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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

through and through.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: this is our ajf minimal loss fic! as (usually) usual, its more fun if you read the rest of the series, but this one stands on its own just fine. lemme know what you think!!

words: 5.8k warnings: canon-typical violence, death, and injury, language, aaron Flexing on These Hoes™

summary: the septarian sect ranch situation is hard enough with the memories of waco. the knowledge you’re in danger, along with reid and prentiss, has aaron on edge.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

“Everyone just stay calm!”

Nancy turns, assuring you with a naive and placating smile, “I’m state police. I’m an officer of the state.”

Stupid. Stupid!

“Well, there’s nothing we can do right now.” Emily, ever the voice of reason, assures from behind you.

“We just have to calm down.” Your useless attempt at de-escalation is overrun by gunfire.

“I can talk to him.” Lunde turns to go, and you reach for the back of her shirt, trying to pull her back.

You manage to get past the goons in the front, while they stop Emily. There’s only one chance. “No, Nancy! Wait.”

As you run after her out of the tunnel to the main level, you give her more and more space. The noise and smoke is a little overwhelming and you almost lose her in your confusion and distraction. Cyrus shouts to cease fire, but it’s in vain. The gunfire echoes around you, and you can’t help but think of Aaron.

What if I don’t come home?

She rushes to the front of the building, by the window, and addresses Benjamin. “Mr. Cyrus, let me talk to them.”

You catch up to here in the chapel, reaching for her arm to pull her back to safety when something stops you. You can’t feel it at first, but when you watch Lunde drop to the ground, you know.

Fuck.

Hitting the deck right away, you put pressure on the gunshot wound that’s torn through your left shoulder. You breathe deeply, fighting the panic you know will only hurt you more. The shock still numbs the pain and when you look, it seems through and through. The back of your blazer is ripped through, and there’s a hole in the wall behind you.

That’s a comfort.

The last thing you needed was a .223 round bouncing around in your chest. You’re grateful enough it didn’t tear your arm off entirely.

You crawl around the corner and press yourself against the wall. With a groan, you remove your blazer and tie it around your shoulder as best you can. You chance a glance at Nancy, but she's already gone - unseeing eyes turned toward the ceiling, her hand limp on the carpet, blood blossoming across the chest of her teal blouse.

Damn it.

Cyrus’s men shout around you, and it feels more and more like an active warzone with every passing second

“Man down, man down! We can’t stay here!”

“Hold your fire!”

You breathe as deeply as you can, tucking your arm to your belly and closing your eyes. The gunfire slowly ceases, the movement around you becoming only a little less frantic.

Aaron will know. He’ll find us. We’ll be okay.

Your shoulder twinges. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and you only hope you go into shock soon for the sake of your pain tolerance.

Aaron, please. Please hurry.

+++

“Morgan.” JJ bursts through the glass doors and unmutes the television in the corner.

“What’s up?”

She increases the volume, and they hear, “... a routine question and answers meeting by Colorado Child Services has turned into a violent and deadly standoff between Colorado authorities and a fringe religious group known as the Septarian Sect.”

Morgan stands, ready to leap into action. “JJ...That’s not the ranch were -”

“They’re still inside.”

Derek’s voice rockets across the office as he calls for Hotch, who immediately ends his call and leaves his office, leaning heavily on the banister. Derek tells him you’re still in there, with Reid and Prentiss.

“...at least three child services members are still trapped inside the compound.”

No.

Aaron swallows heavily,

Keep your head, Hotcher. It’ll be okay.

Phones start ringing all at once. Everyone looks to Aaron, and he’s already back in his office, grabbing his things. He flies back out, blazer slung over his shoulder and go bag in-hand. “Wheels up. Now.”

+++

You watch as they haul Lunde’s body out of the way. Someone helps you to your feet. You’re feeling pretty dizzy.

“Can I have some water? Please?” You know for certain you’re in shock now, and keeping your blood pressure and volume high enough is the only way you’ll make it out alright.

“We’ll get you what you need after we take you back to your people.”

There’s always been a little part of you that believes in the nugget of humanity in people. Today, it might just save your life.

Emily rushes to you as you step down into the basement. Reid hovers, nervous and watchful. Emily’s voice is steady. “We need water and medical attention.”

“First aid kit is in the corner.” Cyrus points and Reid jets off to grab it while Cyrus continues giving direction. Someone hands her three bottles of water, and she sets them by your side.

Emily’s hand flutters over your forehead, as if checking you for fever. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Through and through. Just gotta stop the bleeding.” You know you’re slurring your words a little bit, but it’s not as bad as it could be.

“I prayed this day would never come, but it has.” Cyrus shoulders a rifle. “God will see us through.”

Fuck.

Cyrus’s eyes linger on you and Emily a little longer than is comfortable, but that’s the least of your worries. Spencer returns with the kit, pulling out packing gauze and wrapping.

Emily helps you with your blazer and shirt, leaving your shoulder exposed to the mountain air. Spencer packs your wound while Emily starts wrapping the gauze around your ribs and shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay.”

You put a hand on her arm. “I know. Thanks.”

+++

Hotch comes to a screaming stop in the SUV, his suit jacket long gone in the Colorado heat. He immediately makes assignments. “Dave, I’m making you lead negotiator.”

“Me?” Dave asks.

“Why go to the students when I have the teacher?” Aaron’s eyes are probing and hold all the respect in the world for his dear friend.

“Because the teacher is emotionally involved!” Dave cants his head toward the compound, and Aaron’s eyes follow, as if searching for you. Dave’s eyes stay steady on Aaron - watching him look for you. “And so is the Agent in Charge.”

With a defeated sigh, Aaron cops to it. “I know I am. This is a unique situation.” At Dave’s squint, he continues. “We have three agents who could affect the outcome on the inside.” His voice is low and riddled with tension. The concern radiates off of him in waves, and he can only hope it passes as concern for the whole team.

In truth, it’s almost all for you. He can’t explain it, but he knows something isn’t right.

“I can’t be objective. I know them too well.” Dave does everything he can to pull Aaron from direct control, but he knows it's a lost cause. More than one part of him knows why.

Aaron’s jaw tightens, and he’s more intense than before when he replies, “This outcome depends as much on our ability to predict the moves of our team as Cyrus. That’s why you’re the best man for the job.”

“Assuming they’re still in a position to make moves.”

The thought is near-unbearable. He softens, taking another approach.

“I know how bad this is. That’s why I want you doing the talking.”

“Alright.”

Aaron claps Dave on the shoulder, and it’s a silent thanks. Before they can move, there’s more commotion around the back of the FBI staging area.

Goddamn it. What now?

“...I’m sorry sir, I’m under direct orders from the FBI.”

Dave and Aaron share a glance, and Aaron leads the way to the argument.

“I’m the Attorney General of this state.”

He can’t help it. A smirk crosses Aaron’s face.

Lawyers. Alright. I can do lawyers.

There’s also a part of him relieved that he can offload some of this stress into some kind of altercation. An opportunity to flex his Juris Doctorate never hurts.

“I demand to know why I wasn’t told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Septarian Ranch -”

Alright. That’s it.

Aaron turns, an insulting kind of disbelief on his face. Steadily and without haste, he approaches. “The only thing that you’re in the position to demand is a lawyer.” A spike of anger strikes his chest.

He knew about this raid. He knew and he failed to tell us.

And now his people are in trouble.

You are in trouble.

“Who the hell are you?” The overblown AG turns on Aaron.

Big mistake.

“I’m Aaron Hotchner. Unit Chief. I’m the guy who’s gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.”

And it’s not an empty threat, dipshit.

“You can’t talk to me like that.” Was that a smug smile on his face?

Aaron steps up to him, nearly nose to nose. The adrenaline and anger and fear floods through him and leaks through his words. “Get off my crime scene.”

Hard brown eyes stare down weak blue ones. Aaron wins.

+++

“Then leave us alone.” Cyrus’s voice belies no tension as he paces. Your eyes follow him, much more alert now that much of the bleeding has stopped and you have some water in you. Emily strapped ice to your shoulder about twenty minutes ago. You might end up with a little nerve damage, but it's better than bleeding to death.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Benjamin.” Dave takes a breath, delivering the information steadily. “One of the police bled out on the way to the hospital. So let’s just stop this before things get worse.”

Aaron’s brows, already low, get even lower. Derek, hovering behind Rossi, takes note. The tension in his unit chief is different and he doesn’t know what it is.

“Please,” Dave continues, “just put down your guns and come out.”

A buzzing takes over Aaron’s senses for a moment, and he shakes his head to rid himself of it. He reaches down for a bottle of water, downing half of it before he puts it back down.

“Now, the four child service workers…” That catches Aaron’s attention, and he snaps to. “One of them is dead. It wasn’t us.”

You bite your lip, watching Benjamin pace near the door. That phrasing will do nothing but panic your team, and you know it. Tipping your head against the wall behind you, you throw out anything you can.

I’m alright, Aaron. We’re okay.

Aaron’s head drops and he wets his lips. He closes his eyes, doing his best to keep himself from running straight for the compound.

No. Please. I’ll get what I get for wishing it’s someone else, but please let it be someone else. Anyone else.

What if it was Prentiss?

What if it was Reid?

Guilt floods him and he pushes the thoughts aside.

Dave keeps his voice clear and even. The depth of Aaron’s gratitude and respect is ineffable. There’s nobody better for the job. “I need a name to inform the family.”

“Her name was Nancy Lunde.”

Aaron nearly collapses in relief, pushing away the guilt as it rises in his sternum.

“One service worker was shot in the same altercation, but we have provided medical care and the wound is non-lethal.”

Say my name. Say my name, please.

He doesn’t, and you grind your teeth together.

Dave nods, glancing at Aaron. “Okay. Now, please, Benjamin, send out your wounded, including the injured service worker. I promise they’ll be taken care of.”

“With enough supplies, we can tend to our own.”

“Okay, I’ll need a few hours to put them together. I’ll bring them up myself at first light.”

You can’t hear what Dave says on the other end of the line, but Cyrus’s lack of reaction can only be a good thing.

“You should get some sleep.” Emily, sitting next to you, checks over your wound again. Spencer’s on your other side with his eyes closed, but you know he’s not sleeping either.

Closing your eyes, you reply, “I can’t.” Nevertheless, you reach for her hand. She slips her fingers into your palm. “Mm. Your hands are warm.”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t get shot today.” She’d usually jostle you with a jab like that, but she knows better - obviously.

+++

When first light comes, you open your eyes. You’re not sure, but it was likely you got at least a couple of hours of sleep. There’s a lot you don’t remember from the night before, but you know they shuffled you up to the chapel at some point.

Probably a good thing.

The ice has melted and your arm is all wet. You check your dressings and find them working well enough. They’ll still have to be changed, but you can’t deny the effectiveness of Emily’s instruction and handiwork.

A car door closes outside. Emily stirs, immediately reaching for a nearby bottle of water. She hands it to you after she takes a couple of sips. Shuffling around Spencer, you take it with your good arm and drink as much as you can.

Wait. Didn’t Spencer say you could do a transfusion with coconut water?

Do I even need a transfusion?

Yes.

Oh. Thanks.

A knock on the door startles you out of your half-delirious thoughts. You’re grateful for the distraction. The feeling increases tenfold when Dave walks into the chapel.

Aaron’s nearby. It’ll be okay. He probably put Dave on this himself.

“The children, and our guests.” Cyrus gestures to you, proving to Dave that everyone is in fact, relatively, alright.

You turn your head (ouch) and meet Dave’s eyes. Looking back down, you’re satisfied he knows you’re alive.

“I was hoping you’d let me take the children,” Dave says.

Benjamin shakes his head. “Nah. They’re our protection.”

We are, too, dumbass.

The two men chat for a moment. Your heart feels like it grows three sizes as you listen to Dave do what he does best.

It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.

You have to believe it.

After Dave leaves, they make you stand off to the side while they pour wine for everyone present. Emily starts whispering, and you know she’s profiling the adults. It’s probably smart, but all your energy is focused on remaining upright and ignoring the throbbing ache in your shoulder.

+++

Dave jogs back up to the staging area and assures them you’re all okay. He relays your condition to Aaron, “...but it looks alright. Well-dressed and not bleeding through.”

Aaron nods. So that’s what the feeling was. You’re alright, but it’s still wrong. He shoves down something else that scares him a little.

That’s a problem for another time.

Is it a problem, though?

Yes.

“He’s too calm. It’s - It’s like he was waiting for this to happen and now that it has, he feels vindicated.”

Aaron rounds the table and comes to rest at Dave’s side. They’re in full strategy mode. The opportunity to stretch their abilities is welcome, but they both wish it was under better circumstances with lower stakes.

His hands flutter uselessly at his sides. Restless energy still rockets around his limbs and he hates it. He hates feeling so deeply out of control.

“I have a signal!”

Derek, Dave, and Aaron flock to their headphones, tuning in just in time to hear Cyrus inform the congregation they have all ingested the poison together.

+++

Emily’s eyes shoot around the room, and you know what she’s thinking.

The profile didn’t indicate mass suicide…

This doesn’t fit

He continues to deliver his sermon and you tune out, focused on the faces of Cyrus’s followers. Right now, they’re more revealing than he’ll ever be.

+++

“This doesn’t fit.”

Dave voices Aaron’s thoughts exactly. It quickly devolves into discussion of a breach, and Aaron brings a hand to his forehead. He’s ready to go.

“If we go into there, people are going to die.”

Aaron’s hand flies out to the side. “People are already dying.”

Rossi’s eyebrows raise, and Aaron tries to keep his hackles down.

+++

“What do we do?” Emily whispers.

Spencer shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“We have to do something,” you hiss. “These people just took poison.”

“Cyrus just told them he did and I think he’s bluffing.”

Emily’s brow crumples. “Why do you think that?”

Spencer’s following observations make sense - the notes, the watching armed bystanders. It’s strategically sound for Cyrus to weed out the weak in his congregation.

After a moment, Cyrus admits it was a test of faith. “...Watch each other for signs of weakness. You are your brother’s keeper.”

+++

Frustrated, Aaron runs his hands through his hair. “Tell ‘em to stand down.”

The tension is getting to him, as is the lack of sleep. Dave made him lay down overnight, but he never once closed his eyes. He was worried about Prentiss. He was worried about Reid.

He was worried about you.

I almost got all of them killed.

Step it up, Hotchner. You chose Dave for a reason.

Listen to him.

+++

“...well into its second day, the standoff at the Septarian Sept ranch has now been taken over by the FBI. There was much speculation in regard to hostages…”

Aaron hovers behind JJ, completely tuned in to the news. This could be disastrous.

“...But anonymous sources inside the state attorney general’s office have told us there is an undercover FBI agent currently being held inside the Septarian Sect ranch.”

This is disastrous.

Everyone reacts, but Aaron walks away. He can’t face this right now. There’s too much to do, too much to think about.

Don’t do anything stupid.

He only hopes you can hear him, somehow.

Please don’t be a hero.

+++

Cyrus enters, all bluster and confidence.

Shit. Something happened.

“Which one of you is it?”

You all just stare at him. He pulls a gun from his waistband and you jump a little. The movement twinges your shoulder, and you let out a small wince.

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?”

Spencer is the first to speak. “Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?”

Yikes, Spence. Question for a question.

Wait. Maybe it will work.

Something in you tells you to keep your mouth shut, and you do. The last thing you want is to screw up whatever Spencer’s cooking up. His brain moves a lot faster than yours.

Don’t do anything stupid.

“God will forgive me for what I must do.”

You can feel your eyes widen as Cyrus raises the gun to Spencer’s head. You’re completely frozen, as if something’s physically holding you in place.

Don’t be a hero.

You’ve been shot, idiot. Your shock response is all over the place.

No, it’s different.

Yeah. Sure.

You roll your eyes at yourself, but quickly cover it by crinkling your face up in what you hope looks like confusion.

“I - I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cyrus looks at you and you shake your head, doing your best to look like a deer in headlights. “One of you does,” he says. “Who is it?”

Before you can open your mouth, Emily jumps in without hesitation. “Me. It’s me.”

Spencer looks at her like she’s grown a second head. Cyrus lowers the gun and you take a breath. You don’t have much time to recover, though, as Cyrus snatches Emily by the hair and drags her out of the room.

Your breath catches and you leap to your feet with Spencer. The dizziness doesn’t phase you, but your concern for Emily certainly does.

Don’t cry.

Don’t be a hero.

There’s a gun to your head and you do your best to relax. You raise your good arm into the air, as if you could be a threat with a half-inch hole through your shoulder.

Shit.

+++

Between your gunshot wound and now listening to Emily getting the shit beat out of her, this is a bad day for Aaron.

Someone else hauls you by your bad arm into another room, and you can’t help but yelp. They need to listen to Emily now, so you do your best to stifle the urge to cry out. You’ll answer all the questions as quietly as possible.

They need to hear Emily.

Aaron, please have ears in there.

+++

Aaron very nearly throws the headphones off. He’d know your voice anywhere, even raised in pain. The overlapping cacophony of anguish breaks his chest wide open.

“We gotta go in.” He stands and removes his headphones, unable to listen any longer.

Rossi shakes his head, still tuned in. “We’d be risking the lives of everyone in there.”

+++

You can hear Emily through the wall, and you bite your tongue until it bleeds. The man (who still has a hold on your arm), throws you into a chair. You let out a small wail, but cover your mouth with your good hand before speaking. “Please, I -”

“Did you know?”

“No. No.” They need to hear Emily.

“Tribulation breeds resilience,” the man says, dropping close to you. His thumb digs into your wound. It’s too much and you internally apologize to Aaron as you let out a sob. “God rewards the resilient. He rewards those who cleanse themselves of evil.”

“Please -”

He shakes you and man does it hurt. The pain shoots from your shoulder to your fingertips and zings all the way down your back. You’re hot and cold at the same time and don’t have the energy to fight it anymore. You break down, and sound falls from your mouth as the man continues to preach at you, all the while tweaking and twisting and squeezing your shoulder.

+++

“He’s got them both.” Aaron stands, his palms pressed flat to the table. Hearing you in that kind of pain ignites something white-hot in his chest. He hurts for Emily, too, but at least she’s still able to talk.

“I can take it.” Emily’s voice rings clear through the headphones, and they all freeze.

“Wait - Wait. Listen to what she’s saying.” Dave gestures to Aaron, who reluctantly tunes back in.

“I can take it.”

Derek scoffs. “She’s antagonizing him.”

“She’s not talking to him.” Rossi remains firm.

Aaron’s hands get lost in his hair, restless and frustrated and useless. He takes a breath and ignores the sting behind his eyes. “She’s talking to us. She’s telling us not to come in.”

He knows Emily. She’s just as smart as she is strong and wouldn’t antagonize Benjamin on her own.

There’s a particularly vicious commotion and Emily falls to the ground with a sharp groan and a cough.

That’s it for Derek. He throws his headphones off and starts to pace. Aaron’s the only one who leaves the headphones on. Even then, his eyes mist up and his jaw is so tight he’s almost afraid his teeth will shatter.

+++

You slump back against the chair. “I’m sorry she lied to you. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” The words choke out of you with a gasp. Your shoulder screams and the pain is truly breathtaking.

Emily will forgive you for throwing her under the bus - you know you’d forgive her if the situation was reversed.

Cyrus throws the door open. “The agent’s going upstairs. The other two are clean.” He looks at you with a certain degree of contempt and you keep your eyes on the floor.

Don’t do anything stupid.

Don't be a hero.

Why those two phrases keep echoing around in your head, you have no idea. Nevertheless, they’re both good reminders.

You’re returned to Spencer and slide into a chair. You tip your head back against the wall and listen to Cyrus question him.

Why didn’t Spencer get beat up?

Not that you wanted Spencer to get beat up, of course, but it all seemed a little inequitable. You’d already been shot - isn’t that enough excitement for one day?

“On the next call, you should test them.”

Oh, how I love you, Spencer Reid.

He continues. “Test the negotiator. Make him prove he isn’t a liar.”

This would only work if they had ears in the building. If Spencer has faith, so do you. Tears prick at your eyes and you think of Aaron.

Please tell me he didn’t hear me. Please tell me they only had ears on Emily.

You’re still the baby of the team, the newest, the youngest. You know that’s why Aaron watches out for you so carefully. He’s just protecting you.

At least, that’s what you choose to believe. The other option is ridiculous, absurd, and nothing but wishful thinking.

Don’t be a child.

Spencer has Cyrus right where he wants him. You suppress a smile and hope it passes as a grimace.

“What about you?” Cyrus turns on you and you’re proud when you don’t flinch. “What do you think?”

You shrug with your one good shoulder. “It’s a good idea, and the offer to exchange a child for information is a show of good faith. I’m sure they’ll appreciate that.”

+++

Dave and Aaron share a glance.

“They’ve got him.”

A swell of pride crashes through Aaron’s chest. It’s just because you’re his youngest agent - the most time, the most potential. He has to keep you safe, he reasons. It’s the right thing to do.

That’s not the only reason.

He shakes his head, but the thought has its claws dug in deep.

+++

As Cyrus reads the list of names, Emily appears at your side again.

She looks awful - half her face painted with red and purple bruises, with more blossoming under her collar. You almost laugh aloud when she asks, “Are you okay?”

“Emily, you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

She huffs. “I didn’t get shot. Just a little beat up. We’re good. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Spencer’s mouth presses into a thin line. You both know she’s lying. “I’m so sorry.” Moments later, he relays the information for both your ears and your team outside.

Cyrus looks at you, and you almost think he’s going to let you go, but his gaze slides past you. Spencer approaches him and they speak in hushed tones.

When they’re through, Cyrus gestures to Emily and a pair of goons. “Take her back.”

Emily looks only the slightest bit alarm as she’s taken back upstairs by the arm. If Spencer’s in, and Emily’s out, where does that leave you?

You elect yourself Reid’s shadow, silent and always right off his shoulder. Cyrus doesn’t seem to mind too much and if he does, he doesn’t show it.

+++

“Drugging the food isn’t an option because of the children. We’ll have to go in.” The whiteboard marker twirls between Aaron’s fingers as he thinks.

Indeed. Rossi, from his place in the corner, says, “The best time to hit them is when they’re least mentally prepared.”

“3am. Biorhythms are at their low point, then.”

“We need a diversion,” Derek notes. “Something that plays into his expectations.”

Humvees, then, are clearly on the docket. As are bright lights and all the flash and glamour of federal law enforcement.

Hotch and Morgan begin to volley, both men processing and paying close attention.

“The plan depends on our people separating the diehards from the followers -”

Derek interrupts, finishing Aaron’s thought. “And delaying Cyrus’s diehards from reacting to our assault.”

“No, that’s not my main concern. They know what they need to do.”

“So what is your concern?”

“Letting them know when we’re coming. The whole thing hinges on them being ready for us at 3am.” A thought comes to him then, and he reaches for a sharpie and a lid. Maybe your weird understanding of each other will come in handy, or Spencer will be looking for those signs he alluded to with Cyrus.

Either way, it’s the only option.

+++

Downstairs with Spencer, something catches your eye.

Wait a minute.

You’d know that blocky, left-hand slanted lettering anywhere. Aaron.

Spencer sees it, too, and you share a glance. You offer him a little smile, and he nods, understanding you completely. This might just work.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Cyrus startles you a little, and you step closer to Spencer. Your wound dressing has yet to be changed today, and the heat radiating off your shoulder has made you a little jumpy.

Just my luck to survive all of this and die of an entirely treatable infection like a sickly Victorian child.

“You don’t have to be a part of this. You can go.” He addresses the both of you, and bite your tongue again. You have to trust Spencer’s plan, and you know he has one.

As you suspected, Spencer says, “I would prefer to stay. Somebody needs to tell your story.”

“I’m glad it will be you.” Cyrus turns his gaze to you, and you nod.

“I’ll stay.”

He softens a little, and calls someone over. In what feels like seconds, you’re sitting down while gentle hands clean and re-dress your wound. It hurts like all hell, but you’d rather do this than throw the whole damn arm out.

As you sit, Cyrus’s plan becomes clear. Explosives seem to pass from hand to hand without hesitation.

Where’s Emily?

+++

Aaron has no idea how long he’s been staring at the compound. He’s wound tighter than a spring, his body all straight lines of stress as Rossi approaches him.

Finally, Aaron says, “I know I can’t go in there.” There’s too much at stake, too much on the line, too many emotions. He knows, somewhere in the back of his mind in a place he won’t acknowledge, that he would prioritize you.

So, he can’t go in there.

Dave nods. “I’m going.”

“If something happens to Prentiss or Reid or…” he trails off, unable to speak the thought aloud. “I - I don’t know.”

Dave looks over at him, understanding all the things he can and can’t say. “You’re not alone.”

+++

You can feel a shift in the air as 3am creeps nearer and nearer. Outside, inside, it’s all alive with activity and anxiety. You hug your arm to your chest, nursing a bottle of water. With fresh dressings, you feel a little cleaner, a little safer, but you know it’s an illusion.

“Something’s wrong.” The goon’s observation brings Cyrus to the front window, and even over his shoulder you can see the humvees advancing on the compound.

Nice work, team.

“They lied to us,” he whispers something to his shadow. While Cyrus grabs his firearm, the shadow opens the door. The gunfire startles you, and you look to Spencer.

Tell me it’s gonna be okay.

His eyes are steady on yours and he nods almost imperceptibly. We’re going to be fine.

Some of the lights go out and your eyes dance around the room.

Aaron, this better be part of your plan.

“It came from inside the building.”

“Check the fuses.”

The rapid discussions fly around you, but you keep your eyes on Spencer as much as you can. He’s spitting verses at the men around Cyrus, stalling. Luckily, Spencer could talk about nothing and everything forever.

You knew that would come in handy one day, even if it drives you up the wall outside of life-or-death hostage situations.

“...I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Cyrus smacks Spencer with the butt of his rifle, and Spencer doubles over. You can’t help him - not with one arm and certainly not without a weapon of your own.

“You cannot convert my brothers.” Cyrus hits him again, and Spencer drops to the floor, and you crouch beside him, the very picture of fear. Oddly, you’re less afraid right now than you were before. “No one had to follow. God could have stopped me.”

There’s a breach, and you cover Spencer with your body as bullets fly past you from all sides. Cyrus goes down, and so does the detonator.

“He just did.”

You almost snort as you rise, but you rapidly remember time is of the essence.

“You alright, kid?” You’re not sure if Derek’s talking to you or Spencer, but you nod anyway.

Spencer, too, responds in kind. “Fine. Where’s Emily?”

“We got her out of here.”

The breath you’ve been holding since she disappeared again leaves you, but a heavy throb of your shoulder replaces it.

The girl you’re here for in the first place, Jessica, rounds the corner and you have a sinking feeling you know exactly what she’s going to do. Nevertheless, Derek calls out to her. “Sweetheart, come with me. We need to get you out of here. Come on. Let’s go, right now.”

You snag Spencer’s sweater in your hand and follow him to the door. You watch as Jessica takes in Cyrus’s body, clocks the detonator, and then reaches for it. Spencer leaves your grasp.

You’re hot on his heels and it’s only then you have another fleeting thought of not making it back home.

“Run!”

Derek’s behind you. You only hope it’s enough time.

The explosion rocks you to your core and for a moment you’re not sure whether you’re alive or dead. When the ringing in your ears cools off, Derek has his arm around you. The smoke covers everything. Your eyes burn, coughs rattling through your chest and wracking your shoulder.

You hear your last name, as well as Derek’s and Spencer’s. It’s Emily.

She’s scared.

Derek helps you straighten, and guides you down the steps. “We’re alright!”

You still can’t talk for your coughing, but you hear Emily’s relieved, “Oh, God.”

She meets you in the middle while Aaron waits at the bottom of the stairs. He’s watching you. Emily touches the side of your face and you lean into it. You’re a little on the outside as she gathers Spencer into her arms.

There’s something going on by Aaron, but you can’t quite hear it yet. Whatever it is, it’s over before Aaron’s hand is extended toward you. When your fingers meet his palm, he brings you close, careful of your shoulder. His hand meets the back of your head, and you press your face into his neck, blocking out as much as you can.

You don’t exchange words. There’s no need.

He tucks you under his arm and you pass Jessica’s mother, watching the burning compound with bewildered eyes.

+++

You sleep on the plane, your head resting against the window. Just as you suspected, you developed a small infection on the last day in the compound, but it’s nothing two weeks’ worth of antibiotics can’t fix.

Hotch sits beside you, pretending to read something or another. His eyes keep tracking the same line over and over again. The moments where he thought he’d lost all three of you to the explosion plays back in his mind again and again and again.

You can hear him thinking and you crack an eyelid. “Hotch.”

He immediately turns his head, ready to get whatever you need. Frankly, you look miserable. “Yeah?”

“We’re fine.”

An eyebrow raises.

“Fine. I’m shot and Emily’s beat to hell, but we’re alive.” You reach for his sleeve, running your fingers over the fabric. “I think you saved my ass, by the way.”

You pull your hand back. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Something in me kept telling me ‘Don’t do anything stupid!’ ‘Don’t be a hero!’ and I’m certain it can be attributed to your undue influence on me.”

The corners of his lips turn up just the tiniest amount. “Maybe so.” He slips his blazer off and drapes it over you. “Sleep. You need it.” He sees you about to interrupt him and cuts you off. “If I see you in the office at all before next week…” The empty threat speaks for itself.

“Trust me. After my near-death experience, the last thing I want to be looking at is you.”

Liar.

“The feeling is mutual. You look terrible.” He smiles for real this time and you return it. A whisper passes through his head, and he pretends he doesn’t notice.

Liar.

+++

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

Tyrants | Chapter Four - Peril

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, drug use, Tig being Tig. The usual SOA shit. Sorry Donna..

She always saw the beauty in darkness. The lugubrious belle that came alongside the moon and stars and whatever else lurked amidst the murk of nighttime.

Isla was cliche in that sense.

She was cliche in the sense that she adored watching the sun set, swallowed by the mountains and high-rise buildings as the evening fell and Charming was painted black.

And maybe it was mostly melancholic because of the horrors that swathed that small town, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

She still liked to bask in the scenery, to discern the marvel of her home, from the highest point she could access. And, sometimes, she liked to take somebody along with her so she wasn't completely alone.

"Why'd you still come up here?" Ope asked, pulling himself onto the roof as she sat with her back to the wall--puffing on a cigarette.

"Because it's quiet." She was content, comfortable with her response. "And whenever I'm looking for Jax, or Gem, or my dad--or they're looking for me--this is where we're almost always found. Just people watching, or reminiscing, or having a few minutes to ourselves away from the chaos downstairs."

It wasn't an unknown safe space--Gemma had told her that JT and Clay would climb up there during the earliest days of the club--but it was special.

Jax, Opie, and Isla spent time up there as kids, too. Because they were bastards and were always running from their fathers--and den mother--and the roof of the clubhouse was their go-to.

She never really got out of that habit. She'd spend hours up there if she could, just watching as Charming bustled beneath her. And she liked that it was separate to the garage, but everyone knew where to find her if they needed her.

"It clears your head, being up here." She added. "I have got so much shit going on right now--between work, and my personal life--but coming up here is like a refreshment, I guess."

Opie understood what she meant because he was also seeking comfort in the night. Riding through dusk, spending time alone on his bike as he cruised the streets of his quaint town, relishing in the darkness because it was strangely comforting to him.

He liked to be alone. His thoughts were brutal and they seared his brain left and fucking right, but he liked his own company.

"Wish I thought about comin' up here when I was released from holding." The man chuckled, balancing a cigarette between his lips. "Stahl grilled the fuck outta me."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She really fuckin' did." He added, grunting as smoke blew from his nostrils. "Did she get you? I know she got Gemma."

"Nope, she didn't. I don't know why, though. She interrogated everyone else. Starting to feel a little left out."

Opie chuckled, smiling a bit. "Be glad. It's obvious that she's used to getting what she wants."

"And did you give it to her?"

"Fuck no." Isla smiled. Proud. "She can cross-examine me all she fuckin' wants—I'll never sell the club out."

"They know that, Ope."

"I know." Half confidently, he nodded. "Just—Stahl made me second guess it all, y'know?"

Nobody in Charming--aside from the PD--knew where that despicable bitch came from, and nobody cared to ask.

What they did know, though, was that she had her heart set on making that town a living fucking hell as she strived to eradicate the Sons of Anarchy by getting to its members.

She'd grilled everyone she could've. She cornered Gemma when she was out running errands, leaving the grocery store with a sour taste in her mouth when Teller told her where to fucking shove it.

Same went for Jax, and Clay, and Chibs, and Tig, and...Well, all of them told her to get fucked, actually.

None of them caved. None of them wanted to sell the club out because there was no reason to.

Well, there was a reason to, but no desire to.

There'd been murders. Three, to be specific. And one of them just happened to be a police officer--which was quite unlucky, but it wasn't awful.

They hated cops.

What they hated more, however, was the idea of getting caught by them. And Clay was. Somehow, anyway.

Piney's old "friend"--Nate Meineke--needed quality, albeit illegal, guns with no traceability to attack the convoy that was transporting one of his friends from point A to point B. And it went as swimmingly as possible...

Until June Stahl was put on the case and found that idiot's phone at the scene after dropping it mid-ambush.

Clay just happened to be the last person he had called. Which then caused the investigation to point toward Charming.

They all knew the Sons were guilty of supplying those weapons. Who else would it have been? They were known for running illegal firearms without batch numbers from a quaint Californian town whose name didn't quite fit its image.

It was blatant, though nobody gave it up.

But Stahl tried her damndest to get answers. And when she didn't, she targeted the member that she saw to be the most vulnerable--after a hit went wrong and he failed to cover his tracks--and Opie just happened to be that guy.

She questioned him for hours. She practically held the man captive in that little cell until he caved. But he didn't--and he wasn't going to, either.

He was loyal. That's one of the reasons why Jax wanted to patch him back in.

"Yeah, I know." Isla got to her feet when she heard Tig yelling for her downstairs. "But you're the strongest guy I know, Ope. I don't think Stahl, of all people, is gonna get to you."

He shrugged her off, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gravelly ground of the roof.

Opie had changed. Not much, and it wasn't very apparent, but he'd changed. Chino had changed him, she thought.

He was still dedicated to his club, still in love with the reaper and the responsibility that came with the patch--but Opie Winston lacked that flicker of enthusiasm now.

"How does your dad feel about you being back at the table?"

"Said he's proud of me."

He was a man of very, very few words. But the tone that he took--the sheer relief twined into contentment--spoke a greater volume.

Piney would always support his son, feel a sense of gratification from his involvement in the club. And, of course, Ope felt grateful to be back--but it was different now.

He'd served time for his club. Donna consistently argued that they sold him out and that he was fucking stupid for running back into the arms of SAMCRO.

But it was his brotherhood. The Sons of Anarchy were his family--his lifeline. He was nothing if not blessed to be patched back in.

"And I guess that wife of yours isn't too happy about it?"

"How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," she ignored that Tig was waiting for her, standing directly in front of him. "If she was genuinely thrilled about you being back here, she'd have been coming to Gemma's dinners, and spending more time at the clubhouse with us. But she isn't, and I'm starting to realize that she probably hates me now."

His head shook. "She doesn't hate you. It's just...It's just raw. Weird being back, I think."

"She didn't even have to leave. She knows that."

Donna did know that. But there was always something about Gemma. About the way she let things slide so often, how she felt that she had Clay so pussy whipped that he'd be at her every beck and call--but, really, that was redundant. Because Gemma let him get away with fucking murder.

Literally.

"Is she gonna be there tonight?

"Of course. She wouldn't miss Jax's son coming home." He got up, reaching for her hands. "Sorry that she's been so distant with you, Isla. But she's just been stressed out--money worries and the kids and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Donna wasn't traditionally a worrier. But five years worth of finances, being a single mom, and fretting over her husband potentially not making it out of prison alive, just did that to a woman.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so." Grateful for her offering, though recognizing how damn stubborn his wife was, he conceded. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And if you change your mind, or need me, you know where I am--"

"Isla!"

"He is getting on my last fucking nerve today." She groaned, flipping Tig off as she looked over the ledge. "I'm coming! Give me a minute!"

"I've given you plenty of minutes! Just get your ass down here!"

"Just go," Ope chuckled, leaning down to peck her cheek. "We can have this talk another time."

Isla turned back to him, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go 'n talk to him--I'll see you tonight."

He was such a nice guy. So considerate, kind.

She loved him a lot.

The flouncy sundress rose to the middle of her thighs as she sauntered through the clubhouse, hearing Trager talking--rather conspicuously, though slightly muffled--to somebody on his cell.

"C'mon, Tiggy. Why'd you yell at me?"

He waved his hand to shut her up, gesturing for the blonde to follow him out of the clubhouse and toward his bike.

"Yeah, cool. K, brother--see 'ya later. Bye." He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his cut, swiveling to face Isla with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The party?" Tig told her, watching confusion sweep over her face. "I'm taking you over 'cuz you want a drink and don't wanna drive home after? And that you're probably gonna end up heading home with Juice, or something--"

"Juice?"

"It always happens," he shrugged, pointing at the helmet he set out for her at the back of his bike. "We all head out, you get too drunk, you take a liking to Juicy, and you try to ride his dick."

"What?" Isla got herself situated behind him as he got on first, her arms wound around his waist. "That was one time. I've only slept with him once, and I told you it'd never happen again."

"And why is that?"

Her cheeks flushed red, the engine revving sending vibrations through her entire frame.

"Because he was too gentle." Tig's foot collided with the kickstand.

"And the little Catholic girl likes it rough."

She felt the solid gold crucifix burning a hole into her chest.

"Yes. I like it rough." He groaned, leaning into her. She swatted at his chest over his shoulder, laughing heartily. "Just take me to see the baby, dickhead."

The bike sped out of the lot and Isla was loving the thrill of being on two wheels. She'd always liked being stuck to the back of somebody's Harley--but she'd never own one herself.

Isla was like Gemma. She felt stable enough riding with somebody, but riding alone--being in control of the motorcycle--was fucking terrifying.

Jax and Opie had encouraged her to take a ride at one point, but it didn't end very well, and Chibs spent the best part of two hours trying to stitch his daughter back up whilst Gemma castigated the two imbeciles who thought it was even reminiscent of a good idea.

Weaving through traffic gracefully, freely, was appealing to her, however. But she wouldn't be caught dead--alone--on a fucking bike.

Plus, she quite enjoyed being taken places. Escorted by a member of the club. It was safe.

The wind whirred and whipped around them, and she wished she didn't make the effort with her hair tonight. It was ruined, tousled to within an inch of its life, and she dreaded the thought of having to brush the knots out in Jax's bathroom.

Still, commuting via Harley was a hell of a lot quicker and had a few more benefits than commuting via car.

But the looks that they got were piercing. Horrible. Mainly from Hale stationed beside his squad car, watching as Isla and Tig raced down the freeway.

"He likes you." He spoke over the roaring engine when he hit the first stop light all night. "He hates that you've never given him a chance--"

"He's a cop, and I'm the outlaw's daughter. I've been raised to hate his kind."

Tig nodded his approval, setting off once again when the light switched to green and all opposing traffic stood still.

At one strange point in time, David Hale had his sights set on Isla Telford. He was in love with her. Completely besotted.

And she never gave him a second glance because, for one, she wasn't interested. He hated that she was so close to Jax and Opie, but not him, and he wished that she'd push herself away from the bad guys to grow closer to the heroic law-enforcer.

But he was a control freak above everything else, and Isla was just a free-spirit. She was loyal to her friends and family but she didn't want to get tied down, and she didn't want to become friendly with a fucking cop.

The only cop she liked was crooked. And Unser was in a similar spot to her--a little too affiliated with SAMCRO, but not completely doted on. Though, they were both strangely essential fixtures, and Clay would've been lost without them.

"Juice is here." Tig taunted as he helped her off the bike, holding her hand when she stumbled over herself a little. "Try to keep those panties on."

"Can't make any promises, Tiger." Her growl was seductive, though he knew that she was fucking with him.

She'd given up rebuking his claims, instead feeding into them because, with Trager, she couldn't seem to win. He was sleazy, and she loved that back and forth.

What she loved more, though, was that he was comfortable. He was a strange man, and nobody really understood just where he came from, but Isla liked that she could make jokes of any kind around him. He was easy to get along with. Easy to love.

And, man, did she love Alex Trager.

"If you do fuck him, though, would you make a video?"

Isla stepped into Jax's front room, turning on her heels. "Who said that we haven't already got one?"

She chuckled and wandered into the party, leaving Tig with a few convoluted thoughts and even more raunchy questions.

"Fuck. Gemma taught her well." He grumbled under his breath, reaching for the beer in Half-Sack's hand.

He slumped on the couch, motioning for his usual lay to sit in his lap as he watched Juice fawn over his little blonde friend making conversation with some other random woman already.

"Yeah, totally..." she agreed with whatever the girl was saying, but her eyes were glued on Tara. Just floating around the party.

She felt bad that the doctor was alone. Despite all that she thought of her, being out of ones depth in such an intimidating setting wasn't very nice. And Isla was an empath.

"D'ya think anyone 'round here has any nail glue?"

"Gemma might." She smiled, pointing toward the kitchen.

Grateful that she managed to shake that one off, Isla weaved through the small conclave and sat beside Tara, offering a friendly face during a time of such discomfiture.

Her heart was aching, the sheer nervousness was palpable, and she knew that Tara felt the same way too.

But Isla just sucked it up. Because she wanted to talk to her, and had to be the one to initiate it.

"Thanks for coming." Her smile was wide, genuine.

She offered a beer to the brunette, hoping that she'd take it.

"Thanks for asking me here." Tara accepted it, glad that Isla remembered she wasn't particularly a wine girl like herself.

Christ. This is awkward.

"Trust me, you were the first person I asked to come tonight."

"How so?"

"Well," a little bit more comfortably, she faced her completely, "you've literally nursed Abel back to health. You've been there every step of the way. You've been the best surgeon. And, as much as I hate to say it, you helped Wendy so much, Tara. I'm really thankful for all that you've done for this family."

"It's my job." She tried to brush the comments off, but her heart definitely fluttered at the praise.

Isla never changed. She was still the sweetest soul, she thought.

"I know, but you've had it rough with this lot--with Gemma, I mean."

"She isn't anything I can't handle." Confidently, she asserted.

"I know, and I'm glad that you're able to stand your ground." Reluctant, a hand landed against Tara's palm.

She jolted a little bit, but softened into the embrace.

It was comfy, warm. Prosperous, perhaps, because it meant something. Tara not jerking away and leaving once Isla offered a friendly embrace, was promising.

They spoke about the baby for a little while, and shared a few laughs at Tig's expense. It was strange, really. To be talking to her ex-best friend was strange, but she'd missed it.

Donna joined the mix, too, and it was starting to feel like old times. Isla recognized that they'd never slip back into that routine, the dedication to one another that they'd known when they were kids--but it was nice.

The conversation stuttered and it wasn't able to flow as freely as what she might've liked, but it was a start.

To know that she had something resembling an acquaintanceship with two women she admired, was nice.

And Jax introducing his baby to his brand new home, to his extended family that were already so fucking dedicated to him, was just the most wonderful thing ever.

"What about a beer?" Clay joked, holding the bottle close to Abel. Jax laughed, though he shook his hand away. "What? Grandpa can't give him his first beer?"

"No, he can't."

"I'll take it, though. If you're offerin'." Chibs grabbed the Budweiser and twisted the cap with the leather grip of his glove.

He gestured to Isla, tipping it toward her. "Want some?"

"No, you're alright." She went back to her wine, smiling at that little bundle of happiness in Jax's arms, wondering how the hell he'd gotten to be in this position now.

But it was because of Tara. Her commitment, her talent, and sheer want to help that angel through the roughest patch that a baby could have possibly been thrust into.

How Gemma could still loathe that girl--after everything she did--was beyond her completely.

Tara was the unlikeliest hero in Abel's story.

"Why is it that every time I see you, your highlights get more chunky?" Gemma smiled at the comment, turning to see her favorite girl, flaunting the most beautiful smile.

She handed Isla the bottle of whatever wine Chibs could get this evening, unable to quit beaming at the thought of her grandson finally being at home. Where he belonged.

"I told you I'd do them for you, Gem."

"I know," she nodded, playing with a few strands of hair, "I was gonna ask you, but you've been a little distant this week--didn't wanna add to your workload, baby."

"That's super considerate of you. Are you alright?" Isla teased, holding a hand to Gemma's forehead.

She slapped it away with a laugh. "Fuck you. I'm always considerate."

"Sure you are. That's why Wendy is here, right?"

"No," her head shook, "she's here 'cuz this is her house. If I had it my way, she'd be out on her ass faster than what you could even say 'crank whore.'"

Isla wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, tipping her head toward the blonde in the living room.

"I thought you made sure she was gonna be here tonight?" Confused, she quizzed.

She was under the impression that Wendy was starting to grow on her. After she'd tried to kill her, of course.

"I did," Gem confirmed. "But only because I knew it'd be awkward between her and Tara."

Amazed, or maybe fucking horrified, Isla simply glared at her.

It should've been obvious to her--plain as day--that Gemma Teller doing a good thing was simply a bullshit facade, built in order to take away from the fact she wanted to do an inherently bad thing.

But Isla liked to see the good in people, so it wasn't. And that really was one of her mot fatal flaws.

"She thanked me for letting her stay, too."

"And what'd you say to her?" Almost as if she didn't want to know the answer, she asked.

Black nails danced along the rim of her wine glass as she leaned against the counter, watching everybody enjoy themselves as they bitched and moaned.

"That she's lucky to be alive."

"Jesus, Gem," her head shook disparagingly, disappointed perhaps.

But being surprised that the woman made a threatening comment toward Wendy, was just as stupid as being surprised at Tig for fucking another hooker during his free time.

"You've gotta keep her close, ma. She's the mother of your grandson, the woman your son did love at one point."

Ma. The word rolled off her tongue unintentionally most of the time, but she didn't hate it.

Gemma was the mother figure in her life--hell, she was the mother figure in a few of the Sons' lives--and it didn't feel weird using that around her. It was affectionate. She adored it.

"Jax never loved her," matter of fact, she retorted. "They got drunk together. They smoked dope together. They didn't love one another--"

"They got married." Isla reminded her. "They have a kid together. They have a lot of history."

"Just because they have history, doesn't mean they love one another. You've got history with him."

Her chuckle was throaty, almost a full-on splutter. "We have not got that same history--we're friends, Gem, you know that's different."

She supposed the blonde was right.

There was hell of a contrast between friends for life and friends with benefits--and Gemma knew that. She just didn't like that Jax gravitated toward Wendy when he'd always had Isla right there in front of him.

Though, she was more than aware that the pair didn't look at each other that way--she still lauded the thought of the two together.

"I still hate her."

"I know," Isla laughed at Gemma's irritability, sipping on her wine, enjoying the sight of everybody having a damn good time.

"She's checking into rehab, too."

"Really? Where?"

"Some place in Oakland, I think." Gemma added, smiling at Clay when he wandered over to the pair. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"You think she's gonna stick to it?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya." He answered for his wife, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Isla's cheek. "She's determined though, I'll give her that."

"Yeah?" His nod was optimistic--strange for Clay Morrow. "Well, I'm glad she's working on herself, anyway. She's got potential."

"You hate her."

"I know." She didn't refute the assertion. "But I'm still happy for her."

At least somebody is.

She wasn't lying. Wendy was a good girl, a woman tortured for no good reason. And she felt for her, she really did.

It'd been a shock, finding out that she was pregnant. But it wasn't like they weren't expecting it--what with the rate she and Jax were going at it.

From the start, Isla and Gemma were worried. She was notorious for her crank habit and the girls thought she was going to kill herself before she had the chance to see her son into the world.

And that almost happened, didn't it?

The doctors at St. Thomas were fucking miracle workers--Isla was on pins and needles waiting for a call to say that Wendy and Abel were okay.

But she tried not to dwell on that, now. They were both as healthy and Abel was as happy as he could've been, so Isla was content. She wasn't pleased, but she was comfortable with the way that things were going.

Tara, however.

"No!" She yelled, backing out of the nursery. "No, fuck you, Jax."

Juice stumbled backward when she nudged him out of the way, pulling her purse from the kitchen counter.

Isla and Gemma couldn't not stare.

"Tara, c'mon!" Jax called after her, but it was too late.

The front door had been slammed shut and the party came to a complete standstill. A thickening tension was shrouding the group, and things were only just starting to simmer.

"What was that all about?" The blonde asked Juice, leaning against the island.

She didn't want to prove Tig to be right but, after a few glasses of wine, Juan Carlos Ortiz was starting to pique her interests.

He swallowed thickly, watching Clay leave the room. "He said something about Wendy--wanting to keep whatever it is that he and Tara have going on the down low so it doesn't set her off, or something."

Makes sense.

"He has a point. She's doing really well lately." He continued. "Jax would hate to stunt her progress by shoving his relationship with Tara in her face."

Isla was rattled.

Jax hadn't talked to her in days, and she wasn't aware that so much had changed. She wasn't aware that he had established a relationship with Tara Knowles.

Again.

You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another.

She was too irritated to reside in that same room as Gemma, now. Knowing the conversation she'd initiate the second that Juice left was too fucking much. So she left first, instead.

The living room was almost empty. Just Clay, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs sat around the couches as Donna, the kids, and Ope were preparing to set off.

Everything was annoying her, now. She hadn't made the effort with Donna all night, but she was pissed that she hadn't started to say goodbye to her yet.

Isla was so fucking irritated that she didn't even want to talk to Tig, or her father. So she didn't.

"Where're you going, petal?" Chibs asked, hindering her plan to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the night. He knew that she'd crack a smile at the nickname.

"I was just wandering. Not really sure what to do with myself."

"Come sit down," he gestured to the space between himself and Tig, and wound an arm around her when she met the leather. "I've missed 'ya."

"Tonight? Or just in general."

"In general. It's been a few days, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." Her head rested against his Sgt. At Arms patch, and she sighed. "Work has been so fucking busy and I feel like I haven't gotten a moment to myself this week."

Isla only worked a part-time gig at some shitty salon just on the outskirts of Charming--edging into Stockton--but she hated her job.

She hated driving into the city every morning and evening, wasting a fuck ton of her paycheck on gas when, really, there was no point.

She hated her cunt boss.

Hated her cunt clients.

She hated that nobody really spoke to her because of who her father was. And when they did speak to her, it was almost like they were scared. Of Isla.

Gemma had always promised her that there was a space at the auto shop for her had she needed it, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to answer to Gemma and Clay every single day.

Well, more than what she already was, anyway.

"Who'd 'a thought that being a hairdresser was so demanding?"

"Me, apparently." She joked, watching Tig get up and leave the room.

It'd turned somber. A little too bleak for her liking, but she guessed that everyone felt a bit awkward after Tara stamped out and Jax sat on his porch. Alone. With a bottle of whiskey.

She hated the hold that woman had over him sometimes. The way he was so fucking devoted to Tara Knowles that she could literally slap him, scream in his face, and ruin his son's homecoming party--and he would still pine for her.

She'd never understand that.

And she didn't understand how such a lively bunch of individuals had mellowed out over the course of two hours, either.

The party had disappeared. Dissipated into nothing and the atmosphere she once lauded was completely dead in the water.

It was fucking grim, and she couldn't wait to head home.

"Can I come with you tonight?"

"Why'd you even ask? Y'know you're welcome to come home with your old man whenever you want." Chibs told her a little bit stern, though it was essentially full of love.

She just smiled up at him, a bit buzzed. But she was having a good-ish time and who was he to chastise her for drinking a little too much tonight?

"Wanna head off now?"

"Yeah--lemme just say 'bye' to Gemma."

"Alright, I'll be out front. Don't forget your purse." He reminded, knowing she was too ditsy for her own good.

Chibs helped her to her feet, letting go of her hand only to part ways for a few moments.

Her mood was perking up, now. The prospect of being able to spend a few hours with her dad after a long fucking day, was just the best.

And she'd really missed him. Missed the time they once had an abundance of. Missed the evenings that they'd spend talking, drinking, watching movies, doing the generic father daughter activities.

They hadn't had that for a while, and it was truly a blessing that it was within reach tonight.

Well. It was within reach for all of five minutes.

"Oh my God--" Gemma's cell slipped from between black nails and bounced across the table. Saturated hues were locked on Isla, and her head shook.

"What?"

"There's--there's been an accident." She managed to muster out. "Or, maybe a drive-by, I don't know, but Donna--"

"Donna?" Piney's attention was snatched at the mention of his daughter-in-law. He stood up. "What about her?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Gemma was going to say because it was just the usual now, wasn't it?

Being affiliated with SAMCRO just did that to somebody. Man, woman, child. They didn't fucking care.

"She's--Piney, she's dead."

#tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy #jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller

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binniedeactivated · 3 years

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𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 ↺ || 𝐡.𝐤.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐱 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝!𝐩𝐨𝐜 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐚𝐮 , "𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐚𝐮.

𝐖/𝐂 | 15.389k

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | (𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 "𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫") 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥, 𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐚𝐢.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬.

a/n; i miss making legit fics for yall ;(((((( and I feel bad because I haven’t been writing as much as I should I’m so so sorry <3

“so what are you? sophomore? freshman?”. bria asks, stuffing her foot into her platformed converse. gabrielle nods, folding a shirt and inserting it into her drawer. “wow I wasn’t expecting them to give me a freshman for a roommate”. she scoffs kind of smug. “is that a problem?”. gabrielle speaks up, pushing a puffy curly strand of hair over to the other side of her head. bria only grinned and shook her head no. “nah. that just means I have a lot to teach you”.

“teach me?”.

“yeah”, bria agrees, in the mirror coating her lips with gloss. bria was a dark skinned five foot eight beauty. if gabrielle didn’t know any better she’d mistake her for a model almost. she had gorgeous curly afro hair, similar to that of a lion’s mane. gabrielle hadn’t saw much of her wardrobe yet but just by the edgy outfit she was already wearing she could tell that her style was to die for. her lips were thick and full and complimented her cat-like eyes well. gabrielle thought maybe she could pick up a few tips from her, especially with makeup. it was so perfect she could feel herself shrinking into her own insecurities. she thought she was pretty decent looking but no where near bria's level. gabrielle herself had honey brown skin, big brown curly hair with lots of volume. heart shaped lips. large brown wistful eyes with clear glasses frames worn over them. she was sort of chubby. her physique wasn't something she saw as a win in her eyes. her chest was average sized and her ass was there yet barely visible. and her waist definitely wasn't as snatched as bria's. but still, if she was going to be in college amongst those who looked different from her she had to try and gain some type of confidence about herself.

“what is there to teach me?”.

bria scoffs again, screwing the cap back onto her gloss. “you don’t want to know what it’s like to live the life here? trust me girl I’m almost a senior I can teach you a few things”.

“like what? if you’re talking about partying and all that I’m going to have to pass. I just got here and I don’t want to be running into trouble”.

“girl how is partying going to get you in trouble? you’re grown now. you don’t have you parents watching over you anymore. you can be free and do what you want to do”.

gabrielle grabs another shirt. “yeah but suppose one of ya’ll do some illegal shit? and then what? I can’t tell the cops that I wasn’t involved because I’m just a freshman. I’m going to jail right with ya’ll”.

bria tilts her head back and laughs. “you’re a trip if you think we ever do illegal shit and get caught”.

gabrielle shuts her drawer, moving another box across the room to her desk. “yeah well, I don’t want to be involved anyway. even the risk is too much. plus I don’t know how my boyfriend is going to feel about me out partying with other guys and shit”.

bria made a tsk noise with her lips prior to walking to her closet for her collection of purses. “you really came to college with a boyfriend? just how dumb are you?”.

“what? what’s wrong with having a boyfriend?”.

“girl do I even have to ask? look at you. you’re already uptight. you don’t want to party, you’re worried about what he might think. he already has you right where he wants you. living a boring life like him”.

gabrielle shifts her weight on her feet. “he doesn’t--live a boring life. he’s just protective”.

“tsk. that’s what he told you?”.

“well yeah--”.

“how old is your little boyfriend?”.

“he’s seventeen”.

bria tilts her head back and does that laugh again. the one that made gabrielle seem out out of place. mostly because she didn’t know what was funny to begin with. “yeah he’s young he’s still a senior in high school so what?”. she quickly defends.

“girl that ain’t gonna work. you’re in college you have to level up”.

“my boyfriend is fine. he’s all the leveling up I need”.

“mhm. we’ll see about that. anyways, I’m going to my girlfriend’s suite later you should come”.

“suite?”.

bria rolls her eyes. “girl relax we’re not going to be doing anything illegal. just chilling. maybe a little drinking or smoking but--i wouldn’t call that illegal”.

“drinking and smoking? I’ll pass”.

“you don’t have to do it. you’re acting like there’s going to be people there forcing you. it’s going to be her friends and a little bit of mine. if you want to make some lit friends quickly then I suggest you come so you can get yourself out there a little”.

“don’t worry. I can make friends in my classes”.

“aren’t you a biology major?”.

“yeah”.

“then you definitely need to come. or else you’re going to be playing battle of the nerds these next four years”.

gabrielle rolls her eyes, “what’s your major anyways?”.

“fashion design”.

gabrielle nods her head in response. that made a whole lot of sense.

“so? gabby? you coming or what because if so I want to see what you’re wearing”.

“it’s just a suite gathering right? I’m not trying to wear nothing special. probably like a sweater, some ripped jeans and sneakers”.

“pft ‘gathering’. you are so proper. outfit sounds cute but don’t you want to wear something a little revealing? you need to get a new man”.

gabrielle rolls her eyes. “like i said before I’m happy with the guy I have. and no I don’t want to wear anything revealing, have these guys out here thinking that they’re going to get a chance to fuck me”.

“and what’s wrong with that?”.

“everything”.

“whatever. I’ll be back to come grab you later. be ready.”. bria prompts before swinging a bag over her shoulder and leaving the room. gabrielle rolls her eyes. she continues organizing the knick knacks on her desk, most importantly the picture of her and her boyfriend. she missed him dearly and with her college being two hours away from home she didn’t know what she was going to do away from him from so long. texting and facetiming helped but there was nothing like being around him. she huffs her breath though, trying to push the thought to the back of her mind until she was ready to think of it again.

when she started getting dressed she was thinking more and more about what bria was saying. she wanted to look like herself but she still wanted to look cute because at the end of the day, she didn’t know bria or her girlfriend’s friends. this would be their first impression of her so she wanted to make it count. she pulls a scrunchie through her ponytail in a half up half down hairstyle and throws on a couple of hand rings and necklaces to go along with her outfit. she wasn’t too keen on makeup but she did apply winged eyeliner and a bit of lipstick just to keep herself from looking too plain. she looked over at herself in the mirror almost one hundred times, posing so she could see herself from different angles. she wondered if she really looked as good as she thought she did.

“girl you ready--ou okay! so you want to get a new man tonight after all?”. bria says while barging in, scaring the hell out of gabrielle. “damn can you stop screaming? no I don’t want a new man. I just want to look nice”. bria smirks. “whatever. if we don’t leave now we’re going to get there hella late so let’s go”.gabrielle nods and takes her phone off it’s charger. it was getting kind of dark outside but she could already hearing laughing and playing inside the quads of campus. she figured night time was only the beginning of all the fun.

“so? how is it here for real?”. gabrielle asked while they were walking, bria held her phone in her face preparing to take a selfie. “it’s actually not that bad. it’s just like every other college. has it’s pros and cons but at the end of the day, it depends on who you know. as long as you surround yourself with lit people you’ll have a good time”. gabrielle nods. she wanted to surround herself with those kind of people but she needed to focus on her studies. in high school she wasn’t in the mix too much. so she didn’t really know how she was going to function being around them in college. for the most part she had good control over herself, so she wasn’t worried.

when bria said suite, gabrielle wasn’t taking it quite literal. she hadn’t known the seniors practically had two floor suites together. gabrielle had never felt the sudden urge to rush and be a senior in her life. the living room was full with a bunch of people which automatically gave gabrielle anxiety. bria kisses her girlfriend on the lips before intertwining her fingers with hers. “babe this is my roommate gabby. gabby this is my girlfriend diamond”. gabrielle gave her a shy greeting trying to figure out if everyone bria knew looked just as good as she did. diamond was also a fair-skinned doll. “she’s a freshman I’m trying to make her make some friends”. bria comments. “they roomed you with a freshman?”. diamond asks. “right? that’s what I thought. but don’t worry she’s gonna be lit soon”. gabrielle rolls her eyes and scans around the room. there were people in the living room and kitchen it seemed. there was music playing and some of them was drinking and/or smoking and some weren’t which gabrielle liked.

when scanning though she wasn’t expecting her eyes to land on a certain someone, or rather, a certain someone’s eyes to be landed on her. his hair was black and long down the nape of his neck and over his eyes a bit. he wore a black hoodie, black jeans and sneakers. his overall aesthetic was dark gabrielle noticed, he also had a couple of finger nails painted black and a large cuban linked necklace peeking from his hoodie collar. his lips were pink and supple and his eyes were deep set and light brown, boring into hers. needless to say gabrielle thought he was the most gorgeous thing she’s ever laid her eyes on. she looks away to avoid his gaze and he smirks in response.

bria went around introducing her to everyone before going elsewhere with diamond. it kind of scared gabrielle because now she was forced to fiend for herself. everyone seemed considerably chill though and welcoming, offering her blunts and drinks to which she kindly declined. they didn’t seem to care, instead talked to her about other things like asking her her major and telling her how pretty she was. and every so often she’d try to join in the conversation to stay on her toes. she thought college gatherings would be much more crazier than this, maybe some project X party type of scene. she was shocked to see how cool they actually were, and how easily she clicked with them. things didn’t start getting a little wilder until later when a bunch of them gathered in the middle of the floor to play a drunk spin the bottle game. something gabrielle declined also, well, her and others. specifically that guy that was staring at her earlier, whom was leaning on the wall talking to some of his friends. his eyes broke away from them and fled to her every so often, admiring how pretty she was. and if anyone knew heuning kai, which everyone had, they knew that girls like gabrielle were the type of girls he aimed for.

“I take it that you don’t drink or party often?”. he spoke lightly, making gabrielle almost freeze in place. his voice was smoother than she imagined it. subtle, yet serious. “um--yeah it’s not really my thing”. she assures nervously, wanting more than anything to detach from his eyes but he was leaning on the kitchen counter near her and he had this addictive gaze that she couldn’t get enough of. not to mention he was six feet even, tall enough to be quite intimidating over her five foot five frame. “what’s your name?”. he smirked a little at her nervous fidgeting. “gabrielle”. he nods. “hm. gabrielle. you pretty. you know that?”. he took a quick sip of his drink and it was there where she noticed the silver rings around his fingers. why the hell was he so attractive?

“thank you”.

“i don’t really do all of this either. maybe we can chill somewhere together”.

gabrielle scoffs. “no, I’m fine. I know what guys mean when they say they want to chill. and I’m not that type of girl”.

“I’m not the type of guy to beat around the bush. if i wanted something from you I would’ve just said it. but”, he shrugs. “I want to hang with you. and if you don’t want to that’s fine”.

she bit the inside of her cheeks thinking, which was a bad move because by the the time she conjured up an answer he already walked off, leaving her feeling kind of stupid and the scene ate at her for days. she kept thinking of other answers she could’ve given him to make her seem less rude. he probably hated her now and thought she was uptight. one thing’s for sure she wasn’t going to tell bria about this just to avoid the teasing and taunting about it all. but gabrielle couldn’t help herself. she found herself wanting heuning kai’s attention. she wanted to be the girl that he desired. and ever since that night it seemed as if she saw him everywhere.

“he’s so fucking cute--”. her seatmate mutters in philosophy, gabrielle was too busy doodling on the edge of her notebook sheet to pay attention. “who?”. she asked without even looking up. “him”.

she shifts her attention away from her paper and captures a sight of kai. his hair was parted over his eyes this time and he wore a white turtleneck underneath a black ripped jean jacket. he still had different fingernails of his painted black, and a thin silver necklace wrapped tightly around his neck. gabrielle watched as his hair sifted every time he walked. he was the type of gorgeous where every time you saw him it was like everything was happening in slow motion. he had the fair share of girls surround him and his guy friends who encouraged him to sit by them. while he was on his way to his seat his eyes locked with gabrielle’s for a swift moment. her heart raced. her seatmate tapped her vigorously. “girl! who was he looking at?! was he looking at you?”. she whispered excitedly. the professor arrives and sits his bag down on the desk in front of the class. “I don’t know”.

“I’m assuming you’re all coming to class with a fresh memory of the reading from last night”, professor witman started, “I want you to take out your notebooks, laptops, phones or whatever you use to take your notes on and I want to ask you this, would you rather be a big fish in a small pond or a small fish in a big pond? and why?”. he takes a piece of chalk and scrawls the letters on the blackboard. “I want you to be really thinking about this”. almost instantly gabrielle could see everyone writing or typing away. but she was too deep in thought. about the question, and about heuning kai. he stared at her like that frequently and she never knew what it meant. or how she could reproach him. she was far too intimidated to. maybe he would’ve shrugged her off. maybe he would’ve just flat out ignored her. he had enough clout and divine looks to deny anyone and still have a line of people waiting to date him. gabrielle just wanted to smack herself. what the hell was she doing thinking about him? she had a boyfriend back home. a boyfriend whose been loving her for almost two years now.

“heuning kai. share your thoughts”. professor witman directed. and like always, but much more literal now, all eyes were on the attractive tall boy at the back of the lecture hall.

“the way I see it it’s kind of like a double edged sword”, he talked with his hands and with certainty, “if you’re a big fish in a small pond you’re among the privileged. you have life going for yourself. you do the best at everything, you’re at the top of everyone’s list, you cross every t and dot every I. life is good. but at the end of the day it’s just because you’re in a small pond. outside of that pond you’re just a normal fish like everyone else. however if you’re a small fish in a big pond you’re hidden. no one really notices you, everyone looks over your intelligence, talents , and wit. there’s going to be people miles ahead of you and people miles behind you. but in this big pond there are big fish that you can learn from and help you overall grow as a person. so even though you’re a small, you’re gradually improving yourself. you’ve made mistakes and you harness them to your advantage. so yeah”, he continues. “I’d rather be a small fish”. all eyes rested back on the professor who nods his head in agreement. quite impressed with his answer.

“well said heuning. well said”.

he began calling on others but gabrielle kept her mind fixated on kai. there was no way he was attractive and smart at once. she never heard of that before. attractive and rebellious yes. attractive with horrible grades yes. but she never came across someone like kai before. she was intrigued.

"cute right? I think I'm going to ask him out". gabrielle heard a voice beside her while she was walking out of class. the sudden voice startled her a little, she wasn't expecting to be interrupted by anyone especially when she was staring at the boy for what it felt like the umpteenth time. she quickly tried to act like she was looking for someone. "ask who out?". gabrielle asks. the girl nudges her, directing her attention to the infamous rebel at the end of the hallway, talking and joking around with some of his boys. "kai", she nods with certainty, "I think I'm going to ask him to go out with me this weekend or something. then again I probably shouldn't have told you that. you probably were planning on doing the same thing". gabrielle quickly shakes her head no. "I wasn't actually I was trying to figure out which way to go for my next class". the girl curled her lips into a dubious grin of disbelief. "yeah right. you're telling me you're not attracted to heuning kai at all?". gabrielle pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I never said that it's just I wasn't planning on asking him out or anything". the girl hummed. "yeah well don't tell anyone that I'm planning on doing that. I already know everyone else is going to try to rush to do it before I do". gabrielle fiddled with the corners of her notebook pages. "yeah no problem". and with that they parted ways. the girl went to meet him at the end of the hallway and gabrielle walked past them both, trying to process the fact that kai took a quick look in her eyes before he looked at the girl in front of him.

within a few weeks her newfound friend from her biology class observed her well. especially while they were walking in the quads. it seemed as if gabrielle couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. all the while he kept his attention elsewhere, either horsing around with his friends or talking to them.

“don’t tell me you’re falling for him too”. michelle insinuates.

“too?”,

“heuning kai has enough girls swooning over him that they all could probably wrap around this campus”.

“look at him. you don’t think it makes sense?”.

“well yeah it makes a whole lot of sense but you don’t want to get caught up with him. i heard he’s trouble“.

“what kind of trouble?”.

“trouble. why are you worried? i thought you had a boyfriend anyways”.

“I do but for some reason I just-- I can’t help who I’m attracted to”.

“well you need to. he’s no good”.

gabrielle exhales, listening. yet her eyes peered up at the boy anyways. what a mistake that was. she caught him doing the same thing. no smirk, no smile or anything. just a stare that captivated her enough to where the rest of the world blurred around her. she took heed to michelle’s advice for a couple of days, where she only focused on her school work and seeing what her boyfriend was up to back home. he was doing well and from the looks of his snapchat and instagram stories it seemed that he was having some fun of his own. he too was partying and hanging with friends also. it only made gabrielle think about the other possibilities. how was she so sure that he wasn’t with some other girl? or took interest in someone else? everything was so unclear while she was far away. she never took her boyfriend to be the cheating type. but the both of them were living in two separate worlds now. in his world he was still trapped in his high school lifestyle. but in hers, becoming appealing to heuning kai was all she could think about. and she hated it.

she drains the water out of her hair and fluffs it, throwing a bathrobe on to go to her room and study. she hoped bria wasn’t there because she really needed some alone time to collect her thoughts for a while. and let’s just say bria wasn’t the quietest person to study around. she twists the doorknob of the room and jumped back with shock, dropping her toiletries and clothes right in front of the door. it was heuning kai, relaxing on bria’s bed scrolling through his phone as if he belonged there. once his eyes laid on gabrielle’s he covers them with a hand and turns the opposite direction.

“heuning kai! what are you doing in here?”. “bria told me to meet her in here so she could give me the homework that’s due tomorrow. I’m not trying to be a pervert”. gabrielle squats to pick up her belongings, placing her clothes in her hamper and toiletries on her shelf. her heart was pounding through her ears almost but she tried her best to keep calm.

“well, she should’ve told me that. she didn’t tell you she had a roommate?”.

“well it’s common sense that she has a roommate but she made it seem as though you weren’t going to be here”. he says, speaking to the wall. gabrielle folds her arms.

“you know you can uncover your eyes. I’m not naked”. slowly but surely he reveals them, sliding his hand down his face until it was on his lap. their eyes met again, the same heart wrenching stare that they always gave each other at a distance. the one that made gabrielle just want to pass out right then and there. “why do you always do that?”. she mutters breaking the silence between them. “do what?”.

“stare at me. why do you always stare at me like that?”. she swallows nervously, afraid of the answer. “why do you always stare at me like that?”. he replies. she swallows again searching her mind for a response. how the hell does one tell someone that they stare at them because they want to be noticed without sounding too desperate? she didn’t want to sound that way. even though to an extent, she was.

she turns on her heels to place her phone on the charger, figuring maybe if she avoided his gaze she’d be able to think of something. kai licks his lips before he speaks again. “I like looking at pretty things”. by now her hands were practically shaking. she could’ve sworn he hated her by now. “what’s the matter with just telling someone that you think they’re pretty? you don’t think you’re going to look like a creep by just staring at them?”. kai shakes his head no. “whose to say I stare at everyone?”. she reaches into her drawer to grab some pajamas. she couldn’t believe she was even talking to him. “i thought you hated me”. she mutters. “why would I hate you?”. ,

“that night at diamond’s place. you walked off before I could even give you an answer”. kai thinks for a moment. “you made an assumption about me and brushed me off. and I’m not interested in courting girls who don’t want to be courted. so I left you alone”. “whose to say that I didn’t want to be courted?”. she blurted without even thinking. shit. she probably sounded desperate as hell right about now. “so tell me. what’s it going to be? because I’d love to take a pretty girl out on a date tomorrow night”. gabrielle played with her fingernails wanting to pinch herself. or run maybe. either way the question made her just want to curl into a ball and hide. “tell me who the pretty girl is and maybe she’ll provide an answer”. she shortly replies. kai laughs a little. “the pretty girl is you. go on a date with me”.

“mm - how do I know you’re not some serial killer or something?”. kai laughs again and god, how her heart fluttered at his laugh. “wouldn’t I have killed you already? we’ve been in the room alone for almost ten minutes now”. she nods and giggles soon after. “makes sense”.

“so yeah I have a car, maybe you can meet me at the side building tomorrow night? we don’t have to go anywhere far. downtown maybe”. gabrielle shrugs through the fact that she was practically dying inside. “that’s fine. does seven work?”. kai smiles a little. “seven is perfect”.

“damn kai how long you been waiting in here?”. bria marches in, more than late for the time she arranged with him. “since the time you gave me. by the time I turn this assignment in it’s going to be overdue”. bria playfully slaps him on the shoulder before sliding the homework sheet for him to copy out her folder. he laughs and rubs the spot in pain, “thank you mean ass”. she shoos her hand. “yeah whatever. get out my room I’m tired. did you say hi to my roommate on your way in?”. kai continues sliding his jean jacket over his arms before getting up to walk towards the door. he rolls his eyes. “yes I said hi. didn’t i say hi gabrielle?“. he smirks. she tried her best not to smile too hard. “yeah he did. get out like she said though. I’m tired too”. kai laughs and grabs the doorknob, “fine, I’m out”. bria was flipping him off but halfway between him closing the door he gave gabrielle a little smile that made her heart warm, almost as if to say “don’t forget about tomorrow night”.

which gabrielle hadn’t. hell, she straightened her hair hours prior just to prepare. she was happy that bria was out for almost the whole day, leaving her to get ready in peace. she wasn’t quite sure what to wear but she wanted to be comfortable. so instead of wearing a skirt or halter top she settled on a stylish oversized t shirt look with baggy pants and sneakers. and to be a little more girly, she grabbed a small purse. it was weird you know, just leaving her dorm and not having anyone to report to. not having to tell her mother or father that she was going out. not having to explain that she was going out with a boy and not them not having to meet him. it kind of felt nice and it was kind of freeing. she exhales deeply while walking to his car. he was parked where he said he was, in a car that was pretty gorgeous might she add. out of her dorm and now into the passenger seat of his car was an unbelievable feeling. that’s for sure. “you look pretty”. he compliments with a toothy smile that gabrielle couldn’t stop looking at. her cheeks flush deeply. “thank you. heuning”. he laughs at the name and shifts gears preparing to drive. “heuning”. he repeated. “just call me kai”.

“what if i like the sound of heuning?”. he laughs again. “no one does. but, if you do I wouldn’t mind you calling me that. it sounds cute coming from you”. she exhales for the umpteenth time, “please, with the flirting”. she smiles. he was truly killing her on the inside. “where are we going?”.

“shouldn’t that be a surprise? it will ruin the whole date if I told you”.

“how would it ruin the whole date? what if i want to prepare myself?”.

“you will. once we arrive”. she giggles and settles for his answer although she really wanted to know. cutting through her thoughts though was her boyfriend sending her multiple text messages at once. explaining to her how his day went and asking her how was hers. but while on a date he was the last thing she wanted to think about so she switched her phone to silent mode and shoved it back into her purse. “whose that? your boyfriend?”. kai jokes. she sat there with a frozen expression for a while until kai elbows her a little. “it’s just a joke relax”. he laughs. she tries her best to laugh through it when it really kind of scared her. she hadn’t planned on telling him a thing. especially since she really wasn’t obligated to. it wasn’t like heuning was her boyfriend anyways.

out of all places to take her an ice skating rink wasn’t on that checklist. she had no type of coordination, nevertheless skating in a rink full of pros. “have you ever been ice skating before?”. kai asks while slipping the money to the box office worker to pay for their tickets. he gives her a small thank you once she exchanged them. gabrielle shivers a bit, she forgot how cold the rink could be. maybe she shouldn’t have left her jacket in the car. “I have. i wouldn’t say I’m good though”. once their skates were all tied up kai slips his jean jacket off his arms and positions it behind her. “here put this on. you have to be warm when you skate don’t you?”. she shakes her head, “no it’s alright I got it. I think I’ll be fine”. he chuckles. “just put it on. I don’t want you getting a frostbite in here trying to be modest”. she finally gives in allowing him to slide her arms inside of it. it was much more oversized on her and warmer than any jacket she had in her closet. kai eyes the way the sleeves slip past the tips of her fingers, he thought it looked adorable on her.

stepping onto the ice was a brutal nightmare for her. she had no balance and hasn’t been ice skating in almost four years. before she could slip and fall to the ice in embarrassment kai catches her fall and lifts her back to her feet. “baby steps love. do you want to hold my hand maybe?”. her heart sank at the sound of his voice being so overwhelming when he was much closer to her. and as nervous as she was the last thing she wanted to do was fall. so she obliged. she clutched his hand and took glides with him, trying to get the hang of it but it was obvious that she was only surviving because of him. well kind of surviving. once a little boy zoomed past her it went downhill from there. she immediately lost balance and plopped right down on the ice on her butt. “this shit is embarrassing”. she shamefully admits and kai smiles. he squats down to her level and lifts her to her feet again. “it’s alright you just have to try harder. do you want to hold my hand again coldbutt?”. kai chuckles and holds his hand out for her to grab. she rolls her eyes pretending to be annoyed with him. “not if you’re going to call me that”.

“okay fine. I won’t. come here stop being a baby”.

she takes his hand again and he guides her around the circumference of the rink slowly. she had her hands in front of her just in case though, trying to brace any future falls. “see? just carefully shift your weight around. it’s not that bad”.

“for you it isn’t. I almost died a couple of times. and you laughed”.

“i wasn’t laughing at you I was laughing with you”.

“I wasn’t even laughing!”. she said aloud with a light chuckle at the end of her sentence making kai chuckle as well. “you and bria must have a grand time together with your matching attitudes”.

“oh please. she gets on my nerves sometimes. how do you even know bria anyway? aren’t you a freshman?”.

“sophomore. and I know everyone”. she scoffs. “oh yeah of course. you’re thee heuning kai“. kai hums. “why are you emphasizing my name like that?”. she shrugs. “that’s how everyone else emphasizes it”.

he swallows. “I’m not what everyone says I am”.

“I figured”.

“you figured?”. she points. “yeah look at your face. you have too much of a baby face to do anything rebellious”. kai chuckles, “what’s that saying? don’t judge a book by it’s cover?”.

“yeah. I’m just saying. why you single anyway? with all those girls after you”. kai shrugs, gripping her hand a little tighter sensing that she was drifting off and on the verge of falling again. “I don’t want them”. gabrielle makes a pft noise.

“what?”.

“you mean to tell me out of all the thousands of girls that want you, you’re taking interest in absolutely none of them?”. kai looks away for a second before looking back down at her. “I’m taking an interest in you aren’t I?”. gabrielle waddles for a second before standing straight up, trying to glide her feet again. “oh please. who said I even wanted you?”.

“why would you be on a date with someone you don’t want?”. she playfully rolls her eyes. “whatever heuning”. he glides in front of her, facing her and skating backwards, holding her hands that way. “how about we do it like this?”. he starts picking up his pace leaving her dragging with him. “wait! slow down a little”. he grins. “the only way you’re going to learn is if you take risks”. she panics. “I’m not playing you’re going to make me bust my ass on this ice”. he grins a little more and completely lets go of her hands skating circles around her making her dizzy and unstable. she tries her best to stay afloat but every time she looked up he was at another angle around her. she laughs. “stop playing! I’m going to fall“. he laughs along with her and continues his 360 circles until she put out a hand in attempt to push him out her way. he instead grabbed her wrists and leans forward so that she was dangling from his back. “come on hop up”. he coaxes, she breathed watching her breath become frost in the wintry air. "I'm too fat for that. please".

“oh shut up”. he hiked her legs up around his waist and dashed around the rink a couple more times, she had to admit it was fun riding on his back like this. more fun than she thought it would be. it was kind of like she was riding on a sleigh of some sort. she was nervous though, she hasn't really been carried by anyone before and it shocked her that heuning didn't care much about her weight. in a way she felt seen. she felt more appreciated. “heuning if we fall I’m beating your ass”. he chuckles. “why would I put you on my back if I knew there was a chance I’d drop you?”. he turns his head to the side to look over his shoulder at her features, never minding the fact that his lips were dangerously close to hers. she melted into the warmth of his eyes. they were pretty. so were his lips. so was his face. his voice was soothing and he was gentle with her. she turned her head the other direction to keep herself from becoming too flustered. “I’m hungry”. she babbles switching the subject of focus.

she begged for the bill but kai refuse to let her pay for her own food. had she known, she would've gotten something cheaper. but nevertheless the black haired boy was pooling out cash to pay for not only his own but her expensive meal as well. he clutches the tray and stuffs his wallet in his back pocket. he shoves one of his fries in his mouth heading towards the table. “are you mad at me coldbutt? I’m not letting you pay for your own food on a date. what kind of gentleman would I be”. he assures with his mouth full. she crosses her arms again pretending to be annoyed at the pet name. it was cute. she just wasn't going to admit that. “heuning i’m not afraid to fight you. you know that?”. he laughs when he sits down across from her. “so aggressive”. she grabs her slushie cup. “thank you though. you’re actually nicer than I thought you’d be”. he chews on another fry. “am I? thank you”. she carefully dips a nacho chip in it’s cheese. “so. heuning kai. if you’re not the person that people portray you to be, who are you?”. he pulls a couple of napkins out of the dispenser and wipes the excess cheese from the corner of her lips while she chewed. “that’s for gabrielle to find out isn’t it?”. he finished his sentence with a smile so bright it could've blinded her.

and yeah, i guess you could say bria was right. how dumb was gabrielle to come to college with a boyfriend. every time she had a bit of free time she was out, spending it with kai. she felt like she was in high school again, waiting for his texts and swooning over the selfies he often sent her. she thought about him in her passing time. thinking about how she gotten lucky enough to catch a guy like him. as much as she wanted to deny it she was a bit happier too. god, it felt like she was obsessing over some celebrity. she didn’t want to make love and relationships the center of her college life. she came here to study and do well after all. but she couldn’t help herself.

she scrawls down her biology notes in the cafè with michelle in between classes. she had another class in about an hour or two and she wanted to have some downtime before then. “wait--do you know how to solve this?”. she questions, feeling completely out of focus. michelle eyes her paper and slides it toward herself and nods. she plucks up a pencil so she could show her. the bell at the top of the door chimes and in walks a couple of guys laughing and goofing off with heuning kai following behind. gabrielle’s eyes were soon fixated on his and he notices of course, and gave her a soft smile. she was studying so he didn’t want to go over and bother her. michelle follows her line of sight and scoffs. “gabby are you listening?”. gabrielle nods. “I’m listening I only looked away for one second relax”. she turns her attention back to the paper for a while prior to looking up again, seeing a group of girls surround kai.

he was good looking, it was normal for that to happen. at least that’s what gabrielle was trying to convince herself. but even if she wasn’t fond of the attention he so often got, she had no place to say anything because she wasn’t kai’s girlfriend. he wasn’t required to claim her. technically, he was still on the market. and there was nothing she could do about that.

“I think it could be a good way for you to mingle”. bria spoke in front of the mirror. gabrielle was too lost in her thoughts to listen to her though and once she finally heard the last word of bria’s sentence she jumped. “huh?”. bria turned back to look at her oddly. “girl you okay? you been out of it”. gabrielle sits up and sits her textbook on her lap. “I’m fine. what were you saying?”. “I was inviting you to a party but you seem a little too out of it to come....you sure you alright?”.

“I’m fine I’m just tired. and you know I don’t do parties anyway I already told you that”. bria swings her bag over her shoulder. “well excuse me I was just trying to invite yo-”. cutting through her sentence was a knock at the door. she went to open it and there was kai, hitting her on the head with his homework binder. “bri I need the study guide answers”. she throws a hand on her hip. “when are you going to start doing your own homework? nobody got time to be feeding you sheet after sheet”. she starts going through her drawers and kai rolls his eyes while her back was turned. kai peered over at gabby who in turn was peering over at him. “here. you’re about to make me late”. she handed him the packet and he snatches it playfully giving her a soft thank you. she gives him another eye roll and grabs her phone off her bed. “I’ll be back gabby”. she scurries past kai and out the door leaving him standing there awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“so? how was your day?”. he spoke trying to break the silence. “heuning if you’re going to be into other girls while you’re ‘interested’ in me then we can just stop this”. he exhales, already knowing that was coming. “I’m not into them. I can’t help who approaches me. plus haven’t I told you that I don’t beat around the bush? if i was into someone else I’d just tell you”. he plops down at the edge of her bed. she pushes his thigh with her foot. “whatever”. she turns her body over as if she was preparing to sleep. “aw. you’re jealous?”. he teases. she kicks his thigh a little harder. “stop it heuning”. he rubs her ankles. “my pretty girl is jealous isn’t she?”. she grasps a pillow and hits him over the head with it. he chuckles and caged her body between his arms, hovering over her. she refused to look him in the eyes though. he was much too good looking this close. he twirled his finger around the coils of her hair. “gabrielle. look at me. you know you want to”. he could see the small smile twitch at the corner of her lips. “no I don’t. get out”. he cups her cheek with his hand. “you’re so pretty”. she stifled blushes from rising through her cheeks. she finally turns over with his face just inches from hers. he looked just how she imagined him to be. utterly breathtaking. “I’m sick of you”. she lies, making kai smile. he deposits a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“no you’re not. and if you are that sucks. I wanted to take you out”. she rubbed shapes into his sharp jawline with her thumbs. “hm. where did you want to take me?”. “and why would I tell you that? you’re sick of me remember?”. he teases pretending that he was going to get off of her but she only pulled him back down begging him to stay. “no wait I was just kidding! I was kidding stop”. he laughs at her pleas and takes a glimpse in her eyes. it was moments like this where he enjoyed the silence. the silence that allowed him to admire her in every way that he could. in ways that her boyfriend hadn’t. the butterflies inside her stomach were on a rampage. he leaned in not too far but just enough for her to meet him halfway. he didn’t want to just go for it if she wasn’t onboard. but she was and she meets him with hesitance, shadowing her lips over his. he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, making the connection of their lips painfully slow. but once they touched, magic was there. electricity sparked through her veins as his lips waltzed upon hers, dissociating her from the world and taking her to another reality. a reality where she was finally living the life she always wanted to live. not being known as the smart chubby girl and finally feeling normal. finally feeling like she deserved a love story of her dreams. whenever he broke away her world shattered. but she was always grateful for him distracting her from life's troubles for that moment.

"you ready to go? love?". he questions while still caressing her.

the burger joint was loud and rowdy but that was expected among college kids. the bar was full with drunk students watching the heated sports games and yelling obnoxiously without reason. gabrielle was grateful that was here at least with kai so it wouldn't bother her much. other than the reprehensible students she enjoyed the vibe of the place. it looked like something straight out of a 90's film with the pink neon glow lights and old license plates and polaroids hanging along the walls. "this place is nice huh?". gabrielle nods across the table from him, dipping her fry in the small cup of ketchup. "yeah it is. how do you find these places on campus?". kai shrugs, taking the tomato off his burger. "when you hang out with upperclassmen they show you the hotspots. I mean other than those drunk ass students over there this place is actually nice". gabrielle laughs. she remembers something. "so? when am I going to find out about you?". kai folds his arms on the table. "you think you still don't know me?".

"no i feel like I don't", she takes a minute to swallow her food, "I think you're too perfect. what's the catch? are you crazy or something?". kai laughs at her accusations. "no I'm not crazy. this is just me. I'm really a genuine guy and I want to start something with you. perhaps a relationship if I could". she hums even though it was kind of inaudible over the roaring music. "why me? that's what really raises a red flag in my head. I remember just a couple of weeks ago, this girl from our philosophy class told me that she was going to ask you out and she told me not to tell anyone. I guess what I'm trying to say is, why not her? why not the others". kai waits until his food was chewed and swallowed before he spoke. "what is with you and these others? I told you I don't want them. and the girl you're talking about is clara. she asks everyone out if you haven't noticed. I'm surprised she hasn't asked you out yet". gabrielle laughs a bit. "I'm sorry It's just I'm not the best looking and I know that. so in my mind me and you just don't make sense". he takes a sip of his milkshake. "gabrielle stop it. you're beautiful and I'm attracted to you. you make perfect sense". her cheeks began to flush but she ignored them of course. "well riddle me this because I'm curious. what do you want out of life heuning?". he gives a half smile and adjusts his seating. "I want love".

"love?".

"yes. why are you shocked?".

"most guys want you know, to be famous. to have lots of money. a big ass mansion somewhere. sexy super model ass wife. a pitbull or two".

"that sounds nice. but is it fulfilling though?".

"well...I'd think so".

"most guys want that because they want their ego to be stroked in every aspect of their life. there's highs and lows in life but they don't want to see the low of anything. no one wants to, really. but you have to. and when you put your ego first before everything, you become nothing. while a garage full of expensive cars and a mansion on a mountain side sounds nice, those things get old. I want something that never gets old. something that's timeless. like love". gabrielle's heart flutters and she got lost in the sea of his eyes again. "so above all else, love is what you aim for?". he nods. "i want to love someone the way I wish someone loved me". there was a swift moment of silence before he spoke again. "how about you? what do you want out of life?". she thoughtlessly shakes her head. "I don't even know how to respond to the question anymore after you said that. I'm very much questioning my morality now". he laughs. "what? did you want money and cars and a hot wife?". he jokes while dipping a fry into honey mustard. before gabrielle could answer she was interrupted by a drunk girl, approaching the table and grabbing the hem of kai's sweater before she sat beside him. "i m-missed yoooou kai", she pouts and leans in, giving him clumsy kisses along his neck. he annoyingly pushes her off. "jessica get off me. you're drunk and you need to go home". she pouts her lips again. "when are you coming back to me?". gabrielle was grateful for another guy reaching for the girl's wrists and helping her out the seat. he seemed to be her much sober friend. "come on we're leaving. leave them alone". she blew kai kisses before she staggered away.

gabrielle kept silent while taking a bite of her burger and wiping her face shortly after. kai only stared at her, sensing that she may have felt some type of way about the situation. "look, she's just an ex. I haven't been seeing her at all". she swallows. "I know, heuning. I'm not angry". that's what she said, but kai felt otherwise. he reaches his hand across the table just to intertwine his fingers with hers. "come on. let's ditch this place I got something to show you". she furrows a brow. "this late at night?". he took out his wallet and pooled out some cash to stamp on the table for their meals. "yeah. it's hilarious trust me".

with the utmost confusion gabrielle takes his lead and his word for it. the campus was rather dark at night with a light here and there but lights were often hard to come by. this is what made gabrielle the most scared while she was running through the woods in the darkened quads with kai, with him tugging on her wrist egging her on. "heuning slow down! I'm scared what if I fall?". she whispered with her heart racing and all she could hear was the leaves and twigs snapping beneath her and kai's moving feet. he chuckles. "you're not going to fall stop being a scaredy cat. we're almost there". she tried to ignore every ounce of fear she withheld until they were finally approaching a small light at the side of a building. she was still catching her breath while she was nearing what looked to be a small window low at the base of the building. kai was crouching down right beside it, waving her over and pushing his index finger to his lips to silence any further noise she made. "I'm about to fucking die". she gasps for air and kai shushes her again to point to the window.

she peaks her head in just a tad bit to see a security guard in the back of an empty library at his desk on the computer. gabrielle shrugs her shoulders. "you made me run through the fucking woods just to show me this?". kai laughs and points again. "no look. look at the computer screen". gabrielle takes another look and scrunches her eyes a bit. her heart dropped at what she saw and she immediately tucked her head into kai's chest in disgust. "ew! that's so fucking digusting". kai laughed at her reaction as quiet as he could. "this old guy watches all kinds of shit. felching porn is his favorite". she shivered at the thought. "I just don't see what's arousing about seeing someone suck semen through a straw out of someone else's ass". kai shrugs and peers through the window again. "to each their own I guess?". she fixed her lips to reply but felt something crawling along her leg and she panicked, she gripped kai's shirt. "heuning! something is on me something is fucking on me". he looked down at her body but it was hard to see any creepy crawlers due to the lack of lighting around. "calm down calm down, I don't really see anything". whatever bug it was had quickly made it's way into the palm of her hand and it felt abnormally large and furry. she freaked out, flailing her body around and in turn kicked the window, gaining the attention of the security guard who quickly closed the tab and got up hastily to go outside and chase after them. "oh shit! come on". kai shrieked pulling her upwards to her feet and tugging her through the woods once again. by now she was wiping her hand on the pants of her jeans running as fast as she could go wanting to just pass the hell out.

sweat trickled down her forehead and she struggled to breathe. after moments of running they were finally out in the open in the quads, which was a terrible mistake because their movement set the sprinklers off. she wanted to get agitated but she couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous kai looked trying to block the projectile shooting water from hitting him when his body was already drenched. "heuning stop you look like an idiot". his hand was still in hers when his feet slipped on the wet grass underneath an oak tree, causing their wet bodies to fall on top of one another. they breathlessly laughed at their efforts of trying to get up but eventually slipping due to how wet the grass and the bottom of their shoes actually were. normally gabrielle would get mad about wetting some of her favorite clothes and wetting her hair even. but for some reason she didn't care. kai sat up on his elbows once he finished laughing, taking a minute to admire her even in the messy, muddy condition that she was in. she removes her glasses trying find a dry part of her shirt to dry them with and he strings his hand through her tangled hair. "you look like a beautiful disaster". he commented with a small grin. she blushes trying not to smile. "yeah well, it's your fault anyway. had me watching an old guy beat his dick to felching porn". kai laughs and pulls her in so that her face was adjacent to his own. he brushed his thumb over the tiny water droplets on her cheeks and waited for her lips like he always had. she got lost again. swept into the sea of his eyes and the heat of the moment, clashing her lips onto his once again.

"girl look, there he goes again". her seatmates jeers in philosophy, watching kai enter the room like she always had. gabrielle continues doodling. "you say that shit everyday. give it a rest". she starts eagerly tapping gabrielle in excitement, "oh shit he's coming over here". by the time gabrielle looked up she saw kai standing in front of her, smiling, plopping his things into the seat right beside hers. it took everyone by shock, gabrielle knew it even though no one had quite said anything. but she knew they were surprised that he was sitting beside someone else today. a girl in particular. "why are you looking at me all weird?". he grins before sitting. "I wasn't expecting you to sit next to me". he dug around in his bag for his utensils and notebooks. he was wearing a black oversized zipper hoodie and a graphic band t shirt. looking just as attractive as he did any other day. "I can't sit next to you? were you saving this seat for your other lovers?". when he said that it made her mind resort to her boyfriend, whom she hasn't texted in a while. she quickly shook the thought out of her mind though and playfully punches kai's shoulder. "oh shut up. you're the only one with other lovers here". kai laughs, "see now you shut up". professor witman finally arrives and sits his things on the desk at the front of the room like he always had. he began speaking briefly about the reading from last night. kai rests his head on his hand. half paying attention to what the professor was saying and half sneaking glances at gabrielle, whose beauty he admired so much.

"girl are you and kai... a thing?". her seatmate whispers discreetly. gabrielle didn't quite know how to respond to that. she keeps a blank expression. "something like that, I guess you could say". she responds but still unsure if that was the right answer either. kai nudges her. "so? you and me tonight at my dorm? what you think?". gabrielle was still doodling along the edges of her pages. "I think it's time that I catch up on my chemistry notes once and for all. that's what I think".

"well after you catch up? take your time it's no rush. my roommate is going to be out for the night so. maybe we can watch movies?".

he raised his intonation like a kid convincing their mom to buy them candy at a candy store. it was adorable to say the least. needless to say, she was at his dorm like he asked that night with no further questions. it was kind of fun being out often to be honest. it gave her a break from her studies at least. entering kai's room though was something she never thought she'd be doing throughout her whole four years here. but here she was, plopping on his bed and gazing around at the posters and decals he had plastered on his side of the room. it was pretty neat to be honest. organized too. "you like it?". he questions while standing in front of the tv with the remote controller in his hand. he was switching through the selection of films. "yeah. to be an active student here your room is actually clean". kai chuckles with his eyes still fixated on the tv screen. "what are you trying to say? that I'm dirty?". she pushes her glasses up a little. "no but--the fact that you have time to keep it neat while doing everything you do. I expected it to be a little messier than this at least".

"you really think I'd invite a pretty girl in my room and leave it messy? you're crazy". gabrielle hums, "so what are we going to watch?". kai grins. "I should make you watch something sappy like the notebook". gabrielle scoffs. "please heuning. let's watch something funny". kai continues flipping until he finally settled on dumb and dumber. he sits the remote down and walks to the bed, grabbing the pizza boxes off his nightstand and sitting them between them. "you can eat as much as you want. I think I bought a little too much". she opens the box and laughs. "boy I'm not about to sit here and scarf down all this pizza. I have enough weight that I have to lose". kai chews into a slice. "where?". she deadpans him before gesturing towards her tummy. “right here. you don’t have to act like you don’t see it. it’s okay”.

“well, I don’t. you think every time I look at you I’m thinking about your weight?”.

“yeah. chubbier people have anxiety when it comes to our weight”.

“I think you look fine. And I’m never looking at you like that so don’t worry. eat all you want”.

“I’m going to throw this pizza at your face”.

kai chuckles at her response. “what? why? why are you so aggressive?”.

“you’re sweet. I don’t know how to respond other than being aggressive. I don’t want the moment to get too soft”.

“just kiss me”.

“heuning, that’s a soft response”.

“I know I just want a kiss from you”. he admits, she thought it was kind of cute the way he asked. “maybe when we’re finished eating”. kai held her to that though and made sure she cuddled with him as soon as they were finished just so he could get the promised kisses. his chest was comfy and warm, and she always felt safe in his grip.

she thought for a moment. “heuning?”.

“hm?”. he hummed with his eyes still fixed on the tv screen. she toys with his hoodie strings. “give me three confessions about yourself. go”. he chuckles but kindly obliged. “okay well 1. I hate math. 2. I have a horrible ‘losing my virginity story’ and 3. I think I’m actually a very lonely person”. gabrielle laughs and perched her head up just to look at him. “okay the first one I understand. but you’re lonely and your first time didn’t go good?”.

“yeah. I mean I have friends and everything but. I just feel like I’m not fully connected with them sometimes. feel like we’re all just there to entertain each other. and as for my first time, well. that shit was a nightmare”.

“I feel you. I know the feeling. It kind of feels like you’re just floating. but I guess that comes with growing up. you just have to find your people. don’t think that I’m not going to ask you to share your story though. I’m curious”.

kai laughs. “you’re right I guess I do have to find my people. so far, I think you’re my person”.

“do you mean that or are you just saying that to distract me from telling me the story?”.

“no I’m serious”.

“well I think you’re my person too heuning”.

kai scoffs, “pft. heuning”.

“hey you said I can call you that. and tell me the story please”. kai playfully groans. “no it’s too embarrassing”.

“it can’t be that bad”.

“how about this? if you tell me yours I’ll tell you mine?”. she reaches up to cup his cheek. “how am I going to tell you mine when I don’t have one?”. kai breathes and brushes his thumb over the back of her hand. “you’re precious gabrielle”. she hums while swimming in his eyes again. “why? because I’m a virgin?”.

“no. you’re just pure. I think it’s precious. don’t let anyone pressure you into doing it alright? It’s okay to wait”. gabrielle nods in a daze. “everyone always says that shit. wait until you’ve found the right person. but how would you even know whose the right person. what if you do it and then things don’t work out with them and then you find the right person later on in life”. kai thinks for a moment. “I think it’ll just happen without thought”. gabrielle chuckles. “don’t be cheesy”. he smiles. “I’m not being cheesy I’m just saying. you’re always being mean to me”.

“aw? are you getting sensitive?”. she playfully mocked like kai always did. “no I’m not I’m just saying”. she walks her fingers up his chest teasingly. “my heuning is sensitive for me isn’t he?”. Kai looked rather cute when he was blushing. a red hue splotched around his cheeks. “I’m not sensitive”. she perks her lips up to peck him on the cheeks which he greatly appreciated since he loved her kisses dearly. they made his heart flutter. “kiss me again”. he begged.

“and just where the hell have you been?”. Bria asked finally seeing gabrielle come into their room after her morning shower. “I’ve been here. you the one that’s been going out. that’s why you don’t see me”. Bria gives her the best ‘yeah right’ grin. she continues tidying up her side of the room. “well since you don’t be doing anything diamond is having people over at her suite again. same crowd. you should come through this time”. gabrielle looks in her wardrobe to find some clothes. she felt kind of weary. “honestly I’m beat. I need to nap or something before I do anything else. I don’t know if I can go”. wait. if it was the same crowd that meant kai was going to be there. she quickly changed her mind. “I’ll try to make it though”. Bria tosses one of her dresses in her hampers. “good. I’m glad you’re being more open to going out”. well she really wasn’t. just more open to going wherever kai was. when she arrived he was sitting on the couch in the living room conversing with a few of his friends. everyone was sporadic as usual, either in the kitchen drinking, in the living room, playing games somewhere, or upstairs. kai was more than happy to see her especially when she plopped down on the couch right beside him.

Bria eyed the way he smiled at her and she grinned. “oop don’t get yourself caught up kai! she has a boyfriend you know”. she blurts while making her way upstairs. gabrielle’s heart dropped and her eyes widened. she was lucky no one else in the room knew what was going on so they continued with their festivities. but kai’s smile disappeared. “what is she talking about?”. she tried to wave it off. “that’s just bria. you know she be saying anything”. the cold look that he gave her right after that line made her world stop. “gabrielle? what is she talking about?”. she swallows before responding. she knew she had to tell the truth or things would be much worse. “I kind of.. have a boyfriend heuning but -“.

“kind of have a boyfriend? what the hell does kind of have a boyfriend mean? how long have you had a boyfriend?”. kai looked sweet when he was smiling but god, when he’s angry he’s lethal. his sharp stare could split her in two. “we’ve been dating since high school”. he clenched his jaw. “so you’ve had a boyfriend this whole entire time? and you didn’t bother telling me? so what were you trying to play me or something?”. she quickly grew nervous. “no it isn’t like that I was going to break up with him I swear”. she tried to explain herself but he was already getting up, making his way out of the house with a slamming door.

good. she felt like complete shit. this is exactly what she needed. she didn't mean for it to all happen like this. she was really going to break up with him but it was hard doing that to someone you've been in a relationship with for years. the party for gabrielle was essentially ruined. she didn't even want to be there anymore. well, she didn't really want to be anywhere anymore. kai hadn't responded to her texts and calls for days on end. even when she apologized. and even when she lied and said she broke up with her boyfriend. nothing worked. seeing him in the quads was quite different now, he didn't make eye contact with her even when she tried to make it with him. instead he continued talking to his friends, continuing on whatever conversations he was having. while they were in the library michelle could sense that gabrielle was a little more off than usual. she finally laid her pencil down and addressed her. "alright gabby. what's the matter?". gabrielle continued writing with her attention on her paper. "nothing I'm fine".

"oh please. you've been more down than usual lately. what happened? what did kai do?".

"he didn't do anything. it's my fault".

"your fault? what did you do?".

"he found out I had a boyfriend".

"gabby? you didn't tell him that?".

"it's not that easy michelle. I wasn't expecting all of this shit to happen. hell, I wasn't even expecting kai to even ask me out".

"you've been hanging with kai for weeks now. you don't think you had time to tell him in between any of those times?".

she deadpans her. "how do you have time to tell someone that? in the middle of dates you think I'm just like hey I really like hanging with you and I'm starting to like you but I have a boyfriend".

"you could've said something. you have his number right? you could've made it easier on yourself and said it through a text message or something".

"but I was planning on breaking up with him. i swear I was".

"either way you should've told him".

gabrielle sighs. shit. she should've. michelle was right. but how would the timing ever be right to tell someone that? her mind was swarming with ideas for how she could resolve everything. she waited patiently after philosophy class. even though her heart was practically pounding through her eardrums she exhaled before she approached him down the hallway. for the first time he didn't smile when he saw her. he looked at her as if she was every other girl that approached her.

"what do you want gabrielle?".

"heuning. I'm sorry. that was wrong of me to just continue on with this without telling you. i wasn't trying to be two timing I just didn't know how I was going to do it. when I'm with you I don't think about him, i forget about him".

"I'm glad then. this time away is probably finally getting you to remember him again?". he spoke calmly while walking away, out of the doors of the building and to the parking lot where his car was. gabrielle followed.

"it's not like that. why the hell would I try to play you? after all you've confided in me, why would I play with your feelings like that?".

"why don't you ask yourself that question?". he pulled open his car door.

"you're acting stupid as shit right now. for real. you should basically know me by now. I would never intentionally do something like that to you".

"why would you go on a date with me if you knew you had a boyfriend? huh? when I first asked you, you knew full well you were with someone. all of this could've been avoided if you told me the truth".

"go on a date?". a familiar voice repeated behind her. she quickly turned her head to see her boyfriend, noah.

"noah what are you doing here?".

"I drove up here thinking that since it's been a while, I should take you out or spend some time with you. I didn't think you'd be up here seeing somebody else".

"noah it's not like that I swear to god. we have to talk".

"this is what you wanted to happen right gabrielle? you didn't want to break up with him and you didn't want to tell me so you got what was coming to you. go deal with that. I have problems of my own to deal with". and with that kai got in his car, pulling off and driving away before gabrielle could say anything else. she shamefully turned back to noah who looked so disappointed that it actually broke her heart.

"you promised me that even while you were away your love wouldn't stop for me. and then you go do this shit. I'm done gabrielle".

"my love didn't stop for you".

"you don't do that to people you claim you love. I hope you're enjoying it here". she stretched her arm to grab his wrists but he shrugged her off and walked back to his car, leaving her feeling absolutely stupid by herself. her face felt extremely hot on her way back to her dorm and she didn't want to look up because she already knew her eyes were rimming with tears.

"girl? you alright? what's wrong?". upon entry bria could already sense that someone was off. and since gabrielle was in the comfort of her room now she figured she might as well let her tears fall. "you remember that night you told kai that I had a boyfriend?". bria nods before a lightbulb went off in her head. she covers her mouth. "gabby. don't tell me he didn't know. ya'll was talking?".

"yes. we've been hanging out for a while now and we've been into each other. I didn't tell him about noah. so when you said that it pissed him off. he didn't talk to me for days and then finally today when I confronted him, noah decides to show up and overhear us. he broke up with me. and now kai wants nothing to do with me because he thinks I was two timing him".

out of guilt bria pulls her roommate in for a hug. "I swear I didn't know I'm sorry that's my bad. why didn't you tell me you and kai was talking? you know I joke around a lot. I wouldn't have said shit if he didn't know".

"I was scared to tell you because I knew you would tease me about it and to be honest I was just ashamed of the fact that you were right. I shouldn't have came to college with a boyfriend if I've never really been on the dating scene before. when kai asked me out I didn't think about any of that shit".

"girl. this is a mess and is one of the reasons why I don't deal with men and their attitudes. and if it makes you feel any better I could understand why you didn't think about noah when kai asked you out. that boy is fine as hell".

gabrielle playfully punched her in the arm with a small laugh. "shut up bria. I know and I feel bad. like why would I play kai? who in their right mind would play kai?".

bria curls her glossed lips into a small smirk. "aw? you're in love with kai? aren't you?".

gabrielle ignores her to keep from blushing. " this is not the time. I just got broken up with".

bria laughs and tugs on gabby's cheeks. "aw my gabby is in love! I'm so mad that you didn't tell me about this. how did this all even happen?".

"I'd tell you if I wasn't in shambles. he probably doesn't even want to talk to me anymore".

"girl bye. I don't date men anymore but trust me when I did, one thing I learned is that if they like you they'll never leave you alone. that boy is just a little mad now. he's not going to stay mad forever".

gabrielle moves a pillow to the other side of her bed. "yeah, well. until then I'm just going to go to sleep. I need a nap after this shit".

"aw. well I'm going to get some food later. you want me to bring you back anything?".

gabrielle shakes her head no while clutching a pillow, ready to drift off. she wasn't keeping track of how long she slept but she just wanted to sleep long enough to where she could forget about everything. or at least to where everything didn't hurt as much. when she woke up her forehead was clammy and her room was dark, not a sign of bria anywhere. she figured she stayed over at diamond's. she turns the lamp on beside her bed and was greeted by a food tray container sitting on her nightstand. she didn't know what was in it but she was grateful for bria. maybe she wasn't as obnoxious as gabrielle made her seem.

she couldn't eat though, not right now at least. she couldn't stop thinking about what happened earlier which kind of pissed her off since she thought sleep could lessen the blow. but her heart ached just as much as it did when she was awake. she thought about what bria said. she's right. if kai liked her then there was no way he could stay angry. with that being said gabrielle discarded every bit of fear she had and threw on more comfortable clothes and made her way to his dorm. it was late so she wasn't expecting him to answer but she hoped he would. she knocked softly and her heart pounded with each knock. she didn't know what he would do or even say if he saw her.

to her surprise there was light shuffling behind the door before it opened, revealing kai in an oversized grey hoodie and messy hair. his face was flushed and he looked as though he were crying too. but she didn't want to make any assumptions. he folded his arms, not expecting to see her at his door at all. "what? what do you want?".

"I know you've probably heard this one thousand times from me but heuning I'm sorry. honestly. what I did was shitty. I should've told you. I only didn't because like I said, when I'm with you I don't think about noah, or anyone else for that matter. when I first moved into this school me and noah made a promise that even while I was away we'd stay together. so when I got here i had no expectations of being interested in someone else. but you make me feel things I've never felt before and I didn't know how I was going to tell him that I fell in love with someone else. I'm in love with you. and I'll admit that". she croaked. she didn't want to cry. no-- she was going to try and stay strong. kai starts swiping her tears away with his thumbs.

"don't cry gabrielle. i wasn't doing any of that to hurt you but I was angry because I thought you were trying to hurt me", he presses a kiss into her forehead. "I'm in love with you too". he pulls her in for a warm hug. "cmon. I have a place where we can go to blow off all of this".

and when he said that gabrielle didn’t think he meant the empty recreation center where the swimming pool and gyms were. once he brought her in and shredded his shirt he dived in the deep end in the shorts he already had on, then swam to the shallow end where gabrielle was standing there poolside with her arms folded, grinning at him. he shook his wet hair and combed it back with his fingers. the pool room was warm and she felt comfort in the fact that it was just them two in there.

“heuning are we even supposed to be here?”.

“why would they leave the door open if we couldn’t? I come here all the time. mainly at night where I can be alone. just to clear my head sometimes. you should come in with me”.

“I’m wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. I’m not prepared to get in. plus I can’t even swim. don’t worry though I’ll just watch you from the pool chairs”.

“just wear my shirt. It’s not scary I promise. plus this water is warm”. gabrielle stood for a moment in thought. he could tell she was still trying to decide. “please? I’ll teach you”.

she swipes his shirt off the ground and playfully rolls her eyes. “fine heuning. fine. turn around”. he smiled at that and turned his body, waiting for her to give him the signal that she was done changing. once she had though he marveled over her features as soon as he turned back around. he hated the fact that she was self conscious about her body. especially when he loved every part of her, and every part of cellulite and series of stretch marks that came with it. his oversized shirt dangled just above her knees and she stood there shyly.

“why are you staring at me like that?”.

“because you’re beautiful”. he walked to the pool stairs and held his hand out for her to grab. she did so and felt her body shudder a little at the sudden contact with water. it was easy to get used to since it was fairly warm. they were already at four feet but she was already getting anxiety thinking about sinking underneath the water.

“we can stay here if you want. we don’t have to go to the deep end”. kai informed leaning back, letting himself float on top of the water. “how do you do that?”.

“what? float? just lay back and relax”.

gabrielle thought about it and positioned her body to do it but she quickly got frightened feeling her head almost sink into the water. kai clutched her body just in time. he was holding her bridal style just at the brim of the water.

“relax. don’t think about anything”.

“I’ll try not to think about how a cute boy is holding me right now”.

“and while I’m holding you I’ll try not think about how a cute girl is swimming in my shirt”.

“other than the fact that it’s clinging to my body right now it’s kind of comfy. I think I’ll keep it”.

“go ahead. there’s plenty more where that came from”.

“sounds like I need to go shopping in your closet?”.

“you’d probably wear my clothes better than me”. kai smiles. “look. you’re doing it and I’m barely touching you”. her eyes widened with excitement.

“wait I’m doing it? Oh my god I’m floating!”. he laughs. “calm down before you sink. you’re supposed to stay relaxed remember?”.

"I'm relaxed I'm just excited!". her voice bellowed off the pool room walls and soon she began to quickly submerge in the water with her frequent movements. she hadn't sunk that deep, maybe a couple of inches or two but water still filled her nose and lungs when she breathed it all in. kai panicked and lifted her out the water and threw her over his shoulder, he walked to sit her on the pool ledge so she could take a break from the water. she was coughing and her nose burned a shit ton, she mentally vowed to never do it again. kai pats her back and consoles her, wondering how everything even happened so fast. "you have to be careful baby I told you to relax". he consoles. yeah, she was still trying to get her eyes to focus on earthly things but her ears were open enough to hear the pet name. she got butterflies when she was finally feeling well enough to look down into his eyes.

"what?".

she shook her head, implying that it was nothing. "you called me baby".

"yeah. because you're my baby".

she blushed. "I am? without permission? you didn't even ask me".

he gives her a gentle smile, taking her hand and hugging her torso from the middle of her legs. "gabrielle? do you want to be my baby?".

"yes. yes I'd love that".

he smiles again, the smile that she loved. there wasn't a delay in the kiss that he gave her, it was swift and smooth and he held her close enough to where the world around her blurred and suddenly there was no noise. just the beating of their hearts together, hopelessly, cynically in love.

after swimming she didn't want to leave him. maybe she found herself a bit attached but she didn't care and neither did he.

"I know you're devising a plan to steal my hoodies so. I might as well donate some to you while you're here". gabrielle shuts the door behind her looking over at the vacant bed across from his. "where's your roommate?". kai digs around his closet. "he's probably at some party or spending the night somewhere". he turns and throws a hoodie at her chest and she catches it promptly. she turned to the mirror and pulled it over her head to see how it would fit. firstly, it smelled just like heuning so she was already starting to love it even if it fit a little big. she turned to the side and posed so she could see different angles of herself as she did with every new article of clothing she had. she didn't notice kai lowkey watching from the side in admiration and amusement. she was adorable in his clothes.

her heart dropped when he appeared behind her. she was too busy thinking about the things she could wear with the hoodie she completely forgot that she was even in his room. he smiles sweetly at her through the mirror. "you look so cute". it was hard for gabrielle to keep trying to hide her reddening cheeks so this time she embraced it. she embraced him. she embraced the fact that no matter what she thought she looked like, kai would always see her differently. she embraced the way he embraced her. "thank you heuning". she mutters, meeting his stare. it wasn't a creepy stare but rather wholesome, he saw paradise in her eyes even if it was through a reflective piece of glass. for the first time in his life he felt something. he felt a connection. and she felt his hands encompassing her waist and his lips sprinkling soft, heedful kisses along the expanse of her neck. gabrielle drew in a sharp breath, observing it all through the mirror ahead. she reaches her hand up and allowed it to entangle in the damp curly strands of his hair. her head tilts back a bit further, giving him the opportunity to kiss the places that he abandoned. her heart was pounding but she no longer cared. the butterflies in her stomach was wrecking her much harder. she tilted her head back enough for him to look into her eyes again before swooping in for a delicate kiss that rippled fireworks through their veins. they were stuck like that for a while, enveloping in each other's warmth while their lips moved en masse. it was was one foot after the other until they fell onto the bed, giving themselves to the ardent love that they were yearning for.

when gabrielle awoke the next morning she faintly remembered falling asleep on kai’s chest but it was hard to remember much of anything with the yelling that was ringing through her ears. her eyes flickered open to see that she wasn’t cuddled with Kai anymore but instead gripping a pillow, and kai was at the door arguing with some girl whom she couldn’t see.

“can you quiet down? you’re being too loud”. kai exclaimed, wanting to just shut the door on Jessica’s face.

“no! no I’m not lowering my fucking tone for what?! you need to hear me. shit everyone does. you’ve taken this too far! you need to tell her already!”.

at the sound of her words gabrielle leaned up a bit rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “tell me what? heuning? what’s going on what is she talking about?”.

when kai looked back at her a guilty expression was drawn across his face. he looked as if he wanted to say something, he just didn’t know how. “It’s nothing gabrielle”. Jessica pushes his room door open and storms past him, approaching the bed where gabrielle was. “Jessica stop”. kai warned. but she ignored him and gave gabrielle an angry gaze anyway.

“kai never liked you. he never wanted to date you or any of that shit. since you rejected him the first time he made a bet with his friends that he could get you to fall in love with him and then sleep with you. all this shit is a lie”.

gabrielle clutched the blankets with her stomach churning and hands growing clammy. the walls around her seemed as if they were closing in and there was a large lump in her throat. she darts her eyes over at kai who was still wearing the same guilty expression from earlier. “heuning? what the fuck is she talking about? is it true?”.

“gabrielle”.

“tell me the fucking truth heuning kai”.

he swallows, just wanting to disappear. “it was true at first but—“.

before he could continue she felt sick to her stomach. she was upset beyond measure and instead of staying and listening to another lie she throws on her shoes and grabs her clothes, making her way out of the residence hall and into the quads. such a bright warm day contrasted the way she was feeling. her body was on fire and she didn’t know if whether she wanted to cry or go completely numb. she knew she probably looked stupid staggering through the crowded quad full of students in the midst of their Saturday festivities. gabrielle couldn’t even make it fully out the quad until she felt lightheaded and fell to her knees, puking her feelings onto the blades of grass. she couldn’t believe him. she couldn’t believe he would do something like that to her.

she hadn’t known that he followed her, stopping at a distance once he saw her throwing up. “gabrielle none of that shit is true anymore. here let me help you”. he reached his hand out but she spoke quickly with her stomach heaving. “don’t you fucking touch me heuning kai”. she wipes her mouth and dizzily stands to her feet, giving him the deadliest stare he ever saw in his life. fear and guilt washed over him. “gabrielle you have to believe me”. she draws a hand back and gifts him a stinging slap across his face. one so loud that it drew the attention of everyone surrounding them. kai was stunned, shocked even. he held his cheek in pain.

“that was such an asshole move I should’ve known. I was told to stay away from you and that you’re nothing but trouble but I decided to give you a chance because I thought that’s all that you probably needed. a chance to show someone who you really are but now I fucking know who you are. a lying piece of shit who doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself”.

“gabrielle—“. he tries to grab her wrist but she swiftly pulls away. “I fucking gave myself to you. that’s something I vowed to do only when I felt like the timing was just right and you took advantage of that didn’t you? you got a kick out of knowing that I was a virgin freshman didn’t you? you’re such a bitch it isn’t even funny”.

“no you didn’t let me finish it was true at first I’ll admit that. I’ll admit I’m an asshole for even devising a plan like that but all of that changed once I met you gabrielle. I fucking forgot about the plan. I meant everything I’ve ever said to you. I want you and I’m so in love with you I can’t even put it into words. please. you have to believe me. I’m sorry”.

she shook her head in annoyance, unable to even withstand the sight of his face.

“fuck you, heuning kai”. she made those words her last before she turned on her heels to cut through the crowd, vowing to never speak to him ever again.

#heuning kai #heuning kai fluff #heuning kai angst #tomorrow x together #netflix fanfic

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

The Monster we Share

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,812

Warnings: PTSD for military action, sexual assault, and abuse. Mentions of abuse, panic attacks and dissociation, one very bitchy ex-wife, mentions of canon-typical violence, I think that’s it.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Frankie would tell you he was messed up, at which point you would retaliate with the fact that you were just as messed up as he was. Both diagnosed with PTSD, life isn’t easy, but it doesn’t always suck either.

Dating someone with PTSD was difficult.

Dating someone with PTSD when you also had PTSD was nothing short of a hellscape.

You had met Francisco Morales through a friend of a friend, and after a few drinks and some chatting, you two were close friends. Fast forward six months, and you were dating and living together in Frankie’s house. It would’ve been a miracle.

Would’ve, of course, being the key word here.

Soon into your relationship, you heard about Frankie’s PTSD involving his time in the military, specifically his non-military mission down in South America from a year ago. You had opened up then, spilling about abuse from an ex and the horror show that had been your life for almost three straight years. You’d never seen Frankie look vicious, but in that moment, he looked like a killer.

Now, a year into your relationship, and you were still navigating the rocky parts.

Namely the nightmares.

You woke in a cold sweat, broken from your nightmare by a harsh scream coming from your side. Scrambling upright, you tried to rouse Frankie, who was thrashing and screaming, his eyes still closed.

“Frankie!” You yelled, putting your hands on his shoulders and doing your best to wake your boyfriend. “Frankie please!”

Frankie shot upright, eyes wide open, and immediately took a swing in your direction. You jumped back, but he was faster. Thankfully, his fist didn’t hit your face, which was where he was aiming, but with all the jostling around, he did catch your shoulder.

You yelped, falling off the bed and immediately starting to cry, curling up as small as you could. Despite the obvious differences from your previous apartment and relationship, all you could see, all you could hear, was your ex.

“Babe?” Frankie’s raw voice echoed through your mind. “Babe?” He sounded more urgent, and you realized, with detached worry, that it was because you were hyperventilating. “Babe!”

He pulled you close, something which you didn’t have the energy to object. Carefully lining your back against his chest and sitting you in his lap, Frankie leaned against the wall and held you against him as your panic died down, as you realized you were safe. No one in this house would ever hurt you, not on purpose.

When you finally stopped breathing heavy, you collapsed into Frankie’s embrace, feeling utterly boneless and totally spent. It was rare you entered a dissociative state after panic attacks, but this time must’ve just been unlucky.

“Hey,” Frankie breathed, and you heard him very faintly, as if he were speaking through a pane of glass. Not much stuck when you dissociated, but despite that, Frankie was determined to talk to you. “Can I lift you onto the bed?” He never got a response, but just him having the heart to actually ask instead of just doing it was comforting. After a beat, he lifted you up and carefully placed you on the bed, laying beside you once he was done.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, running feather light fingers across your aching shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t respond. Your eyes were open, but you couldn’t really see. All you could do was lay there, waiting for your brain to turn back on again. Frankie stayed beside you the entire time, humming ABBA songs and trying to shake away the remnants of his own nightmare.

When you finally sparked back to awareness, it was your hearing that came back first. Able to anchor onto Frankie’s humming, you pulled yourself out of the dark, blinking and twitching your fingers as your sense of feeling returned. Then your sense of smell, then your touch, then you could taste blood on your tongue. Finally, your sight unclouded.

Frankie must’ve noticed you blinking more than once in a row and immediately reached over to the bedside table and held a glass of water. With one hand, he helped guide you to sitting, and then he pressed the glass into your hands. “Drink,” he said softly, and you did, glad for the water to wash the metal taste out of your mouth.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asked, taking the glass once it was empty. You nodded, not trusting your vocal chords to work right now.

“Just wanna get some sleep?” Frankie asked, and you nodded again.

Nothing makes you want sleep more than a two AM panic attack, so you ended up sleeping until noon, only really rolling out of bed because Frankie was missing and you wanted to check on him.

You found him on the couch, eating lunch and sitting on the phone, quietly arguing with someone.

“No!” He whisper yelled. “Absolutely not, I get custody! She’s my daughter too!”

You slowly walked into the kitchen, trying not to be spotted. There was still coffee in the pot for you, and you made yourself a cup while Frankie got even more mad.

“Marisa,” he hissed. “Don’t you fucking dare. I deserve to see her too, even if it’s just weekends!” He was quiet for a minute before responding. “You leave my partner out of this!” He yelled, practically at full volume, and you jumped, splashing coffee all down your front. Frankie turned, shocked. “I’m calling you back,” he said firmly. “This is not over.”

As soon as he hung up, Frankie rushed over to you and took the nearly empty mug from you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Better,” you said softly. “How’s Emmie?”

Frankie sighed, leaning his forehead against your shoulder. “Marisa still won’t let me have custody,” he said weakly. “I miss Emmie. I want to see her.”

You sighed, wrapping Frankie in a hug. “It’ll be okay Frankie,” you promised. “It’s been a year. I’m sure if we went to court, you could get partial custody if you proved you’d been clean for the whole year, which you have.”

Frankie began to shudder, and you sunk to the ground with him still in your arms. “You’ve never been in a legal battle with Marisa,” he said shakily. “She’s determined to never let Emmie see me again.”

You ground your teeth. “I hate that woman.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Frankie said.

Eventually, with cold coffee on your shirt and your stomach empty, you got up and urged Frankie to get dressed. “We’re going out to lunch,” you said insistently, kissing his knuckles. “Please?”

Frankie relented, and you two ended up driving to a small 24 hour diner that had the best pancakes pretty much ever. You’d only found it because of Benny, who had gotten a job as one of the waiters. You sat at your favorite table, the one in the corner where Frankie could see all the exits, and ordered pancakes.

Five minutes into your meal, you were interrupted.

“Daddy?”

Frankie’s eyes widened, looking at a small baby, barely two, standing near your table. She was a spitting image of Frankie, right down to the curve of her nose and the spark in her eyes. Her two thick pigtails bounced as she began to get excited. “Daddy!”

Frankie was frozen, face stiff. You bent down, smiling at Emmie. “Hiya Emmie. Where’s your mommy?”

Emmie shrugged, and you grew more worried. “Well, where were you sitting?”

“Over there,” Emmie said, pointing to a table.

“Okay,” you said, standing and holding out your hand. “Why don’t we sit back down over there. Your mommy is gonna be super worried when she doesn’t see you over there.”

Right as you finished, a scream echoed through the diner. “You bitch!” Marisa yelled, running over and yanking Emmie from your gentle grip. “How fucking dare you!”

You stepped back. “I’m so sorry Ma'am, she approached us. I was just trying to return her.”

Marisa’s eyes found Frankie and she seethed. “Good luck getting custody now,” she snapped loudly. “You just tried to kidnap Amelia!”

Emmie whined, tugging against her mother. “Daddy!” She yelled, pointing.

For you, everything else faded when you saw Frankie. He was sobbing, curled in a ball and shaking violently, hands gripping his hair and breathing uneven.

“Frankie!” You immediately rushed to his side, trying to dislodge his hands. “Frankie, honey, it’s me.”

“Fish?”

You looked up, seeing Benny standing there, wearing an apron and a horrified expression. “Benny!” You said gratefully. “Thank god, can you comfort Frankie? I’m gonna call the cops.”

“I already did it,” one of the other patrons said, holding up their phone. “And my girlfriend has been filming this whole thing.”

You nodded gratefully, turning your attention back to Frankie. “Hey babe, hey, that’s it,” you praised softly, hearing his breathing even out. “You’re with me, it’s safe. We’re here, in the diner, and Benny’s here. Hey, see, we’re all safe.”

Frankie nodded slowly, regaining himself. “Em?”

You pointed to Emmie, who was being held back by Marisa. “She’s still here. Still safe. See?”

Another slow nod, and then the cops were rushing in. You sat in Frankie’s lap, cradling his head and keeping him secure as they cops asked everyone what had happened. Upon reviewing the footage from the other patron, they took Marisa for questioning, at which she screeched and threw a fit and tried to assault the cop. Emmie, as soon as she was free, ran towards you. Benny scooped her up, holding her close.

“Are you this girl’s father?” The cop asked Benny.

“No,” Benny said. “I’m one of her godfathers. That’s her father, but he doesn’t have any custody.”

The cop sighed. “Write your name and number here, we’ll be in touch about the custody.”

Benny jotted down Frankie’s name and number and nodded to the cop as he left.

“Aight Fish, you ready to go home?” Benny asked, bouncing Emmie in his arms.

Frankie nodded, getting up with your help and trudging to the car.

Emmie watched as Benny sat in the back with her and you drove, holding Frankie’s hand and trying not to let yourself waver. “Is daddy borken?” She asked Benny.

Benny sighed. “No hon, he isn’t broken. His brain just doesn’t like him very much.”

“Oh. Otay.”

The rest of the ride home was near silent. Benny kept Emmie occupied as only he could do, mostly by very quietly teaching her to sing ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall. You didn’t object. It made Frankie smile when she lisps her way through the song, and you would do anything to see that smile again.

The other two boys were waiting for you at home, sitting on the porch. They jumped up when you two arrived back, both eager to see Emmie and make sure Frankie was okay.

“Hey,” Will said softly, pulling you aside as everyone trudges into the house. “Y’know how you told me to keep an ear on you-know-who?”

It’s like a ton of bricks hit your chest. “Yeah?”

Will smiled. “Gone. Completely. At least ten years behind bars for abuse, but the more they look into his past relationships, the more time he gets.”

The bricks suddenly crumbled, and you were crying, tears bubbling over.

“What the hell?” Frankie asked, coming back out and pulling you into a hug. “What’s going on?”

“He’s gone!” You said happily, beyond the tears. “Gone Frankie! He’s gone!”

Will filled in the details, and Frankie was grinning wildly when he finished. “This is amazing,” he said, still hugging you. “Amazing.”

You two headed back in, Frankie’s arm over your shoulder. None of the boys knew how bad your past relationship ran except Will, but they definitely knew something was wrong. So when you came in, teary but smiling, they immediately asked what was wrong.

“Their ex is gone for good,” Frankie said happily.

It was a cause for celebration, which was just what you did. Benny, along with Will and Emmie, went to go get a cake while you, Santi, and Frankie made dinner. Dinner wasn’t fancy, mostly just warming up whatever you could find and hoping Emmie would eat it.

“We’re home!” Benny said happily, opening the door and holding up a cake. “I got cake!”

“And I’ve got dinner for Emmie,” Will said from behind Benny.

While Emmie at chicken nuggets and honey mustard, you and the boys ate tacos and cake. It was a messy dinner, but it filled your bellies and made you happy.

“Movie?” Benny asked hopefully once you’d packed up the leftovers.

You sighed, putting the pan in the sink to be washed later. “Yeah, sure. Go turn the TV on.”

Benny eagerly hopped over to the couch and sat down, turning the TV on and flicking through channels. When he found a decent movie, he let the channel sit as he watched.

The movie was a violent one, something you didn’t want Emmie to watch. She yawned as you carried her to the guest bedroom, which wasn’t fit for a two year old, but it would have to do for now. You tucked some pillows under the sheets to protect her from rolling out of the bed and set a box at the side so she could get down in the morning. With a kiss goodnight, she was out like a light.

“We good in here boys?” You asked, poking your head back into the living room. “Oh for god's sake, change the channel.”

“Why?” Benny asked. “I like this movie!”

You pointed to Frankie, who was gripping the armrest of the couch. “You’re gonna set him off.”

Frankie nodded his thanks, eyes wide and body stiff. Benny changed the channel to some cute animated movie you’d seen the trailer for but never bothered to watch the movie.

You hummed, sitting practically on top of Frankie. He never panicked during movies with live fire and violence anymore, but they still made him jittery.

“You okay?” Frankie asked softly, running his hands over your skin.

“I should be asking you that,” you pointed out, kissing the hairless patch on Frankie’s face. “Tomorrow will be better. We’ll take Emmie shopping.”

Frankie smiled. “Lord, we really are two complete messes.”

You snuggled closer into Frankie’s arms. “Messes shmesses. We’re together. Our pasts are being amended. One day, we might even be able to look back at how we are now and laugh.”

“Yeah, when Emmie’s in college.”

Smiling, you reached up and grabbed Frankie’s face, squishing his cheeks. “Even if we aren’t, if we’re still waking up at two AM with nightmares and spending our days comforting each other through panic attacks, I’ll still love you.”

Frankie grinned. “I’ll love you more.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you argued playfully. “I’ll love you more.”

“Nah, I definitely love you more.”

You heard gagging from the other side of the couch and turned to see Benny making a face. “Get a room!”

Frankie stuck his tongue out at Benny while you laughed. Santi and Will both whistled when Frankie scooped you up and carried you to bed.

Because of your ex, you and Frankie had never slept together. Bed sharing was difficult in the first months, and then cuddling was the next hurdle. You were finally comfortable enough to snuggle in the bed together, and when you reached the bedroom, Frankie plopped you on the bed and immediately snuggled up. Clothes still on, he gently rested a hand on your waist, murmuring soft words in your ears.

“I don’t think this is what Benny meant when he said get a room,” you said happily as Frankie peppered kisses across your collarbones.

“To hell with what Benny meant,” Frankie said. “You aren’t ready.”

It almost made you cry. “Thank you Frankie,” you said, a slight wobble to your voice. “Thank you.”

“You adjust your life for me,” Frankie reminded you. “I can adjust my life for you.”

That night, as you lay down to sleep, you stared at the ceiling, listening to Frankie’s low and rhythmic breathing. He was right. You had mindlessly adjusted for him, noticing what set him off and silently making changes so he didn’t have panic attacks on the daily. But he had done the same for you, changing his words and his mannerisms so he could be the best person for you, the person you needed. It was so seamless, the way you two molded to each other.

“Love you,” you whispered softly into the air, swirling around because of the fan Frankie needed on. Frankie, dead asleep, didn’t respond, but you didn’t mind. Rolling closer to Frankie, tucking yourself up and under his arm, you breathing in his late night smell. “Thank you.”

You knew, in the morning, he’d either wake up at three in tears or slowly in the sun. But either way, he would wake up to you, ready for his worst, and no matter what, he would be there for yours when it struck. You both had each other, no matter how dark life got. The monster you shared would always connect you.

#Triple Frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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meloncubedradpops · 4 years

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Repo! The Corona Opera

For every rotation that Earth has completed around the sun since the dawn of humanity, humans have created art to cope with the realities surrounding our everyday life. We weave stories in songs, movies, plays, books, paintings, and so forth, that help digest the world around us and provide an entertaining escape from the cruelties we endure. Some stories take place in abstract universes or in the future, and we rely on what we know in our present reality to build upon these fantasy societies. My favorite movie, Repo! the Genetic Opera, certainly makes this list. We are currently experiencing perhaps the most surreal year of our collective lives, and with each passing day I argue that we find ourselves closer to the world crafted in Repo. I have seen this movie, at least 20 times. If you haven't watched Repo! the Genetic Opera or you haven't seen it in a while, I recommend giving it a view. The movie is unique in that it falls under three distinct genres: musical, horror, and sci-fi. And while the jury is out on whether our future society is going to go full on gothic aesthetic, I can say that the Repo! movie experience offers a glimpse into a dystopian fascist post-plague world wrapped in unapologetically hilarity with a heaping side of camp. It doesn't offer any spiritual cleansing that our souls collectively need, but it does show us what a new normal could look like if we really go off the rails.

As things stand, right now, so much of our daily lives and culture are impacted by the coronavirus. All of our institutions have been impacted, from school, to work, to family, to the way we interact with strangers, and especially our economy. We have all felt the effects in one way or another, and honestly? Most the impacts are of our own undoing, for better or for worse. I am going to write three pieces analyzing Repo! the Genetic Opera. First I will create the foundations that bridge our contemporary life and the world of Repo! Second I will explain how the Repo! universe operates under the definitions of fascism. And third I will weave together parts one and two into our contemporary world (particularly in the context of the United States) to highlight the dark path we heading towards. My viewpoints are of mine, and my own alone. Let's dive into part one.

Part I Repo! the Genetic Opera takes place in the year 2056. Humanity was on the brink of collapse as a result of a medical crisis that caused massive organ failure.

I never gave the premise much thought, at least not until recently. We aren't given much detail beyond the fact that entrepreneur Rottissimo "Rotti" Largo solved this crisis through his company GeneCo. GeneCo provides organ transplants that can be repaid through a payment plan. Witnessing the coronavirus unfold in real time and seeing its wrath, particularly on severe cases, honestly makes me wonder if the writers had some sort of "super plague" in mind when creating this universe. For the purpose of this analysis, I will assume that humanity suffered at least one infectious disease crisis. And just to reiterate covid-19 particularly, we really *don't* know what it's going to do to us long-term. Let the parallels begin.

The world in Repo! the Genetic Opera, operates as normally as the citizens possibly can, which appears to be quite limited. I have noted how dated some the technologies look.

For a world 30 years in the future, it lacks cell phones and easy access to internet. When we enter Shilo's world (aka her bedroom!) she watched Blind Mag sing on a busted up tiny ass TV and the program itself looks like an ad on Home Shopping Network.

The Graverobber is shown reading headlines on a newspaper. The news reporters shown in the ribbon cutting ceremony during the 1st Italian Post-Plague Renaissance have old school cameras with flashbulbs.

The most contemporary technology appears to be a Wish.com version of an Apple watch, and even that looks like a leftover prop from Spy Kids.

Obviously the people who made this movie intentionally inserted these anachronisms, but why? This is a science fiction movie after all. I speculate that they reverted back because the impact from humanity's crisis resulted in an overall professional "brain drain" from the sheer volume of professionals that dropped dead. In fact every scene depicting medical procedures looks dimly lit and lacking in sanitation. We will see this as we struggle to contain the coronavirus, at least in America. Healthcare workers have already died from this thing, and I am sure many prospective college students will have second thoughts about a career in healthcare. I mean hell, look at no other than GeneCo itself. That company employs workers called "Genterns" who are most definitely not in full PPE. I don't doubt their medical expertise, but they appear to be disposable (please see: that time Luigi killed one for NO REASON in "Mark it Up").

On that note, it really was quite incredible how China built the pop-up hospital in Wuhan in under 4 days, but it was also not the most safe or structurally sound building by far (it collapsed, people were hurt!). Maybe at this point, the people in Repo! don't have much of a choice. I am sure there were likely legit hospitals, but the fact that the Renaissance had gross surgery tents is a bit unsettling.

This is a world that is completely built upon the social more of valuing your health above all else. There had to be a turning point in the GeneCo business model where they really played on up-selling organs for the benefit of "genetic perfection". "I needed a kidney transplant desperately. GeneCo showed this single mom sympathy. This makeover came for a small added fee. Now I look smashing on live TV!" Imagine signing the documents for your power of attorney while actively going into renal failure, when your doctor chimes in with an up-sell for breast implants. When all is said an done, your body is now not only functioning again, but you're hot! Even in a post-plague dystopia we are still holding value to having a nice rack. What's not to love about GeneCo? Obviously we know right away that GeneCo has a dirty side. Rotti Largo personally lobbied to make organ repossessions legal, and he does not hesitate to recollect his property. The concept itself is, of course, wild. In America, our healthcare system is incredibly broken and expensive. You would wonder how it could get worse without us backpedaling many steps on the industrialization timeline. And in a lot of ways, I could see a company like GeneCo thrive here. We already hate the poor, and we have political think tanks that salivate over the idea of cutting social programs that keep people alive. Our president has wanted to repeal the Affordable Care Act while many people are unemployed during a pandemic. In Repo! we hear about those who don't pay, but obviously there are plenty of people who do. Those who can will happily pay, either for vanity reasons or to stay alive.

And while society cites Rotti as being a "hero" for humanity, we see more and more evidence that the crisis is both not under control and life is cheap.

His son murders multiple people, in front of others, with seemingly no repercussions. In the scene where Shilo meets the Graverobber for the first time, adjacent to the graveyard and tombs owned by wealthy families who could afford grave markers, lies a poorly constructed wall hiding thousands of corpses piled on top of one another. We even get a glimpse of a truckload pouring more onto the pile. I would not be surprised if there is a disinformation campaign there keeping the public in the dark (although you'd think the smell would be unbearable at this point).

There are multiple indications that propaganda works in society (still), and no one is getting the full picture of how much of a raw deal the people in Repo! have. We see poster after poster about GeneCo, in the literal absence of other corporations.

And a lot of them bear resemblance to 20th century Russian propaganda. It would be a real shame if the goals outlined The Foundations of Geopolitics: The Geopolitical Future of Russia were actually realized. Imagine going to visit your mother's grave and hearing commercials for hardcore analgesics play through the cemetery. Also, there's a police presence too. Apparently the police are called Genecops and have authority to execute any assumed graverobbers on site.

Imagine the hellscape it would be to live in a world where your loved ones may have died from a terrible pandemic, and you face a non-zero chance of an over zealous cop murdering you thereafter, and because their qualified immunity bypasses the judicial system entirely...oh wait. Anyways let's circle back to the Graverobber character.

Graverobber's role in Repo! appears to be minor on the surface. Rotti's daughter, Amber Sweet, appears to almost despise her relationship with him. And that relationship involves him supplying Amber with what he describes as the "21st Century cure". This cure you ask? A super effective painkiller with the clinical use to accompany GeneCo surgeries. This drug is called Zydrate, and it has a street version that he acquires and sells, with clients including Amber Sweet.

Graverobber makes his living sucking the glowy blue brain corpse goo and injecting them into people on the streets. Yum!

Not everyone who needs an organ transplant can pay for it all upfront. Luckily for them, GeneCo provides payment plan options! The caveat to this is if you fail to make those payments, legally GeneCo can come and repossess your newly acquired organs. If you find yourself past due, you will soon see the last face before your doom, the Repo Man. He will harvest GeneCo's property, and it won't matter where you are or what you are doing. There is no anesthetic, and you will likely die! This was all made legal through Rotti's lobbying efforts.

Society, as it's set up today, allows for property repossessions. This can be as straightforward as a repossession of your vehicle to as heartbreaking as a foreclosure on your home. At the end of the day, the impacts of that are difficult and life changing. Currently millions of people in America are out of work, and the threat of losing everything is at stake for many. We could lose our homes, our vehicles, and our sense of purpose. And while many government bodies have created temporary moratoriums, they have not provided any substantial financial relief to keep the proverbial repo man at bay. What went wrong in this dystopia to normalize the concept of death due to nonpayment? Fascism! Ah yes, the dreaded f-word. In my next essay, I will outline the 14 characteristics of fascism and how it relates to the universe in Repo! After I will relate that to our modern world so that we can try and stop this from becoming our reality.

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isisparker · 4 years

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Candid

[The Rookie - Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen - Chenford fanfic]

word count: 3k a/n: first attempt at a Tucy/Chenford fanfic, so I apologize for mistakes and whatnot in advance! this was inspired by the latest episode as I wonder just how many humiliating pictures has Tim taken of Lucy and whether those are the only ones? also this takes place post- 2x12 “Now and Then” and, well, a bit canon divergence as have you...

Therein -- according to Jackson -- a folder of incriminating pictures of Lucy on Tim Bradford’s phone. Confirmed by Lopez that such files of Bradford’s rookies exist, Lucy reasoned it is all Jackson’s fault that she’s sitting in a bar bathroom trying to find said folder of herself. A folder on her T.O’s phone that she... borrowed...

Or what happens when Lucy steals Tim’s phone, Jackson becomes a frustrated accomplice [and a good soundboard-slash-wingman], and Tim does what does best: taking unwitting pictures of Lucy Chen.

~~~

It was all Jackson’s fault.

No, really it was!

It was all Jackson’s fault that Lucy Chen had locked herself in a bar bathroom, hunting down an elusive folder that legend says majority of young, bright eyed cops lost countless sleep over: Officer Tim Bradford’s Incriminating Photos of His Rookies.

Hell, she would have laughed off the very mention of such a thing had fellow officer-slash-roommate Jackson West not open his stupid mouth and verified its existence.

(Okay, to be fair, it all started because of a 488 and Lucy chasing the damn kid through a park where Surprise! a pie eating competition was being held and, well… after a spectacular header into the contestant table resulted in an arrest despite finding herself covered in meringue and whip cream, when her training officer held his phone up, gave his signature shit-eating smirk before saying “Geez, Chen, I’ll run out of space soon…”, which Jackson later speculated that Bradford probably kept a folder filled with Lucy-inspired exploits, and followed shortly by having Jackson’s own T.O., Angela Lopez, confirming that “Oh yeah! Bradford has folders of all his trainees’... uh… mishaps? Incidents?” “Humiliating moments?” “Your words, Boot, not mine.”; so you can imagine why her paranoia placed the entirety of this adventure all on her friend!)

Because let’s be real: no amount of sanity on her end would have resulted in talking a few unsuspecting colleagues into a night out at a relatively unknown (well, to everyone but Lucy, who had the foresight to check the area out) bar and pool hall, proceeding to needle her fellow rookies to distract her T.O., and then coming into possession of Tim’s phone (that she had discreetly, uh, borrowed from his person) in an attempt to break into-- no, wait, unlock it and save her future self from potential blackmail.

“Just say ‘deleting embarrassing photos,’ Luce.”

“Shut up, Jackson.”

“Hey! It wasn’t my idea for you to steal--”

“Borrow! I’m not keeping it. Just borrowing it…”

“Right…” She didn’t need to glance up at her friend to notice the disbelief oozing out of him. “It wasn’t my idea for you to ‘borrow’,” damn Jackson, she didn’t need to look up to feel his quotation marks, “his phone, just so you can delete the pictures he has of you. So why do I have to be your accomplice--”

“It’s not a crime to borrow a friend’s phone.”

“It is if he’s your T.O. and, oh yeah, he doesn’t know that you lifted it from him!”

Lucy waved her hand, “Schematics…” she murmured, trying to limit her attempts at his passcode lest she end up locking the phone for hours. She could feel Jackson’s eyes roll as she added, “And you’re not my accomplice. You’re my lookout. I just… need…” The distinct sound of a phone being unlocked briefly pierced the gender neutral bathroom that the pair of rookies were camped in, causing the young woman to do a soft congratulatory fist pump. “Aha! Got it!”

Another cellphone ping crisped the air, causing Jackson to make an inquired hum before emitting a small sound of distress.

Which meant that Lucy’s window of opportunity was closing faster than she anticipated.

“Luce,” Jackson started, “Nolan can’t keep Bradford preoccupied for long!”

Lucy’s eyes were focused on the cell screen, her fingers scrolling and tapping to find the folder that started this utterly insane journey. “Tim loves knocking Nolan down a peg or two. As long as Nolan keeps up the charade of losing, we have time!”

“But that was before Lopez and Harper cajoled them into involving money, Luce! Plus Harper is Nolan’s T.O! She’ll be able to sniff out his act faster than the other two!”

“Well then Nolan would be shitty at undercover work if he’s unable to keep his part up!” Lucy growled, “Just like you’re doing a horrible job at being my back-up! You’re supposed to keep quiet, communicate with Nolan, and let me find what I need to-- Oh my God, yes! I found it!” She felt Jackson jump immediately to her side, his curiosity gleaming out as strongly as her own.

Figuring on a longshot when she had seen a folder simply titled The Boots, inside of it produced multiple other folders labeled with various numbers that an ordinary citizen wouldn’t comprehend. But Lucy knew a badge ID when she saw one and quickly located her own as she scrolled through the column of numbers. Before she clicked on it to see just how many photos she’ll have to terminate, Lucy prayed that there wasn’t a lot of memory she’d have to delete, at least enough for Bradford to notice. Oh she figured on leaving a few (c’mon, her mama didn’t raise an idiot), but for her own dignity she hoped Tim didn’t gleefully capture that many embarrassing moments!

“Okay,” she breathed, adding a bit of levity, “let’s see exactly how sadistic my T.O. is…”

Lucy clicked on the folder… and blinked at it in shock.

One photo.

“What the--?” she gasped, staring at the single picture in her folder.

Jackson muttered a few curse words as he too stared at the folder’s content, knowing that they were in fact screwed.

The anxiety that had built up in Lucy’s stomach quickly twisted into dread as she took in the lone picture; an image of her uniformed T.O., one Tim Bradford, scowling and holding up a piece of paper that seemingly foretold what lied ahead beyond that bathroom door: BUSTED.

“Goddamn it!” Lucy groaned, slumping backwards until her head hit the stall with a defeated thud.

Jackson’s phone pinged a text message and Lucy didn’t need to glance over to know who sent it nor what it said. Her friend’s pale reaction spoke volumes.

“How screwed are we?” she asked, closing her eyes and truly not looking forward to all the burpees that man out there will be barking at her for the foreseeable future.

“We?” Jackson gasped, astonished, “Oh, Luce, there is no ‘we’ involved in this half-baked plan you concocted--”

“Hey--” she sat up, eyes blazing to defend herself only to shut her mouth over his continued tirade.

“--because of your desperate need to prove that your superior officer is either that big of an asshole to collect incriminating photos like trading cards…”

Yeah, if her eyes were lit to defend herself, they were definitely ablaze at the mere mention of her partner. “Tim is not--”she started to growl, only to still be bulldozed by her friend.

“--or, depending on how many photos he has of you, has some sort of underlying feelings beyond the professional that you may or may not be feeling yourself!”

“I… uh… What?!” Lucy felt sufficiently gobsmacked by Jackson’s words. She quickly picked up her jaw, lest she keep it open in surprise. Where the hell did that come from?! She even managed to utter her bafflement as much.

Jackson crossed his arms and leveled her with a look that was a mix between bemusement and pity. “Three words: Sad, Drunk Lucy.”

Lucy blinked up at him, genuinely confused save for the gnawing piece of her gut that says there is truth to his words. “Jackson, I…”

Jackson’s phone thrilled, interrupting whatever excuse seemed to want to slip from Lucy’s mouth. She had never been more grateful for it, especially as he reacted to whomever was on the other end, giving tense responses to them until he hung up. He regarded Lucy, more resigned than anything. “That was Lopez. She talked Tim into giving you a five minute reprieve before he barged in here demanding his phone back. She suggests we take it.”

“We?” Lucy echoed his reply, this time with mirth versus his own frustration. She looked down at Tim’s phone, fiddling with it nervously. “She called to save your ass, West. I think you should take it and leave me to my punishment.” Lucy heard Jackson’s steps reluctantly head towards the door. Her mind was already shuffling through various thoughts before she realized that the heavy sigh she heard wasn’t her own but from Jackson. She looked up, surprised to see him with his back resolutely against the door. He had his head tilt, curious, as he said, “You didn’t know.”

“Know what, Jackson?”

With a small smile, “That Tim Bradford and his -- quote -- ‘frustrating smirk that I don’t know whether to kiss or smack off his handsome face’ was the cause of Sad, Drunk Lucy.”

Lucy felt herself flush and knew immediately that the crush she had for her T.O., the man that had not too long ago literally pulled her up and out from a grave into light, wasn’t hidden quite as much as she had thought. Oh her mother would have a field day that she was susceptible to the Savior Complex!

She nodded her head sadly, “I was… slightly… aware of my crush on Bradford.” Lucy gave her friend a determined look, “It’s just a small thing, Jackson. Unrequited and easily managed.”

When Jackson snorted at her last few words, she narrowed her gaze and implored for an explanation. The man shook his own head, refusing to utter another word. Lucy stood up, about to demand for him to explain himself when Jackson gripped the door knob and said, “I’m going to do you a favor, Luce, and buy you some more time.”

Confused, “What? More time? For what?”

“To look for your folder.”

Lucy scoffed, holding up Tim’s phone. “But there is no folder, remember? This was yet another one of his stupid Tim Bradford tests! One that I failed, by the way!”

Jackson gave her a knowing look, “Lopez said that she saw it. But that it’s not what you think it is.” He opened the door slightly and proceeded to set the lock before he turned and added, “I can probably hold him back for another five minutes, Luce, but then I’m afraid he’ll end up kicking the door down.” He winked, “Good luck,” before disappearing from her sight.

What? The folder wasn’t what she thought it was? What was she to make of that?!

Lucy scrolled through the folders in The Boots, nodding as she concluded that she wasn’t mistaking them for other than badge numbers-- Wait a sec… She paused at a sequence that screamed out in haunting familiarity.

12919

Her hand unconsciously ghosted over a spot on the lower left side of her body. No. No... He wouldn’t. There is no way he’d use those numbers! No way that he’d use that particular date as a label to a folder of her most humiliating moments on the job! Tim wouldn’t be so cruel!

Lucy’s hands shook as she opened the folder, only to find to her dismay that it was indeed filled with pictures of her! She perused through, noting all the various moments of hilarity at her expense, and trying her best to remain calm and refrain from wanting to kick her T.O’s ass! Oh, she really didn’t need an extra five minutes, especially with her sudden urge to punch Tim’s face, no matter how infuriatingly handsome he is!

She intended to close the folder, the desire to verbally assault Bradford so strong, when her eyes caught a few abnormalities to her supposed gallery of shame. One was the photo they took at the hospital with the young boy that those two Instagramers had harangued. Another photo was of the two of them when Tim had gotten his commendation. There were a few more group pics scattered throughout and with the common trait being of the two of them sitting or standing next to each other.

And then there were the pictures that Lucy wasn’t aware had been taken of her! Some of them were taken in their shop, angled almost as if he had taken his phone from his pocket and took it with ninja-like discretion. Lucy noted that she was mostly gazing out the window in those pictures. A few had the light of the California sun emit a soft glow to her profile. Another batch of those had the shadows of the night sky cast around but never swallowing her. There was one that was taken while she was studying up on codes in the break room. A hard look of concentration with a hint of quirkiness when she had a pencil dangling from her lips. One picture had her talking with Nolan before roll call, her eyes sparkled as she was caught mid-laugh. Another picture was taken while they had answered a call near an animal shelter. Lucy couldn’t believe her luck when she talked Tim into letting her take a minute to look in on the canines! She must have been so enamored with the little creatures that her partner snuck a photo of her joy while she was cooing at one of the fur babies. On and on the different shots of her ranged; beyond the laughable moments to more delicate and lovely candids. Photos that exposed her in such a soft and unflinchingly human light that Lucy couldn’t help but feel her eyes water as she looked through them.

Lucy would have gotten lost staring at all these pictures had she not stumbled on a picture of herself in the hospital bed after one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. Or at least she assumed it was of her after the event, for the picture itself wasn’t a full body profile but merely a prominent shot of her hospital admittance band wrapped around her wrist. She held her gaze on the band, wondering why, of all things, it compelled Tim to focus on that particular shot.

Her eyes bounced back to the date featured on her folder and Tim’s voice weaved through her stream of thoughts. She remembered them to the point it became a mantra she buried within her heart.

“It wasn’t your day of death, Officer Chen. It was the first day of the rest of your life…”

Lucy mused on that, wondering… maybe even hoping? But hoping for what? Would she really, honestly, want what a piece of her heart is denying for fear of losing so much? She could stop. Just chalk it up to her T.O. having a secretive photography skill. Nothing more to ponder on. She really could stop despite the gallery of evidence literally in the palm of her hand. But Lucy couldn’t help but speculate if Tim himself saw that date not as a reminder of trauma but of feelings that was, maybe? possibly? born from that incident.

And boy did that thought take her breath away!

A little giddy at the idea that her feelings weren’t unrequited afterall, Lucy nearly missed the two harsh raps against the bathroom door. She, however, didn’t miss the bark of said man of current adoration as he called for her attention.

“I won’t hesitate to kick this door down, Boot, if you don’t get your ass out here! Now, Chen!”

Oh shit, she thought as she knew that he truly would cause such damage. She exited out of the photo app and swiftly shut his phone down. She quickened a glance at herself in the mirror, realized that she was presentable enough, and scrambled towards the door just as she heard him growl a countdown.

“--4, 3, 2…”

She swung the door open, looking up at him with her most dazzling smile. With the knowledge that she had gained, she wasn’t at all intimidated by his imposing scowl as he towered over her smaller frame. “Hi!” she squeaked, and wincing a bit at that sound. Okay so maybe he still instilled a bit of fear despite the fact that she knew how truly soft he was towards her.

Tim had one hand braced against the door frame while his other was on his hip as he leaned a little closer to her. His eyes darted up and down her person and she knew it was his way of making sure that she was physically fine. When he seemed okay with his assessment, his eyes pierced into her own and, well, Lucy tried her best to not look as guilty as she felt.

But there was a reason Tim was amazing at his job. “Chen…” he started, narrowing his eyes and holding his hand up, palm out. “My phone.”

Lucy was torn between acting petulant and feigning ignorance or just outright owning up to her misdeed. As she found herself in a staring contest with her seasoned colleague, Lucy realized that she had a better chance at coming out unscathed if she were honest versus dishonesty, no matter how playful an act she could put on. With a cheeky grin that she knew he found both infuriating and amusing, she pulled his phone from her back pocket and handed it over, and said, “Here you go… sir.” She hadn’t meant to add the address, nor meant to make it sound as sultry as she did if she had to go by his eyes briefly widening before becoming predatory.

He pocketed his phone but kept his gaze solely on her. The calculating look he had made her squirm and wow, she was in trouble, wasn’t she?

And because he knew her so well, Tim allowed a small smirk to slowly grace his face as he said, “You’re trouble.”

Lucy blinked, thinking she misheard him. She was about to voice as such before Tim shook his head, leaned in closer and clarified, “You heard me just fine, Officer Chen.”

She will utterly deny it to Jackson, goddamn it, that a small shiver fell through her when Tim used his authoritative voice on her. Just as she will deny the effect he had as he pulled back and grinned openly at her when he added, “Hope those photos were worth it. I know they are.”

Lucy gaped at his bravado, her mind racing as to how to properly respond to Tim openly candid with her. Before she could form a cohesive response, a flash nearly blinded… Oh no, he did not!

“Yep,” Tim smiled at his phone, already saving it into its designated Lucy folder, “That’s going into the Favorites.” He turned to head back towards the pool hall, but not before glancing back at his partner with a genuinely soft smile as he asked, “You coming, Lucy?”

Oh yeah, Lucy grinned, this was all Jackson’s fault, and she couldn’t be happier for it!

~fin~

#the rookie #chenford #tucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #my fanfic #tim x lucy #chen x bradford #otp: you know me so well #lookie i was finally inspired to fanfic!#i hope i did right by the fandom!

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xoruffitup · 4 years

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Flip Ficlets (Part III?)

Since the first time I saw BlacKkKlansman, I wondered what was going on in Flip’s head when Ron asks why he’s not taking the investigation more personally, and Flip answers “Rookie, that’s my fuckin’ business.” My brain supplied...

What if Flip had a girlfriend of color during the investigation?

Pt ii: This wouldn’t leave me alone

All it took was some nice Flip gifsets on my dash, and suddenly I wrote more of this. Here we’ve got the flashback scene to when Sarah first found out Flip was a cop, Flip getting dragged (somewhat) against his will to a disco, and Sarah’s feelings a few years in on being with a white guy.

Not beta’d or anything, just had fun.

Flip has no idea how he got talked into this.

“Hell no. No way,” had been his gruff reply when Sarah leaned away from the telephone to excitedly call, “Patrice and Ron are going to a disco tonight!”

It was a Friday evening after a long day and an even longer week. Apparently Ron had other ways he liked to recover, but Flip’s ideal Friday night usually involved reclining in a horizontal position. Definitely not dancing.

“You’re such a drag,” Sarah drawled, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I’m going. You can either come along, or accept that I’ll spend all night dancing with other guys. And you never know, some of them might be hotter than you.”

Well, that was how right there.

Flip had just stared for a long second, then blinked slowly when Sarah twirled out of the bedroom in a spangly dress that flashed plenty of shoulders and thighs. His mouth suddenly very dry around the urge to march her straight back into the bedroom, he managed, “Sarah, I have nothing to wear.”

She’d just grinned, the glitter on her dark eyelids shimmering phosphorescent.

“Just wear my favorite shirt. The red one. I’ll be satisfied.”

Flip made a passing attempt to tame his hair before pulling his boots on. (Boots to a disco. There was no hope for him at all.) Before Sarah could pull her coat on at the front door, he’d drawn her close enough to kiss her mostly-bare shoulder appreciatively. She breathed out fast and gave his hair a brief, playful tug.

“No time for that, babe. Let’s go, let’s go!”

Flip released something between a sigh and a grumble of acceptance as he grabbed his own coat and followed her out the door. The sooner they left, the sooner they’d be home when there would be time for that.

“Brother!” Ron crowed as Flip and Sarah approached him and Patrice outside the club entrance. Flip dutifully extended his hand for his and Ron’s customary handshake-slide.

“Your glitter! You look dynamite,” Patrice greeted Sarah, immediately enveloping her in a hug.

Ron’s grin – beneath an afro boasting fresh volume – could only be described as shit-eating.

“I didn’t think there was a chance in hell she’d get you to come out.”

Flip sighed, his gaze sliding indulgently towards his girlfriend. “Looks like hell hasn’t frozen over yet.”

The moment they passed inside, Ron noticed Flip’s demeanor shift and stiffen a bit. He seemed to hunch his shoulders a bit, in a mostly futile bid to make his towering frame less conspicuous.

Not that he needed height to draw looks.

Sarah, while making it look perfectly natural and effortless, made sure to always be touching Flip. Whether linking her hand with his or staying pressed to his side, she made it clear he’s with me – he’s no trouble.

Ron navigated them to the bar and secured the first round of drinks. Just before Patrice dragged her off to the neon-light dance floor, Sarah tucked a kiss against Flip’s cheek and made the vaguely threatening promise, “Don’t get too cozy at the bar here, I’m coming back for you.”

Once the girls slid off into the dancing crowd, Ron raised his glass for Flip to toast.

“I always did want to see your moves, soul brother,” Flip joked, even as his gaze compulsively jumped from each set of potentially hostile eyes to the next. Without Sarah right there pressed against him, he couldn’t quite suppress the instinct.

“I’ll only show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Hate to break it to you, but even after all your tutelage I still don’t have a funky bone in my body. Probably a lost cause.”

Flip took a long sip and spotted Sarah over the rim of the glass, dancing at the center of the floor. Immediately, he found himself soothed.

Ron nudged his elbow into Flip’s side. “It’s all about the woman, partner.”

With some difficulty, Flip tore his gaze from Sarah to peer at Ron.

“What now?”

“All you gotta do is let your woman lead. The rest comes naturally, trust me.”

“I don’t know. Trusting you has landed me in some pretty deep shit once or twice.”

“Flip. It pains me that you don’t trust me as a reliable authority on disco.”

“Well. More of an authority than me, I’ll give you that. Though that ain’t saying much.”

“Sure as hell isn’t. Nice boots, by the way.”

“Fuck off.”

Ron just grins, looking to be having an absolute delight of a time.

When the girls rejoin them, and Sarah – all laughter and heaving heartbeat and smudged glitter around her eyes – shimmies in against his side again, Flip feels like a whole new kind of interloper.

She glows, the most enticing star that’s ever burned in the night sky, and no matter whether in a club frequented by whites or blacks, he’d still look utterly out of place with her.

Sarah loops her arms up around his neck and pulls playfully. “Time to face your fate.”

Flip tries to shoot a beseeching appeal to Ron, but only catches his back as Patrice tows him towards the flashing lights of the dance floor.

There’s no hope for him now.

“Honey – I’m gonna make you look a fool.”

He already looked the fool the second he stepped in here in his boots and worn flannel – even if it is Sarah’s favorite. But Sarah – her sashaying hips, hair flips, and light feet could put this whole place in the palm of her hand.

“Not with me, you won’t,” she promises brightly, seeming to have full confidence in the same power of the leading lady espoused by Ron.

Flip hates it, he really does. Never in his life has he been a dancer. Especially not in places where he’s a magnet for attention.

This is her night. It’s for her.

So he says nothing, and lets her slight, small hands pull him deep into the crowd of people on the dance floor.

In desperation, he recalls what Ron meant as advice: Let your woman lead. The rest comes naturally.

And somehow – his miraculous goddess of a woman makes it so easy. Her back to his front, Sarah holds his hands against either side of her hips, letting him feel the sway and dip of her movements. She presses back against him just enough to nudge him into the rhythm. Over her shoulder, Flip can see her smile as he gradually matches her pace. And it… isn’t so bad, moving where she moves, savoring the weaving of her body against his and just letting himself sink into equilibrium with her.

After almost three years together, the familiar yet no less spectacular shape of her small body pressed to his carries all the sure-footed reassurance of a bright blue, sunny sky.

She lets her head tip back against his shoulder, grinning between songs.

“Like I keep telling you, you’re not so bad, babe. Even for a white boy.”

Apparently not everyone agrees. Before Flip can make a joke in return, a young man detaches from the crowd with an impeccably styled afro almost to compete with Ron, armed with a charming smile all for Sarah.

Smoothly managing to avoid even a glance at Flip, the guy offers, “I couldn’t help but notice this gorgeous sister dancing near me, who looked like she might be in need of a proper partner. Might I be of service?”

Flip almost admires the guy’s nerve. He knows Sarah well enough to stay quiet and let her handle this herself.

Sarah just tucks herself closer to Flip, smiling sweetly at the guy. “Nice of you to offer, but I’m perfectly fine with my boyfriend here.”

The guy’s mouth opens in abrupt surprise. He finally looks at Flip now, reassessing.

Flip stays silent, but can’t help himself resting a possessive hand at Sarah’s shoulder. He looks somewhere other than the guy’s face, and makes every effort to temper his glare. While Flip concertedly doesn’t watch, the guy finally gets lost.

“What a presumptuous jerk, right?” Sarah looks up at Flip through her lashes, indulging him.

Flip keeps looking out into the crowd, a slight frown clinging to his lips despite his full knowledge that the guy was no threat.

Sarah is just about to poke him into dancing again when he mumbles only just audibly over the music, “If you want to have a few dances with a partner who knows what he’s doing… I won’t mind.”

Sarah just stares up at him for a long moment, before cracking an amused smile.

“How much did that hurt to choke out?”

“Nearly stuck in my throat.”

Smiling to herself and the happiest she’s been all night, Sarah draws herself closer against him and hooks her arms up around his neck, making Flip meet her eyes.

“You came out with me tonight. You’re the only one I want to dance with.”

The music slows into a gentle, easy beat and this – this Flip can handle just fine. He rests his hands at her waist, before sliding his arms around her and drawing her all the way in. Her breath is warm and soothing against his neck, as she hums in approval near his ear and settles into a slow, pleasant sway to the music.

This, Flip doesn’t mind one bit.

“Then I’m the luckiest son of a bitch here tonight.”

He wonders if the glitter on her face is rubbing off against his neck and shirt right now. He finds he really doesn’t care.

Sarah twirls her fingers in the hair along the back of his neck. She always loves when he lets his hair get long. She nestles in closer as Flip keeps them rocking back and forth. It’s her favorite place – wrapped in his arms and nearly enveloped in the breadth of his body.

Times like right now, Flip still can’t believe that, somehow, he’s to her taste. She’s the most beautiful woman in the place, and she’s spent the last three years with a lug like him. There are a hundred good reasons why she might never have given him the time of day – not the least being his job and the fact that her clubs, discos, and bars aren’t meant for him.

And yet – way back when, she was the one to kiss him first. She’s the one who keeps a hard line with her parents, who keep prodding her to “dump the pig already.” Three years and she’s still immovable.

Flip will never quite understand; he’ll just keep doing his best to treat her right and not tempt his good fortune.

The sweeping droplets reflecting off the disco ball dapple across her dark skin. Her long weave of braided hair is a bit mussed, and she’s warm and sweaty in his arms.

He dips his head, resting his lips near her ear.

“I can’t wait to get home and make love with you.”

She goes onto her toes, stretching up towards him in a way that’s simply sacred.

“You’ve been working late this week. I think you owe me an all-nighter.”

“’till dawn, at least.”

“Maybe straight through breakfast. We’ve got no plans tomorrow.”

And Flip wouldn’t even be surprised if she means it. She’s the tiniest woman he’s ever shared a bed with, but by far the most voracious. Keeping her satisfied is his supreme joy.

They only last another two songs. They find Ron and Patrice to say their goodbyes, before Sarah leads their way out with Flip’s hand gripped tight in hers.

He doesn’t plan on letting her go for the rest of the night.

Maybe not ever.

~~~~~

Flip had wondered when to broach it. Dreaded it.

On their third date, he thought it improper to put it off any longer.

“You haven’t asked me what I do for a living.”

Sarah had sat back in her seat across the diner booth. She knew that it had perhaps been intentional. She liked him so much so far. Perhaps she was scared of thinking of him separate from this – out doing things other than holding doors for her, waiting for her to initiate reaching for his hand before he so much as kissed her goodnight, smiling his crinkly smile and laughing his deep laugh at her jokes.

“I suppose I haven’t.”

Flip pushed fries around his plate, simultaneously relieved and deeply regretting steering the conversation this way.

Still. He knew putting it off any longer would only make it worse.

“I’m a detective. I… work down at the station.”

Her body stiffened. Her hands, which had been laid on the table as if in consideration of touching him, withdrew to her lap. Her jaw went rigid, mouth drawn tight.

“So you’re a cop.”

He only barely had the heart to look at her. Still, he nodded.

“You could say that.”

She crossed her arms, shifted on the seat. He wondered if she was weighing the option to walk out right then and there.

Instead, she asked in a voice deceptively light and difficult to parse, “You do fancy undercover work?”

“Sometimes. It’s not so fancy though, usually just listening to wire taps all day.”

She stared at him – gaze assessing and harder than usual, but not entirely closed off. Not yet, at least.

“You ever arrested people?”

“It’s in the line of work.”

“People like me? Who never done anything wrong but live in a world where others don’t want us to?”

Flip took a deep breath. He was already jonesing for a cigarette.

“I have arrested two black men, yes. But two who’d done quite a bit wrong and only after we had reliable evidence against them.”

Her eyes took on a fierce glint now.

“You ever been the type to flash your lights and pull over a black driver just to rough them up a bit?”

Flip’s mouth twitches into a frown, his tone turning a shade less gentle. “Do I seem the type?”

Sarah doesn’t give an inch of ground. “No, you’ve gotta tell me. Because you could be a very different person when you walk out that door than the one sitting here with me. For all I know, you may be the type who thinks it’s fine to bag a black woman, but wouldn’t blink an eye if you saw one of my brothers beaten on the streets.”

Flip sat back, all thought of food gone along with any trace of resistance. He kept fitting together then discarding answers – each more deficient than the last. Whatever he says, he knows it can’t entirely quell her misgivings. Only his actions and time can do that.

He doesn’t say that the barber who cuts his hair is black. He doesn’t say that he mows the lawn for the elderly woman across the street from him, who happens to be black. He understands that just like his presence here across the table from her, that doesn’t prove anything.

“I can tell you that no, I’ve never pulled over anyone of any color if they weren’t speeding. But I know that’s not enough. All I can do is ask for the chance to take you out again and start proving it.”

She took him in for a long time, simply assessing the sincerity in his expression – weighing the future burden of inevitably navigating the chasms between their experiences and views of the world. Would he understand that some of those chasms could never be crossed; but it was his responsibility to see them anyway?

“I should just warn you - I’m difficult to please,” she said, the hint of a smile returning in just the corners of her lips. “But I’ll give you that chance. From what I know of you so far, I think you’ll make it count.”

She rested her hands up on the table again, leaning in again over her seat.

On the other side of the booth, Flip relaxed. She was still there. He realized part of him hadn’t expected anything after this conversation. He’d thought it wasn’t even worth hoping for – that she’d still be comfortable spending time with him once she knew everything.

But she’d given him a chance, and Flip intended to earn and treasure her trust.

He slid his hand across the table, just so his fingertips could brush across the back of her hand. He waited, but she didn’t pull away. She just gave him a small, budding smile.

“Let’s go get a drink.”

~~~~~~~~

Since the day she first met him in the bar where she used to mix drinks, Sarah has always felt completely and utterly safe with Flip. He’d come over and interposed himself between her and three guys who’d been harassing her as she tried to leave from a shift. He’d walked her out to the parking lot, offered to drive her home, and she’d never wanted to be parted from him since. It was more than simply trusting him – more than knowing with absolute certainty that he was a good, honorable man who respected and provided for her.

It was his size, when they were out together and a pair of hostile eyes fled in the opposite direction when they caught sight of him at her side. It was his carrying license and shoulder holsters – the only weapons she’d ever known with certainty would never turn against her, but would only ever be used in her protection. It was the way his presence beside her at the grocery store made the checkout person smile at her with a brightness she’d never known before. It was the way no white man sneered or smirked at her across a crowded room anymore, ever since Flip became a permanent fixture.

For a long time, she never told him these things – afraid he would feel she was using him. Sarah never troubled herself with such qualms. She knew she loved Flip for the right reasons. All the advantages to being with him had only made themselves known after she chose his company, after all.

Of course, not all her friends and family would call them “advantages.”

“How could you?” her now ex-friend had hissed. “Racist cops are out there running us down like dogs, and you’re fucking one.”

Sarah had just fixed her hair, unperturbed. This was nothing she hadn’t already considered.

“If you respect me as a woman and friend, you’d trust me to never betray my people like that.”

“But that’s what it sure sounds like.”

“Know what I think? I think it sounds like you’re doing the same thing as those racist cops. Which – I’d care to note – Flip isn’t.”

“How could you even compare-“

“It sounds like you’re trying to tell me they’re all the same, but I thought we were more evolved than that.”

Sarah doesn’t shrink from her black pride. For a while, she wondered if it was a type of passing – enjoying the freedom from harassment thanks to her intimacy with a white man. Wondered if she had crossed some invisible line without realizing, and was now separated from her brothers and sisters.

But then she’d get groceries or go to the butcher on her own, and nothing had changed. Not really. Except she’d go home and be even more grateful for the warmth of Flip’s arms and the soft scrape of his beard when she kissed him.

Home was safe. Home was where he was. And so she stopped worrying about any of it.

Then he finally asked.

She’d been out late with some friends – a little tipsy when she rung him at the station to come pick her up from the club.

It wasn’t one of the clubs they usually frequented – one that was a bit more mixed. She and her two friends had only been outside for all of a few minutes before two burly white men started jeering from across the street. They crossed the street, but were only just approaching the girls when Flip pulled up. But they’d been close enough, and Flip was trained to read violence in body language.

He’d swung a sloppy park job, jumped from the truck, and blocked their approach. He’d flashed his badge in case the contempt in his glare wasn’t loud enough. Maybe it’d be enough to scare them off such behavior for good.

He’d had Sarah’s friends squeeze into the truck and dropped them off before bringing Sarah home. She remained silent – mostly because she wasn’t a talkative drunk, but Flip perceived different reasons entirely.

They were in the kitchen – Sarah chugging water, Flip hovering in the doorway, unsure if the comfort he wanted to give would be welcome – when he asked.

“Is it ever… too hard?”

Sarah needed a moment to focus on him. The kitchen lights were so bright. The concern and anxiety in his expression was a lot to take in.

“Is what?”

He huffed a slow sigh, lifting a hand to rub across his mouth for a moment as if feeling the shape of each word as he considers them.

“Being with someone who looks like me. Who looks like…. That.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Sarah had filled and downed a second glass of water, willing herself sober.

When she looked at him again, she knew he hadn’t asked for any reassurance for his own sake. He wasn’t asking for her validation or forgiveness, nor was he trying to indirectly make some ‘we’re not all like that’ statement. The question had been solely for her sake – the rest of the world be damned.

And that… that makes her answer for him; with an answer no less true.

She comes to stand near him in the entryway to the kitchen, watching him look between her face and scanning her body, as if still reassuring himself nothing happened. She waits until he relaxes slightly, until she has his attention completely in the present moment.

“Flip. Baby. You don’t look like them. Not to me.”

She reached up to touch his cheek, to trace she shape of his mouth as he pressed a small, hesitant smile against her fingers. His hand on her hip was gentle and warm.

They got ready for bed in silence. Flip helped with undoing the back of her dress and sliding her head and arms into her pajama shirt – her coordination not quite at peak performance.

In bed, the lights out, Flip pulled her close and wrapped her up more tightly than usual. He kissed her ear until she’d gone utterly relaxed and content. At first, she burrowed her face in close against his chest, breathing in all the comfort he offered. She luxuriated in the strength she could feel at rest in his arms – alongside the tender circling of his fingertips along her back.

Suddenly, she had more to say. She lifted up just enough to find his eyes in the dim bedroom. She stroked his hair back from his face, leaning close.

“You look like the guy I don’t bitch about cooking dinner for. Who picks me up without a single complaint when it’s the middle of the night and I’m drunk. Who can fuck real good but love even better. The guy who doesn’t think he’s noble for treating me well – it’s just what anyone should do. You look like the guy who doesn’t ask if it’s a place for whites or colors, when we go out. The guy who says my hair’s beautiful, even though you’ll never understand why it takes so long to get it done.”

She leans a little closer now, her hands coming up cup his jaw, fingers gently stroking over his beard.

“You look like the guy I trust to keep me safe. The only guy I’ve ever known where it actually makes me feel better, knowing you keep a handgun in the closet. That’s what I see, Flip - the guy who gave me what means the most. A home where I know I’ll always be safe.”

As much as it enrages him, tonight had hardly been an isolated incident. Sarah had plenty of stories of experiencing such threats – some of which Flip had witnessed firsthand. But he has no power over people’s cruelty or small-mindedness. Neither of them do. All he can do is look out for her. And the whole time, part of him had just waited until it became too much for her. Until all his skin color represents became too burdensome to keep in her life any longer.

So this – it means something to him. She doesn’t see him as a turncoat or defector from enemy lines; still hovering in her line of vision. To her, he has always been behind her own line – on her own side, in private from the rest of the world.

“Sarah, I swear I’ll always protect you. Until the day when this world is less fucked up and you don’t need it anymore.”

“Mm…. but what if I still need you?”

Flip nuzzles the top of her head, draws her in a little tighter.

“Then I’ll still be there.”

She’s half asleep, head pillowed against his chest and his arms still twined around her, when she murmurs, “Flip?”

He rumbles out, “Hm?”

“Tell me you love me.”

Truth be told, he’d been thinking it. Just nervous to say the words – as he perpetually was, no matter that it wasn’t anything near the first time.

Flip opened his eyes to press a kiss to her forehead, then three more down the side of her half-asleep face. Warmth bloomed in him at her contented sigh.

“I love you. More than I know the words for.”

She rumbled a sigh, her head nodding sleepily against his chest as her lips curled in a smile.

“Good.”

#BlacKkKlansman #Flip Zimmerman #Flip fic #Adam Driver

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tigerintokyo · 4 years

Text

IDOLiSH7 Part 1, Ch 4.3 side story

Side Story: A Man Very Much Still Involved

(other parts in the directory)

Translation under the break.

Audience: Kyaaaaaa! TRIGGER!!

Audience: Tenn-kuuuun!

Tenn: Everyone! Thanks for tonight!

Tenn: Ah.... ............ .....Riku is in the audience....

Riku: ............

Tenn: Next up is our new song.....

Riku: Tenn-nii!

Tenn: ..…….

Riku: Tenn-nii, are you happy?

Riku: Are you happy going off on your own and leaving us behind?

Tenn: ...........We have another song for you. Our new song.....

Riku: Don't act like you can't hear me!

Tenn: SECRET NIGHT!

Riku: Tenn-nii! Tenn-nii! Haa....... H-haaa, u....ugh.....

Tenn: Riku......

Audience: Kyaaaaaaaa....! Tenn-kuuuun!

Riku: Hee......ugh......

Tenn: Riku......! ........Somebody, help him! He's having an attack! Somebody help him get out of here!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaaa....! Tenn-kuuuun.....!

Tenn: Help Riku! Don't push him!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaaa....!

Tenn: Somebody....!

Tenn: ........ugh

Tenn: .........what..... ..........a bad dream.......

Tenn: .........where am I? I wanted to get some rest and fell asleep. ......It's cold.....

Tenn: ........I have to go. I have to find a taxi to the venue.

Tenn: The fans are waiting for me.

Ryunosuke: What should we do about this song?

Gaku: It would flow better if you sing Tenn's part in this one, Ryuu.

Ryunosuke: OK. We have to change a lot more than I thought. I have to make sure I remember the lyrics......

Gaku: I'll cover you. Besides, it's not going to be perfect with just the two of us anyway. TRIGGER needs all three members.

Gaku: He would probably complain hearing this, but if someone is missing, it should feel like there's a hole that can't be filled.

Ryunosuke: Haha....... Gaku, this is what I like about you. I think he would appreciate that.

Gaku: I'm glad you like it. But, I'm not sure what he would think about us.....

Ryunosuke: He would appreciate it. Oh, also, did you see the t-shirts this time?

Gaku: Oh, the ones with our faces on them?

Ryunosuke: How about wearing the one with Tenn's face on it for one of the parts? Maybe it would feel like all three of us are dancing together.

Gaku: That's not a bad idea! That cold-blooded kid would be moved while he's lying in the hospital.

Ryunosuke: Right?

Kaoru: Please stop.

Gaku: ......Manager? Why?

Kaoru: TRIGGER's brand is more luxurious than that. A messy, sweaty performance doesn't fit the brand. It'll ruin your image.

Gaku: Tsk...... Ryuu was just making a suggestion.

Kaoru: If you're worried about Tenn, then just send him a RabbiChat. Right now. Come on.

Gaku: I'm not worried about him.

Ryunosuke: Hey, let's all wear the t-shirt with Tenn on it and send him a get well message!

Gaku: I'm not sure about that.....

Ryunosuke: Why?

Gaku: He's going to make fun of us about it for the rest of our lives.

Kaoru: It's fine if you send it in private. But, I gained a little weight recently. I hope I still look OK in a t-shirt.

Ryunosuke: You always look beautiful though, Anesagi-san.

Kaoru: Oh my, thank you. Ryuu, you're a good man.

Kaoru: Gaku isn't as thoughtful though. He's more like his father, cold to any woman who isn't the apple of his eye.

Gaku: .....I'm not like him... Wow, so pretty, so beautiful.

Kaoru: W-what an annoying child.

Kaoru: Fufu. I'm just kidding. Gaku and Ryuu and Tenn are all my stars. I'm proud of all of you. I'm leaving Tenn's parts in your hands, today.

Ryunosuke: Will do!

Gaku: Tsk........ Got it.

Kaoru: Even so, will the fans be alright today? I heard they closed off a lot of streets today. I hope everyone can make it on time.....

Ryunosuke: It would be good if they all can make it here safely. I've been looking forward to seeing the fans tonight.

Gaku: That's right....

Gaku: There was an alert and an evacuation because of hazardous materials.

Gaku: I want to help them forget their worries by having a night with us. We'll have to do our best to make sure they have fun tonight!

Ryunosuke: Yeah!

Tamaki: I have to move now? To where? But if the bomb is moved around, it'll go off, right?

Female detective: Yes. We'll have to move carefully. Just a little so you're a little more shielded off....

Tamaki: This is so scary.....

Female detective: It'll be okay. Like a tightrope walk. It'll be your circus debut.

Tamaki: Haha...... I want to do the ball walk.

Yamato: Why are they moving Tama? Isn't it more dangerous if they move him around too much?

Nagi: It's because he could be sniped. If I were a terrorist, that's what I would try to do. If you shoot him and he falls down, the sensor would be triggered.

Yamato: Then why are you still here?

Nagi: I'm hoping the terrorists will get confused again and think I'm holding the bag with the bomb in it. Yamato, you should go with Tamaki.

Yamato: You're making yourself the bait..... If that's what you're trying to do, I'm staying with you.

Nagi: Why?

Yamato: Because I want to read the manga you're carrying. I need to protect the manga from getting damaged.

Nagi: Yamato, you're not very good at this. Now is the time to be giving me a passionate, heartfelt message .

Yamato: Isn't there a good line you could give me?

Nagi: ………...! Yamato, duck!

(Sound of a gun shot)

Yamato: Ahh....!

Yamato: What was that?! Did they shoot at us?! How did you know it was coming?!

Nagi: There was a laser mark. I know which direction it came from. I'm going after them.

Yamato: Wait! How the hell do you know all this?!

Nagi: I read too much manga!

Yamato: Yeah, I know that!

Suspicious guy with stubble: That guy is running this way.... Shit, he was a decoy.

Suspicious guy with stubble: We're surrounded by cops..... .......We have to get out of here! Where is the bomb?!

(Thud)

Yamato: Ugh........

Suspicious guy with stubble: ......! A bystander running away..... ……….

Yamato: Wait! Please don't kill me....!

Suspicious guy with stubble: Don't yell! .......Should I take him as a hostage.....? ..........hands up! Hands behind your head!

Yamato: Don't kill me! Please, I won't tell anyone.....! ....Please, let me live....

Suspicious guy with stubble: Stay on your feet! Come this way! ........?!

Yamato: ...........Cool down as much as you want!

Suspicious guy with stubble: Agh......!? Tear gas?! My eyes.....!

Yamato: Nagi!

Nagi: HEY!

Suspicious guy with stubble: ...............!

(Pow!)

Suspicious guy with stubble: .........ugh....ahhh.....!

Narration: Meanwhile....

Mitsuki: We bought so many concert goods!

Sogo: We sure did!

Mitsuki: When you wait in line too long, you end up wanting to buy even more!

Sogo: I'll have to make one of those shrines you were telling me about. I'm really excited for the concert now!

Mitsuki: Right?!

Mitsuki & Sogo: ♪~ Ikou~ Wake me up~♪

Suspicious guy with stubble: ..........m-my gun......!

Nagi: Yamato, hold onto the gun! Be careful of the trigger!

Yamato: ........Nagi, behind you....!

Suspicious guy with stubble: Damn you.....!

Nagi: Dear God, please forgive me for the act of blasphemy I am about to commit.

Suspicious guy with stubble: What the hell are you saying..... ......!?

Nagi: 27 Volume Manga Attack to the Face.....!

Suspicious guy with stubble: Gah......!

Yamato: Manga works well as a weapon!

Nagi: Good boys and girls don't try this at home!

Suspicious guy with stubble: ......ugh......ugh.....! ......these fucking brats.....!

Suspicious guy with stubble: I'll kill you.....!

Yamato: Hey, Nagi.....! He's got a knife on him!

Nagi: .......OH....... My brand new manga....... I'm sorry you got hurt.....

Yamato: You can be sad about it later!

Suspicious guy with stubble: Aaaaaahhhh......!

Narration: Meanwhile....

Tenn: .........Ugh....Taxi......

Tenn: .....They're not stopping for me..... They usually always stop here..... ........t-taxi......

Tenn: ............ Maybe I'm too weak to be noticed........

Tenn: Hey....... haa...... I need to have a good performance.... for the fans....

Tenn: ………….

Tenn: TAXI~! Excuse me. I need a lift.

(Gets in)

Taxi driver: Hello! Where are you headed?

Yamato: Nagi, watch out!

Suspicious guy with stubble: Die......!

Nagi: .......... The only person who can attack me from behind is a woman waking up with me.

Suspicious guy with stubble: ........How could you see me?! I was behind you?!

Nagi: I don't like persistent men. Let's get this over with.

Nagi: Farewell.

Suspicious guy with stubble: Fuck.....!

Narration: Meanwhile....

Tamaki: Wow...... I'm surrounded by riot shields. Like I'm some kind of monster....

Female detective: They're here to protect you. You said you were hungry, right? How about some yogurt?

Tamaki: Thanks.

Female detective: Here, say ah.

Tamaki: Ahh.

Female detective:Thank you for trusting us. You guys are something else. I think I want to be your fan now.

Female detective: I'm looking forward to seeing you guys a year from now.

Nagi: Whew....... He finally stopped moving.

Yamato: Ah..... We managed somehow....

Nagi: Yamato, nice acting. I didn't get to see it, but your voice alone was a true performance.

Yamato: Well, I'm good at bluffing.

Nagi: Oh...?

Yamato: Where did you learn how to fight?

Nagi: I practiced fighting because of Kokona.

Yamato: Really.....?

Junior detective: Are you guys okay?!

Yamato: Oh, Mr. Detective. Can you take this old guy for us?

Junior detective: ......! This man..... He's the mastermind behind a terrorist group! A major target!

Junior detective: We've been catching his men around here. Also, the bomb squad arrived to help your friend.

Yamato: That's great.

Nagi: We can head over to the concert with Tamaki! How long will it take to disarm the bomb?

Junior detective: Maybe one or two hours!

Yamato & Nagi: What?!

Junior detective: After that, we'll have to debrief him. It'll be OK! We'll also buy you guys katsudon! [1]

Yamato: .......Hey, hey. Right after you finish disarming Tama's bomb, we have to take off..... Otherwise we won't make it to TRIGGER's concert.

Nagi: .......That's right. We absolutely cannot be late today.

Iori: There's already a lot of people here.

Riku:………….

Iori: Nanase-san?

Riku: Ah......... Yeah. It's a lot of people.

Iori: You've been pretty quiet since we left. Also, you look a little pale.

Riku: It's nothing! I'm fine.....

Iori: ………….

Iori: .........I'm not sure what kind of dream you had last night. As I said, there's no way I could know what it was.

Iori: But, this isn't a dream. This is reality. I have the same dream as you, Nanase-san. That dream is IDOLiSH7.

Iori: I don't know what's going on with you, but how about cheering up a little? Nanase-san.......

Riku: What? Did you say something? Sorry, I'm a little out of it....

Iori: .......Could you at least listen when someone is talking to you.....?

Tsumugi: Riku-san, Iori-san, sorry if I kept you waiting!

Iori: Manager.

Mitsuki: Iori! Riku! We're over here!

Sogo: Thanks for waiting!

Riku: Mitsuki, Sogo-san!

Tsumugi: It's almost time for the doors to open! When we have everyone, let's all go in together!

Mitsuki: OK!

Tsumugi: I'm so excited! For TRIGGER!

Next episode

T/N:

katsudon = deep-fried pork cutlet on rice with egg

Please do not use my translations without my permission.

#i7 #IDOLiSH7 #ainana #my translation

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marshmallowgoop · 5 years

Text

Studio Trigger Live Drawing with Tetsuya Sakurai (02/20/19): Transcript (Non-Verbatim)

Studio Trigger streamed their third Twitch live drawing at 18:00 JST on February 20, 2019. The stream features inbetween animator Tetsuya Sakurai drawing Satsuki Kiryuin from Kill la Kill, as well as producer Hiromi Wakabayashi and translator Tatsuru Tatemoto. A full video of the stream is available on Twitch here.

I’ve put together a transcript of the stream for anyone curious about the Q and A. While the transcript is not verbatim, all the meaning should still be captured.

Transcript

Tatsuru Tatemoto (Tattun): Sakurai started one year earlier than the last live drawing animator, Sato. Sakurai’s first work at Studio Trigger was in DARLING in the FRANXX. He’s been with Trigger for about two years.

Sakurai is an inbetween animator at Studio Trigger. Today, he’s going to draw Satsuki Kiryuin from Kill la Kill. He had some time to practice, so we’ll see what he has for us today. He’s a bit nervous, but he’ll give his best. I hope you enjoy the live drawing.

The producer just came in right now, but he’s going to use the restroom before he comes in.

Let’s get started with some questions on Patreon. This stream is made possible with the support of all our Patrons on Patreon. Thank you. Every bit of support is appreciated. None of the money gathered on Patreon is used as revenue for the studio. All goes to projects or staff and is much appreciated. Thank you very much.

If you would like to participate with questions, we do Q and As with the live drawings. Also, Patrons can vote on who the live drawers draw. We don’t have a link to our Twitch page on Patreon, but we will add it. The Twitch page isn’t too difficult to find and is on other social media, such as our Twitter and official site.

We do have our producer now, Hiromi Wakabayashi. He’s a regular MC for our streaming sessions.

Our first question is from Luke Roberts: “How long does it usually take to draw one frame, and how are the drawings kept so consistent with different people drawing them?”

Sakurai says that it depends on the cut. However, it generally takes about one hour to draw one inbetween frame.

Wakabayashi says that the drawings are consistent along the frames because there’s an animator—I think the direct translation is “animation director”—and they are the ones who kind of direct each frame to make sure there’s consistency throughout the series. There are episode directors who do this work.

We generally try to answer off of the questionnaires, but sometimes, we receive some questions that we obviously cannot answer for various reasons. “Can we expect a global theater release for Promare?” is an example, but I’ll ask for the hell of it.

I was not expecting such a thorough answer! Hiromi says that he would want a worldwide release if possible. There have been multiple announcements about Promare. If the opportunity allows, they want a worldwide release. Hopefully, they will get it.

We were just talking about Kill la Kill, the subject of the drawing. There was a close match between Satsuki and Nonon for this live drawing session. Nonon was just short of three votes for winning. I was secretly voting for Nonon with my own account. It’s unfortunate for the Nonon fans. Sakurai was low-key rooting for Satsuki, though, so I guess it worked out for him.

So, we’ve asked Sakurai what he usually works with. He usually likes to work digitally. When he draws for fun, he usually uses digital. When Sakurai doodles, he likes to color the illustration as well.

The next question is from Manuel Armando Marquez Gonzalez. I’m sorry if I mess up your names. The question is, “How is Trigger involved in the development of Kill la Kill the Game? And how did the project start?”

The answer was pretty long! Hopefully I can answer. Kill la Kill the Game initially started with the character designer at Arc System Works, Mori, who is the designer for BlazBlue. Mori watched Kill la Kill. Early after the airing of Kill la Kill, he pitched the idea to Arc System Works about doing a game. The idea was approved, and the idea was given to Studio Trigger’s production committee. That’s when the game project started.

The offer for the game was given pretty soon after the series ended. It’s been the works for a long time. Trigger’s involvement in the game process is to review character models and the stories. Trigger aren’t professionals when it comes to gameplay, though. Arc System Works are the professionals there because it’s their industry, so Arc System Works does the majority of that work. I hope that was a good answer for our questioner.

I was talking to Sakurai now. I get a lot of opportunities to watch animators draw, and I find it interesting that everyone has their own operation on how they draw their characters. I noticed that Sakurai kind of leaves the characters bald and draws hair later. Sakurai says that that’s just kind of how he’s doing the illustration now. There are times when he draws the hair with the face.

I questioned if Sakurai had ever drawn a fan illustration of Kill la Kill before. Sakurai drew fanart of Satsuki and Ryuko right after the final episode aired. He uploaded the piece on Twitter, so maybe you can find it. However, he makes his Twitter private, so it might be difficult to find the picture.

Wakabayashi and I asked Sakurai what his preferences for drawing are. What characters does he like to draw? Sakurai said that he preferred drawing female characters. He likes drawing female characters in long coats, like a long double coat. I guess that’s his kink!

Sakurai explained that he doodles original characters in his free time.

The next question is from Paul Schmidt, who asks, “Sakurai-san, what is it like being a Douga-man? Is it a lot of work? In a typical half-hour episode, how many frames/cuts do you have to draw? I submit anime staff credits to Anime News Network’s encyclopedia as a hobby, and I discovered your name was not in the database (at least not credited).”

I’ll split the question up.

Sakurai says that he currently enjoys being an inbetween animator, but when he first started working, he wasn’t used to the environment and wasn’t too comfortable with it. Sakurai thinks that the workload is pretty average.

Sakurai explained that it’s very difficult to calculate or put out a number for how many frames he works on per episode because each episode can be drastically different. He can maybe say how many frames he works on a week, which is maybe 50-60 frames because he does about 10 frames a day.

We asked our tech guy to pump up the volume for Sakurai’s microphone.

There’s a question that asks, “Is the iPad good for drawing?” I can’t pronounce the questioner’s name.

The third-generation iPad is very good for drawing. Today, we were planning to use the latest model of Cintiq 16 from Wacom for drawing, but it was broken when we tried to test with it. We had it fixed for stream, but we didn’t have enough time to set it up, so we’re using Intuos 5 today. Fortunately, Sakurai likes working with Intuos 5, and it’s his personal item that he brought with him today. He’s working in a preferred environment. We’re not forcing him to work with unfamiliar equipment.

There are a lot of questions regarding Inferno Cop season 2 on the chat log right now. Hiromi says that Studio Trigger wants to do it! However, the issue they’re having right now is that they have so much actual animation work to do. Inferno Cop is an animation as well, but there’s so much on Trigger’s to-do list that they haven’t gotten around to Inferno Cop yet. Ideally, Hiromi says, they only want to work on comical series, but to keep the studio going, they have to do actual work.

It has been a while since the studio has done anything with Inferno Cop, so Hiromi has talked to the studio about doing some more Inferno Cop along the line, though.

Sakurai is struggling with the shoulder parts of Satsuki, Wakabayashi says. Satsuki’s shoulder pads are difficult to draw! When Studio Trigger was designing the character, there were parts put in that Wakabayashi thought would cause a lot of problems for animators.

Wakabayashi says that they had some slight hope that some animators would find it entertaining to draw Satsuki’s shoulder pads. They would have to think about how the shoulder pads would move and work at different angles.

Our previous animator, Mr. Sato, likes drawing mechs and robots on top of characters. I was curious if Sakurai likes drawing mechs as well. Sakurai doesn’t like drawing non-organic objects, though he does like drawing the little details in clothing. Sakurai likes drawing the arm portion of coats, like the creases and stuff. He likes the little details.

There’s a question from Oscar Manjarrez, who asks, “How are the figures made? Do you reach out to Good Smile or other companies to make them, or is it the other way around? Just wondering if a Ryuko Figma would be made in her street clothing.”

Wakabayashi says it works both ways. Trigger does approach the figure companies in the pre-production portion of production. Trigger pitches that they’re making a certain kind of animation or series and asks if the company would be interested in making merchandise. If the company is interested in making merchandise, they can start making merchandise earlier and release the figures during the airing of the series.

What usually happens is that the company watches the studio’s animation and series and has their own interest. If the series is publicly well known, a company might make an attempt to make a figure. They want a profit as well, so they might ask to make a figure of one of the studio’s characters.

It’s not a Figma, but there was a jacket version of Ryuko from Medicom Toy. It’s a very big and pretty pricey figure.

There was a question from a user named by nora_soncho in our Twitch chat log. They ask if Promare will get a lot of figures and figurines.

The answer is “hopefully.” However, Wakabayashi doesn’t see a lot of figures being made for original movie titles. They’re pretty confident with the title, and they can only hope, and they wouldn’t be too surprised if figures were made possible.

We asked Sakurai if he likes collecting figurines or buying them. His response is sadly that he has just a few; he doesn’t really have an appreciation for figures. For hobbies, he likes playing games. He likes both console and PC games. He appreciates indie titles on Steam more.

Wakabayashi was curious if Sakurai knew about Indivisible. One of Trigger’s lead animators worked on the opening sequence for the game. Sakurai knows about the game and the company.

JxSam asks, “How did you guys pick Raemz to do some promotional Trigger art last month? It’s pretty inspiring to see someone non-Japanese be featured like that!”

I don’t think Raemz is the first non-Japanese person we’ve asked to do the Studio Trigger illustration of the month. I think we’ve had others. To answer your question, several of our staff, myself included, liked her art. I just approached her in the Comic Market, or maybe a different event. We were fortunate enough that she agreed to draw for us.

Apparently, Sakurai has finished doing the roughs. Now, he’s working on the final draft of the lines.

Evandro997 says, “Do Trigger receive a lot of portfolios from overseas? If yes, what do you think about them?”

Wakabayashi says they receive overseas portfolios from time to time, but he doesn’t think that they receive them often. They obviously do review these portfolios when they get them, though.

We asked Sakurai if he streams drawings on his private time. He says that he draws for fun, but he’s never streamed before. He’s a little nervous and uncomfortable because people can see all the little mistakes he made. People can see his in-progress illustration, which he thinks is kind of embarrassing.

Sakurai is using an Intuos 5 tablet today, the medium size.

Wakabayashi asked Sakurai about how he feels about Patreon and other financial support that Trigger receives from the fans. Sakurai responded that he appreciates Patreon and the financial support; it feels good.

Wakabayashi says that something like Patreon is a very foreign culture in Japan; there’s no culture of tipping in Japan. People don’t give money because they appreciate others’ work. Simply put, Wakabayashi is happy that they receive so much support from everyone.

There’s a question from Patreon, from Bill Erak, who asks, “So, how much power do producers have on a show? Like, oftentimes I see that there were decisions made by writers, others by directors, and others by producers. Writers and directors I kind of understand, but if producers have too much power, wouldn’t that make them straight-up directors, too?”

Wakabayashi says the answer to this question depends on the project. For example, a particular project might be started up by producers. A producer might go and find a director that they want their particular series directed by, as well as the staff that they want. In that case, the producer obviously has an agenda that he wants to pursue. He will probably comment here and there on how he wants the series to be executed. There are times when producers might have absolutely no say, though. A project might be very creative driven, where the director and scriptwriter will basically choose every finer detail of the project, and the producer is just there to make the process as stress free as possible.

Wakabayashi says that he can’t speak for other studios. However, with Studio Trigger, not any one person (scriptwriter, director, producer, etc.) has too much power. That’s just Trigger, though. The situation might be different in different studios.

Wakabayashi says that at Studio Trigger, they also feel that you don’t have to be a director, scriptwriter, producer, etc. to provide input. They welcome input regardless of position.

Sakurai is explaining that he’s making a lot of mistakes right now. However, that’s the benefit of drawing digitally. You can make as many mistakes as you want, CTRL+Z, and it’s gone. That’s not the case in physical drawing. You have to erase, and the paper gets worn out.

I explained this a bit earlier. One of our Twitch viewers asked in Japanese if Sakurai wants to work with… I guess digital tablets? I don’t know the correct term in English, but they asked if Sakurai was interested in working with a tablet like Cintiq.

Sakurai was interested initially. We bought a Cintiq 16 one for this stream and tried to test it out. However, when we tried to test a few days ago, there were problems with the equipment. We had to get the tablet repaired. As such, Sakurai is instead using his own tablet, the Intuos 5, which is what he usually draws with.

What time is it in Ukraine right now?

Would Studio Trigger accept donations and have Twitch stamps? We don’t have plans at the moment, but to be honest, we haven’t looked into it too much.

For people living in the east coast, west coast, or wherever where it’s like 3:00 or 5:00 am, please don’t deprive yourself of sleep. There should be a VOD enabled, so you can watch later.

We had a question if this is the studio that worked on Evangelion. Wakabayashi says not really! They’re the sidekick, like the Robin to Batman!

Wakabayashi says that he’ll maybe look into making a stamp. However, if they have to make it, that’s a lot of work that has to go in. They’ll look into it.

It looks like Sakurai has finished the face and is working on the body.

Wakabayashi was the creative officer for Kill la Kill. He commented on Sakurai’s drawing, saying that it looks just like Satsuki!

Wakabayashi is curious about what Sakurai wants to do in the future. Sakurai obviously wants to move up to a key frame animator. Then, he wants to do episodic directing, which is meaty directing on individual episodes. He wants to create something that is highly influenced by his own creative touch. He possibly wants to do a one-man ending sequence where all of the frames are executed by him.

Sakurai doesn’t ultimately want to become a director. He wants to take big steps and go up the ranks of the animators in the industry.

Wakabayashi says that it’s good to have a goal. It’s a motivating factor.

Studio Trigger is a lot more open to ideas, Wakabayashi adds. They try to provide opportunities to the staff. So, if animators keep saying that they’re interested in something and keep telling executives of their interest, sooner or later, it will happen. Wakabayashi says to keep trying.

Blademaster223 asks, “Will Trigger hire more foreign animators if the language barrier problem is solved?”

The question is a little broad, so Wakabayashi’s answer might not be the exact answer you’re expecting. The reason that Studio Trigger can’t hire foreign animators and staff is for a multitude of reasons. Trigger does work with a lot of foreign creators, like with Little Witch Academia and Promare. They don’t come to the studio, but Trigger works with a lot of overseas staff.

There are language barriers, but there are also financial issues. Visas cost a lot of money to obtain. Trigger isn’t big enough to sustain the money for visas.

Again, we covered a similar question in our previous stream as well. In today’s day and age, with all these technologies, you don’t have to be living in Japan to work with a particular entity. You can work online. That’s how Trigger does a lot of transaction with overseas creatives. There are staff like myself, who help with online translations all the time.

I think everyone is too concerned that they have to live in Japan to work with a Japanese studio. That might have been the case like 10 years ago, but I don’t think that’s the case today.

Hiromi asked if Sakurai watches overseas animation. Sakurai watches Disney and Pixar. Sakurai is very excited for Spider-Verse, which is coming out very late in Japan.

It’s very difficult to create those kinds of stunning visuals in Japan, Wakabayashi says. They’re interested in seeing what the movie is like.

Has Sakurai received any influence? Does he like Japanese animation? He likes Evangelion, specifically the reboot. He likes the newer, theatrical Evangelion and appreciates it more because it’s the first Evangelion he saw. The title was Rebuild of Evangelion. The fourth installment is in production right now. Sakurai is curious to see where it goes!

Sakurai doesn’t really have a favorite director, but he does appreciate Mr. Anno’s work. He did appreciate Shin Godzilla as well. Sakurai’s preference is more serious. He likes more serious anime over more comical ones.

Sakurai thinks that Studio Trigger’s method of direction or artistic touch is very American. [Wakabayashi laughs.] Wakabayashi says that is very exclusive to Imaishi’s work.

Are there any favorite Japanese anime series aside from movies that Sakurai likes? He likes the works from Kyoto Animation, though he doesn’t have any particular titles.

I asked Sakurai if he tried applying for Kyoto Animation before Trigger. Sakurai said that he only applied for Trigger, and I asked why. Why wouldn’t he want to work at the studio he likes most? Sakurai explained that he wants to keep what he likes… I don’t know if I can translate well. He wants to be able to enjoy his favorite thing as a hobby and not make it work.

The reason why Sakurai chose Studio Trigger over other studios is because he felt that the art direction seemed like it would be the most interesting to work with. It was the catchiest to him.

Hiromi explained that Sakurai has an interesting perspective. Instead of going to a serious studio and being serious there, it might be good to go to a less-serious studio so that you kind of stand out there.

We asked Sakurai how frequently he draws for fun. He says he draws for fun pretty much every day. At work, he draws in his free time. At home, he draws digitally as well.

This is a question from Zack Gould for Wakabayashi. He asks, “At Anime Expo 2018, you mentioned that if you work on any kind of project along with Imaishi, you would want to do something in the same vein as Panty and Stocking. I personally am also incredibly interested in seeing more hyper-sexual/hyper-violent works from you two, so I need to ask: has there been any discussion about it further than the mention at Anime Expo?”

This isn’t a direct translation, but Wakabayashi says Imaishi likes very orthodox series. He likes working on series like Gurren Lagann and Kill la Kill. He likes throwing in a sucker punch like Panty and Stocking and Luluco and taking turns between the two. Wakabayashi says that he would think that Promare is very orthodox. Promare’s genre is super-lit-mega-action-rescue-human drama!

I’m not going to translate what Wakabayashi just said. I’m sorry! I don’t think it’s possible. It’s too difficult. There’s a lot of play on words that I don’t think is possible to translate. If you can translate it, kudos to you. I’m not going to try, though!

I’ll translate what Wakabayashi said now, however. Promare is made for an all-ages audience. They’re not really goofing around this time. Everyone can enjoy the movie.

Hiromi was curious. Sakurai said earlier that he’s interested in animating his own worldview and making his own directed scenes and such. Hiromi was curious if Sakurai wanted to do concept art as well because that’s kind of exporting your own image into a visual illustration. I guess Sakurai is potentially interested in doing concept arts in the future.

Sakurai doesn’t really draw backgrounds or board-like illustrations in his free time, but he is currently studying how to at the moment. Sakurai explained that he’s not used to drawing and talking at the same time. I can’t even draw with my full attention, so I don’t think anyone can blame him for struggling to talk and draw at the same time.

I guess Sakurai’s self-pitch for his illustration of Satsuki today is that he gave a lot of effort to the shoulder parts, so once he’s finished drawing, check out the shoulders! It would be much appreciated.

“Tattun, are you an animator, too?” I wish! I wish I could draw. I wish I could draw all the time so that I could draw lewd pictures, but that is not the case.

This is a question from RYUUy that asks, “What are your favorite drawing exercises that helped you the most getting better?”

Sakurai says to watch a lot of other anime. Watch a lot of other creators’ illustrations and try to figure out what you appreciate and like drawing the most. When you figure out what you like and appreciate to draw the most, then that helps your own process with getting better at drawing.

Apparently, it’s Shiny Chariot’s birthday today. She’s one year older. I’m not sure she appreciates that!

Hiromi was curious. He just found out today that Little Witch Academia is that kind of series where you choose all the characters’ profiles. That’s not the case for Nakashima’s work like Gurren Lagann and Kill la Kill. That’s because Nakashima doesn’t want people to have a biased opinion of the character because their birthday is on a certain date. He wants the viewers to view his characters in the purest form.

I’m getting a lot of comments regarding the dice for the birthdays. I think I used a Dungeons and Dragons-type template to come up with the birthdays for the Little Witch Academia characters. Some of the birthdays were changed intentionally by the producer, obviously, but some birthday dates are completely random.

This is a question from Familiar Stranger_: “If you could remake any non-Japanese cartoon however you wanted, which cartoon would you do?” Hiromi says that it’s not a cartoon, but he would like to work with Star Wars.

Sakurai explains that he’s not too familiar with western cartoons. He doesn’t have any franchise that he would like to reboot under his name, but he would like to see Powerpuff Girls with Yoshinari’s touch. I agree that this would be nice!

We’re planning to stream for another 90 minutes. That’s how long we have the room for. However, if there are no other people booking the room after that, we might be able to extend if Sakurai doesn’t finish in an hour and a half. So, we maybe have an hour and a half to go!

This is another question from Patreon. It’s from Kikoman589. The original question was from Thorn14. The question is, “Are there seasons (winter/spring/summer/fall) that are easier or harder on anime studios?”

Wakabayashi says that Trigger doesn’t really have a laid-back season. Obviously, this would depend on the studio as well, though. As a studio, they have the most free time available when they finish a series. There’s an interval time between two projects.

Wakabayashi personally wants a project that doesn’t go over New Year’s Eve. He wants days off. The end of the year is one of the very few times that Japanese people get legitimate times off from work. They just want to take a break when allowed to.

We recently announced that we’re selling a Studio Trigger custom suitcase. There’s a question if we’d sell the suitcase to overseas audiences. I believe the suitcase we’re selling is sold through Good Smile Company? Obviously, the shipment is going to be nasty, but I don’t see why not. We’ll look into it! We don’t have whoever’s in charge of that with us right now. Since we’re not using any IP, I don’t think there’s a problem with selling the suitcase overseas, but the price of the shipment would be high.

I think the question was, “Will Trigger ever do Isekai—is that the term in English?—genre?”

Wakabayashi’s answer is that Trigger has so many other things that they want to do that they don’t have any plans to do that kind of series in the near future. If they do an Isekai, they’ll probably do their own original Isekai series, though, not an adaptation.

There was a question in Japanese. “How was the opening and ending song determined in this particular series?”

Wakabayashi says that if the creative staffs for a particular series want to throw in their own opinion or two cents for what opening or ending will be used for a particular series, then they might make a request to the production committee, which usually has a production label company within it, who would be the sponsors for a particular series. The creative team might make a request to the label company, saying that they want this type of music or soundtrack, and the label might try their best to accommodate the request to the best of their abilities.

In the case that the creative team doesn’t really have any preference, the music production label company usually will make the decision themselves. For Studio Trigger, it depends on which production group is involved as well.

Imaishi or Hiromi Wakabayashi’s creative team does usually make specific requests to label companies. What Wakabayashi generally sees from the director is that the director is usually more interested in choosing who is in charge of the soundtrack for the series than the opening/ending themes.

Sorry! I’m taking a one-minute absence from the keyboard. My throat is drying up, and I need to buy some kind of drink.

Sorry, I’m back. I believe they’re talking about the program Sakurai is using right now. He’s using Sai. I’m not sure if that program is well-known among the western community, but Sai is a pretty popular program in Japan. People generally use Sai or Clip Studio in Japan. Sakurai explained that in Sai, it’s easier to paint. He usually finishes all his process of illustration in one program.

Sakurai’s reason for using Sai over Clip Studio Paint is that Sai isn’t too demanding on the hardware. The user interface is pretty simple, too. Sakurai has also been using the program for a while.

This is our third stream. All of our animators so far have used a different program! It’s an interesting showcase. Yoshinari used Photoshop and Painter. I think Sato used MediBang Paint. Sakurai is using Sai. I think we’re only missing Clip Studio Paint now.

If you’re interested in getting into drawing digitally, you can check out our archive on YouTube and see how each individual program functions. You can choose which program works best for you.

We asked what creative artists Sakurai respects a lot. He said Minamino Aki. I guess this particular creator was in DARLING in the FRANXX as well, as an outfit designer.

Sakurai also likes mebae and Uki as well. Uki is obviously known for Cencoroll. Wakabayashi says that Cencoroll is one of those frontiers. It was a title that was early for its time. Uki kind of made Cencoroll by himself. There were other creators mentioned as well, like Shinkai, who is probably very well known by now but who is still working pretty much solo.

Sakurai didn’t really read manga prior to becoming an animator, but if he had to choose a title, it would be Danjon Meshi. I’m Googling for an English title. I guess it’s Dungeon Lunch.

When we asked Sakurai what games he likes, he said Breath of the Wild for Zelda. I asked Sakurai what other Zelda games he played. There was this one Gameboy title. I don’t know what it’s called in English… it’s The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening. The game is being released on Switch soon. I guess Sakurai is playing Splatoon and Smash Brothers a lot as well. Sakurai’s favorite PC game is Cave Story.

There’s a question from maxie721: “Does Studio Trigger have any after-activities after work? Sports, Mario Party, etc.? Or only Nomikai???”

Sakurai says he occasionally goes drinking with his colleagues. Hiromi apparently goes straight home. Hiromi hangs out enough with his colleagues because his work hours are unfortunate for him.

I guess Sakurai doesn’t play games with his colleagues. His taste of games is different from the rest of the crew. He also likes playing the same game for hours. His colleagues like trying out different titles more. At Studio Trigger, Switch is popular. Everyone is playing Smash Brothers.

Maybe we’ll do a Kill la Kill stream once the game is released. I believe it’s available for PS4 and Steam at the moment.

There was a comment saying that we must be playing FGO. I guess Sakurai doesn’t play any mobile games or app games anymore. Hiromi plays a lot of Granblue. I hate app games with a passion and don’t play any of them.

Hiromi is saying that the selling point of the app games is that you can pick them up any time and enjoy them whenever you want. You don’t have to go through the hassle of turning them on and stuff. It’s an easier version of “plug it in and play.”

I won’t name it, but one of my favorite titles was ruined by app games, so I don’t like app games!

I guess Hiromi was saying that the more passionate gamer tends to hate app games. Sakurai says it’s an interface issue. You feel like you have to get the controller-in-hand feel better.

My favorite game ruined by apps wasn’t Diablo, by the way. I gave up on Diablo after Diablo III.

This is a question from Patreon, from Alex B, who says, “Tweeners are the most interesting job! So excited to have an inbetweener doing this! The real heroes in anime! How did you get into the job? What about it do you find interesting? Would you prefer to have a different role in the animation production process?”

We’ve covered a little of the question already, but I think it’s interesting to ask why Sakurai was initially interested in applying to Trigger.

Sakurai wanted to be an inbetween animator or become an animator because he wanted to get better at drawing. He initially started drawing in his high school days. He was trying to draw his favorite character from a social app game, and things got out of hand from there.

When you’re an inbetween animator or an animator in general, you’re not always drawing what you want to draw. There’s also a high level of skill required because you have to draw a lot of different angles, etc. Being an animator is the right place to be to get better at drawing.

We got confirmation that our room is extended for five more hours. I don’t think this stream will take that long, though. I don’t want to keep you guys deprived of sleep for that long, either. I think Sakurai will finish in maybe another 30 minutes or so. Sakurai is adding highlights and shadows now, so he’s prepping to finish up the job right now.

We’re explaining now that even younger animators these days are getting really good. The level of technique that younger animators have now is unmatched to what we saw when we were younger. When Yoshinari was younger, Hiromi doesn’t think animators were as good. It’s like the Olympics. 30-40 years ago, the demonstrations at the Olympics were still outstanding feats, but you can see how much humanity or mankind has improved since then.

There’s a comment being made right now saying that the animation budget was higher in the 80s. Hiromi claims that this is not true. Budget doesn’t really equal quality, I guess, if that’s the right term. There might have been a high-budget project here and there, but the general consensus is that the budget was the same in the 80s as it is now.

There’s a lot to put into consideration, though. There’s a lot more staff working on a project now compared to in the 80s. There’s a different amount of budget allocated at a different time. What determines the quality of the project more is the passion of the creators. Passion has a lot more to do with the quality than the budget, Hiromi says.

However, I would like to note that more budget will obviously help. With more budget, Studio Trigger can maintain a larger staff, which helps with quality. What ultimately affects how fun and entertaining a project is is how involved the staff is in the production.

axelsaurus asks, “Sorry to ask again, but can we hope for some Trigger ‘Parallel Works,’ like the TTGL ones? KLK spin-off shorts are in my wet dreams.”

If you’re looking for a spin-off of Kill la Kill, Hiromi believes that the game, Kill la Kill the Game: IF, will satisfy your thirst for a parallel work. It’s going to feature Satsuki as the main character. It’s a “what if” story examining if Satsuki was the main protagonist for the series. If you’re interested, Hiromi thinks it is well worth the money. The script is also done by Nakashima himself.

There was a question regarding how artists keep themselves motivated in drawing. Sakurai explains that keeping an old archive of all of your artwork and trying to compare it with your more recent work to see how much you’ve improved is a good way to see if you’re making any progress.

Also, Sakurai likes posting on the Internet and receiving feedback or praise. That’s always a plus.

There’s a question from syworks: “Is there any secret to keep your wrists from overstraining from working so long and so many hours?”

Sakurai says that he doesn’t really have any secrets for that. If you work too much in a single day, his hands do get sore. He has to take breaks in between and relieve the stress in the middle. He doesn’t really have any secrets.

We asked Sakurai if he has a Twitter or pixiv account he would like to share with the community. He says he doesn’t want to show it and is a little uneasy right now, but maybe one day, he’ll make it public.

Another question is, “How great is Studio Trigger’s snack/bar pantry? What delicious treats do staff have access to?”

I guess that Studio Trigger doesn’t really have a bar/pantry. They want one. People do receive snacks or gifts from fans that is available for anyone in the studio to take in the middle. As such, there’s not something specific that they always have.

Studio Trigger do want a kitchen or bar. In the studios that Trigger was able to tour overseas, they found that every studio had some kind of pantry, even if it was just a cereal buffet. Wakabayashi thought it was cool and wanted one in Trigger, too. Maybe when Trigger has more money.

Hiromi is saying that, knowing himself very well, even if there was a pantry, kitchen, or bar, he’d probably get bored of the menu or whatever is available pretty quickly. He’d probably only use it once or twice.

I disagree, though. I know Hiromi likes coffee. I would use the snack/pantry if we had one!

We probably can’t do a studio tour stream. It’s probably not possible. We’d have to tear down a lot of the studio to avoid anything being leaked!

Maybe we could put the GoPro on a Hot Wheel and have a quick, short tour, but it probably wouldn’t happen. There would be too much risk!

There’s a question from luluraoul in Japanese: “Are there any plans for future streams?” We usually communicate with our Patreon for our streams. The goal is to stream once a month. That’s a goal, but we don’t always do a good job on it. We have had three streams, and the Patreon has been active for longer than three months. We do a stream about once every 2.5 months. We will have a stream in the future, and we’ll continue to do so until our Patreon dries up.

We actually have our next participant chosen, an outside creator. She’s kind of not Trigger, but she works with us very frequently. She’s Mago, the character designer for Space Patrol Luluco and our mascot characters. She was supposed to stream this month, but there were schedule conflicts, so she’ll stream next month. Our fourth stream is very, very soon. We’ll make an announcement about that stream early next month.

I don’t know Mago’s Twitter account off the top off my head, but I think it’s magodesu. She’s pretty active on Twitter. She’ll probably come up easily if you search. Yes, it seems magodesu is her Twitter.

I guess Sakurai is using a very unique method of adding this lighting gradation.

There’s a question from EiGi696969 that asks, “Recently, the Studio Trigger documentaries have been focused more on the voice actors and less on the artists (Kill la Kill or LWA or Kiznaiver and FRANXX). Have you guys switched the documentary production team? Would you mind in the future if you can make sure there’s more into the art stuff in these documentaries?”

Hiromi is saying, just FYI, at least half of the documentary for FRANXX was focused on the artists. The focus on voice actors is… they want to focus on their creative process more, but it’s straining to the studio if there’s an entire camera crew filming all the time. It’s detrimental to the schedule. That’s maybe why there is less footage of the creative process portion. I guess it’s something that we want to focus on more, but we might not have been able to. It didn’t really come up to our minds until it was just mentioned now, Hiromi says.

Wakabayashi says that a lot of the staff don’t like being recorded or photographed. Also, the documentaries are more entertaining if the camera crews come in without respect of the creators. That kind of footage is more entertaining, but we can’t do that because our creators are delicate individuals. Personally, Hiromi wants more documentaries focused on the creative process, though.

Sakurai apparently finished his illustration. We’re asking him to zoom in a little bit right now.

That was it for the live drawing. For those who are interested in the Sai composition files for this illustration, if you’re part of our Patreon, you’ll have access to this and our previous illustrations as well. If you had a great time, feel free to support our studio and creators. We much appreciate it!

Thank you, everyone! There are about 1,200 of you at this weird, awkward time on a weekday. Our next stream is with Mago in early March. Thank you for joining our stream! We’ll be wrapping up our stream now.

#kill la kill #satsuki kiryuin #studio trigger #hiromi wakabayashi #tetsuya sakurai #tattun #apologies if there are any glaring mistakes; i was really tired and never transcribe that long by myself #i did go over anything i was really unsure about though #think i'll keep doing these because it's good practice for my job!#sorry i wasn't doing 'em before

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