors moving apart, as you arrived on the first floor. thank goodness there were no rooms on this floor because you swore the sound would have been loud enough to wake someone up.

fiddling with your phone, you moved mindlessly, trying to ignore the aches moving throughout your body. you weren’t entirely sure what you planned to do, to be quite honest, but anything seemed like a better idea than being stuck in your bedroom.

most of your classmates were sleeping, you assumed, or at the very least tucked into bed. the unusual silence of the student dorms didn’t necessarily surprise you but it did make you feel slightly uneasy. it felt foreign.

so when your name was called, you couldn’t contain the small yelp that escaped you. your phone collided with the floor, the sound once again echoing around the (almost) empty common room, and you winced. with a flick of the wrist, your quirk brought your phone back into your hand and you glanced up to inspect who else was awake at this hour.

“shouto?”

his bicolored hair fell into his eyes as he nodded. it was obvious the boy needed a haircut soon but you didn’t dare comment on it. instead, you swallowed the remainder of your shock and made your way over to the sofa he was seated on.

“what are you doing up?” you questioned quietly, hoping you weren’t prying too much.

“couldn’t sleep. my thoughts are a little overwhelming at the moment.”

you nodded, your lips pursing together as you tried to wrack your brain for an appropriate response. the two of you had shared a handful of conversations but he was always so formal, making it hard to decipher his true feelings about you. if anyone were to ask if you were friends, you had no idea what to say.

he spoke first, “sorry for scaring you, by the way.”

“it’s all good,” you assured quickly, the corner of your lips twitching with hints of embarrassment. “i, uh, just didn’t expect anyone else to be awake. i can leave. if, uh, you know, you want me to.”

he shook his head, strands of red and white mixing together. he didn’t verbally protest but scooted over slightly, leaving more room on the couch for you to sit. you accepted his silent offer, not saying anything either, as you lowered yourself onto the sofa.

the silence continued. you were itching to break it, each second passing making you feel more and more on edge. shouto didn’t make a move to talk like he had previously and you found yourself wondering if it was due to his preoccupied mind or an inability to find the right words. maybe he had just invited you to sit out of common courtesy, secretly hoping you’d decline.

“great job—”

“so, how did—”

a smile tugged on your lips as his bicolored eyes widened slightly. you nodded, waiting for him to continue his sentence. he remained quiet for a brief moment and you wondered if he suddenly regretted what he was about to say.

“i just wanted to congratulate you on your win against uraraka. you did a great job,” he praised, his words being nothing but earnest.

“thank you. i didn’t know you were, uh, watching,” you admitted. why were you suddenly feeling self-conscious about him watching you fight? most of your classmates had, so why was he different?

he nodded. “kirishima was able to knock me outside the ring, so i had some time to watch you both.”

“kirishima? really? i mean— he’s my friend and i love him, but he beat you? really?”

his eyes closed momentarily as his left hand came up to his face. his fingers traced the scar framing his eye, seemingly subconsciously. you felt rude for watching him so intently but you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the contrast of his bright blue orb compared to the red mark.

only when his eyes met yours did you realize that you had been caught staring. you averted your gaze immediately. you desperately wanted the conversation to continue and you were inwardly scolding yourself when he spoke again.

“he made a comment and i got distracted, so he had an opening. he did put up a pretty good fight before that, though,” he recalled, his gaze flickering toward his hands now clasped in his lap. “i keep getting distracted when my past or family is mentioned, which is starting to mess with my focus and training.”

you swallowed, your chest swelling with pride. out of all people, shouto todoroki had decided to confide in you. while you knew a lot about him, his family and his past, most of the information came from your other classmates or rumors. he, himself, had never really seemed interested in sharing those details with you and you refused to pry.

“what did he say? i’ll beat his ass.”

a laugh. you hoped the surprise you felt wasn’t physically visible. his laughter was rarely shared and you could probably count on one hand how many times you had heard it. you decided right then and there that you would give anything to hear it again and again.

“just something about my left side matching him. you know, with the red all? it was mindless, really. no need to give him a beating on my behalf. he apologized after,” he assured. “i just... i hate that no matter what i do, my father and the family name still has this affect on me.”

his brain was reeling. you could practically see the gears turning and his internal conflict was essentially radiating from his body. eager to offer advice, you had to bite your bottom lip to keep quiet. you wanted to give him some time with his thoughts. you had interrupted him earlier, after all.

you knew about his complicated family dynamic. he inspired you, honestly. despite everything he had experienced so far in his young life, he was still able to be one of the top students. he was still able to get up in the morning and go about his day. other people weren’t that strong.

“i’m going to speak freely for a moment, if you don’t mind,” he didn’t object, so you continued. “no matter how much you wish he wasn’t, endeavor will always be your father. there’s not a single person who wouldn’t agree that your childhood was horrible, but you can’t change what happened.”

he listened, almost clinging to every word, desperate for validation. so you kept going,

“what i’m trying to say is that you’ve come so far. when school started, you were so reserved, obsessing over how your family name defined you. now, i see you laughing with iida and deku during lunch. you use your left side with, what seems like, no hesitation. children can’t choose their parents. you just need to keep proving that you’re better. that you’re able to come out on top. but you have to do it for you.”

you weren’t sure if your words had efficiently conveyed what you truly wanted to say. there was so much more you wanted to tell him. you wanted to praise him, encourage him, let him know that while you two weren’t the closest - you would always be there for him.

but as he remained quiet, you couldn’t help but worry that you had crossed a line. that was it. if your relationship could be considered friendship in the first place, you had definitely ruined it now. each second of silence ensuing was like a stab to your heart, which was already thumping from nervousness, mind you.

“thank you,” it was no louder than a whisper but you heard it clear as day. “i needed— thank you.”

the double-quirked boy wasn’t one to openly show his feelings. everyone knew this. whether he was angry, sad or happy, his face always appeared to successfully hide it. so you pretended not to notice the tears welling up in his eyes, offering him a smile instead.

once again, there was a silence engulfing the two of you. this one, though, wasn’t thick and awkward. it was welcome and comfortable. the kind of silence that happens between best friends and neither one of them mind.

you were the one to break it, albeit involuntarily. you know how bodies do things that you don’t necessarily want them do? yeah, well your body did just that. shouto’s bicolored eyes met with yours as a violent shiver coursed through you. was it really that cold?

he seemed to study you briefly before holding out his arm and angling his body slightly toward you. you weren’t sure if he was just that oblivious or if he was being bold. this time, it was your mind going into overdrive. it seemed innocent enough but you still felt hesitant to accept his offer.

before you were able to either accept or decline, his arm had wrapped around your shoulders. with a gentle tug, you practically fell into his embrace, immediately feeling the warmth from his skin. your tense muscles relaxed and you let his heat melt away your worries.

“my left side’s not all bad, i guess,” he mused and you swore you could hear a smirk. your face was pressed into his chest, making it impossible for you to check.

instead, you readjusted your arm, placing it on his abdomen. he tensed up ever-so-slightly when you did, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, but neither of you commented on it. his chest continuously rose and fell with each breath, creating a rather comforting rhythm.

“so, what did you think about my fight? did i impress mr. shouto todoroki?”

yet another laugh escaped him, his chest rumbling underneath you. you swore it was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard and it was easily becoming one of your favorites. you would, without hesitation, fight anyone who dared take it away from him.

he began telling you about what he had noticed during your fight and you listened. you knew he was giving honest advice, and honestly, you could probably use the pointers but you found yourself more captivated by his voice than anything else. had it always been this smooth?

your conversations continued. they were random and sometimes one-sided, and you had no idea how they lasted but you didn’t want them to stop. he didn’t either, it seemed, occasionally bringing up new topics himself. they continued long into the night, you were sure.

and, eventually, fatigue caught up to the both of you. the conversations more and more scarce. his breathing growing more and more shallow, barely moving underneath you. your eyelids getting heavier and heavier.

neither one of you retreated to your respective bedrooms. neither one of you moved; your bodies just melting together like missing puzzle pieces finally finding each other. and neither one of you heard the snickers and camera shutters from your classmates in the morning.

204 notes · View notes

givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper - Pt 15

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of past abusive relationship, swearing

Length: 1.2k

Notes: Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, keep the story rollin’. More plot, lack of smut, surprise guests, it’s all coming together now I promise. Since tags don’t work for me, like AT ALL, I’m going to attempt a posting schedule! Which is laughable if you know how I story-board. Every Tuesday night at 7pm MDT

Series Masterlist

You needed to get laid.

No, not just laid. You needed to get fucking dicked down.

You needed it so hard and rough that you couldn't walk the next day.

It had been seven weeks. Seven weeks without an orgasm.

Sure, you'd tried to get off on your own fingers but after the delicious stretch from manual-labour-thickened digits how could yours ever compare? You had gone so far as to order a vibrator, something you’d never even consider for fear of getting caught, but your body always stalled out just on the cusp of an orgasm.

You needed Frankie and you were going to get him,

Date night was back on the table, and hopefully, you'd be getting railed on said table before the end of the night. Frankie had been very reserved when you'd brought up the idea of a sleepover for Annie, but once Jacquie had assured him for the fifth time that she knew how to take care of children, seeing as she had four of them herself, he had agreed.

The scheduled day had arrived, legs were shaved, an amazing meal was cooked, and a sweet little babydoll dress was purchased that you knew would drive him crazy. You even went the extra mile and set up your old record player and had Johnny Cash crooning at you from the living room.

Finishing the final touches, you surveyed the table setting, trying to decide between using your nice plates to complete the aesthetic or just putting down plastic so you could sweep the table clear and mount your boyfriend on it without fear of broken ceramic.

Finally deciding on the first option, presentation is everything after all, you were digging through your china cabinet when the doorbell rang. How formal of him, you thought to yourself, glad he was playing along with the unspoken mood you'd set for the night.

Opening the door, your gaze widened a comical amount and your jaw went slack. There was nothing in the world that could have prepared you for this.

"Close your mouth dear, before the flies get in."

"MOM?!"

It really shouldn't have shocked you, knowing the woman as well as you did, that she would show up unannounced like this. Ever since you'd let it slip that you and Frankie were in a relationship she'd been dropping hints that a visit was due, and you, not wanting to deal with her, had been blatantly changing the subject every time.

Then, Frankie had to go and tell her that an adorable little girl was now involved? That's not something she could ever resist, even if it wasn't exactly being offered to her.

Finally coming to terms with the fact that you weren't going to get railed tonight, and instead would be spending your week fending off your mother's well-meaning but entirely outdated advice, you opened the door wider and welcomed her into your home.

"Where's Dad?" You ask, glancing behind her onto the porch, noting a distinct lack of other vehicles. "Did you get a cab here?!"

"Sweetie, honestly, you know I don't like to drive and he doesn’t like to leave home," came her answer from your dining room where she was already adjusting your place settings to her standards. "Besides I wasn't sure how long you'd need me here for so I decided to fly and will just borrow your truck if need be."

So matter-of-fact, as if it was the simplest notion in the world, and said with such nonchalance, your mouth was back to hanging open again from the sheer audacity of the woman.

"Mom, no, wait, what?" You were floundering, completely at a loss for words. "Why would I need you here right now? I needed you when I was young, dumb, and blindly in love with Brad. I needed your guidance and concern when I was being manipulated-"

"Oh come on-" she tried to interrupt you with a wave of her hand.

"No! You keep trying to tell me he wasn't that bad but you weren't there. You didn't hear how he talked to me, how he treated me." You were over your shock, residual hurt and betrayal were now rearing their ugly heads. "Don't you shake your head at me! How dare you chose his side over mine! I was your daughter, your little girl," the words were getting stuck in your throat now, burning so hot with emotion you could almost see the pain they were inflicting as they landed on her ears. "and you chose to ignore the signs, the cries for help. You were only there for me when he died, but even then it was just to send your regards!"

"We really didn't know..." she answered in a small voice, so quiet it barely registered through the roaring in your ears.

"Denial, maybe? I don't think we could bear the thought of anything but a fairytale being true, so we willfully ignored the signs." She waited for a beat, probably giving you time to yell back at her but when you stayed silent she continued, "I don't think it truly sank in just how badly you'd been treated until you moved away. We thought quitting college was you just deciding you wanted to start a family. Then when you stopped calling friends and family, we hoped it was because you were making new ones. Then your weight loss and depression we blamed on infertility, and then again from the grief of his death." Lifting your head up and wiping away the tears that had streaked your cheeks, she smiled sadly at you while tears fell from her own eyes. "I'll never forgive myself."

"How could you not?" You sobbed, letting yourself sink onto a dining room chair.

Your mom tentatively made her way over to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and hugging your head to her stomach.

"Oh, Mom," you couldn't finish the sentiment, but you didn't need to. Springing up, you enveloped each other in a tight hug and rocked back and forth until the tears dried and your breathing was almost back to normal, save for the occasional hitch and sniffle.

Breaking apart, you were just about to ask if she wanted some tea when the front door flew open.

"Where's my pretty pus- oh! Oh."

"Frankie," you said calmly while your eyes screamed ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME at him, "this is my mother."

"So this is the handsome face behind that gruff voice!" God bless Margot and her ability to ignore the obvious, sometimes it actually came in handy. "And I suppose he's the second place setting for a lovely night I seem to have interrupted."

"Oh, no, Mom it's okay-"

"Nonsense! I'll check myself into the sweet little bed and breakfast I've booked for the week and see you both tomorrow!"

"It is nice to see you, Mom," you admitted, finding yourself meaning the words more than you expected to. "I'll meet you in town tomorrow and show you around?" Maybe having her here for a while would be nice, if the week went as well as tonight had, your relationship with her would be salvaged.

"You really don't need to do that, you just got here!" Frankie tried to reassure her, having noticed the red, swollen, tear-streaked faces and assuming there was unfinished conversation to be had.

You knew your mom was immovable once she had made up her mind, however, so you just followed her to the door and handed her her coat and your truck keys.

"Marvelous!" She pats your hand in thanks before a sly smile quirks her mouth up to the side and she winks, "Have a good night, Pretty Pussy!"

Part Sixteen

#frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #fankie catfish morales x f!reader #frankie catfish morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #fix'er upper

128 notes · View notes

sashayaweh · 3 years

Text

Sam and Bucky dance to this song after having to take refuge in a safe house during a particularly high stakes mission. Theres a record player and Sam makes this necessary senior citizen taunts when he catches Bucky's frequent glances towards where it sits on the wooden shelf. Eventually, Sam walls over to fiddle with it because Bucky insists on faking disinterest, but Sam really wants to see him being not-so-boring for once. It was rare to see the other man take interests in his surroundings, barring the hyperawareness that he had for every environment he found himself in.

Sam could almost imagine Bucky's robo-brain whirring to calculate all the exits, people, and vantage points for any possible threat. He never seemed to fully relax. Even sitting in a chair, he sat stiffly as if he was ready to leap out at at any moment. Sam could understand. He wasn't brainwashed and weaponized for 70 years, sure. But he has seen war and death. Things he'd rather forget. And he's felt fear. The initial fear of the thousand foot free falls, the fear of the police and the banks, and the fear of losing himself in it all. So, Sam gets the mental burden and understands how hard it is to leave once you're in.

So, he fiddles with the record player and pretends not to know how to work it. There's no other records visible, but luckily one is still in place. Bucky would eventually get irritated and put everything into place because he knows what Sam is doing. And he knows that Sam knows. Because Sam knows everything. Bucky assumes this from the amount of time the other man spends talking. So, he puts the record on like old times and ignores the lump trying to force its way up and the memories that resurface. Steve-

"You're lucky, man. Etta James, and a classic at that, talk about a two for one. Looks like our luck it starting to turn around, CP30," Sam smile toothily and Bucky wants to do do something to that gap in his teeth. He doesn't quite know what that is yet. Maybe punch it because Sam knows he doesn't understand that obvious reference. But Sam's smile soften to a close, and the corners curl at the edges as his head begins to sway with the notes. Like silk curtains, his eyes slip close in simple pleasure as if he was settling himself into the music.

Bucky watches and feels awkward. At some point, in the past, he would know what to do in the situation. He would know what to do with the violins and the soulful tones curling words of longing into the air. And tired fulfillment. Maybe, he would know what to do with Sam but he doubts it. Or at least how to...be himself. Maybe then they wouldn't argue for once. Sam opens his eyes and looks over to see Bucky who stood, stone faced and deep in thought. The focus of his hooded stare was intense and Sam scoffed. The other man was being broody again.

"Are you even listening to the music or did you zone out again?" He shifts, slightly elbowing his companion and Bucky blinks, his thoughts shifting back to the present.

"You started talking, I couldn't help myself," Bucky quips and Sam let's out a soft scoft that becomes a short laugh. Bucky feels his own lips twitch.

"You gotta relax, man. You could beat a piñata with the stick you have up your ass," Sam shakes his head. That wide tooth smile is back but this time its less cocky and a little more warm. Bucky rolls his eyes and looks away. He does that a lot. At least he understood the reference this time.

Sam sighs and stops the music. He replaces the needle at the original point and let's it go. After a few seconds of crackling silence, the song fills the room again. Sam slaps the back of his hand gently against Bucky's chest and steps back with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Wanna dance, old man?"

Bucky gently freezes in shock but Sam catches it because he expected it, really. Its why he asked in the first place. He wants to shake up that tightly wound exposure that Bucky has at all times. And he was bored. Bucky was not a talkative person and their current predicament left them without many sources for entertainment. It'd been hours since they arrived, yet Sam was feeling the time pass under his skin like an itch. He was exhausted and body weary, but it was better to stay awake so he could orient to the new time zone. As a result, he couldn't help but pester the other man.

"No."

Sam just kept looking at him. His gaze was sleepy, but a twinkle of the earlier mischief still shined through. Similarly, his skin reflected the warmth of the sun as it clung to the early evening and seeped through the windows. It was lucky that they got to be above ground this time.

The staring lasted a long moment. Like it always did. Then Sam shrugged.

"I know dancing may not be a particular talent of yours-" but before he could finish, Bucky was in his space and the rest of Sam's sentenced disappeared with some of his bravado. Bucky was fast and his sudden closeness wasn't expected given the man's reservations a second ago. The sudden adrenaline that had sparked through Sam's started to fade too. He wasn't scared of his companion, but the man's behavior was largely still a mystery to Sam which meant that sometimes he was caught off-guard.

Bucky raised his right hand out, brow arched expectantly, and Sam took it with caution. The man's other hand rose to hover a few inches above Sam's hip, and it took a few moments before he realized Bucky was waiting for permission. His cheeks warmed and he hoped his complexion made it less obvious. He gently guided the metal hand until Bucky settled it on the jut of his hip, the surface cool and smooth under his soft hold.

"Aren't you a gentleman? Thats that old-school chivalry," Sam teased. Bucky pulled their bodies closer and smirked wryly.

"I aim to please." A new song had started and Bucky briefly tore his attention from the heat he felt spreading along his front. He hadn't danced in a long time. Not like this.

The current song featured a masculine husk crooning affections for the listener. It was accompanied by the distinct, steady tempo of a piano. Bucky felt his body catch the music, the way he'd been taught, quickly adjusting to an appropriate rhythm. Sam followed without much of a pause, finally starting to settle into the feelings of sharing this foreign intimacy with the familiar stranger who was holding him so damn gently. Even so, Bucky gripped him firmly like he'd catch Sam if he even thought about falling.

It was...nice. Nicer than Sam (or either of them, really) had expected. He hadn't been held in who knows how long. He was too busy and had mostly outgrown flings, but it wouldn't be fair to a potential partner if he randomly left on long missions that required little to no contact with those who didn't have the clearance. But that was kind of an excuse. Since everything that had happened, Sam hasn't much felt like having others in his space. He was a social person and owned that, sure. But it was hard to open up authentically as much as he teased Bucky about his tendency to isolate himself. He tries to take the advice he regularly gives to the veterans he takes under his wing. Its enough to sustain his close relationships, including whatever he has going on with One Armed Wonder, but he has little energy to offer anyone else. He has to remind himself that thats okay.

Without thinking, Sam realized he had sunk his head into the crook of Bucky's shoulder. He had started to drift, still following the gentle sways of his partner's body like a boat welcoming the gentle rocking of small waves after a storm. Bucky hadn't said anything, luckily, so Sam remains in his position and enjoys the comforting sounds of soul that has wrapped around them.

He had finally put Bucky onto some real good conditioner after growing sick of the greasy tresses the man sported as the Winter Soldier. No judgement. Its hard to have a solid hair care routine as an international assassin for magic super Nazis. But now, it smelled like honeyed coconuts instead of the scentless, dollar brands he used to buy at random. Even though Bucky's hair was shorter, Sam still caught wiffs of it near his neck. It was more noticeable this close given the man's lack of cologne.

Bucky had noticed earlier when Sam's head dipped into his shoulder. Shortly after, he though he had heard soft snores, but the man's body had otherwise remained upright and solid like usual. He had continued to follow the pattern they'd set, so Bucky had just shifted his hand to his partner's lower back to provide support and kept their pace steady. Otherwise, he lost himself in the heat of Sam's hand and the confusing stillness that had settled in his chest. He felt...anchored. But that was Sam. He was strong and steady, and reliable, but just as capable of sinking as anyone else without the support he inarguable deserved. The support Bucky tried to provide.

Steve was gone now. He'd left the both of them to figure out the aftermath of everything that had happened. Bucky wondered if it hurt Sam like it hurt for him. He didn't blame his Steve; couldn't begrudge him that act of selfishness after all they'd been through. Without Rogers' strong presence between them, they had been left to scramble in the gap and reshape it for two. Sam had his family and Bucky had his therapist, but nobody could understand the them as much as the other, as different as they are. So here they are, slow dancing in a safehouse Rhodes had been generous enough to lend them on short notice. He was amicable towards Bucky, but the generosity was really for Sam. Bucky's neck itched, likely with dried sweat, and he sighed internally. He needed a shower.

The man worked his hand against Sam's lower back instinctually and the other man responds with a questioning hum tinged with sleepiness. Bucky doesnt have an answer so they continue in silence. The song had changed. It was a woman again. She was singing the Blues, if Bucky guessed correctly. He's been picking up more of the music Sam liked. It could be relaxing but full-bodied one moment or rich and thrilling the next.

So far, he has only worked his way up the mid-80s. Sam jokesthat his sensitive hearing isnt prepared for the young and hip tastes that dominate the charts, but he'll still sneak recent artists into his recommendations so Bucky isnt completely "out of the loop." Like always, Bucky would just roll his eyes, but now and again he closes them and try to imagine what Sam felt when listened to the music. Wonders at the connections the man shares with the melodies, and the histories curved into the lyrics. Some things, he couldn't ever understand, even if he tries. So, other times, he just listens.

Now, he's curled over his partner's slightly shorter stature, nose brushing the other man's temple. Sam was not a small man. He was built like a brick house. His upper body was strong, but his lower half was thick with muscle and padded by soft curves of flesh. Probably because he only does legs. Meanwhile, Bucky's own body is near the opposite: wide, sturdy chest that tapers to a firm waist and steady, straight legs. They contrast nicely, Bucky thinks. Filling up the spaces the other doesn't. For two people of their size, they still manag to fit snugly with little space between their bodies. Any closer, and Bucky isn't sure how he'd handle the proximity. He feels lulled into the calmness of the evening that had unexpectedly crept up on them in the quiet of everything around them, save for the music.

The two danced a bit longer, but eventually Sam's body grew too weary after the lack of sleep. With hesitancy, they quietly parted after the final notes of the song slipped from the record player. Bucky turns stopped the music while Sam flops into the nearby couch. His growing exhaustion does not stop him from throwing a smirk Bucky's way which the man met with his regular deadpan stare.

"Not bad. Not a single hip replacement necessary. I'd say thats a success for two old men." Sam quipped. Bucky stayed silent.

"You're not old," he finally said. He hadn't moved from his spot by the record player.

"Hmmm. Well, compared to you, 42 isn't that old." Sam lets his eyes close again but Bucky clears his throat, causing one of them to open in question.

"There's a bedroom upstairs," he explains carefully. They've been on the move for some time now with little time for real rest. If Sam was going to finally sleep then it should be in a real bed, at least.

Sam lets out out a quick laugh, "if you think you can butter me up with a dance-"

Bucky cuts off his teasing with a quick glare. If there was ever a moment being the Winter Soldier has served him, it was now. Otherwise, the heat he could feel trying to redden his ears would send Sam into a fit of hysterics.

"I did a perimeter check when we arrived. There's three bedrooms upstairs. All of them have en-suites bathrooms so take your choice," Bucky grumbles out, avoiding eye contact with his counterpart. The earlier stillness he had felt was slowly disappearing now that they were interacting again. His nerves were more taxed than before. He'll analyze that later. Maybe with his therapist, but she was kind of petty, so maybe not.

Sam's teasing smirk has settled into something a little more kind as he rises frim his seat and crosses the room to where Bucky stands. He roughly claps the other man's arm a couple of times before settling the familiar weight of his hand at the ball of Bucky's shoulder.

"I'm just messing with you, man. Thanks though. That couch would do my back in after being thrown by that explosion. Luckily, you were there to provide some cushioning," he says with that toothy smile. Before Bucky can respond, Sam bids him goodnight and slowly makes his way upstairs. Bucky watches him go, dry-mouthed and slightly confused. Once Sam has completely disappeared from view, Bucky takes in his surroundings and feels the emptiness of the room without Wilson's presence.

He'll do one more perimeter check then turn in for the night. Even he can feel the pullings of sleep. Maybe tonight, he'll dream about dancing.

#Spotify #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #winterfalcon #tfatws #fatws #this was not supposed to be a fic #but it turned into one #mcu marvel #cliche #fics #edit later

50 notes · View notes

hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Official Accounts Part 30 (Bakugo Route)- The Past

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Masterlist

You knock on Katsuki’s door and it opens almost immediately. “Sorry about this,” you tell him by way of greeting. “I already told you idiot,” Katsuki replies in the soft voice he’s always reserved just for you, “you’re always welcome at mine.” He closes the door behind you and then pulls you into a hug. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. You think for a long moment. Do you? How do you even go about explaining what just happened between you and Hawks without revealing secrets that aren’t yours to share? But you deserve to talk this out too. “I do I just need a second to organize my thoughts,” you finally say. “Ok how about you take a seat on the couch, I can heat up ramen for you, then when I come back you can tell me all about it,” he offers. “Homemade ramen?” you ask. “Obviously, dumbass,” Katsuki says with a roll of his eyes as he gently removes himself from your arms and then pushes you towards the couch. “Now go sit down,” he insists. You nod and give him a small thanks before heading to his living room.

By the time Bakugo returns with the promised ramen you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and made yourself comfortable on the couch. You open your arms wide in a silent request for Bakugo to join you. Although he rolls his eyes as if put upon, it secretly makes his heart melt a little that you find comfort in his touch. He sits down careful not to spill the bowl he holds in one hand before passing it to you. He then pulls you closer until you’re almost in his lap and re-situates the blanket around you both. He’s missed this. You’ve always been very cuddly with all of your friends, but for awhile after you two broke up it felt like he’d lost his privileges. Even after you opened back up to him it was never quite the same. Sure when you were upset you knew you could rely on him, but the casual intimacy you shared with Denki and the rest of your friend group had been lost to Bakugo. It was only fair. That casual platonic intimacy was a little too close to the romantic intimacy the two of you had shared when dating. You’d thought it best not to indulge lest you fall back into old habits.

He still remembers the break up like it was yesterday even though it was almost 5 years ago now. It was only a year after graduating from UA. The transition from high school to working life had been hard on your relationship. Bakugo had grown accustomed to seeing you every day during lunch and you’d frequently come to the class a dorm after classes. To go from that to barely seeing each other because of your differing work schedules was hard enough on its own but it also threw his jealousy into overdrive. Suddenly seeing you and Denki curled up on your couch for a movie was enough to have him raging even though he logically knew there was no intent behind it. He was more irritable than usual, his already short temper getting even shorter. It felt like the few times you did get to see each other there was always an argument. Eventually you’d called him after work one day and simply sighed “We need to talk after your shift is over.” It hadn’t even occurred to him that you’d want to break up and yet when he arrived at your place you promptly told him that you feared the relationship was already sinking. Continuing it, you had argued, could do nothing but drag your friendship down with it. He wanted to say you were wrong so badly but he knew you weren’t. So the two of you had ended things, slogged through a few months of it being awkward, and eventually returned to a sense of normalcy in your friendship.

All of that said, Bakugo has never quite gotten over you.

It comes and goes in waves. Most days it’s just an ignorable, dull ache, only painful if prodded. Other days though? Other days the regret is almost overwhelming. Those are the days he calls Deku. The first time he did it was a week after the break up. He probably never would have if not for the fact he was damn near blackout drunk and sad and so very alone in an apartment filled with things that reminded him of you. He had barely talked to Midoriya since graduation, so Deku was understandably confused when he got the call. “I miss her so much,” Bakugo had slurred miserably down the line. It didn’t take a genius to know who he meant and Midoriya had quickly put two and two together that you and him had broken up. “I’m sorry,” was all Midoriya had time to say before Bakugo hung up the phone. That was supposed to be the only time. In fact Bakugo stubbornly refused to call him in the days following that initial call, despite being tempted to several times. Eventually though he caved. He needed to talk to someone about all this. Keeping it pent up was eating away at him but he couldn’t exactly talk to his usual friends about it when all of them were just as close with you. So Deku was his only option. Not only that but Deku was a good option. It didn’t matter how angry or upset Bakugo was, Midoriya was always patient and sympathetic. Sometimes they’d be on the phone for over an hour. Sometimes the call would be as brief as that fateful first one had been. Regardless, it helped. Soon enough the frequency of the calls started to dwindle until they stopped altogether.

Then Hawks asked you to run his Twitter.

At first it was fine. For all Mina’s jabbering on you seemed insistent you didn’t see Hawks that way. But then everyone else was getting in on the action as well and it all just spiraled from there. The night you went on your date with Hawks was Bakugo’s first time calling Midoriya in nearly a year. He texted the group chat confirming that Hawks getting shifts covered for you was indeed a big deal and then immediately afterwards was scrolling for Deku’s contact. You hadn’t dated anyone since Bakugo and while he knew it would happen eventually the reality hurt way more than all the hypotheticals he’d come up with over the years ever did. By now Midoriya knew the drill so he didn’t say anything when he answered the phone, just waited to see where Bakugo would take the conversation. He was not expecting an invitation to grab drinks.

It was odd seeing each other for personal reasons again after so many years. Their only interactions outside of the phone calls had been through work, a stark contrast to the crowded bar they now found themselves in. They started with awkward small talk, as one does with old friends they’ve barely seen, but eventually they started to really talk and Bakugo realized that all of those times he’d talked to Midoriya on the phone not once had he stopped to hear about his life. So he tried to make up for it then, even if it was a little too late. It was kind of nice. Maybe in another life where Bakugo had been a different kid, one who would’ve taken Midoriya’s hand when he fell, one who was a little less cruel, they could’ve been best friends. “So what happened with (y/n) this time?” Midoriya finally asked and it’s a question Bakugo had both wanted and dreaded to answer. “She’s going on a date with Hawks tonight,” Bakugo sighed. “Good for her,” Midoriya had noted and immediately Bakugo’s grip tightened around his drink. “You know it is good for her right?” Midoriya asked. “I know it is. That’s why it hurts so bad,” Bakugo admitted. It occurs to Bakugo now that perhaps that is why he’s been pushing Hawks to do better by you.

He knows intimately the pain of loving you and then losing you.

He wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.

So he listens to you recount your fight with Hawks. He listens with full attention until you run out of steam. When he gives you advice he gives it as a friend, not as an ex or as the man still in love with you. He gives you advice the way he thinks Deku would. He gives you the kind of advice you’d offer him if the situation were reversed. And it hurts and hurts and hurts to know his advice might push you back into Hawks’ arms, but when you pull yourself closer to him, sigh “Thanks Katsuki,” and then promptly fall asleep on his chest, he knows it’s worth it.

Because he loves you.

God, how he loves you.

Author’s Note: I BROKE MY OWN HEART WITH THIS ONE SO NOW YALL CAN BE HEARTBROKEN WITH ME. Anyway I adore the headcanon that Bakugo is a really good cook and I wanted there to be a slight parallel to how (y/n) and Hawks would have tea together but upon googling ramen recipes I realized it would be incredibly unrealistic for Bakugo to make homemade ramen in the time it takes (y/n) to get from her place to Bakugo’s. So instead he reheats what’s leftover from cooking dinner for himself, which I also googled to confirm was possible (it is you just need to make sure you store all the components separately). ALSO writing in Midoriya was a lot of fun. As much love as I think Midoriya and Bakugo have for each other I could very easily see them as being distant after graduation but still knowing they could reach out to each other if need be.

Taglist [open]: @maltese-sparrow @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @captaincyberqueen @ladyzayismultifandom @pixelwisp @cathy8taffy @itskindofafairything @larkspyrr

#hopelessoa #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader

61 notes · View notes

toriwakes · 4 years

Text

Choosing You [George Weasley x Reader]

summary: you and fred were always an unlikely pair. it was too good to be true.

content warnings: cheating, suggestive activities, angsty fluff, some swearing. fem!reader (pronouns she/her)

a/n: hello! i thought of this concept in the shower. i’m actually super proud of it. it was kinda inspired by the people saying that when they shift, fred cheats on them if they don’t script otherwise but...yeah. hope u like it and as always, let me know if you have any requests!

they were so different. too different, some said. she was dedicated, intelligent, reserved. he was loud, always moving, outgoing. no one expected the two to be a match. some accused her of putting him under a love potion, but he assured her that he didn’t need a love potion; he was devoted to her. at first she couldn’t believe it when the weasley boy asked her out- how could she? they were friends, sure. but just like everyone else, she found it mind-boggling that he took interest in her. she accepted though, jaws dropping when they made their relationship public. they went to quidditch practice together, went to the kitchens late at night and even used her prefect powers to get him out of trouble.

so you can imagine the utter shock, anger and confusion when she caught him in bed with another girl.

after what felt like decades, quidditch practice finally ended. she was eager to check up on fred; he must be in so much pain since he was sick. she frowned at the thought. she picked up some of fred’s favorite snacks hoping they would make him feel better. (y/n) did small things like that for him. that’s the type of good girlfriend she is. why wasn’t she good enough for him?

she entered the common room quietly, not wanting to startle her sick boy. when she finally reached the steps to the boys dormitory, she heard faint pants. this actually made her reach the door faster. she believed that fred was having some sort of reaction to the medicine and wanted to help. her hand was on the knob now, but she realized something. the pants turned into moans- she recognized it right away. who wouldn’t recognize gryffindor’s head girl’s voice? before she could stop herself she opened the door and saw exactly what she was expecting to see. fred’s frame covering most of angelina’s. he was still in her. when they finally noticed the girl they panicked. fred’s eyes went wide and he threw the covers over the figure under him, left to cover his manhood with his hands. (y/n)’s head was mad. ‘curse them out! embarrass them!’ it screamed. but her heart was kicking, screaming and sobbing so loud that all that came out of her mouth was a quiet, “how could you do this to me?”

fred was red in the face and angelina had the same look of shock on her face. “(y/n)? is that you?” hermione’s sweet voice spoke. (y/n) ignored her. fred leaped forward to shut the door but (y/n) stopped him. she forcefully shoved him back; now her head was talking. “did you enjoy yourself then?” she shouted. “did you? are you content?!” fred was stumbling back- he could see hermiones flabbergasted face over (y/n)’s shoulder. “answer me! how dare you! you’re up here fucking her while i’m down there worried sick about you, you bastard!” they stayed quiet. “should i be seeing this?” hermione peeped. (y/n) never removed her eyes as she spoke, “hermione you stay right there. i want you to hear and see everything so you can tell everyone how pathetic fred weasley is!” he flinched at your shouting. she didn’t even hear the rest of the team walk into the common room. “i don’t think i need to tell anyone.” hermione scoffed. she waved everyone up, and next thing you know, the entirety of gryffindor house witnessed the scene. (y/n) turned around. absolutely out of her mind, she opened her moth. “welcome to the show! if you look closely you’ll see fred weasley, a poor excuse of a man.-“ she moved so she could shift the attention to angelina. “-and angelina johnson.” she dropped her arms to her side and kissed her teeth in disgust. “a disgrace to gryffindor house.” she spat. now completely turning around so her back was to the pair, she spoke to the small crowd that formed. “take a picture, i hope you all remember this moment. i know i will.” with that, everyone made a space so she could leave, kicking the sweets she brought in that had fallen on the way out. “freddie...” george sighed.

george was mentally cursing out his idiot of a brother. did he forget the bet? the promise they made? about 3 months ago fred noticed (y/n) for the first time. with a cocky tone he whispered to his twin, “i want her.” george felt like punching his brother. he wanted (y/n). and he let it be known. “dude, i want her.” fred shrugged and proposed a bet; whoever swept her off her feet first would get the girl first. fred ultimately won, but george warned him. “you treat her right, okay?” fred promised george that he would. he broke that promise. the twins never break each other’s promises.

no one knows where she went that night. some say she went to hagrid’s hut and she cried like a baby into his bushy beard. others say she went to mcgonagall and the professor gave her outstanding advice. they were good guesses, but wrong. only george weasley knew where she went. he followed her with caution- he was sure the last thing he wanted to see was a replica of what once was her boyfriend. she went to the greenhouses, which made sense. she loved herbology. he only revealed himself when she started to cry. “(y/n).” her eyes were shut from blinking away the tears but she managed to draw her wand and point it at him. “what do you want, fred?” when she opened her eyes, she. realized that wasn’t fred. she was one of the few people who could tell them apart, and she didn’t see fred. she saw george. tucking away her wand, she sighed. “oh. hello george.” she slumped against a nearby column. “hey.” she was gazing into the sky. “you’re not mad i’m here?” he finally asked. “no. why would i be?” she knew exactly why. she just wanted to hear him say it. “well, you know..fred.” she only laughed. “about that..” he trailed. “you know what i realized about him? he’s not a real boyfriend. he only gets girlfriends so he can cheat on them, can you believe that? he grabs girls hearts, and then he just breaks them. and for what, the thrill of it? it’s sad.” she hissed. george shut his mouth. he decided to not defend fred this time. it was his battle and his only. “if it’s makes you feel better, i didn’t know.” “i know you didn’t. you would’ve told me. wouldn’t you, george?” she looked at him now. “of course.” the gingers head was full. he contemplated telling her about the bet. “she deserves to know.” “yeah, i did.” she scoffed. george only just realizing he said the sentence out loud, cleared his throat. “i doubt it’s worth anything, but fred and i had a bet.” she whipped her head to look at him. “a bet?” he slowly nodded. “we both had a crush on you. we said whoever won your heart first, had you.” “you idiots had a bet on my feelings?!” she said, rightfully angry. george looked down shamefully. “i know, it was stupid. look, i know your heart is broken right now but i have to ask...when it’s healed, so you think we could..” (y/n) chuckled. her eyes fixated on the moon, she spoke, “my heart isn’t broken.” “it’s not?” george now spoke with a smirk. “nope.” she popped the ‘p’ with a smile. “does that mean i’ll have a chance to sweep you off your feet?” she shook her head. “yeah.” “cool.” they stood around in silence for a moment. then, (y/n) got an idea. “do you want to go to the lake?” george scrunched his eyebrows. “it’s past hours.” (y/n) looked at him curiously. “since when do you care if it’s past hours?” “touché.”

two weeks was all it took. she was as good as new. she owed george some credit for her quick recovery. they spent endless amounts of time together. “do you wanna do this?” george inquired. he meant go public- show off in front of the entire great hall that you were in fact his now. “you don’t think they’ll think poorly of us?” (y/n) picked up george’s hand and put it in hers. “anyone who thinks poorly of us is supporting angelina and fred’s choices. do you need that type of person in your life?” she asked. george simply smiled and pecked her on the lips. “keep away from her!” they were torn apart by hermione, a look of pure disturbance on her face. “oh! goodness, forgive me. i thought you were fred.” “hermione?” (y/n) said. hermione cocked her head as if to say ‘yes?’ “what would you say if george and i were dating?” hermione’s breath hitched, sounding like a gasp. in a low whisper, she asked, “are you?” (y/n) looked at george. george was already looking at her with a grin. “yeah.” hermione was already smiling, but she smiled brighter and gave the couple a slow clap. “brilliant!”

all eyes were on them. everyone in the great hall had their jaws on the floor as george walked in with (y/n) on his arm, a cocky smirk on his face. they even got looks of respects from slytherins. angelina reacted first, fred right after her. “you’re a slut.” angelia spat. ‘that’s funny’ (y/n) thought. ‘i don’t remember transfiguring myself into a mirror’. gasps erupted from the hall. george lunged forward but she held him back. “you...want to talk about being a slut?” (y/n)’s cold voice was unsettling. without reason angelina flicked her wand, basically punching the girl in the face with a jinx. (y/n) touched her nostril- blood. “george, honey, do me a favor. have a seat.” george sat down at her words. blood on her robes now, (y/n) faced angelina. the girl raised her wand but toria was quicker, muttering a “flipendo!” and knocking angelina back several feet.

of course that was when snape walked in.

he crossed his arms and sucked his teeth. it reminded her of when she caught fred. “i’d love to hear your explanation for this one, (y/l/n).” he had a shit-eating smirk on his face. “and i’d love to give you one, professor. as incriminating as this scene looks- none of it was my fault. angelina verbally attacked me first, calling me rude words that i shouldn’t repeat. then physically, giving me-“ she wiped her bloody nose with her thumb. “-this gem.” snape’s black eyes switched between the two girls. “and everyone here can confirm that.” (y/n) added. several ‘yeah, she’s right’s came from the students. “alright then. 20 points from gryffindor. ms johnson, come with me. (y/l/n), get yourself to the infirmary and stop bleeding everywhere.” snape left with angelina who seemed to have a bruise on her arm. “so that’s it then?” fred spoke now, george putting himself in front of you. “i guess it is.” her boyfriend said. “you know what you’re doing is wrong, right? you can’t date my exes-“ she was going to let george handle it, but now she had to but in. “you don’t have any say in what he can and can’t do! not after what you did. he’s lost his respect for you.” george grabbed his girlfriends hand in attempt to calm her down. “you’ve love your respect for me?” fred sounded sad. george didn’t care. “earn it back once you’ve decided to stop being an ass.”

george was walking her to the hospital wing now. “this won’t get in the way in your relationship with him, will it?” george sighed. “you’re so good, you know that? my brother cheated on you and you’re worried about if him and i will be okay.” you smiled. “i should’ve chose you.” she whispered. “what was that?” george hummed. she spun in her feet and cupped his face, pulling him down so their lips could meet. “im choosing you.”

#george weasley fanfiction #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #harry potter #draco malfoy smut

126 notes · View notes

florrickandassociates · 3 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 5x01- Previously on...

Welcome back!! I’m so excited to be writing one of these again. I think this hiatus has been the longest I’ve gone without new Diane Lockhart content in ten years, and it sure feels like it. A lot of important stuff has happened in the time since TGF season four ended (not concluded—ended). Most notably, CBS All Access became Paramount+ and suddenly started offering a lot of content I care about! I kid. 2020 was quite an eventful year, so I was curious how television’s most topical show was going to take it on. TGF is always forward-looking, but too much happened in 2020 to be ignored. And while I didn’t think TGF would have much to say about the pandemic, it seemed impossible to imagine a season five that pretended it never happened. Going into this premiere, I was expecting that they’d either skip COVID entirely or include very few references, but after seeing this episode, I feel like the writers took the only approach that made sense. And that is why they are the writers, and I'm just some girl on the internet who writes recaps.

Anyway, before I dive into the episode, I should also note that my pandemic boredom spurred me to actually pay $30 to watch this episode early as part of the virtual ATX Festival. Yes, I paid $30 on top of the money I spend every month on Paramount+ for this show. But I write tens of thousands of words about each TGF episode—are my priorities really that surprising? I note this not to brag or even to poke fun at myself, but because watching the episode before I knew a single thing about it (not even the title!) completely changed my viewing experience. I’ve never had an experience like this with TGW or TGF. I’m one to search for critics tweeting cryptically about screeners and refresh sites looking for background extras (haven’t done this in the TGF era, though) and read every single piece of press I can find. For any big episode, I usually know the outline of what to expect going in (I even knew about Will before the episode aired in the US!). Not this one! So, I got to be surprised, and I had to—gasp—formulate my own opinions before I knew what anyone else thought! It was really pleasant, actually. I think the structure of the episode worked extremely well for me because it caught me by surprise... and also because I’m the kind of person who somehow managed to write a college paper about Previously On sequences.

I see Tumblr has made it so that “keep reading” expands the post in your dash instead of opening a new tab. I absolutely hate this. Here is a link to the post you can click instead of the keep reading button!

The ATX stream started mid-sentence, meaning I missed the “Previously On... 2020...” title card and skipped right to Adrian saying “I’m retiring.” It was pretty easy to pick up on the device (the directness of the scenes at the start, their cadence, and their placement in the episode made it clear this was meant to mimic a Previously) but the second title card hit way harder because... well, I had no idea if this was meant to be 2020 or some moment outside of real time until a bit later in the episode.

Man, before I get any farther into this, two things that I don’t know where else to put. First, this episode had to cover so much ground. They had to write out both Adrian and Lucca—more on that later--, figure out how to deal with all of 2020, figure out how to either wrap up or continue all the truncated season 4 plotlines, and set the stage for a new season... in 50 minutes.

Second, just wanna shout out the Kings’ other Paramout+ show, Evil, which you should absolutely be watching even if you hate horror. Evil is a Kings show, so it is unsurprisingly topical (sometimes evil takes the form of racism or misogyny or Scott Rudin) and at times very, very funny. I would be recapping it if Paramount+ weren’t attacking me personally by airing it at the same time as TGF. Ever hear of too much of a good thing, people?! (On that note, I am VERY upset with myself for not having made a Good vs Evil joke about the Good shows and Evil. I didn’t even think about it until Robert King made the joke on Twitter, and it was right fucking there. How did I fail so miserably?!)

So STR Laurie, who wants a 20% downsizing, is still a thing. Noted.

This scene with Landau is the only one in this previously that is actually old footage, right?

Unexpected Margo Martindale! Yay! (Ruth Eastman is a character who is so much more effective on Fight than she was on Wife and I’m quite glad they’ve had her appear on Fight several times. It kind of redeems season seven. Kind of.)

I don’t think the writers intentionally chose for Adrian’s book deal to be with Simon & Schuster because it is the most politically fraught publisher (the number of stories about controversial memoirs they’ve picked up in 2021 alone...) but I kind of like that Adrian’s Road Not Taken involves S&S. My guess is they chose S&S because it is owned by ViacomCBS.

“Years ago, I wanted to create a law firm run entirely by women, but it never worked out. So, why not now?” Diane says to Liz. One of the advantages of having twelve (!!!) seasons of Diane Lockhart is that we’ve seen what she’s talking about. And we’ve seen her put this idea forward multiple times, too. I have my reservations about Diane’s brand of feminism, and I’ll say more about how fraught a Diane/Liz firm would be as the show explores the potential issues there, but on the surface I’m kind of excited about the prospect of a Diane/Liz led firm. Diane has wanted this for ages, Liz is a good partner, and this actually makes sense (unlike the nonsensical Diane/Alicia alliance of late season seven, where the only rationale was “well, Alicia needs to betray Diane in the finale, but they’re not on good terms. So maybe we make them business partners so then the betrayal stings more?”). Plus I fully love that Diane would end up running a firm with Alicia’s law school rival.

(Has TGF mentioned that Liz and Alicia were law school rivals? No. Am I still clinging on to that as a large part of Liz’s character? ABSOLUTELY.)

Julius is on trial for Memo 618 reasons; Diane is defending him. So this is still happening. (There’s more old footage here.)

Do they put these references to one/two party consent in these episodes as a wink at the fans? It has to be intentional. (Please do not ask me what the actual law is on this, this show has thoroughly confused me.)

I knew Cush was filming stuff for TGF, but I didn’t know it was for the premiere. She was just posting about it a few weeks ago, so either they shot a lot of it right before air or she posted a while after filming. Anyway, yay Lucca!

Bianca’s still around. And, TGF gets to shoot New York for New York, since Bianca is there. I do wish TGF could do more location shoots; there’s something about seeing an actual skyline that feels more real.

Bianca wants Lucca, who has never been outside of the country (except to St. Lucia, as Bianca reminds her) to go to London and buy her a resort. It’s supposed to be a three week stay and Bianca’s already arranged childcare. Speaking of children, because of COVID and filming constraints, that’s Cush’s real kid in this scene! You can’t really see him, but I recognized his curly hair from Cush’s Instagram, and the Kings confirmed in an interview.

Adrian wants to write a book about police brutality cases he’s worked on. Ruth very much does not want him to write that book. She wants him to write a book without substance about how white people and black people can work together. He, understandably, has no interest in writing this book. (Also, you can see in the background that Ruth doesn’t think Biden’s odds of winning the Democratic primary are good—there is a big down arrow next to his picture, which definitely dates this scene.)

Oh, David Lee is in this episode. He acts like an asshole towards Marissa when she’s trying to help him.

Marissa, not happy with the lack of respect, calls Lucca for advice “for a friend.” Lucca mentions she’s in London and Marissa does not believe her and keeps going on and on about her frustrations and her new desire to become a lawyer—quickly.

Marissa wanting to become a lawyer because she “hates being talked down to” is not a plot I would’ve expected but it’s also one that makes a lot of sense. I think Marissa’s used to being respected and praised even when she’s doing things that aren’t glamorous, so I see how she’d get very restless when she’s no longer outperforming expectations and is instead taken for granted.

Bells toll in the background on Lucca’s side and Marissa asks where she is. Lucca again notes she’s in London and Marissa still doesn’t believe her.

I’m going to miss Lucca so much, especially since we’ll also be losing a lot of the Millennial Friendship scenes with her. Cush is fantastic (even if she never really got enough to do here) and she plays so well off of the rest of the cast. I even sometimes liked the writing for Maia (who?) when she had scenes with Lucca, Lucca is that good.

Jay wakes up sweating and unable to breathe, so he deliriously calls his father-figure Adrian. This whole scene is shot like something out of Evil and (I’m getting ahead of myself here) this plot is the only thing about this episode I felt was a misstep.

“I think you’re my father,” Jay says to Adrian. Heh, I didn’t catch this line the first time around (maybe subliminally I did, since I just called Adrian his father figure lol) but I love that it is included here. Adrian and Jay’s relationship definitely deserves a goodbye.

Adrian calls an ambulance and also gets to Jay before the ambulance somehow. Adrian notes that Jay might have “this thing from China” and... we’re doing the pandemic, y’all. (Minor nitpick: on March 13th, 2020, when this scene is dated, COVID was not “this thing from China”-- we were all aware of it. March 11th was the day Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson announced they’d tested positive and the NBA shut down and travel was restricted and every single brand that had my email sent me a message about their plans and measures. March 12th was the last time I was in my office, and we’d been getting emails telling us to wash our hands and prepare to work remotely for weeks. I went to San Francisco in mid-late February and distinctly remember deciding to leave a burrito unattended on a table while I washed my hands because I was paranoid about COVID... and then I remember making a specific trip to Walgreens to buy hand sanitizer so that didn’t happen again. My point is, Adrian lives in the same world I do. On March 13th 2020, he would not be treating COVID like it was some new thing he’d vaguely heard of.)

(I am going to nitpick this timeline, but please know that I’m only doing it because I can, not because I think it’s necessarily a bad choice. Lines like this do feel a little forced, but I see the reason for introducing COVID as something new rather than going for the line that’s exactly historically accurate. I also am pretty sure there are references to dates in March/April in s4 of TGF that are now going to be contradicted by this episode, but I truly do not care. The writers get a pass on this one.)

We skip slightly back in time to the beginning of March after the MARCH 13TH title card, or maybe this is supposed to be after March 13th and my own memories are preventing me from believing these face-to-face interactions were happening. Who knows.

Michael Bloomberg is... here, again, I guess? He asks Diane to assist with a Supreme Court case about gun control. I guess it does add some weight to the plot and make the stakes feel higher.

Oh hey, this case is the 7x17 case!!!! Love that continuity.

Diane and Adrian are both at the office late, working, and there is an unnecessary split screen that feels even more unnecessary when you consider that the editing alone was enough to create the parallel.

Diane and Adrian have a nice convo (which I’ll really miss, their dynamic is great and this really feels like a successful partnership) as they wait for the elevator. When the elevator dings, they nearly tumble down into nothingness because... the elevator never came. Apparently this is a reference to an law old show I’ve never seen that killed off a character this way, and it’s meant to be a wink at how they are not going to kill off Adrian.

I do not know why I remember this, but I do: after they killed off Will, a critic (Noel Murray; I just googled to confirm my memory) who didn’t want to spoil things tweeted, “Exactly 23 years and 2 days ago, Rosalind Shays fell down an elevator shaft.” Please tell me why I remember this reference that I didn’t even understand well enough to have tracked down the original tweet in under a minute. (https://twitter.com/NoelMu/status/447942456827326464)

Back on this show, Diane and Adrian share a drink and talk about their wishes. Diane wants to argue in front of the Supreme Court, and Adrian encourages her to speak up. His own near-death experience motivates him to trash the book Ruth has him writing, and Diane trashes the (bad) legal strategy someone else prepared for the Supreme Court.

DIANE IS WEARING JEANS!!!!!! Tbh, I think my favorite part of this episode is how many slice-of-life scenes and settings we get. These are always my favorite moments. I love the satirical and political stuff too, but the character moments are what get me invested enough to write these. (Yes, Diane in jeans constitutes a character moment.)

Diane tells Bloomberg she wants to be involved and advocates for herself. Kurt gets a call on their landline (hahaha) from Adrian.

God, I love Diane and Kurt. Not only is their banter fun, you can just see a different, more relaxed side of Diane in these scenes. Diane tells Kurt she has good news for herself, but bad news for him since she’s arguing for gun control. She asks him to help her prep for court, too.

So this is before Jay is rushed to the hospital, because now we are back at the hospital with Julius, Diane, and Marissa. I do not believe any of these people would be setting foot in a hospital like it’s any other day on March 13th, 2020. But I'm trying not to nitpick.

I get why they chose to give Jay a rather severe case of COVID. I just don’t get literally anything else that follows from the initial shock of Jay having COVID.

I see why the writers chose March 20th (the actual Illinois stay at home order) as the next date for this timeline. I still do not believe that people were in this particular office on that date.

You know what else I don’t believe? That RBL just shut down for two weeks and was like, no work is being done. Did law firms really do this? I can believe it if it’s an excuse to cost-cut, and I know there were massive layoffs, but this seems... really weird???

Why are they setting up a teleconferencing infrastructure (didn’t they have one at LG? In season five?) if they are not planning to do work?

Lol Diane explains what Zoom is, very slowly. She asks everyone to “download a program called Zoom.com” which is one of the first Zoom jokes I’ve chuckled at in a while.

Marissa is not happy to hear that there’s no work for her in a work-remote world (this I believe 100%), so she calls Lucca again with more questions about law school.

Love these NYC and London location shots. Wish they could do that for Chicago.

Lucca asks Bianca to help get Marissa into a law school, fast, and Bianca tells Lucca to use her name... then offers her a job.

Marissa is at the office, alone, boxing up her things, when one of the office phones rings with some dude offering her a spot in a law school class. I guess we are really all-in on this! (Why would Lucca have given a firm phone number not specific to Marissa, though?)

Adrian and his corrupt girlfriend decide to shelter in place together. I still do not understand why he is okay with her being corrupt. I also don’t really understand why they’re going from talking about sheltering-in-place to George Floyd. How did we just skip from late March to late May? Are Adrian and corrupt gf having a conversation about sheltering-in-place two months into sheltering in place?

Okay, I am not doing so good at this no-nitpicking thing. Again, I understand why they need to merge several scenes into one to keep things moving. And I guess they could just be getting around to this conversation.

I’m going to nitpick again, I can’t help myself. How did we just go from a scene of Adrian specifically talking about sheltering in place to a scene of Adrian bursting into a bustling and maskless DNC headquarters room? How!? The only masks in this scene are on TV!! There are like ten people in this scene!

Anyway, more importantly, Adrian tells Ruth off and screams at her that she needs to listen to him instead of acting like she knows the way forward. He is completely right.

Why is travel from London closing down in May 2020? Is it because this scene is supposed to be at a different place in the episode? Liz is asking Lucca to come back home from her three week stay in London (which has now lasted three months but travel is just now closing down), and Lucca’s hesitant to come home.

This is all happening via Zoom, btw. Lucca’s in her hotel, Diane and Adrian are at their respective homes, and Liz is in the office. All of this feels right. There is a chat off to the side of the screen where you can see Adrian and the others discussing how to unmute on Zoom. Very real. Though probably not very real in late May 2020. Feels more like April. I am convinced this scene got spliced in later to help the episode flow because everything in this scene (except the TV footage that definitely was added later) feels like it should be happening in the March section.

Lucca mentions that Bianca offered her a job, and at this point we as viewers know how things are going to go—Lucca's going to end up taking it. Liz types in the Zoom chat that they don’t want to lose Lucca. When Lucca tells them how much Bianca’s offering ($500k/year, go Lucca!), Diane types “Shit.” into the chat. “Shit’s right,” Liz replies. “Yes... What should our counter be?” Diane replies. Lucca is kind enough to point out the messages are not private (again, this feels like March not May) but I think knowing that their reaction to topping $500k is “shit” tells her all she needs to know.

Diane’s background still says that RBL is a division of STR Laurie. Weird how little we are hearing about the overlords except the 20% staff cut.

Liz and Adrian chat and decide the only way to keep Lucca is to make her a partner. Which, yeah, if you’d just made her a partner years ago when you told her she was in the running for partner and then offered it to fucking MAIA, maybe she wouldn’t be considering Bianca’s offer. Lucca is definitely one of RBL’s stars, and I don’t think she’s wrong to feel like they don’t value her enough. They treat her well enough to be upset about losing her, but not well enough to have already made her partner and not well enough to actually give her authority (even though she runs a whole department). I’d be pretty unhappy too. It kind of feels sometimes like they take her for granted, and I don’t know that Lucca is one to feel like she owes a company anything. She’s more of an “I’m out for myself” type.

Madeline and the other partner we’ve seen a few times who isn’t Liz/Diane/Adrian, walk into the office (wearing masks! Which they take off as soon as they enter a room with Liz! Without asking her if she is okay with this! TV logic!) and ask who is replacing Adrian. They think this is a good time to reevaluate having a white name partner of an African American firm, and they are spot on. Liz tries to deflect, noting that Diane is already a name partner and was before Liz even joined, but Madeline and other partner (whose name I really wish they would say so I can stop calling him “other partner”) won’t let up. Their position is that Diane shouldn’t have been made a name partner then—all she did was bring in ChumHum, an account that quickly left the firm. Good point.

“What is this firm if it’s not African American? It’s just another midsized all-service Midwestern law firm, one of 50,” Madeline argues. The other partner says Liz needs to remove Diane and promote two African Americans to name partner. Liz laughs and asks if they mean themselves. Madeline does not—she's concerned about the number of black associates they’re letting go. Liz heads out, but this conversation is very much ongoing.

And I think it’s a very interesting dilemma! There’s a lot of mileage the writers can get out of this, because I don’t think there’s a right answer or a wrong one. It’s all about what Liz decides she wants the future of the firm to be. If Liz chooses Diane, she might be choosing something that works for her personally or that she thinks is a safer financial bet—but she’ll be choosing to work at a firm that can no longer be thought of as a black firm, and she’ll be choosing to move away from her father’s vision for the firm. And since the plot hinges on what Liz will decide rather than what’s objectively the right path forward, there’s a lot of interesting tension there I can’t wait to see.

(My favorite thing about Adrian leaving is that Liz will likely get more to do, especially when it comes to managing the firm. Adrian tends to speak up first, but Liz is more than capable of managing without him and I’m so excited to see what she does when her ex-husband isn’t constantly talking over her.)

Marissa and Lucca video chat with Jay. He’s still in the hospital. One thing that bugs me about how this episode handles COVID is that I never really get the sense that any of the characters are particularly afraid of the virus. Maybe none of them were. But you’d think you’d see a little of that fear, the weird dance of trying to assess others’ comfort levels with masking, etc., in an ep specifically about living through this time. ESPECIALLY since someone they all know and are close to has been hospitalized for MONTHS with this thing! It’s just so weird to go from a scene where people wear masks until they come in contact with other people (when masks matter the most) to a scene of someone in the hospital with COVID.

And now Jay’s weird hallucinations start as his battery dies on the video chat. I really, truly, hated these hallucinations. I was ready to be done with these from the second they started. They’re weirdly shot, they go on for too long, and they feel like the clunkiest parts of Mind’s Eye when Alicia starts having a debate in her mind about atheism mixed with the (far superior) hospital episode of Evil.

I don’t have much to say about these hallucinations except that I hated them a lot. When there’s the reveal that Jay is hallucinating a commerical, I almost came around on the hallucinations because that’s kind of funny and inspired. And then several more hallucinations popped up and they had a round table and Jesus got added to the mix and I was like, nope, this is bad in a very uninteresting way. I reject this.

I feel like the Kings didn’t have much to say about COVID, the actual virus. This episode is definitely more about what the characters’ lives were like during COVID and not the pandemic itself. I think they likely got a lot of their COVID commentary out of their system with their zombie COVID show The Bite (I have not seen The Bite due to it airing on Spectrum On Demand, which I have no way of accessing. Like, I would have to move and then decide to pay for cable in order to watch it.) I also suspect a lot of their commentary on COVID isn’t going to be specific to the virus and is instead going to be about things like mask-wearing and vaccinations becoming political. And, really, that’s just a new variation on talking about polarization... and they’ve been talking about polarization for years.

In fact, they even wrote a whole series about an outbreak of a (space-bug-spread) virus that caused political polarization before Trump was even elected. BrainDead is basically commentary on the pandemic before the pandemic even happened. Soooooo I get why they are more interested in recapping 2020 than in doing a Very Special Episode about themes they’ve been talking about for years. (I still think they would’ve benefitted from at least one character being afraid of getting sick or getting their family sick.)

There is likely some interesting content in these Jay hallucinations. I hate them so much I cannot find it. You know when you’re just on a completely different wavelength than the writers? This is an example of that.

Also I’m not a fan of the shadowy directing. I think this is meant to look cooler than it does.

Have I mentioned yet that I absolutely love the “Previously On” device for this episode? It’s such a fun, propulsive way to get through the slog of 2020. Scenes can be short and to the point, and each scene has to do a lot of lifting to fill in the gaps. I think that leads to scenes that are better constructed and telling on lots of levels—where are people when they’re quarantined? Who’s wearing casual clothes and when? What about this scene defines this character’s life at that moment in time?

Bizarrely, even though this episode is pretty much all plot (this happens! Then that!), I actually found this to be one of the most character-driven episodes TGF has ever done. There’s a lot of story, but most of that story is about how the characters reacted to 2020 rather than overarching plots that will weigh on the rest of the season. This episode covers a lot of ground, but it does it with character moments that resonate.

Now it’s July and Diane’s prepping to argue in front of the Supreme Court. Kurt’s helping her witness prep and it gets a little personal... and that ends up turning Diane on. Good to see McHart hasn’t lost its spark. (Remember how Kurt cheated on Diane in season 7 of Wife? No, me neither, because that never happened.)

Corrupt judge is back. Adrian playfully tries to distract her from work. Then he takes a video call from Liz, who updates him on the conversation she had with John (so that’s his name) and Madeline. I guess that part of May was close to July? Anyway, Adrian isn’t surprised to hear that people are upset at the prospect of Diane being one of two name partners.

Liz is at the office in workout clothes and I love it!

They’re losing 15 black associates (and Adrian and Lucca) and 4 white ones, Liz says. This sounds like a very big problem. (I’d be curious to know what that is as a percentage of the firm and how the racial composition shifts.)

Liz knows it’s not exactly up to her if Diane stays on as name partner (the other partners get a vote, but I think Liz knows she has a lot of sway here). She’s also wondering if Biden could win, and if so, would it be to the firm’s advantage to be black-owned? Interesting.

“Well. If you’re thinking it, then Diane’s thinking it, too,” Adrian says. He’s right. “White guilt. It runs verrrrry deep on that one, huh?” Ha. He is right about that, too. I actually can’t decide which of these interpretations is correct, because it could be either even though they seem contradictory. (1) Is Adrian saying it with a hint of mockery because he knows Diane will fight for her partnership even as she would say she’s a huge supporter of black businesses? (2) Is he saying it because he knows Diane would have enough white guilt to realize what her presence as a partner means and think through the implications? I think it is, somehow, a combination. I’m interested in this line because this whole dilemma (from Diane’s POV) is something that’s very familiar. Diane’s always been an idealist who will betray her ideals for personal gain. That sounds like an attack, but I mean that as neutrally as I possibly can. There are so many examples of this that this is kind of just a character trait of hers at this point. Usually those ideals are about feminism, but this situation seems closely related.

Adrian overhears Corrupt GF talking about Julius, Diane, and Memo 618. You would think she would wait to have this conversation until there is no chance of Adrian overhearing, because if Adrian overhears, he might...

... do exactly what he proceeds to do and hop into a car with Diane to give her a heads up. (I think I’m just going to have to accept that the mask usage rule on this episode is “we use masks to show that the characters would wear them, but we don’t want to have scenes where characters are fully masked because that’s annoying.” If that’s not the rule, then why else would Adrian be masked outside... and then take off his mask as soon as he gets into a confined indoor space with Diane?

Baranski looks ESPECIALLY like Taylor Swift in this scene.

Adrian tells Diane what he knows. He dug deeper after overhearing Charlotte, so he has even more info. “If you tell me, I will use it,” Diane warns. Adrian knows that, so he takes a moment to decide. And he decides that he cares more about Diane and Julius than about his relationship with a corrupt judge.

Diane and Julius are masked in court. Visitor and the judge are not. They use masking in a clever way in this scene: Diane uses being masked to her advantage because it means no one can possibly read her lips, so she can use the info Adrian fed her against Charlotte without any fear of spies. Charlotte, who is unmasked, guards her lips with a folder, as the Visitor watches interestedly.

Diane convinces Charlotte to recuse herself. Charlotte says she’s making a mistake; Diane does not care.

The new judge is, unfortunately, the idiot who doesn’t know anything about the law. Uh oh.

Charlotte decides she’s done sheltering in place with Adrian. He tries to talk through the conflict, but Charlotte says “You made your choice, Adrian. Julius Cain over me.”

“The choice was about right and wrong, Charlotte,” Adrian tries to explain. I mean, yeah, but if you’re dating a judge who has admitted she’s totally corrupt, didn’t right and wrong go out the window a while ago?

Adrian seems to think the other people involved in the events are bad and Charlotte is good. I am not convinced. I don’t think she’s the big bad, but I don’t think she’s good.

Charlotte points out that he invaded her privacy. She is right about that. “You said the choice was between right and wrong. Turning over my emails was the choice,” she said. I get her POV. But also, she is corrupt.

I do not like the way the part of the scene where Adrian physically restrains Charlotte to keep her from leaving is shot. I don’t think this is an abusive scene but I think it should’ve been shot from a little farther back so we could see it’s more like Adrian reaching out in desperation than trying to choke Charlotte. Because it very much looks like he is trying to choke Charlotte.

He tells Charlotte he loves her. She says it’s too late and leaves. “Maybe you won’t be with me. But you keep down this path... you’ll be done, I’m telling you, you’ll be done.”

I think something that I’ve been missing in these interactions is that I didn’t quite realize until this scene that the Adrian/Charlotte dynamic is more interesting than Adrian liking a corrupt judge. I think he truly believes Charlotte is a good person who got caught up in some bad stuff, and that she can bounce back from it. I’ve always seen Charlotte as someone who is corrupt for herself and then ended up going along with the corruption of others, too, so I’ve dismissed her and the relationship. This is the first scene that has felt real to me, and the first scene where she’s felt like more than a caricature. Kind of sad it’s the last she’ll get with Adrian—now I’m actually starting to find her interesting. Notice how in these last few sentences I’ve used her name instead of “Corrupt GF”!

Charlotte says she loved Adrian too, but that’s not enough. Awww.

He can’t really be surprised though, can he?

Now it is August and we get to see Diane and Liz react to the announcement of Kamala Harris as Biden’s VP pick, and I would like to thank the writers for giving me the opportunity to see Diane and Liz react to this. It’s kind of fan-service, but it’s also a nice tie-in to the girl-power theme of the Diane/Liz alliance.

Diane and Liz realize that Adrian’s probably not a good candidate for 2024 if the DNC only wants one black candidate and Harris is the clear front-runner. Liz suggests keeping him on as partner instead, in a way that very much implies this would be her ideal solution. Diane, being Diane, says she was liking the idea of an all-female firm. Liz hesitantly says she was too, and Diane senses the hesitation.

“Let’s look again at which associates to fire. I’m worried we’re losing too many African Americans,” Diane switches the subject. How have they still not made this decision? If any employees know downsizing is coming, and they’ve had months to act on it, assuming there are jobs elsewhere, people would’ve been jumping ship by now.

But that’s not the point of this scene. The point of this scene is that Liz corrects Diane: “Black. You can just say Black people.” Very nice moment underlining the tension. Diane means well, but she’s still acting like a white lady who doesn’t know how to act around black people... and she wants to (and, I guess, already does) run a black firm. Major yikes.

Marissa and Lucca are talking again. Marissa does not want to be in law school—she just wants to be a lawyer. Lucca won’t accept Marissa’s refusal to memorize meaningless rules: “Marissa. I know that you know how to play the game, but you have to pass the bar to get into a position to play the game.” Why does this line make me love Lucca? This line isn’t even anything amazing. It’s just a line that cuts through the bullshit and makes a good point.

Marissa keeps going, insulting all of her peers and teachers, and Lucca figures out how to cut through that, too: she tells Marissa that she’d hire her as a lawyer if she killed someone, but only if Marissa passes the bar. Marissa is instantly intrigued.

“Why are you leaving here? I’ll miss you,” Marissa says.

“Because they won’t pay me what I deserve,” Lucca says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Anyway, I thought they fired you.”

“But they didn’t mean it. It’s like the smoothie place—they kept trying to fire me and I just kept showing up,” Marissa replies. That checks out. (Love the callback!)

Lucca tries to get Marissa to come over to England. Marissa shuts that down as Lucca gets a news alert—and it’s not good news.

Our next date is September 18th, 2020 and I will get my nitpicks out of the way up front! I don’t really know why it is daytime for Lucca when she reads the news, considering it was already the evening in the States when the RBG news broke. And, also, it was Rosh Hashanah, so Marissa probably would not have been sitting in her bedroom studying... she most likely would’ve been with family or friends. OK I’M DONE. FOR NOW.

Diane is getting ready for her arguments in front of the Supreme Court. It’s almost time! She’s in casual clothes but has on a wonderful mask. She’s standing in front of Kurt’s guns to make a point (love that she’s using her video call background to her advantage) and there are several people in her bedroom getting the tech all set up. I have noted before that they only built one set for Diane’s apartment, and it’s just a massive bedroom. Diane choosing to be in front of the guns does a nice job of cutting off my question about why she’d be arguing in front of the Supreme Court from her bedroom rather than the home office she absolutely would have.

Kurt walks in and tries to shake hands... he’s clearly not very COVID paranoid, and Diane seems to be, and... that’s something I might have wanted to see? How was Diane okay with Kurt taking risks that also affected her?

Diane confirms she intentionally chose to stand in front of the guns. That’s when Kurt gets the push notification. He pulls Diane into the bathroom to show her the news. He hands her his phone and Diane’s face falls. She starts tearing up. “2020 just won’t let go,” she says, speaking for us all.

Normally I hate things that are like, we’re going to contrive this so the news hits at the worst possible moment! This works for me, because the Supreme Court plot for Diane feels more like something that exists to be a through line for the episode. It would also be a little hard to work in RBG’s death as a main plot point—and it is definitely important enough to be a main plotpoint—if it didn’t also affect something in the world of the show.

Also, another reason I like this contrivance is that it makes it all the more powerful when Diane says, “It’s over. He gets to nominate someone. Another Kavanaugh! We’ll have a conservative court for the next 20 years. My whole fucking life!” She’s not thinking about how this affects her case (and that case is basically a life-long dream for her). She is thinking about way bigger things, and knowing that her mind goes to the bigger things before the personal with news like this really underlines how big of a deal RBG’s death was.

Diane tells Kurt, “I don’t deserve you. You don’t agree with me.” “I can still feel bad for you,” he responds. He holds her while she cries.

Jay’s hallucination thing is back. Now Karl Marx is here. So is Jesus. I’m so done with this. It’s nice to get a break from writing.

Malcolm X is also on the roundtable and now they’re talking over each other in that way that everyone on this show always does. (RK gave an interview about Evil where he said he likes having the children on that show talk over each other because he grew up in a household like that. I did not need to read that interview to understand that RK likes scenes where people talk over each other.)

If anything happened in those hallucinations, I missed it, because I didn’t pause the episode. Because I do not care about the hallucinations. Because I hate them.

Now it’s November 2020... Diane’s watching election results and rocking back and forth. She tells Kurt he can go watch Fox News in the other room (so they do have more than one room!). He says he’s fine—he thinks Diane needs it more.

“Yes, but Kurt, if you stay, I know this isn’t sensible, but... Trump seems to get more votes whenever you’re sitting on this couch,” Diane tells him. Ha, I relate to this kind of superstition so hard. “Are you serious?” Kurt says. “I am so deathly serious,” Diane responds. “Whenever you’re sitting here, Arizona goes for Trump. Humor me, please. Just go in the other room.”

When Kurt tries to kiss her, she pulls away: “No, no, no. No kiss. If you kiss me, we’ll lose Georgia.” This scene feels so, so real and perfectly captures what it was like (at least for me, though I don’t have a Republican husband or anything) watching election results come in.

“Uh, if you lose, we’ll be fine, right?” Kurt asks. “Kurt, let me just say this. I’m only saying that we won’t be fine so that the universe will grant me a win,” Diane responds. This scene is so fun and so good! It simultaneously captures a relatable mood, adds some levity, gives us a window into Diane’s life, and shows some of the tensions in her marriage?! I want this all the time!

Kurt leaves the room. Diane pours more wine.

Later, with Diane still rocking back and forth with anxiety (just you wait for the several more days this will drag on!), Kurt brings in the champagne. “That was for when Hillary won. I can only drink it if Biden wins,” Diane protests. Did I also refuse to drink any celebratory alcohol until things were absolutely certain? No comment.

“It’s odd you progressives resisted religion. You seem to have a hundred religions to take its place,” Kurt says, speaking on behalf of the writers’ room. (This joke doesn’t get written if the writers don’t believe this and probably even see it in themselves.)

“Go away, Trump. I mean Kurt,” she shoos him away. Have I mentioned yet I love this scene?

“Love me even if you lose?” he jokes (though I do wonder if this isn’t that joking? I think it is, but he keeps saying it!) as Diane gestures at him to get out.

I could do without the joke about Diane’s heart on the TV for a couple reasons. One, it goes on too long. Two, I was very worried something would actually happen to Diane. You’d think that would make the scene feel more tense, but it does not, because it takes me out of the moment.

“Ok, God. You know I don’t believe in you. But I will believe in you if Joe Biden wins. I’m sorry. I know that that’s not what Jesus taught. There’s nothing in the New Testament that says, ‘Believe in me, and I’ll make sure your candidate wins,’ but I need Joe Biden to win. I’m sorry, God, but I just do. I need some faith.” This is a little much but... yeah. Also, is this the first time Diane’s flat out said she’s an atheist? I think it is, though I’ve assumed as much for quite a while.

The next day in court, masks are no longer required if you’re a series regular and votes are still being counted. I remember those days. Marissa thought Diane was checking in on Jay... Diane was not. She was checking on vote counts.

Apparently Jay’s finally being released from the hospital!

Bad news for Julius—the idiot judge finds him guilty of some nonsense charge and sentences him to seven years in prison.

Diane says not to worry, and Julius asks “Why not?” Good point.

Then we have election results! We skip, specifically, to December 14th and the electoral college vote. I’m a little sad we skipped over the huge party that was November 7th, but I get why they’d rather keep things moving along. I think showing November 7th in an uncomplicated way would’ve just been too close to fanservice. But, man, what a day.

Diane, in a red hoodie with leopard print that she somehow manages to still look classy in, is ready to pop champagne. Then she hears that on January 6th, a joint session of Congress will count the electoral votes and there might be a debate. “Nope. If I open it now, something bad will happen,” she reasons. “I’ve waited four years. I can wait another few weeks.”

It’s been almost a year and they’re still somehow negotiating with Lucca, but I understand why they’d space this out across the episode. Otherwise we’d have to say goodbye to Lucca in the first like, 15 mins of the episode and all those scenes would be in a row. I can forgive (and still nitpick) choices like this when the reasoning behind them seems sound.

Adrian says they don’t want to lose Lucca. He, Liz, and Diane are all in the conference room, and they ask Lucca for a yes or no on their latest offer by the end of the call. Diane offers Lucca partner—she'll be the youngest partner in the firm’s history—and she’ll get a $500,000/year salary. Adrian tries to sell her on being part of American history by being part of the firm.

“We are a black firm, Lucca, and we need you,” Liz says with a lot of passion for someone who knows she might very well partner with Diane. Diane looks at Liz with a bit of suspicion at this, wondering if Liz is showing her cards.

Lucca manages to make the wifi malfunction (or she gets very lucky) and uses the disconnection to call Bianca for a counteroffer, even though they said they needed a yes or no on the spot.

“They used George Floyd because they want you for less. They have never appreciated you as much as I do. All those scars, all that time being taken for granted and undervalued has made you a fighter. It’s made you someone I now want,” Bianca tells Lucca. She gives Lucca a counter offer of $1.3 million and the title of CFO. Lucca takes it. Is there really another choice? (If she were concerned about loyalty to the firm and the partnership was what she wanted, she probably would've just taken it.)

(Also, the partners can’t really act like Lucca is making history by being the youngest partner ever when they passed her over for partner two years earlier and offered it to Maia! To MAIA! Who had like three years of work experience! And yes I was fine with Alicia and Cary getting partnership offers with four years but, one, that was a scam, and two, Alicia and Cary actually worked. Oh, I see I still hate Maia with a passion. Back to THIS season...)

Lucca apologetically informs Marissa she’s leaving and the offer was just too good to turn down. I believe it. I also believe Lucca wants that job more. What has loyalty to RBL gotten her? She's someone so talented and good at her job that she just gets job offers from acquaintances all the time (starting with Alicia!). RBL appreciates her, but just enough to appease her while still undervaluing her. I don’t know that I would’ve believed a plot where Lucca actively job hunts, but I definitely believe this.

“Marissa, we don’t have to work together to be friends,” Lucca tells Marissa. I’m going to miss this so much. Why is this the best material Lucca’s gotten in ages?! I think one of the things that makes Lucca such a great character is that you can see why everyone instantly wants her on their team. She’s a fantastic friend (without giving too much of herself), she’s not a pushover, and she is incredibly sharp and able to get to the heart of any situation. I love her and I’m sad we won’t get to see more of her.

(On that bit about friendship—I can’t write about Lucca’s departure without writing about the moment I realized just how great of a character Lucca was. It was in 7x13, when Alicia has her breakdown that’s seven seasons in the making... and Lucca supports her. But the writing, and Cush’s performance, never make it feel like Lucca exists to be a part of Alicia’s story. Lucca seems like her own fully formed person who happens to be supporting Alicia at this moment. I don’t think I can overstate how tough of a task it is to get me to care about the other person in a pivotal Alicia scene, especially when that other person was added to the cast in the final season and many suspected she’d just be a replacement for a different beloved character! Anyway, Lucca’s been great for years, and I’ll miss her.)

Just when I thought I couldn’t hate the hallucinations more, we get a hint that they are going to continue: Jay sees one right after he learns that Marissa’s used her quarantine to start law school and he’s done nothing.

Jay says he carries a gun now and it’s “performative.” I have no idea what that means and Marissa and Lucca don’t seem to, either.

Another thing I like about Lucca’s final scene is that it isn’t rushed. We have time for all that, and also for Lucca to tell Marissa about the time she stole her breakfast sandwich, and for Marissa to react to it, and for Marissa to find Lucca’s Birkin bag, and for Lucca to tell Marissa to keep it, and for Marissa to react to that, and for Lucca to sappily say “think of me when you use it,” and for Marissa to nonsensically reply, “you think of me when I use it,” and there’s still a little bit more of the scene after that!

Marissa’s silly line makes Lucca tear up. “God, I’m gonna miss you guys,” she says. “I’m gonna miss this. You make me smile. I didn’t smile much before you guys.” Awwwwwww. This is also so true to character! Her friendship with Alicia aside, Lucca’s definitely said before she’s not one to have friends (which is hilarious because she is, as I've said like 100 times, a fantastic friend and also just like, the coolest person??? Who wouldn’t want to be HER friend?!).

She says she has to go because she’s getting too emotional and says goodbye. She’s also super sappy and when Marissa says, “you were the best,” she responds that they were the best TOGETHER! Awwwwwww.

What a nice, fitting goodbye for Lucca. There’s no bad blood or fireworks—she just makes a change like a lot of people do. I’d like to think she’ll still be friends with Marissa and Jay after this. I don’t want too many Lucca references in future episodes, but I would really like it if we see Marissa and Jay update each other on the latest from Lucca, or if a scene begins with Marissa closing out an Instagram post from Lucca of her kid, or something. I wouldn’t want clues about what Lucca’s up to, but I’d love to see that she’s still a part of Marissa and Jay’s lives.

Now it is January 6th. Liz, Adrian, and Diane sit on the floor of the mostly empty office, watching TV coverage and drinking. It’s so relaxed it’s almost surreal, and it, like many other moments in this episode, feels like a slice of life. Everyone’s dressed casually and no one is worried about appearances or looking like the boss.

“God, have you ever seen anything like it. It’s so fucked,” Diane says. Adrian’s more optimistic—the courts rejected most of the challenges to election results! “System worked,” he says. “Yay.” Liz says in response. She’s not as optimistic as he is.

“Liz. Liz. Sometimes when things work out, there is no parade. There’s no congratulations, but I’ll tell you this: We live to fight another day,” he explains to her even though she makes a good point that a system just barely hanging on doesn’t bode well for the future. (She doesn’t say all this, but that’s a very loaded, “Yay.”)

“Yeah? Then why are you leaving the law?” Liz asks. Diane seconds to the question.

Adrian announces he’s still retiring—and he’s moving to Atlanta. He wants to go to the south to help “create and consolidate political power.” He’s excited to start over and inspired by Georgia going blue. This is a very nice exit for Adrian. I fully believe that he’s interested in political organizing, that he’d be good at it, and that he’s ready for a change. I don’t think he’s always the most progressive person (of the three in this scene, Liz is absolutely the most progressive one, though Diane probably thinks she is!), but I absolutely think he thinks of himself as an activist and I believe that if he’s going to step away from the law, he’d do so to make a move like this.

Adrian—and Lucca, but especially Adrian—probably both got better exits thanks to the events of 2020. If Adrian had just left to be groomed by the DNC, that would’ve been a predictable and boring ending for him. His candidacy would, obviously, go nowhere, and the whole thing felt weird from the minute it was introduced. But this? Adrian being energized—like so many others were—by the ways the world changed in 2020 and using his already announced departure from the firm and recent breakup as a chance to start over and make change? This is great!

Adrian asks Liz and Diane what’s next for them. Liz says that she thinks the Biden admin will be better for black businesses. Adrian asks if they’re replacing him, and Diane says, “I think the big question is, are you replacing me?” She’s smart. I like how this scene goes from friendly to tense very fast, with everyone kind of testing the waters. Adrian tries to force the conversation, Liz opens with something vague yet pointed, and Diane speaks what’s previously been unspoken.

Liz says it’s not her intention to push Diane out. “I can’t change the color of my skin,” Diane replies. “I know,” Liz laughs. Audra’s delivery is fantastic on that line.

“Hey, I’m gonna fight for my partnership,” Diane says. “I know,” Liz says. The tone of this scene is so different from previous partnership drama on these shows and I’m excited about it. This is just a bunch of adults talking about business decisions with each other and treating each other as equals?? It's not backstabbing?? Or drama?? No one is hiding things?? It’s refreshing and I hope this plot stays like this. We’ve done so much partnership drama that I think drama that stems from a real, pressing question that has no easy answers and isn’t anyone’s fault is going to be much more fruitful for the show.

Adrian heads out—ah, I see now this scene is set in his empty office and this is why they are on the floor—and gets a nice last moment with Diane. And then they give him a last moment with Liz, which I knew they would but was still glad to see.

Liz asks if he knows what he’s doing—he says he’s not sure.

Adrian asks if Liz knows where she stands regarding Diane. “It’s going to be interesting,” Liz says. I don’t think she’s decided what she’s going to do yet.

It wouldn’t be an Adrian and Liz scene if Adrian didn’t have some unsolicited advice. “Diane’s a terrific lawyer, but this firm belongs to you. Your dad built it. He did, Liz. Despite all his faults. You got to run this place the way you want. This is a black firm. And after today, the world needs black firms. You got me?” He tells Liz. He makes it seem like Liz gets the choice and then tells her what to do. She says, “I got it,” signaling she understood him but not that she necessarily agrees.

I cannot wait to see what Liz does next!!!!!!! About this but just in general!!!!! Without Adrian there giving her constant advice I feel like she can grow so much and the show will have to give her more to do!!! I think Adrian, for all his many wonderful qualities and all he brought to the show, can suck all the air out of a room with his charisma, and Liz usually ends up suffering as a result. She’s such a capable lawyer in her own right, but Adrian has a way of making it always seem like he’s right—even in arguments she wins. I’m excited to see Liz lead (or stumble at leadership; she is fairly new to management) without Adrian’s direct influence.

Liz walks Adrian out and it’s cute. They run into Marissa and Jay. “Everybody fun is leaving,” Marissa notes. Liz is minorly offended, but playfully. Heh.

Adrian asks Jay how he’s doing; Jay says he’s a long-hauler but he’s doing okay. I like that they included that moment in Adrian’s goodbye sequence. It’s a very little thing, but it underlines that Adrian cares about Jay.

Then Liz interrupts to note that Trump pardoned a lot of convicted and corrupt Republican officials....... including Julius.

Everyone celebrates, but especially Diane and Marissa. Diane lets out her wonderful laugh and then we, finally, get to the credits. Because now that the previouslies are over, it’s time for the real show.

The credits are absolutely delightful, btw. I was a little worried some of the kittens would blow up, though! Once I relaxed and realized what they were up to—literal puppies and kittens because Biden won—I couldn’t get enough of these credits. They work so well because they accurately capture the way I (and all of these characters, except maybe Julius and Kurt) feel about the election results, but it’s so exaggerated that you know the kittens and puppies aren’t a realistic representation of our new reality. They’re just too good to be true, but you may as well enjoy them for a minute. I’m sure we’ll be back to exploding vases next week.

What a great episode! My timeline nitpicks and whatever they’re trying to do with Jay aside, I was blown away by how well the writers managed to move on from season 4, tie up loose ends, and write out two main characters. And they did it all while making me revisit the events of 2020, a year I don’t think many of us want to spend much time thinking about! This episode was enjoyable, fun, emotional, and clever. I don’t know what to expect from the rest of the season, but I’m definitely excited about the show in a way I haven’t really been in quite some time.

This season’s naming convention seems to be titles that end with ... and only have the first word capitalized. I want to see more.

Season FIVE? There have already been as many TGF seasons as there were TGW seasons prior to Hitting the Fan?! Time flies.

Please writers: No topical episodes this year-- no pee tape, no Melania divorce, no Epstein. None of that business.

Sorry if I repeated myself here. I never proofread these things, and I wrote half of this on Saturday and half of it today (Wednesday) and the days in between were an absolute blur so I cannot remember if I said the same things about this episode twice.

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

16 notes · View notes

lumau · 3 years

Text

Here is another puzzle piece of the Froststorm vintage arc. Some day soon I will come up with a title, I promise.

mild warning for mentioned transphobia

❄🤍🖤❄

“Lord Li Ming, I am sorry to disturb you. His majesty the king would like you to receive this, please.” The bow with which the servant handed him the small black box could not quite hide the curiosity with which she eyed him. A curt and polite, but clearly dismissive “Thank you” from Li Ming discouraged any further interest though and she quickly left.

After the first few days in Marseille Li Ming was convinced that, regardless of what he said his intentions were, this was a holiday home to Ao Shun, a space where he could deviate somewhat from courtly customs and protocols, allowing himself more freedom and extending that leeway to his servants as well. And the business he was building up for himself gave a good cover - so far Li Ming had spent most of his time here accompanying Ao Shun to exhibitions, galleries and museums, so they could gather information on the local culture and art scene. The ship tours around the old harbour and to the Île d'If were necessary as well, so that they could give knowledgeable recommendations to potential visiting business partners. As were the dinners at the city’s most renowned restaurants of which Ao Shun insisted on trying a new one every evening. It did make sense. And yet…

Li Ming had never had any interest in joining the other courtiers and staff in their seemingly endless discussions of interpersonal relationships. He rather focussed on his work than on how many people of which status had been sharing minister Zhong’s bedroom of late. Still, he was an intent observer and knew how these situations usually played out. Li Ming was also not oblivious to the more or less subtle cues in the king’s behavior. He knew how it had to look, and why it would be food for gossip, something he generally did his best to avoid providing.

He opened the presentation box, and found a pair of matte black cufflinks on a white silk cushion. They were simple and exquisite. He toyed with them for a moment, absorbed in his thoughts. Then he found it was probably a signal for him to get ready for dinner.

His wardrobe had proven to be put together according to his preferences, just like his rooms. Li Ming was particular about his clothing, but every piece fitted perfectly. While the cut was that of the latest local fashion, he could recognise the work of the royal tailor, who, of course, was well accustomed with his needs and style.

The splendid three piece dinner suit, light grey with the slightest natural shimmer to its fabric, had seemed a little over the top for all his appointments so far. Li Ming considered it for a moment, then, with another look at the new cufflinks and the twitch of a smile on his lips, he took it out and began to dress.

Tonight the location for their dinner was one of the most exclusive gentlemen's clubs, members only - a dinner table had been reserved for them by recommendation from another art collector Ao Shun had met at an event some days ago. Their waiter had shown them to their table in a discreet corner. Li Ming wondered what assumptions he might make about them, but didn’t bother giving it too much thought. He had brought his notebook, and informed his lord about dates for upcoming auctions with some potentially interesting items, when the wine and hors d'oeuvre were served.

After sampling and approving the wine, Ao Shun raised his glass, and Li Ming mirrored his gesture.

“Ah”, Ao Shun set his glass down again after a sip, and smiled, “Let me see them properly again.”

When Li Ming inclined his head in incomprehension, Ao Shun reached across the small table and took hold of his hand, pulling it slightly towards him to expose his cuffs under the hem of his suit jacket. ‘Alright… apparently touching hands is a thing that keeps happening now.’ Li Ming thought slightly giddily.

“Yes, I knew they would be perfect for you.” Ao Shun said, clearly pleased, and continued to drink his wine.

The thoughts began racing in Li Ming’s head. For some reason, Ao Shun was still holding his hand. What did he expect him to do now? His grip was not demanding, it was simply casual and warm. Could he move his fingers to return the gesture, and acknowledge the touch? But what if there was no intention behind it? It would seem quite inappropriate. Yet, if this actually was Ao Shun making soft advances to him, and he simply remained completely impassive, he might interpret it as a rejection. And while he could not say what was going on or what he wanted, he knew that he did not want to reject him.

The waiter made the decision for him, when he approached the table to politely inquire whether everything was satisfactory. Ao Shun’s hand smoothly moved over to his glass of wine instead, and Li Ming quickly pulled his back, aware that his cheeks must have turned deep crimson.

After the interruption, Ao Shun changed the subject back to the upcoming auctions, and no more hand holding entailed. Food was served, glasses refilled and the evening unfolded rather pleasantly.

When the king wished to leave, the driver was notified and their waiter accompanied them to the door. As a professional, he had clearly picked up on the hierarchy between them, and addressed Ao Shun exclusively.

“Monsieur Ryu, we appreciate your visit, and hope that we will be able to welcome you as one of our esteemed members in the future.” The slightest change went through his expression, as he leaned almost unnoticeably closer. “I am aware that you only just arrived in Marseille, so please allow me this small advice. Next time, Monsieur should want to consider the company of a different associate.” Ao Shun stared blankly at him with the attention that a great tiger might give to a mildly distracting fly that had just landed on his piece of meat. When he did not get any reaction, the waiter added emphatically, “This is a gentlemen’s club, Monsieur.” Li Ming felt the air grow cold around him. He knew where this was leading, and he hoped against hope that Ao Shun either didn’t, or let the matter drop and leave. A small frown appeared on the king’s forehead. “Li Ming is from a noble family,” he said with an air of growing annoyance.

“Ah, excusez-moi, Monsieur. There is no doubt about that, of course.” The waiter bowed, and Li Ming almost breathed a sigh of relief, as Ao Shun gave a dismissive nod and turned to leave, when he continued, “Monsieur, you must see though that there are limits. We had complaints from our members this evening. You will understand, I’m sure, that this is an exclusive establishment.”

As he grew even colder, Li Ming saw the flare of red in Ao Shun’s eyes and felt the tingle of static in the air. He had gotten used to running into more or less irksome issues in public human locations, but it was always unpleasant. Whenever possible, he generally just avoided them. It would be best to simply leave now, and not get drawn into an uncomfortable discussion. Raising a storm on the building would not make things any better either. He unobtrusively took a step forwards into Ao Shun’s field of vision.

“Mr Ryu, the car is outside now.” he politely addressed him with the agreed upon alias.

He avoided looking at the waiter, just like he had ignored him in turn throughout the evening, and did his best to keep his face impassive. Ao Shun’s heavy gaze shifted to him, and a roll of thunder sounded from outside. Li Ming did not want to show any sign of weakness, which was much more difficult when it felt as if the king was looking right into his core. ‘Don’t cause a scene. Please, just leave already,’ he mentally tried to urge him. After a long, awkward silence, Ao Shun turned swiftly towards the door and with a single, angry snort left the room. Li Ming followed right after him, not dignifying the bowing waiter with any sign of attention.

Outside he took a deep breath and with a sigh of relief he quickly entered the car, before the already lashing rain could get to him.

Li Ming fell heavier than usual into his seat opposite Ao Shun. The air in the small room was thick with pressure and ozone, and he felt the king’s piercing gaze on him.

“I will level this place to the ground,” Ao Shun snarled, and the thunder echoed in his words. In the privacy of the limousine his scale patterns were gleaming on his skin now, and his elongated claws were balled into fists. “Those wretched minions! How dare they question you? The audacity!”

“Please, your majesty, you should not need to be bothered by this matter. It has no significance,” Li Ming said appeasingly, “Those humans don’t matter.”

“No significance?”

The fury rang in Ao Shun’s voice and made Li Ming avert his eyes. He felt suddenly exhausted, and lacked the focus to deal with the raging king. He simply wanted to forget about the incident and not waste any more energy on it. “They don’t matter. But you do.”

Li Ming looked up in surprise, and met Ao Shun’s gleaming eyes. Beyond his grim frown lay a deep concern that Li Ming found difficult to bear. He bit the side of his mouth hard, struggling to maintain his calm composure. He felt exposed and weak under Ao Shun’s intense scrutiny. And while it made him uncomfortable and he had to keep his hands from trembling, a part of him wanted more of that care he felt directed at him. He had spent so much time in Ao Shun’s company. He trusted him probably more than anyone. But it was quite different to feel so vulnerable around him.

For a long moment, only the motor and the heavy drumming of the rain against the outside of the car was to be heard. Li Ming’s throat was dry, even if he had known what to say, he probably wouldn’t have brought out a word.

Then Ao Shun blinked, and with a somewhat resigned sigh he sat back in his seat again. Li Ming felt both relief and pity at the break of their connection. They sat in silence for the rest of the ride, and while Ao Shun stared broodingly out into the rain, Li Ming tried to divert his thoughts by recalling the warm feeling of his hand on his own.

#the invisible library #froststorm #li ming #ao shun

13 notes · View notes

drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Comprehension︱Yandere Shinsou Hitoshi x f!Reader

Anonymous asked: “Could you write a one shot where the reader (female) is mute and gets kidnapped by yandere Shinsō who just thinks the reader is trying to avoid his quirk.”

a/n: *IMPORTANT* So, I had to do quite a lot of research for this oneshot to be medically correct. For the sake of clarity, the reader is depicted with Broca’s Aphasia, a branch of a speech impairment that lets them understand what people are saying to them, but are unable to form a verbal or written response. This can happen due to stroke or injury. I am in no way romanticizing this condition, this is a work of fiction and I don’t believe in these glorifying ideas in real life. Aphasia is a serious medical condition and should be treated as such.

Thank you to @theladyshinigami for helping me work out the outline to this oneshot, your assistance is always much appreciated <3

Warnings: mild violence, swearing, mentions of injury, imprisonment, angst, gen. yandere themes

7k words

“The only person getting in your way is yourself.”

A distinctive earthy aroma permeated through the air, the soft pattering of raindrops colliding with the rooftop foundation around him. Perched atop a ledge, overseeing the idle backstreets of the residential area he was appointed to patrol, Shinsou’s eyes landed on a crouched form on the streets below.

The last time he heard your voice was in the final school year before joining UA, the both of you planning on enrolling in the general studies course there. He was paying no mind to your counterargument―one he’d heard plenty of times before. You insisting that he’d become more than what some nonsensical individuals made him out to be, him blowing off the sentiment due to a long established complacency over the occurrence.

He fought with you over it, much to your dismay. In a fit of frustration you stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving him to brew in his displeasing thoughts. Now however, he wished he ran after you. Apologized for acting so insensitive, making a point to thank you for believing in him and lending him advice with only good intentions when others would cower in prejudiced suspicion.

The next morning he went to class as normal, except you weren’t there. The teacher explained you’d moved schools and wouldn’t be returning. He never got to say goodbye, the last interaction with you being one filled with undeserving ignorance against your warmhearted nature.

Now a full fledged pro hero, having trained relentlessly to become everything you sought to bring out in him, Shinsou remained motionless in the steady stream of rain. Not even the darkness of the 2 am night could mask those undeniably identifiable features.

That soft smile gracing your face, gentle and welcoming. He followed your gaze, laughing slightly in disbelief. Not just at how out of nowhere you appeared back in his presence, but at how you’d also managed to find his adventurous outdoor cat.

The two of you were protected from the downpour by a bus stop shelter, the metal frame being overtaken by wildly growing vines. His cat was perched atop the wooden bench, and you’d positioned yourself to be perfectly eye level with the affectionate feline.

If he wasn’t currently experiencing an intense wave of recollection having found that you were alive and well, he might be able to fully appreciate the sight for what it is―heart wrenchingly adorable.

Of course he found his cat cute, but you were on another playing field entirely.

He noted with fondness that at least outwardly, you appeared just as entrancing as the day you left him. With age brought new reasons for him to be enraptured with your being, maturity allowing new, equally soft features to shine through. Although shamelessly taking the time out of these ungodly hours to pet a wandering cat, it showed that you still held that same sense of innocence.

When you were younger, that trait had him deeply worried at times. It left you skittish in the wake of those who took advantage of your unassumingly positive approach to life. Of course he never treated you so wrongly, especially after you’d proved how the functionality of his quirk didn’t phase you.

But he never was there for you as much as you were for him. Shinsou didn’t really bother to ask you just how you were doing, if you were dealing with being treated in such a way all the time. You always made a point in making sure he was okay, but something always held him back from doing the same with you.

It was a level of intimacy he wasn’t quite ready for, no matter how much you conveyed your comfortableness with him.

Does she even remember me?

Giving a final few offers of attention towards the feline, Shinsou watched from his spot on the rooftop as you stretched out to be standing. Your black umbrella, already wet with rainwater from being used just minutes ago, popped open in quick succession. Carefully, so as not to step in the deep puddle of water forming in the indents of the sidewalk, you strided out from underneath the small shelter.

Regret for his past behaviour kept Shinsou at a distance as you turned away. However, the allure of wanting to see just how you’d grown in ways he hadn’t yet observed since he last was graced with your presence kept that distance unchanging.

With each of your steps away, he met with his own advance. Trailing you from the rooftops, Shinsou watched over your form, unconsciously guiding him further into your life. And, as it turns out―your apartment.

Judging the surrounding area, your home was just five blocks from his own. How long had you gone unnoticed, living day to day alongside of him yet somehow still so far apart?

Ever so slightly, he could see your frame shivering from the chill that the rain brought on. He hadn’t acknowledged his own discomfort, being far too occupied with your sudden reappearance. As you let yourself into the complex, Shinsou ran a hand through his damp indigo locks, attempting to ground himself with the information of your existence.

Having nothing of yours left to take in, not unless he wanted to make his own existence known to you, he resigned his duties for the night. With a brief phone call to his agency, the area was kept guarded with a fresh pair of eyes, allowing him to return to the sanctuary of his own home.

His cat was awaiting his return, pawing angrily at the door which was adorned with scratch marks at the base from similar occurrences. He ruffled the fur atop its head, earning a reflexive shake to remove the built up dampness from the cat.

Calloused hands slid a key into place, unlocking and pushing the door open for his pet to enter. It moved past his own advances with disregard for the risk of him tripping over its small body, Shinsou mentally cursing himself for letting the adventurous being out in the first place. But then again, it did allow him the opportunity to see his two favorite girls spending time together―so maybe the disrespectful behaviour could be forgiven.

The warmth that electrical heating provided did not go unappreciated, a stark contrast from the chill of the night air. Yet although the sensation was welcoming and capable of calming his mind, Shinsou could not simply return to the routine of basking in its comfort after a grueling and extensive shift.

You were out there, completely unaware of him―and he didn’t want things to remain that way. Even if he didn’t directly approach you to learn of the ways you’d spent all those years apart from him just yet, Shinsou still had to know more.

_____

You worked at a bar. Fairly low in traffic and on the edge of town, but a decent establishment nonetheless.

Call it impulse, but Shinsou couldn’t contain the urge to distantly concern himself with watching over you as you made the trek to your job. He respected it―the occupation you’d taken up. Although he didn’t observe you in action, he figured you worked as a waitress or something of the sort. The position made good money, and he knew you could fill the requirements with your kind attitude.

However, he wasn’t as fond of the idea that it was likely you’d experienced some unpleasant customers. It comes with that sort of job, and he was all too aware of the defiling thoughts people had, and thus the actions that resulted from them.

That was what got him to swallow any apprehension to meet you face to face. At least if he was in the bar, it’d make it easier to help you if someone came on a little too strongly.

Shinsou reserved the next possible moment to be devoid of any hero work. He sat down in the bar, ordering a drink to stave off the budding anxiety of finally meeting you after such a long time of being apart. He planned to play it off as coincidence―showing up after a long day, and just so happening to stumble into the bar you worked at.

But he never got the chance to. Shinsou could’ve sworn he saw you enter the building, but after sitting in the same spot for three hours, he never laid eyes on you.

So he did the next best thing.

Patiently, he leaned against the rough brick wall outside of the bar. A few moths batted against the artificial lighting above the heavy metal door to the back exit. The spot where he stood was illuminated with an orange glow, dissipating down the alleyway. Impatiently, checked the digital watch on his wrist.

The door’s handle creaked under the influence of someone turning it from the other side. Shinsou’s eyes shot in its direction, widening slightly as he pushed away from the wall.

Slowly, you stepped through the threshold, an exhausted sigh escaping your lips as you nudged your bag up your shoulder.

The moment you met his anticipated gaze, your own expression formed into a content disbelief. The door shut behind you with a thud, you remaining in one place as he made the first move to speak after clearing his throat.

“I, uh...I saw you, yesterday. On patrol―you were walking out of the bar so I assumed you worked here...You remember who I am, right?”

A wave of relief washed over him as you nodded, that oh so gentle and familiar smile enveloping the soft features of your face. You didn’t say anything, and he figured you were just too much in shock to respond.

Shinsou continued, “I ended up joining the hero course at UA―even have my own agency now. You were right about me, those assholes didn’t know what they were talking about.”

A swell of warmth enveloped him being back in your presence, and with being able to regard those kind eyes again, looking proud for his accomplishments.

But you still didn’t respond.

A crease formed between his brows, a once friendly smile faltering in confusion. If you looked so happy for him, why weren’t you talking back?

You always, always responded to him. Even when he was in a sour mood, you stayed consistent in your acceptance that although his quirk could be used for malice, it wasn’t something he’d ever do.

“Y’know, sometimes I get so sick of the way you act―self-deprecating no matter how much I tell you things won’t always be like this. And honestly ‘Toshi, it’s starting to rub off on me a bit!”

The argument was crystal clear in his mind, your words repeating inside his head as if you’d just uttered them in the present moment.

That was impossible though. You hadn’t said a single word, just standing in front of him in silence. He knew you understood what he was saying.

Only one explanation made sense―it was his quirk that was keeping you from talking.

As Shinsou’s expression fell with feelings of betrayal corrupting his previously relieved feelings, the look on your face changed as well. Like you hadn’t realized your mistake, you presented conflictingly.

You looked like you wanted to say something, but no words came out of your mouth.

The door behind you bust open, a few bar workers spilling out, sporting obnoxiously loud chatter. What appeared to be the ringleader of the group noticed the exchange taking place between the two of you first.

“(Y/n)! This your friend or something?” He slung an arm around your shoulder, the action putting a small grimace on Shinsou’s face. You looked up at the man, nodding while shifting uncomfortable under his weight.

The strangely affectionate worker regarded him, “Nice to meet you, dude! We were just headin’ out for some drinks―you’re more than welcome to join seeing as you’re all buddy buddy with this pretty lady.”

Shinsou gritted his teeth in irritation, feeling majorly uneasy with the developing situation, and with the worker’s behaviour. He didn’t take his eyes off of your shied form as he spoke. “Uh...I don’t really like crowds, sorry. Maybe another time.”

While that wasn’t a lie, his dejection was mostly a result of his stirred up emotions over your uncharacteristic behaviour.

“Uh...Alright then―see you around, man!”

The group dragged you along with them, forcing Shinsou to side step out of the way. As they stumbled out of the alley, he caught the way you looked back over your shoulder. For a brief moment your eyes locked, and he could’ve sworn he saw your mouth open as if to say something―anything.

Still huddled with the other bar workers, you disappeared from his sight as you exited the alleyway.

He stood there, immobilized with a torrent of how’s and what if’s racing through his mind.

“If that’s how you’re gonna act, then whatever. I don’t wanna deal with this right now.”

The sight of you walking away from him was ingrained into his being. Before, with a moment of stubbornness on his part causing him to unintentionally push you away prior to you disappearing completely. And now, as it appeared in how you finally believed his doubtful words all that time ago.

A low rumbling sounded off in the distance, and although the sky was steeped in darkness, the thickening of the air signaled an approaching storm. There was nothing left for him to do, far too riddled with inner turmoil from the meeting that was supposed to be the start of your rekindled relationship together.

Reluctantly, the indigo haired man made his way out of the alley, shoulders slumped with hands stuffed in his pockets. Out of all the people in his life, you were the only person who he was sure of to never lose faith in him.

And yet, it would seem his careless sentiments had more of an effect on you than he once thought. That day must’ve been the nail in your coffin―what he wouldn’t give now to rewind time and make up for those actions that unknowingly influenced you into your current untrusting mindset.

_____

He should’ve taken the encounter for what it was at face value, and subsequently move on before the regret could eat him up. But Shinsou was stubborn, he always had been with you.

It was far too easy to keep tabs on you. He knew you were naive, but never to this degree. And disturbingly so, it wasn’t just your naivety that scared him―it was how much worse you’d gotten since you were younger.

You always tended to let people walk over you, to allow those ill intentioned individuals to prey on your openness and take advantage of the kindness offered without hesitation. He hated that part of you, but still never said anything.

Maybe he should’ve―no, he definitely should’ve.

Aside from going out to work and the unavoidable errands, you were practically a shut in. Those coworkers he watched drag you off to whatever bar they had in mind that night seemed to be your only friends. And really, Shinsou didn’t even think he could call them that.

Not once had he seen them give you a chance to speak your mind. It was always about them, all day every day without fail. Clearly those years the two of you spent apart was used to foster this placid behaviour in you. He was always in suspense, waiting with worried thoughts for the moment when you’d open your mouth and finally put an end to the meaningless rambling of your questionable acquaintances.

And yet no matter how long Shinsou waited, observing you with the eyes of a hawk stalking its prey, the anticipated behaviour never came.

You weren’t quite the same girl he knew back before UA―before out of nowhere you just up and left with zero explanation.

Shinsou watched as you simply existed in the world around you. Ignored and never sought after for your opinion, keeping quiet while others took the spotlight. And you always let them. What was more alarming was the fact that even if those realities were harmless, your newfound behaviour was a cesspool for people with dangerously worse desires than the ones he observed so long ago.

Making sure he took the time to see you to work or as you went home, obviously entirely unbeknownst to you, was practically a mandatory task in his life at this point. It wasn’t his original plan, mostly because of how much it took away from his own work day―but once again, your behaviour had an influencing effect on him.

In passing one night, you nearly let a total stranger follow you home. Shinsou watched in disgust and horror as the man called out to you as you walked by him, spouting indecent nonsense from his foul lips. And you ignored him. Not even so much as a glance in his direction as you scuttled away. The man went after you, and the thought of what might’ve happened to you if Shinsou wasn’t keeping you safe made his stomach churn.

Sometimes your shifts weren’t consistent, resulting in him not realizing you’d already left, or that it’d be a while until you did―or even if you were leaving at all. But always making sure you were okay was his only option, the alternative something that he feared, and you would too if you’d just be a little more aware of your surroundings.

Although he preferred this routine of overseeing your day to day excursions, it didn’t hide the fact that his once repressed issues were starting to resurface.

Since proving himself to those who only looked down upon him, working hard and becoming a pro, Shinsou stopped experiencing the pain that came with apprehension from others.

You always did everything in your power to dissuade him from falling for those poisonous words. More often than not, he disregarded you. Now however, he no longer had the same problems of the general population judging him―just you.

He was upset. Angry with how you threw all that hard work and understanding knowledge of his problems to the wind. You were always there for him to be open with, and for what? Now that you were back, was he just supposed to forget about all the times you stayed with him when nobody else would?

Whatever went down in those years apart, it was clear that your final words and his nonchalant attitude left a deeper impression than he thought. You didn’t respond to him.

You were avoiding his quirk.

But you should know better. Even without his quirk, he was still able to bring forth what he wanted in people. What he desired to know, how he wanted people to behave. No amount of silence could keep you from that reality.

Shinsou was mad at you for how you treated him. Even worse, those hate filled feelings were brewing alongside fear for the way you’d changed. A nasty concoction of emotions, entirely directed at you. Before, it was you who put so much mental energy into the relationship, and now it was his turn. Shinsou didn’t realize how taxing that state of concern could be.

It was his job to make up for lost time and long perceived mixed messages. In doing so he would no longer want to rip his hair out at the thought of you so casually resigning yourself to the deceptive whims of those around you. And hopefully, you would realize your perceptions of him were misplaced. No matter what happened, you wouldn’t be able to avoid this.

He’d give you one last chance though.

Mostly, it was to make sure he hadn’t convinced himself that you were that naive. That what he was seeing day in and day out wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He wanted to make sure that the attachment he never really let go of wasn’t altering his perception of the truth. That maybe you were still the girl he knew back then.

He must really care about you, as the way he prepared to go about this moral evaluation went against the instincts that were relentlessly beaten into him from training for all those years to become a pro. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but realistically it was a perfect opportunity to show that even if you did resent him for blowing off all the kind sentiments you always offered without fail, at least you would be able to fend for yourself. Maybe if you passed this test he’d be able to get over the fact that you no longer thought he was capable of being good to you, with the ease of mind gained from other promising actions allowing for the energy to move on.

Honestly, he doubted that he would ever completely get over that, but at least with the notion that maybe you weren’t so helpless, he’d be able to return to the life he had before spotting you on that astonishingly coincidental night.

The sight made his blood boil―seeing you cower in fear from the men he’d sent to do his bidding. Knowing it was himself that was to blame for ripping away your sense of safety in the face of such individuals hurt him to no ends. Shinsou had to keep telling himself it was a necessary evil. There was no other way he could go on about his normal life thinking that in such a situation you wouldn’t do a thing to protect yourself.

And so he waited, eyes narrowed and calculating as the low level villains proceeded to back you into a corner. Shouting all the vile things they were going to do to you, laughing as you stumbled backwards with tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn’t fight back.

You didn’t call for help.

Even as your back hit the brick wall, all you did was stand there in pure and unbridled fear, hyperventilating like a rabbit caught in a trap.

Your pursuers were a little confused at the sight too―they must’ve expected even a little resistance. But regardless, they went through with the orders they received anonymously, expecting a sum of cash for their troubles when all was said and done.

Shinsou let the scene play out for as long as possible. The seconds going by felt like hours as he silently begged you to fight back, to prove to him you hadn’t developed into a weak shell of a girl he once knew.

The quick and panicked breathing that was wracking your body got in the way of that. It was the fear that he’d let be inflicted that led you to pass out under the stress of the situation, telling Shinsou all he needed to know for what he was supposed to do with you next.

_____

Shinsou blamed himself for unknowingly convincing you to go against the ideals that you held so strongly before you vanished from his life. Even worse, he blamed you for finally believing his self-doubting words. You took them to heart, something he would’ve never expected you to do.

Mostly, he blames others for trying to take advantage of the person you’d become.

It had pushed him to do things he never wanted to. To put you in situations that you found terrifying, that confused you to no ends. And he knew from the look on your face how you were feeling.

Baffled and betrayed just as much as he was. At least he wasn’t alone in that sense.

Shinsou could admit that he could’ve been a little nicer to you after you woke up, subsequently finding yourself in an environment you’d never seen before. The only thing you recognized was him, but that did little to put you at ease once you realized he was the one to put you through so much distress in the first place.

He tried telling you that you were safe, that everything he’d done was to make sure that there were no other options aside from the current predicament. He told you that he didn’t want to see you so afraid of him, and that you didn’t need to be.

But that didn’t stop the wide eyed look you gave him whenever he came close to you. Shaking like a leaf whenever he was in the room, keeping your gaze fixed on him should he do something horrible. And he would never do something bad to you, so your reactions only made him feel so much worse.

Or at least, he thought he would never do anything to make your feelings toward him all the more apprehensive.

He was just so angry. Shinsou couldn’t get over the way you regarded him. The way you treated him like a villain. Everyone always used to tell him that that’s what he’d become. And you always told him he wouldn’t.

Yet, when he saw your face twisted in anguish for his actions, those kind words left his mind completely.

If he could just get you to say a single word, he would show you he meant no harm. But no matter what―no matter how much he tried to simply talk to you, a response never came.

And so he was always angry. Shinsou tried not to show it, to keep the intrusive thoughts and behaviours to himself. However, even that became a herculean task when you started to show pity for him.

It was the small actions.

You’d pick up after yourself, even when he told you that he’d handle everything. Shinsou would come back after a shift at the end of a particularly stressful day to see that you’d tidied the house, maybe vacuumed the floors, or cleaned the couch from the building cat hair against the fabric of the cushions where the small animal liked to sleep.

Knowing that you still resented him, yet let those complacent features shine through in your circumstances bothered him immensely. He would’ve liked it more if you stayed mad at him, at least then it would’ve shown him you were learning. That his little test of strength had paid off, and you were starting to understand the concept of what it meant to defend yourself. But even while you stayed consistent with the looks of passing despair and confliction, you never once made a move to leave him.

That wasn’t to say you enjoyed remaining chained to a bed at night, or how not once in the past month had you experienced fresh air. It was just that you didn’t ever try for the door, or even a window. Shinsou would know if you did, he cared a lot more about home security than you had after all―but the alarms signalling such an action never went off.

He knew that the main reason for why he kept you with him was because really, he loved you more than he loved any person in his life before. Having you around him constantly was great, even better was the fact that he knew nobody else would have the same opportunity.

The only problem was his guilt, and the way you mindlessly fueled it. That’s what kept him angry.

At himself.

At you.

At everyone.

It was only so long before those wrathful emotions took hold of his common sense.

Generally speaking, the atmosphere was calming. The fireplace was lit in the background, casting a warm hue to the dining room. A storm was beating against the window outside, the noise of the water hitting the glass dulcifying. Shinsou had gone through the trouble of cooking your favorite for dinner, it turning out better than expected. The pleasant aroma was the final touch to stave off rampant nerves, welcoming only thoughts to ease the mind.

But Shinsou’s mind was everything but at ease―you weren’t eating.

The issue was a persisting one. He didn’t know why you were doing it, only that the problem was becoming more of an issue as time went on. You were losing weight, becoming sickly looking. The food was right in front of you, and yet you remained still.

He couldn’t put up with it, breaking the silence that always hung unless he was the one to make noise. “You need to eat something.”

Just barely, you flinched at his words. He didn’t bother coming off soft, knowing he needed the assertiveness if he was ever going to get through to you. Your eyes flitted to meet his, not a second did they remain in place before going back to staring at your lap.

He persisted, “I thought this was your favorite―did you get sick of it after you left?”

The reference to your untimely departure had your brows furrowing slightly, a worried look forming across your face.

A deep sigh escaped Shinsou’s lips, him leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table while regarding you with a stern expression. “I promise I won’t use my quirk on you. I know that’s what you’re worried about, but you don’t need to be.”

Thick silence settled back into the room. He didn’t make a noise for fear of interrupting any potential motivation you might be having to respond. But you stayed still, eyes remaining downcasted. And more importantly―unspeaking.

It was probably a good thing that you weren’t looking at Shinsou, given the heated glare he was sending your way. With each passing second spent without you acknowledging his promise that you’d only heard a thousand times before now, the feeling of intense frustration inside him festered.

Another few moments, then a harsh “Fuck it,” and Shinsou was grabbing both of your plates. He had finished eating, always waiting patiently for you to do the same. It was clear you weren’t going to do so tonight though, and honestly, he was too pissed to even give you the chance to anyway.

He brought them into the kitchen, setting his plate in the sink while retrieving something to put your dinner in, should you be more motivated to eat it later. “You can just...go to your room for the rest of the night.” Shinsou spoke the words with a certain edge to his tone, not even regarding you as he talked over his shoulder.

Why couldn’t you just do this one little thing for him? It wasn’t hard―the food was good, even if it turned out not to be your favorite anymore. Was it really that difficult to even acknowledge the fact that he put so much work into making sure you were well fed?

The sound of your bare feet padding against the tiled kitchen flooring alerted him to your presence. You stood a few feet away from him, expression looking conflicted and, what he hated the most―pitying.

“I told you to go to your room, unless you’re ready to eat now?”

He watched as your eyes flitted to the dirty dishes, giving him another brief glance before you made your way to the sink. Carefully, you emptied it and began running the water, leaving a finger under the stream to wait for it to heat up.

Shinsou stood frozen, a hand gripping the edge of the counter that had his knuckles turning white.

“You don’t need to do that. Go back to your room.”

You paid no mind to his words, clearly not recognizing them for what they were―a demand.

Seeing this, Shinsou walked over to the sink, leaning over you. “What part of ‘go back to your room’ do you not understand?” He was trying so hard not to raise his voice, yet as he spoke his tone only grew in strength.

Ever so vaguely, you let out a small huff in frustration. You just wanted to help. It was the only thing you could think to do so as not to piss him off. Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that you doing so was exactly what was making him so mad.

And he didn’t realize that you thought you had no other choice.

Shinsou’s hand slammed down on the faucet handle, cutting off the stream and finally raising his voice to let out the pent up anger he’d been suppressing for so long. “So what, first you can’t give me a fucking response and now your straight up ignoring me?!” This time he forcefully moved you from the sink, shoving you away from it. “I try so fucking hard and you can’t even listen to me now?! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

The moment the words slipped from his mouth, Shinsou froze in his place. You had stumbled back from the force of his push, now balancing yourself on the counter of an island that rested in the middle of the kitchen. You were looking at him wide-eyed, scared and shaking.

Like you had been when he sent those lowly criminals on you.

Like he was a villain.

“I...I didn’t mean that.”

You were already backing away, retreating like he would try to hurt you again, not only with his words.

His voice was quiet, as if any shift towards further aggression would have you breaking down. But it was too late when the tears were already streaming down your face.

“Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to be like that, I promise. Just―”

You were rushing back to your room before he could finish his sentence. The door slammed shut, him flinching as the loud noise reverberated off the walls of his home.

Three times now.

Shinsou had the courage to act as a hero, selflessly risking his own well being for the sake of others. He disregarded his feelings to make people he didn’t even know more comfortable, he knew how to de-escalate the tension and troubles of any situation.

And yet, this was the third time he had watched you leave him. The third time he remained in his place as you walked, or in this case, ran away from him. The coward that hid inside him while he remained a pro at work revealed itself in your presence.

He hated himself for it.

But he would fix things. Mend the gap in your relationship that was keeping you from opening up, and keeping him from being there for you when you needed it the most.

_____

Shinsou cursed himself for not doing it sooner.

It would only make sense for him to conduct some form of research on you, seeing as how close he’d made you be with him. He was just so caught up in his own feelings and inner turmoil to take the time to, and now he wishes he’d done it the moment he came back into contact with you.

Looking at the records on file of you nearly made his heart stop. For one, they were extensive, forcing him to spend copious amounts of time just sitting in his study and reading for hours.

The moment you ran off after dinner, he’d locked your bedroom door and left, resolving to find answers. And find them he did.

In the form of hospital records dating back to the very day you disappeared before high school.

You were in a car accident. The vehicle that had collided with the one your parents were driving hit the side of the car, but only at the back of it―where you were sitting. And it was bad, you had to undergo multiple surgeries to fix the damage inflicted onto your fragile body.

Amongst the repairs, the file of a brain surgery stood out. Along with the records of your rehabilitation, Shinsou learnt everything he needed to know.

You weren’t avoiding his quirk―you physically couldn’t talk.

The accident and the surgery left you unable to, and all this time you were putting up with his incessant encouragement to speak because you couldn’t tell him to stop. You’d left back then because of your inability to communicate like the average person, your parents moving you away for a fresh start―it was easier than having to explain to everyone what had happened. When you were older you moved back, it being the only place you truly were familiar with.

Shinsou connected the dots. Your physical condition and how it affected that of your mental state. Given your limitations, he could understand how you came to be so lenient with the way people treated you. You couldn’t tell them if you were upset, so it must have become easier to just let life have its way with you.

He clutched the stack of files in his hand, pausing outside your bedroom door. Even on his side of the frame, the quiet sniffles escaping your body were all too distinct for him. The sound made his heart clench in anguish, being painfully aware that it was all his doing. And if he had just taken the time to get over his own intrusive thoughts and stopped blaming you for everything, none of this would’ve happened in the first place.

Hesitantly, Shinsou brought his hand up to the door, giving a few knocks against the wood. When he heard the sad sound of your cries being stifled, he fished the keys to the locks from his pocket. Pushing the door open slowly, both as a secondary motion to let you know he was entering, and to use the time to brace himself, he let his eyes fall upon your form.

You had curled up into a ball on the bed, back pressed against the headboard. There was a blanket held tightly in your hands, shielding most of your body from his face. Your eyes met, and despite the dim lighting of the lamp to your right, he could see the puffiness around your eyes.

Shinsou stepped through the threshold of the door, letting it shut behind him. Your eyes remained trained on him as he made his way to the side of the bed you were closest to, sitting down on the edge.

Carefully, he set the stack of papers atop the sheets, sliding them closer towards your shaking body. He waited patiently as you fearfully reached a hand out and took the files from him.

As you opened the yellow folder keeping the documents in place, Shinsou broke the heavy silence.

“I didn’t know. And―I feel like shit for not finding out sooner.”

He had no clue how you’d react, so dreadfully, he kept his gaze on you as your fingers flipped through a few pages.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think―”

What he said now was more important than ever, knowing just how shaken your state must be due to his stupidly impulsive actions. Shinsou paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling before continuing.

“When you refused to respond to me the night I caught you at the bar...I thought it was because you were avoiding my quirk. This whole time―I assumed you’d given up on me after we had that fight, before you left.”

Your lower lip was trembling as he continued, a few voiceless sobs escaping your broken form.

“I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I was just frustrated that you weren’t responding, but that’s not an excuse for the way I acted.”

By now you had abandoned the flimsy records, curling in on yourself as your emotions took over. Shinsou watched as your body convulsed with sobs, listening to the way your breath escaped rapidly, with the typical sound of your voice accompanying the action missing.

He wouldn’t idly sit by as you hurt anymore. That was something he used to do, and look at where it got him.

Removing the folder from your hands and placing it atop the nightstand, Shinsou scooped you up in his arms. He took your place on the bed and sat down with you on his lap. Gently, he held you close to his chest, a hand rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion as you continued to cry into his shoulder.

“I promise not to ever do something like that again. I know none of this was your fault, and I understand why you behave the way you do now.”

He knew that you’d still fear him after what he’d done, and the fact only made the sinking feeling in his chest worse. It was his fault you were so distraught, he could only assume that you were unable to find any way to tell him what was wrong before. And Shinsou had blamed you for your situation, when really it was out of your control entirely.

Now, he would have to make up for the damage he’d done.

Shinsou wasn’t sure how he was going to go about making amends for the problems he’d created, but one thing was for sure―it was still his job to protect you from yourself. He understood now why you’d grown to be someone who takes things in stride, far too much than one normally should. The way you behaved wasn’t okay, whether you quite realized that fact or not.

As far as he was concerned, your vulnerability wasn’t to be taken lightly. He’d seen first hand what could happen should he abandon you.

Letting you leave wasn’t an option.

You needed him, even if it took you a while to understand that. Shinsou knew you would likely continue to resent him for the treatment he’d subjected you to―anyone would. But he could handle it, that was his responsibility after all.

His fonder feelings for you never changed, only growing in passion the more time he spent with you. At this point, he wouldn’t be able to part with you even if you proved you could take care of yourself.

And so he resolved that you would never stray from his side, and he would always be there to take care of you.

Shinsou would’ve said more to you, but in the moment he doubted you would even hear him amidst the distress you were in. The voiceless sobbing continued, and he did his best to calm you, gently rocking you while whispering reassurances through the motions. He didn’t know what you were thinking, and he knew you’d never be able to tell him.

But actions spoke louder than words, and right now they told him that even just a bit, the way he held you was slowly calming you down with each shaky breath you took. So he didn’t let go, and you didn’t fight him.

In that moment, he knew he’d finally done something right. He was there for you in the way you’d been there for him all those years ago. It was how he wished he’d been when the regret plagued his being at the recollection of you walking away from him.

Shinsou wouldn’t let you walk away anymore. He’d take care of your silent troubles in ways that he knew nobody was doing for you before, in ways that you needed someone to help you with.

He understood what was to be expected of him now, and he would no longer let any self satisfying behaviour get in between the two of you ever again.

#yandere bnha #yandere shinsou hitoshi #yandere shinsou #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere #yanderecore #yandere x you #bnha fanfiction #yandere writing

350 notes · View notes

theheavenlymoon · 3 years

Text

A flower’s growth 🌸

I just realized that Hanako is technically a self-insert oc because I use her for more than just twst i-

Also, this is my number one resource https://camp-halfblood-fanon.fandom.com/wiki/Hestia_Cabin

Its mentions one important thing that is critical in Hanako's back story. I'll show you the important thing but I recommend reading it all because its really interesting!

"i.e. Hestia takes some essence of a mortal man she takes a liking to and create her child by fire from the hearth with her essence fused to that mortal's. Hestia then proceeds to notify the father as she cannot raise the child." (13 in 'powers and traits')

Also to give you some visuals (I’ll explain the two boys later on)

So with that being said..let's👏talk👏trauma! More specifically Hanako's trauma.

(The writing style might change so just ignore it-)

WARNING: Suicidal thoughts

Virginal Goddesses like Hestia don't really have kids. Athena children are born from their mother's head. So how would a Hestia child be born? Let me explain.

A man caught Hestia's attention. He was compassionate and energetic and always tried to help when he could. Even though he had very little money, even though he had some hard times, he was still compassionate and that intrigued Hestia.

When he was more financial stable, Hestia decided to gift him a child. A perfect gift for a family man like him. Hestia took some of his essence and mixed it with her’s and with the help of some fire from the hearth, Hanako was born.

A small knock could be heard through the small house. Fumihito goes to open the door only for a baby to staring up at him while making cooing noises. Rapped in a purple blanket with flowers on it, the baby had a small name tag that said ‘Hanako’

“Welcome home Hanako.” The man said with a small smile

When Hanako was about 4, Fumihito married his best friend and moved to America. A few months later triplets were born. All of them being male. First is Kaji, Hinote, and Yakeru. Most people would think Hana would hate to have siblings, but it’s quite the opposite. Hanako was ecstatic to have siblings she could play with.

When she was told she was going to be a big sister and had to take her role seriously, that’s exactly what she did. She read the boys to sleep and keeped them entertained as best as she could. When they were a little older Hana liked to make them wear dress and have tea parties. In return she took part in everything the boys did. Sports, video games, music, art you name it she would try it at least once.

Hana grew in grace and compassion. She truly was a great balance between her parents. It was funny hearing advice that sounds like something a sage would give only for it to be a child talking. She was a bright, energetic girl and never could stay in one place for very long. She was very social and was friends with almost everyone in her school.

But some stories can’t always be fairytales and rainbows...

Hanako’s step-mother fell ill and passed away when she was about 10. Everyone was devastated but life doesn’t stop when people fall. So they didn’t either. Obviously they still mourned but they tried to have a positive outlook even though a family member is gone.

(Fast forward to where Hana is 11)

In the dead of night, when everyone was in a deep slumber, there’s a small crash. At the sound, Hana jerks up in a sweat. Call it intuition, but she had a horrible feeling something was going to go wrong.

She snuck into her brother’s rooms and hid them in a small closet in one of their rooms. As Hana was about to go wake her father she heard a noise. Hana turned around only to see a woman holding what look to be like a sword.

Without warning the woman grabbed Hana’s hair and threw her into a bookshelf. Hana let out a small shriek. The bookshelf itself was unstable and the added force made it fall. Luckily Hana was fast enough to move most of her body. Let’s just say her left leg wasn’t as lucky as her other limbs.

The woman had a feeling the father could come out any minute so she ran around the corner and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike

At the sudden noises that we’re going outside his room, Hana’s father slams the door open only to see Hana stuck under the unstable bookshelf.

In at state of panics he rushed over to her. “Hana are you alright?!?!” But Hana didn’t answer. She was to focused on the woman who was still behind the corner.

“I’m calling the police! Just hang on!” Fumihito yelled. After Fumihito called 911 he tried to move the bookshelf. While he was doing so the woman kept stalking closer. “DADDY LOOK OUT-“ but it was to late. In one swipe Fumihito’s head was cut clean off, his body falling limp right beside Hanako. No one in that neighborhood could ever forget the Bloodcurdling scream that came from Hanako’s house. Eyes wide with horror and despair Hana couldn’t keep her tears in.

Before the woman could do any more damage they heard police sirens. “We will meet again someday demigod.” And with that the woman disappeared.

After a full check of the house they concluded that only the children were left. Once they found Hana, nothing was left of the lively girl. After helping her get out from under the bookshelf the police immediately sent her to the hospital. The police told the triplets to pack stuff that was most important to them and follow the police. (The triplets also packed stuff for Hana as well. One of the things being a photo album of the family.)

The police concluded that the children didn’t have any other adults to care for them so they would have to be put in an orphanage. However there wasn’t an orphanage where they lived so they would have to be put in a new town.

It was hard adjusting to this new life. There was barely enough food for everyone, you had to share rooms with other kids. Hanako had to use crutches for a while until her leg healed. Her new school wasn’t that great either. Hana, not being as social as she once was, was bullied for being too quiet. Not to mention, no one had ever seen a kid with natural yellow eyes and violet hair.

From beating her almost to death, to threatening to cut her hair and gouge her eyes out because she was ‘too pretty’

On terms of Hana in general, she wasn’t acting like her normal self. She had gotten more reserved and became a cry baby. You could easily tell she had eye bags and her anxiety was always threatening to go through the roof. You can only assume those eye bags were because of nightmares from that night. She talked much quieter and always wore a frown with her eye brows scrunched in a worried way.

The other three were to young to understand what happened. The police had to lie to them saying “your dad is on a special trip right now.”

About 6 months later the triplets were adopted by a man who looked like he was the head of some company. Hana tried her best to run after them but the staff had to hold her back. All the while the three were screaming for her to come and save them.

What no one knew is that the triplets would be forced to become assassins. It’s not like they wanted to! The man said if they didn’t he would kill their sister! The night after the adoption they all made a promise to keep Hana safe no matter what.

So there Hana sat all alone on the swings of a play ground, with no one around to comfort her. Surrounded by people who have families and are happy. It’s like the universe was taunting her.

The only thing that didn’t change is her older sibling nature. Giving her food to the little ones. Playing dress up or soccer. Her smiles were always fake. Maybe to the blind eye she seems happy but some could easily tell she was anything but happy.

6 months later Hana finally gets her cast takin off. At this time Hanako is 12 and is at her breaking point. After another day of school, and another day of almost getting beat to death, something snaps inside of her.

(TRIGGER WARNING⚠️)

You have to understand, Hanako didn’t have anybody to talk to. Everyone was either to busy or didn’t bother to care. Which left her all by herself. It felt like she was trapped almost. No one there to listen or laugh with.

The scissors on her dresser looked quite tempting. The relief of not having to go through any more of this pain and loneliness was very appealing, but before she could touch them a huge gust of wind blew into her room. Taking the scissors away from her while she was distracted.

If that couldn’t work then running away would be the next best option. That night Hana packed her things (including the photo album) and drew out her plan. It was quite simple really.

She would skip school and go behind it, where a cliff is, to get a good view of where she could go from there.

After running around the school and into a forest, Hana reached a stream. Cupping some water to drink, Hana got caught up in how refreshing the water was. A snap of a branch snapped her out of her state and made her look around. That’s when she saw the manticore out of the corner of her eye.

Hana quickly got up and started backing away only to forget that there’s a cliff and slips. Plummeting to her presumed death tears start to seep out once again. Out of no where a boy that looks to be about 15, swoops in to save her, but the weirdest thing is that his shoes have wings on them, But she was to tired to care. So acting like she didn’t have a care in the world, she rapped her arms around him and snuggled into his neck.

The last thing she could make out was something like “ Let’s get out of here before that manticore decides it wants a 3 course Demi-god meal!” Or something like that.

When Hana woke up, she looked around and realized she was in an infirmary room. The same boy she saw was sleeping on the bed next to her. A knock on the door was heard, and in came girl who looked about the same age as the boy. “You two have been out for a while.” She said “I would’ve never suspected that a tiny demigod like you could cause so much trouble.” Hana looked confused “Do I know you? And what do you mean by demigod?” She asked.

The older girl let out a small chuckle before walking up an sitting next to Hana. “I’m Jane, daughter of Aphrodite! The reason why I called you a demigod is because, well... you’re half god half mortal.” The younger girl couldn’t believe her ears. “B-but how do we know I’m a demigod?” “Have you seen your other parent before? Can you never be in one place for to long? Those are all signs my dear, of course if you don’t believe me we can wait till your godly parent claims you as their kid.”

After that small encounter Jane took Hanako on a tour of where she’d be staying the whole summer. “W-why are we at a camp? And who was that boy w-who saved me?” The younger girl asked in a quiet voice. “This camp houses demigods, there a two from what everyone knows. One for Greek gods and one for Roman gods. The boy who saved you is my best friend Chase, he’s a child of Hermes! Speaking of Hermes, you’ll be staying in that cabin until your godly parent claims you.” The elder girl pointed at the Hermes cabin. “The gods have specific cabins for them and their children, and depending on your mom or dad you could end up housing with me or Chase.”

After the tour, there was dinner, after dinner it was time for everyone to sit around the big campfire. Everyone was laughing, talking, and telling stories. One kid asked Hana if she knew her godly parent yet, but before she could answer something flashed above her head.

The warm glow of a fireplace hung over her head. Everyone stopped talking, looking shocked. Hana was the first ever child of Hestia! From the back of all the campers you can hear someone yell “All hail Hanako! Daughter of Hestia!” And just like that everyone bowed.

After all that craziness, Hanako was escorted to her own cabin. She let out a small thank you before going inside. To her surprise there was a woman waiting inside, but this woman felt oddly familiar. Almost as if Hana saw her before! The woman turned around and said “We have quite a lot to catch up on, Hanako.” With a welcoming smile. Just like that Hana dropped her bag and ran to the woman. It didn’t take long to figure out that she was her godly parent.

That night the two girls talked and talked till midnight. That’s when Hestia tucked Hana into bed. For the first time in a year she finally felt happy, and that night she went to sleep wearing a smile. The next day Hana sat by a tree relaxing when suddenly two boy came out of nowhere! One had black hair, blue eyes, and he had some freckles on his nose. The other had light brown hair and cyan blue eyes and wore a black baseball hat.

“We h-heard you were the daughter of Hestia and w-we were w-wondering i-if you would like to-“ “What he’s trying to say, is that we wondering if you to be friends!” The brunette interrupted. “A-are you sure you want a crybaby like me to be your friend??” The boys looked at each other and smiled (the brunette smiling more brighter and the blackette smile more small)

They nodded and reached out their hands to her’s. At first she hesitated but quickly grabbed their hands, afraid they might disappear. When she grabbed their hand it was like weights were lifted off her chest. She never realized until now, how important friends and family are until recently . “I’m Xavier and the dork with the freckles is Kai!” “I AM NOT A DORK!! I’m just not that great when it comes to ladies!” “Right, Right.” The brunette said sarcastically. “Anyway my godly parent is Hermes and Kai’s Mother is Athena!”

Maybe thing we’re starting to take a turn for the better.

Once she met those two Hanako started coming out of her shell more. She was still quiet and anxious but it isn’t as bad as before. Not to mention she gets more loud and energetic with Xavier and Kai around!

Hanako HATES libraries and bookshelf. She’ll go in a library if she has to, but she avoids them as best she can. If she’s ever in a vicinity of a bookshelf she’ll distance herself as much as possible. Let’s just say she gets very anxious and nervous when she around them.

If you ever asked about Hana’s past she would never be ashamed to tell you what happened. She isn’t happy about the events that took place but there’s nothing she can do about it know. So know matter what Hanako always tries to keep her head up high when it comes to her past.

(More visuals)

🌸Some side notes here🌸

(Don’t mind the last one’s eyes being blue. I was trying to decide if I wanted to stick with yellow or try something new-)

(I can go more into depth on Hanako’s two besties if anyone would be interested)

(I’m also thinking of reintroducing her because the first one is her in twst but she’s like that in every fandom basically. Obviously I won’t delete the first one I just wanna talk about everything she’s in and what her relations are to everyone!)

#ocs #twst oc #jjk oc #twisted wonderland #obey me oc #demon slayer oc #twst #genshin impact oc #twst x reader

19 notes · View notes